#and reassure him the whole time through even though hes in so much pain and has spent so much time scared

[xxgoldie]

Hyewwo, if you don't mind.. 👉👈

I, U, and X for Lighter? 🥺 Thank you so much for what you do!

main event page - event masterlist

I: Injury - how do they act when you get hurt? No matter the severity of the injury, Lighter worries about you. Something bad happenning to you is like his worst nightmare, so his eyes instinctively fly to you in a panic every time you make any sound of pain, even if it's just a papercut or stubbed toe. If you get seriously injured, though, he's an absolute wreck. He wants so badly to protect you and make sure you're okay, but seeing you in so much pain and covered in your own blood has him losing it, the closest he's getting to helping is half-begging half-threatening anyone with medical training to Do Something. He hates hospitals, but he won't leave your side until you're okay, even if you end up in one. Won't even let himself sleep until your condition is stable. And as your recovering and sent home, you'll have a 24/7 assistant and guard until you're back to tiptop shape, that brief taste of losing you has him extra protective, even permanently.

U: Upset - how would they comfort you if you're upset? Lighter is a practical man - he's great if you're frustrated about something and need to vent since he'll analyse all the details with you, picking apart the situation and helping you to decide the next course of action. But that's not the most helpful response when the feelings are more fresh, and he understands that. He doesn't really know what to do with himself if you cry in front of him - he hates to see you so upset and he rarely knows what to say to make you feel better. Instead, he'll opt to just hold you, pressing soft kisses into your hair and mutter soft reassurances, little "I'm here"s and "you're okay"s. As you start recovering, his mission becomes to make you laugh, whether it takes a corny joke or a tickle attack with kisses pressed all over your face, distracting you until you're ready to talk through whatever upset you.

X: X-Ray - how easily can they read their partner? how easy are they to read? Lighter is really perceptive - he's really good at reading people in general, so he sees through you so easily with how much time you spend together. He can always tell if there's something bothering you, or if you're particularly attracted to something he does. The first he uses for good, coaxing you to talk about it or getting you a treat to cheer you up before you even tell him something's wrong. He'll find solutions you didn't know existed to problems you barely have, and all you have to do is make one slightly frustrated sigh. The latter he uses for pure evil, he's an absolute menace, showing off the things he knows you like. No matter how cool you try to play it, he can Tell he's affecting you, its lowkey infuriating how proud of himself he looks. When it comes to reading him, its a bit tougher. He's pretty good at hiding and repressing his thoughts when he wants to, not letting them show on his face. Besides, his sunglasses make it a bit harder to read his expressions. But with you, he doesn't hide his thoughts that often, especially in private, and you can pretty easily tell exactly what he's feeling just from his face. Between that and how easily he reads you, you can probably have whole conversations with him just using facial expressions

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝟵 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N's and Matt's babies are finally born after 9 long months of waiting; OR, where Matt is finally a dad.

WARNING: Pregnancy, crying, mentions of labor, pain.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I cried while writing this one, it totally melted my heart 🥺

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The contractions hit Y/N like a tidal wave, her breath catching in her throat as she gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, her knuckles turning white. The pain radiated from her lower back, wrapping around to her abdomen in tight, relentless waves. She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

They had been waiting for this moment for nine long months, and yet, now that it was here, the reality of it was almost overwhelming. She tried to call out for Matt, her voice wavering, but the pain was so intense that it felt as if it was squeezing the sound right out of her.

Matt was in the living room, his eyes glued to his laptop as he reviewed some emails. It had been a busy few weeks leading up to the due date, and he was trying to get ahead of things before the twins arrived.

The sound of Y/N’s voice, strained and filled with pain, cut through his concentration like a knife. His head snapped up, his heart skipping a beat. He leaped from the couch, knocking his laptop to the floor, and sprinted into the kitchen, his heart racing with panic.

"Honey? What’s wrong? Is it- oh God, it’s happening, isn't it?" Matt’s voice was a mixture of excitement and sheer panic as he reached her side. He placed a gentle but trembling hand on her back, his eyes wide with concern as he watched her struggle to breathe through the contraction. "Breathe, baby, breathe. Do you need water? No, wait- sit down. Should you sit? Or should you lie down? Oh my God, I should call 911!"

Y/N squeezed his hand, her face scrunched up in pain, but she managed a breathless laugh.

"Matt, relax... it’s okay. Just-" She interrupted her own sentence when a new wave of pain invaded her whole body.

"Come here, sweetheart." Matt gently guided Y/N to the edge of the kitchen chair, his expression shifting from sheer panic to a momentary calmness, trying to ground himself in the situation.

He knelt down in front of her, his hands trembling slightly as he placed them on her knees. His eyes, wide with worry, locked onto hers as he tried to steady his breathing.

"How long has this been going on?" His voice held a perfect mix of calmness and nerves, the gravity of the situation starting to dawn on him. He reached out instinctively, his hand gently resting on her stomach, feeling the tension in her muscles.

"Oh God, I don’t know." Y/N replied, wincing as another contraction hit, this one even stronger. She grasped Matt's hand tightly, her grip involuntarily squeezing his fingers. "Maybe an hour or so... but it’s so much worse right now."

Matt’s eyes widened, the shock and concern evident in his expression. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke.

"Okay, okay, don’t panic." His voice was a bit firmer now, though a subtle tremble betrayed his nerves. He gently cupped her face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring as he looked deeply into her eyes. "We need to time these contractions, okay? See if they’re far apart or getting closer together..."

Y/N nodded weakly, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to focus on his words. Matt quickly grabbed his phone, fumbling with it slightly as he opened the timer app. He sat back on his heels, his eyes darting between the screen and Y/N's face, waiting for the next contraction to hit.

When it did, she squeezed his hand again, and he hit the timer. They both watched the seconds tick by, the silence in the room only broken by Y/N's labored breathing. The contraction passed, and Matt stopped the timer, noting the time with a furrowed brow.

"Okay, that was... three minutes." He said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at her, his heart pounding in his chest. "We’re close, Y/N. We need to get you to the hospital now."

He helped her to her feet, moving with a newfound urgency but still managing to maintain a steady calmness, knowing he had to be strong for her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they made their way out to the car, his determination stronger than ever.

He opened the passenger door of their car, gently easing her into the seat before rushing to the driver’s side.

"Matt, the... the bag."

"Right! The bag!" Matt practically yelled as if suddenly remembering the concept of bag. "I'm gonna be right back, baby!"

He darted back to the house, running around the kitchen like a man possessed, searching for the hospital bag they had packed weeks ago. He spotted it by the door and grabbed it, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to get back to Y/N.

"Here, I’ve got the bag! And... what else? Do we need snacks? Maybe you want something to eat before we go?"

Y/N's response was a groan as another contraction hit, stronger this time.

"Okay, no snacks, got it. We’re going to the hospital now, I promise. I’ll get you there, Y/N. I won’t let anything happen to you or the babies, okay?"

As he started the car, his mind raced. He had planned for this moment, had rehearsed it in his head a thousand times, but now that it was happening, he felt completely unprepared. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and he glanced over at Y/N, who was trying to remain calm despite the pain.

Matt hated seeing her in so much pain, his heart aching with every sharp intake of breath she made.

"Okay, okay, we’re going. We’re going." He muttered to himself as he pulled out of the driveway, his voice a mix of determination and barely contained panic. The streets of Los Angeles blurred past them as he sped toward the hospital, his mind racing with all the things he needed to do.

"Siri!" He suddenly barked at the car’s dashboard, his voice urgent. "Send a text to Chris and Nick."

"What would you like to say?" Siri responded in its calm, robotic tone.

"Um... Uh..." Matt hesitated, trying to form a coherent sentence as he glanced nervously at Y/N, who was breathing heavily beside him. "Tell them... we’re on our way to the hospital. Y/N's in labor. Get there by tomorrow morning. And don’t panic like I am because... just get there!"

"Sending message to Chris and Nick." Siri confirmed, and Matt let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he continued driving.

Y/N chuckled softly, despite the pain, and Matt shot her a quick, incredulous look.

"What? What's funny?"

"You are." She managed to say between contractions. "You're... adorable when you're freaking out."

Matt’s face flushed as he gave her a sheepish grin.

"I'm just trying to keep it together here, baby. You’re the one doing all the hard work."

"Trust me... I know." She replied, wincing as another contraction rolled through her.

Finally, they pulled up to the hospital entrance, and Matt jumped out of the car, nearly forgetting to put it in park in his haste to get to Y/N's side. He waved frantically at a nurse standing nearby, who immediately came over with a wheelchair.

"She's in labor! It's happening! We need to- she needs- help!" Matt's words tumbled out in a rush as he helped Y/N into the wheelchair, his voice rising in pitch with every word.

The nurse smiled reassuringly, clearly used to panicked fathers-to-be, and guided them inside.

"Don’t worry, we'll take good care of her. Just follow me."

As they were whisked away to the delivery room, Matt's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts of what was about to happen. He couldn't believe that in just a few hours, they would finally meet their babies.

Once in the right room, Y/N was settled onto the bed, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts as the contractions intensified. Matt stayed by her side, clutching her hand as if it was his only lifeline. He leaned in close, his voice trembling but filled with love as he whispered,

"You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes locking onto his.

"I need you to stay calm, okay? We've got this... together."

Matt nodded, swallowing hard as he brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

"Together. I’m right here with you, every step of the way."

The room buzzed with activity, doctors and nurses moving around with practiced efficiency, but all Matt could focus on was Y/N’s face, her eyes squeezed shut as she battled through another contraction.

Time seemed to warp in the delivery room. Minutes stretched into hours, the pain of each contraction relentless, only broken by brief moments of respite. Matt stayed by Y/N’s side, his voice soft and steady as he encouraged her, even though his own nerves were frayed to the core. He watched the monitors anxiously, every beep and flicker, causing his heart to jump.

"Matt." Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with exhaustion as another contraction hit. "I can’t... I don’t know if I can do this."

Matt’s heart broke at the sight of her so vulnerable, so exhausted. He took a deep breath, brushing a few strands of hair away from her sweaty forehead and leaning in close, his lips brushing her temple.

"You’re the strongest person I know." He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You’ve got this, baby. I’m right here with you. And in the end, everything will be worth it, yeah?"

Hours later, after what felt like a lifetime of labor, the doctor finally said the words they had been waiting to hear.

"It's time to push."

Y/N gritted her teeth, her entire body trembling with the effort as she bore down, Matt’s hand in hers, his words of encouragement a constant in the whirlwind of pain and exhaustion. The room seemed to close in around them, everything else fading away as they focused on bringing their babies into the world.

"Breath." Matt murmured, his hand gently rubbing her tense shoulders. "Just focus on your breathing. In and out, slow and steady. You got this, sweet girl. It's almost ending."

The first cry shattered the tension in the room, a tiny wail that echoed in Matt’s ears like the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He watched in awe as the doctor carefully lifted their first baby - a tiny, wriggling girl - into the air.

Time seemed to freeze as the nurse quickly wrapped her in a blanket and handed her to Y/N. Matt felt tears well up in his eyes as he looked down at his daughter for the first time. She was perfect, with a shock of dark hair and rosy cheeks, her eyes squeezed shut as she continued to cry.

"She’s beautiful." Y/N whispered, tears streaming down her face as she cradled their daughter against her chest, gluing her small head to her chin. Matt leaned down, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, his own tears finally spilling over.

But the moment was short-lived as Y/N was hit with another wave of contractions. The doctor quickly reminded them that there was still one more baby to bring into the world, taking their daughter away from them so Y/N could concentrate.

"One more, honey. Just one more. You can do this. You're so strong, I know you can." Y/N, though exhausted, steeled herself for the final round, and with Matt’s unwavering support, she pushed again.

Minutes later, another cry filled the room, this one just as heart-wrenching and beautiful as the first. Their son was born, his tiny fists clenched as he wailed with the full force of his little lungs.

"I don't... I don't know how to hold- Oh, okay." The nurse placed him in Matt’s arms, ignoring his sentence. He stared down at his son in awe, his arms trembling with fear of holding him in the wrong way, or worse, dropping him.

The baby boy was the spitting image of his sister, with the same dark hair and tiny features, though his cries were slightly less intense.

"He's... he's so small." Matt whispered in awe.

Matt’s breath caught in his throat as he carried his son over to Y/N - who was already holding their girl again -, his heart swelling with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. He gently placed their son in Y/N’s free arm, and for the first time, they looked down at their twins together, their hearts filled with an indescribable mixture of joy, relief, and pure, unconditional love.

"We did it." Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she looked up at Matt, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They’re here, and they’re perfect."

Matt could only nod, his throat too tight with emotion to speak. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his daughter’s tiny forehead, then his son’s, feeling the warmth of their little bodies against his skin. They were so small, so fragile, and yet so full of life.

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The next morning, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a warm glow over the quiet scene. Y/N was resting peacefully, her exhaustion from the previous night’s labor evident in the serene expression on her face as she slept. The twins were nestled in their bassinets beside the bed, their tiny chests rising and falling in a synchronized rhythm, the only sounds in the room being their soft breathing.

Matt sat in the armchair near the window, his eyes moving between Y/N and their newborns, a small smile playing on his lips. He had hardly slept, but he didn’t mind. He was too filled with wonder, still wrapping his mind around the fact that he was now a father to two perfect little beings. The magnitude of the moment wasn’t lost on him, and every time he looked at his family, his heart swelled with a mixture of pride and overwhelming love.

Just then, a soft knock on the door drew Matt’s attention. He stood up quickly, careful not to disturb Y/N, and opened the door to find Nick and Chris standing in the hallway. Both of his brothers looked a little disheveled, their hair slightly messy from a night of restless sleep. Chris held a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and Nick had a stuffed animal - a small bear with a yellow bow - tucked under his arm. The moment they saw Matt, their faces broke into wide grins.

"Hey, Dad." Nick joked softly, giving Matt a one-armed hug while still holding the bear. "How’s it feel?"

Matt chuckled, the sound low and full of affection.

"Surreal." He admitted, stepping back to let them in. "Come on, they’re right over here."

Chris was the first to approach the bassinets, his breath catching as he looked down at the sleeping twins. He placed the bouquet on a nearby table, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out, but then hesitated, as if afraid to disturb the peaceful scene. Nick followed, standing beside him, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of his new niece and nephew.

"They’re so tiny." Chris whispered, his voice cracking as he looked over at Matt, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Oh, my God, Matt... they’re so small."

Nick nodded, his usual bravado momentarily stripping away as he gazed at the twins.

"Yeah." He added, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "How is this possible?"

Matt felt a lump form in his throat, seeing the raw emotion on his brothers’ faces. He watched as Chris finally let out a shaky breath and reached down, his fingers gently brushing against his niece’s tiny hand. The touch seemed to undo him completely, and within seconds, tears spilled over, streaming down his cheeks.

"Chris." Matt said softly, his voice full of understanding as he placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. "It’s okay, man."

But Chris couldn’t find the words to respond. Instead, he just nodded, tears continuing to fall as he stood there, overwhelmed by the sight of his niece and nephew. He had always been the emotional one, the heart-on-his-sleeve brother, and in this moment, he felt everything with an intensity that was impossible to contain.

Nick, on the other hand, was struggling to maintain his composure. He swallowed hard, his jaw clenched as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. He wanted to be strong, to keep it together, but seeing Chris break down and knowing just how much this moment meant, even he couldn’t hold back completely. He let out a shaky breath, wiping his eyes quickly.

Matt noticed Nick’s struggle and gave him a reassuring smile.

"It’s okay to cry, you know." He said quietly, his own eyes misting over. "They’re your niece and nephew. This is a big moment."

Nick managed a small, watery laugh, shaking his head.

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

Matt grinned, pulling both of his brothers into a tight hug. The three of them stood there for a moment, embracing each other, their silent bond stronger than ever before. When they finally pulled away, Chris wiped at his eyes, sniffling a little as he turned back to the twins.

"Can we hold them?" Chris asked, his voice still shaky but filled with awe.

"Of course." Matt replied, his heart warming at the thought of his brothers meeting their niece and nephew properly. He carefully lifted his son from the bassinet, gently cradling the tiny bundle before handing him to Chris. "This is your nephew." He said, watching as Chris took the baby with the utmost care, as if he were the most delicate thing in the world.

Chris’s breath hitched as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

"Hey, little guy." He whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m your Uncle Chris. You’re going to be so loved, I promise."

Nick took his niece from Matt, holding her close, his eyes wide with wonder as he gazed at her tiny features.

"Hi, princess." He murmured, his voice soft. "I’m your Uncle Nick. And don’t worry, I’ll always have your back. You’re in good hands."

He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly, but when the little girl's tiny hand grasped his finger, Nick’s composure slipped. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears, but a few escaped, trailing down his cheeks.

"They're perfect... You and Y/N did good, Matt."

Matt felt his own eyes sting with tears as he watched his brothers, their love for his children evident in every trembling breath, every tear they tried to hold back.

"They really are." He whispered, his voice filled with pride as he watched his brothers bond with their niece and nephew.

The soft rustling of sheets drew Matt’s attention back to the bed, and he saw Y/N slowly stirring, her eyes fluttering open. She looked groggy, her movements sluggish as she tried to orient herself.

"Matt?" She called out, her voice hoarse and weak, a faint frown creasing her brow as she tried to sit up.

Matt was by her side in an instant, his hand gently brushing her hair back.

"I'm here, baby." He said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "The babies are right here, and Nick and Chris are with us."

Y/N’s gaze shifted to where Nick and Chris stood, each cradling a baby in their arms. Her eyes softened, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips as she saw them.

"Hey, guys." She murmured, her voice raspy but filled with warmth.

"Hey, Y/N." Chris replied, his voice thick with emotion as he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding the baby boy close to his chest. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I’ve been hit by a truck." Y/N joked weakly, managing a small laugh despite her exhaustion. She reached out for Matt, her eyes pleading for his help. "Can you help me sit up? I want to hold them."

"Of course." Matt said, his voice tender as he gently supported her back, helping her sit up against the pillows. He adjusted the bed to make her more comfortable, his movements careful and precise, always mindful of her comfort.

Once she was settled, Y/N looked at her babies, a rush of love flooding her system. Chris carefully handed her their son, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he watched Y/N cradle the tiny bundle in her arms. The baby boy squirmed slightly, his little face scrunching up as he nestled into Y/N’s embrace, and Y/N felt her heart melt at the sight.

"Hi, sweet boy." Y/N whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks as she pressed a soft kiss to her son's forehead. "Mommy’s here."

Nick, still holding their daughter, hesitated for a moment before offering her to Matt, a silent question in his eyes. Matt nodded, and Nick carefully placed the baby girl into his brother’s arms. The little girl yawned, her tiny fist curling up near her face, and Matt felt his heart swell with a fierce, protective love as he looked down at his daughter.

"She's got your eyes." Nick teased softly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"And her nose." Chris added, his voice still wavering with emotion.

Y/N smiled, looking at Matt, who was gazing down at their daughter with such love and awe that it made her heart ache in the best way. She could see the tears in his eyes, the overwhelming emotion that he was trying so hard to keep in check, and it made her love him even more.

"It's like I've waited my whole life for this moment."

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"Ready?" Matt asked, his voice soft as he looked over at Y/N, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she gazed back at him.

"Ready." She whispered, her voice steady, filled with a quiet determination.

They walked up the path of their house together, Matt balancing his baby boy in one arm while Y/N held onto his other arm. The front door, painted in a cheerful shade of brown, seemed to welcome them home as they stepped inside. The familiar scent of home - fresh linen, a hint of lavender, and the comforting smell of wood - washed over them as they crossed the threshold.

Matt paused in the entryway, taking a deep breath as he looked around. Everything was exactly as they had left it, but now it felt different, infused with the anticipation of this new chapter.

"Welcome home, little lovies." Y/N whispered, leaning down and brushing her lips against her daughter’s small head covered by her light pink beanie.

Matt led the way, his steps slow and deliberate as he carried their son into the living room. He paused in the center of the room, turning in a slow circle as he looked around.

"Look, little guy, this is where we'll spend most of our time together." He said softly, his voice taking on a warm, inviting tone as if he were talking directly to the babies. "Right here, in this room. We'll have family movie nights, and you’ll play with your many toys on the rug... and when you’re a little bigger, we’ll build forts with blankets and cushions."

Y/N followed him, her heart swelling with love as she listened to him talk. She could see it all so clearly in her mind; tiny feet pattering across the hardwood floor, peals of laughter filling the air as they chased each other around the coffee table, and sleepy cuddles on the couch after a long day of playing. It was the life they had dreamed of, and now it was finally real.

"And this." Matt continued softly, leading Y/N out of the living room and down the hallway to the master bedroom. "Is Mama and Dada's room."

He pushed the white door open, revealing the room they had shared for a year now - after they moved in to their own shared house -, now feeling so much more significant with the addition of their new roles as parents. The bed was neatly made, the pillows fluffed and arranged just the way Y/N liked them, and the soft curtains billowed slightly in the breeze from the open window.

"This is where you’ll come when you need comfort." Matt said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked down at their son, still cradled in his arms. "Where you'll crawl into bed with us on stormy nights, or just because you want to be close. And we'll always be here, waiting to hold you, to keep you safe."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Matt, her heart overflowing with love for him, for their children, for the life they were building together.

"They’re so lucky to have you as their dad." She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "And I’m so lucky to have you as my partner in this."

Matt’s gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes filled with the depth of his love.

"I'm the lucky one." He murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. "I get to spend my life with you and our beautiful babies. I don’t think I could ever ask for more."

Leaving the bedroom, Matt led them to the one right by the side, stopping in front of a door that had been carefully painted in soft pastels. He pushed it open gently, revealing the nursery inside. The room was bathed in the warm, golden light of the afternoon sun, and the soft colors of the walls and furniture created a peaceful, serene atmosphere.

"Now, this is your room." Matt said softly, his voice full of pride and love as he stepped inside.

He carefully set the bag that was held by his free arm down on the plush rug in the center of the room, turning to Y/N as she entered behind him.

"We've spent so much time getting it ready for you." Y/N muttered, her eyes shining as she looked around the room.

"That's right. This is where you'll sleep, where you'll have sweet dreams and where we'll sing you lullabies every night. Also, where your mama is going to read all those cute little stories every day."

Y/N carefully placed their daughter in the crib, brushing her fingers over the soft white blankets they had chosen with so much care. She looked around the room, her heart swelling with a deep, almost overwhelming sense of love.

"It’s so beautiful." She whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she looked up at Matt, her eyes lowering to her baby boy still on his arms, his big blue eyes now appearing smaller with the heaviness of sleep that dominated them. "They’re going to be so happy here."

Matt’s hand found hers, their fingers intertwining as they stood together, looking down at their tiny daughter, who was already drifting off to sleep in the crib.

"We all are."

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I also wrote it while listening to a really beautiful brazilian song about pregnancy. I'm gonna let it right below so yall can listen to it and see the translation through Spotify! 🩷

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[amomentsescape]

Slashers x reader with wings. Reader's wings are bound, hidden and look heavily damaged from that.

How do the slashers find out? How do they react?

Add the crow guy, Eric, I think?

Slashers with Winged! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Eric

A/N: I am once again sleep deprived, so I apologize if there are any typos or nonsense that I didn't catch reading through this. Thank you for your request!

Freddy Krueger

As mentioned in many previous posts, you can't really hide anything from Freddy

Whenever you sleep, you're in his territory, and he can do whatever he pleases

And one of the last things he'll ever let you do is hide yourself from him

He could see the damage from all the years of hiding your wings, binding them up in hopes no one would notice

And this honestly pisses him off a bit

Why would you ever want to be like everyone else?

Your wings were beautiful, and they made you that much more special

The moment he sees your wings free, you better believe he'll never let you hide them again

Anyone who even gives you the slightest look will be dealt with that same night

Michael Myers

Another one that you can't really hide anything from

He may let you think that he doesn't know about your wings

But in reality, he's known about them this whole time

However, he won't push you to reveal yourself to him until you're ready

It's not like it's a huge deal to him anyways

He's neutral about the whole situation

Wings or no wings, nothing will sway his opinion on you

Just don't wait too long to talk to him about it though

The more time that passes, the more irritated he'll become

Because after this much time together, you have to fully trust him now

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Jason is pretty much clueless from the start

It's not that he isn't observant to you (he watches you 24/7)

It's just that he fully respects your boundaries and won't even hold your hand unless you tell him he can

So when he accidentally walked in on you one day and saw your damaged wings, he just stands there in shock

He snaps out of it when he notices your bashful and worried face however

He's just so confused on why you would hide this from him

He thinks your wings suit you perfectly

In fact, it makes him feel even more assured that you two are meant for each other

He also grew up wanting to hide a part of himself

But having each other means fully embracing the insecurities of the other

He doesn't ever want you to hide your wings from him again

Thomas Hewitt

He honestly would have never even knew about them if it wasn't for his need for late night affection

He just wanted to cuddle up next to you in the middle of the night

But he was met with something out of place on your back

He couldn't help but peek, and the moment he did, he was stunned

But did he even think about running?

No. He just decided to wait until morning to talk to you about it

When he asked you, he could tell you were uncomfortable

And because of this, he did everything he could to reassure you that he wasn't upset or grossed out by your wings

He loves them!

He took them in his hands gently and carefully removed the bindings

There will be no more hiding from him after that

And he'll happily caress your wings every night until you feel reassured

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba didn't mean to walk in on you like this

But the moment he sees the wings, all decency goes out the door

He stumbles in further, his hands reaching out to them

They're breathtaking... but why are they so damaged?

It physically hurts him to see you in any type of pain, and yet you've been carrying this around with you this whole time?

He's a bit hurt you didn't feel comfortable talking to him about this, but he's even more hurt by the fact that they look painful to you

He doesn't even let you protest before he's breaking the ties and freeing the wings

He's blubbering to you, making you promise to never hurt yourself like this, especially when it's something so cool

He spends the next few days playing with your wings, admiring them like a kid with a new toy

Brahms Heelshire

The day he finds out about your wings is one of betrayal

Brahms refuses to let you keep secrets from him, and hiding such a big thing from him upsets him greatly

How can he trust you?

You’ll need to give him some time to cool down, but once he does, he’ll be on you

Will force you to free your wings so he can play with them

It honestly hurts him a bit to see the destruction brought to them

He empathizes with you a bit

He has also spent a good portion of his life hiding a part of himself

But it’s because of this experience that he refuses to let you do the same any longer

You’re with him now anyways

He’ll never let you leave the house

So there will never be another soul to judge this part of you ever again

Norman Bates

He’s kind of speculated for a bit that you were hiding something

He didn’t know exactly what, he just could feel it in his gut

This insecurity was beginning to eat away at him until the day he finally saw the truth

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t a bit scared at first

Angels have wings, but so did the devil

But seeing your pained expression reassured Norman that you were far from something evil

Once he let everything soak in, he’ll be all over you asking questions

He wants to know everything about you and your wings

He doesn’t want you to hide them anymore, and he’ll take the time each night to clean them and help heal them from years of damage

These are a part of you, and he loves everything about you

Billy Loomis

Billy doesn't really speculate anything

He's confident that he would be able to tell if you were keeping anything from him

Until the night he sneaks in through your window in hopes of surprising you

But instead, he's the one with the surprise

He sees you looking sadly at yourself through the bathroom mirror, your damaged wings on full display

He spends the next few days going radio silent towards you

But on the fourth day, he storms your room and interrogates you on your wings

Why the hell would you lie to him?

He doesn't care that you have something that makes you "different"

He's simply hurt that you kept it from him

However, it only takes an open conversation for him to calm down

He's still a little pissy but happy to know the truth

Just don't keep anything from him again

Stu Macher

This boy is absolutely clueless

But his unconditional, completely suffocating affection is what finally makes you feel comfortable to open up to him

And when you do, his eyes widen and his jaw drops

You almost think he's going to be upset until he speaks

"That's fucking sick"

Has you unbind them immediately with the promise that you won't keep them hidden away like that anymore

He constantly reassures you that anyone who sees them will have the same reaction as him

There are thousands of people that would kill to have wings like yours

Stu included

So don't ever hide something that literally makes you so unique

He loves them

Vincent Sinclair

You honestly told him about your wings right away

It was after a deep conversation about his own insecurities over his appearance and scars

He showed you his face, and you showed him your wings

It was a raw moment of vulnerability between you two, and all it did was strengthen your bond

After that night, you rarely saw him wear that mask, and he refused to let you tied up your wings like that again

He wants to love the real you

And any part you hide from him is a part of you that he can't love freely

He thinks your wings are beautiful, and you become even more of a inspiration for his art

You are quite literally an angel in his eyes, and he won't ever take advantage of that

Bo Sinclair

He was being flirty and touchy, as Bo does

And the moment he felt your back, he was throwing questions at you left and right

There was no lying or hiding the truth from him any longer

Bo hates secrets

So when you fully reveal yourself to him, he's shocked

He doesn't really know what to say at first

He didn't think something like this was possible

But after finally accepting the reality of the situation, he angrily begins tearing off your bindings

How dare you hurt yourself like this? How could you willingly lie to him after all this time?

He's a good mixture of disbelieving and pissed at you

It'll take a couple days to fully understand the situation

But once he does, it's smooth sailing

Eric Draven

Eric is all-knowing

And he knows that you're keeping something from him

But unlike a lot of the others, he's not upset or angry about it

You'll tell him when you're ready, and he trusts you enough to know it isn't anything terrible

And once you do open up about it, he's in absolute awe

His companion is a crow for goodness sake

To think he was ever going to react in any way other than admiration would have been stupid

He does get a bit emotional seeing your wings all tied up and damaged however

He's gentle with you as he sets them free

To see that pain you put yourself through really upsets him

He doesn't ever want you to do something like that again, especially when he sees this as a true gift

He'll spend the rest of the night cleaning and taking care of them, lulling you to sleep

[redflowersociety]

Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC

These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort

Curly (Pre-Crash)

He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.

He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.

After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.

Curly (Post-Crash)

He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.

He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.

Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.

Daisuke

At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.

“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.

Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.

Anya

It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.

She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!

There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.

Swansea

Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.

f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.

That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.

Jimmy

Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.

The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.

After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.

[writtenbymoonflower]

hi!!! could i pls request some casual dominance polymarauders 🙈

Thanks for requesting, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders, kinda modern!au

cw: kinda d/s dynamics, boys order reader around a bit. if it's not your cup of tea feel free to skip!

810 words

You were attacked with affection the minute you had stepped foot in the house, but you weren’t complaining. It was like James had appeared from thin air to help you shuck your coat off and hang it up for you. 

“Christ, babe. It didn’t know how freezing it was out there. You’ve got like, bits of ice on you.” He fussed, scrutinizing your shaking body and wind-pinched face. 

“It wasn’t that bad, the walk was pretty.” You thought that would be reassuring, but James just looked more aghast. 

“You walked the whole way here?”

“I mean, yeah. I didn’t have money for the bus.” You admitted shamefully. It seemed like Sirius had appeared in the room to give you a (loving) talking to as well. 

“Then in that case, you call one of us, yeah?” He grabbed your face gently, turning you away from James to look at him. He had his whole intimidation thing going on that made you want to melt into the floor. “You don’t get to put yourself in danger walking in this.” He gave your chin an affectionate squeeze before dropping his hand from your face, you let your gaze fall to the floor.

“I will,” You muttered, barely intelligible. This time it was James who tilted your face up. 

“Speak up baby, and look Pads in the eye when you talk to him.” He was gentle but still assertive. You quickly corrected. 

“I will call you next time.” Still mousy, but at a discernible volume, and now you could see when Sirius’ usual grin overtook his concerned features. He pulled you into him, giving you a tight squeeze. 

“You’re okay, babydoll. You’re not in trouble.” He kissed your neck, making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Who’s not in trouble?” You heard Remus’ even tone from the kitchen. You tugged the two men next to you over to where Remus was. He was sitting at the counter, doing some work on his laptop.

“Well it seems like Y/N was determined to give us the fright of our life this afternoon.” James joked (rather dramatically in your opinion), but it’s all good now. 

“They will be requiring some hot chocolate, though.” Sirius pinched at your nose, making an awful cooing sound. “Baby, your face is still all cold.” 

Remus stood up to rummage through the box of hot drink mixes. “Pads love, could you run upstairs and grab the sweater off the end of the bed?” his voice turned more serious as he looked at you. “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re still cold, that shirt likely isn’t doing much to keep you warm.” 

“Actually,” You spoke up, ignoring his comment. “Could I have some coffee instead?” James scoffed and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“It’s half past five, baby dove. You’ll be up all night if you have caffeine right now.” Remus clearly wasn’t in the mood to be argued with, but you pressed in.

“I’ll be fine! Besides, my head hurts and I need to get some work done.” 

“Yeah, well, get that idea out of your head.” James shook your shoulders affectionately. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, you need a rest.” 

“Who needs a rest?” Sirius trotted over to you, manhandling you to get Remus’ sweater over your head. 

“Y/N,” James tattled. “They think they’re getting coffee at this hour.” He laughed like you were being obviously ridiculous. “They also have a headache and didn’t tell us.” You must’ve looked absolutely appalled and quickly floundered to control the damages. 

“I didn’t think it was important! It’s not bad anyway.” 

“Well, let’s try to keep it from getting bad.” Remus handed you a steaming cup of hot cocoa, along with a packet of biscuits. “Here, eat these so you can take some pain pills.” He glanced over to James, making the bespectacled boy rummage through the medicine box while Sirius set on getting a glass of water for you. 

“I don’t need any medicine, it will go away on its own.” You pleaded, covering your mouth full of biscoff and feeling flustered from all the attention. Sirius clearly disagreed, because the comment earned you a hard pinch on your bum. 

“Do what Moons said” He punctuated the order with a kiss to your forehead, letting you know he wasn’t really upset with you. Sirius may play stern, but he was really just silly and enjoyed ordering you around a bit, knowing that it made you heated and blushy. 

You set down your hot drink and half-eaten snack to take the pills and water, swallowing your pills and finishing the whole glass before you handed it back. 

“There you go,” James cooed, pulling you into his side. “That’s a good girl” 

You groaned, earning a dark chuckle from Remus.

"Poor baby," He teased, clearly not feeling very sorry for you.

It was going to be a trying night.

[fyodor-s-rat]

BUNGOU STRAY DOGS - you telling them "please, be gentle" before your first time

ft.: dazai, chuuya, kunikida, ranpo, akutagawa, fyodor, edgar

tw: nsfw!!

"Please, be gentle..."

Dazai

oh boy, he's enjoying himself too much

he's very cocky about the whole thing, he's teasing you because he loves how easily frustrated you are

but at the same time, he's honored that you chose him for this special occasion

how could he resist to you? you were so beautiful

when you let out these words, he stopped teasing and actually showed some affection

"Don't worry, belladona, everything will be okay. We can stop whenever you want."

Chuuya

like Dazai, he's also proud that you trust him enough to be your first

i feel like he would make everything kinda romantic, candles, roses, red wine, etc.

even though he has a short temper, he would be patient with you

he would take time to prepare you, he definitely thinks that foreplay is very important before sex, especially when it's your first one

so prepare for long making out and cumming on his fingers first

after a while, when you said those words, he just gave you a smirk

"I will be as gentle as you want, sweetheart."

Kunikida

first time with Kunikida would be the best

this man knows exactly what to do

he tries to make everything perfect. every little detail. including the time, the place, the atmosphere,...

he would keep asking if you really want to do this and if you're comfortable

but you were secretly nervous

when those words left your mouth, he gave you a reassuring smile.

"Y/n, you have nothing to worry about with me. I'll be extremely gentle, I promise."

Ranpo

when you told him that you want to have your first time with him, Ranpo felt even more confident than usual

even though he doesn't have much experience, he would be a great lover

when he heard you say those words, he just replied with a cocky smile:

"Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about. You couldn't have chosen anyone better than me, the greatest detective."

you just frowned.

his thrusts are slow and sensual

he's keeping you close to his body, stroking your cheek

constantly making sure you're okay

Akutagawa

you're also his first, so you would be both nervous

he doesn't admit it tho

however, you can easily see through him

you see how frustrated he is, how his cheeks burn, how he's already sweaty

you would be the one reassuring him that it will be okay, i think

but when you said those words, Akutagawa realised how much you depend on him

he wouldn't really know what to say

"I... won't be harsh, I promise. If it... hurts or something, tell me."

boy would be extremely gentle, constantly worrying about hurting you and not living up to your expectations

Fyodor

why would you choose him to lose your virginity to?

i have absolutely no idea how experienced Fyodor is, but he would act confident no matter what

he would enjoy this little moment with you so much

he would love how you entrust your body to him

how he has complete power over you

he obviously knows how nervous you are, but he doesn't even try to reassure you

hovewer, when you whispered those words, he actually showed some kind of affection.

"Darling, I don't want to harm you in any way, I still have plans for you."

even though you didn't really understand what he meant, he somehow managed to slowly and gently thrust into you, trying to cause you as little pain as possible

Edgar

he would be probably more nervous than you before your first time

he would be constantly worrying and asking you if you really want it

it might be annoying, but honestly it's lovely how caring he is

"My sweet Y/n, of course that I will be gentle. I will be extremely careful, if you get uncomfortable, tell me. Promise?"

he, indeed, was extremely gentle with you.

-

[clockwayswrites]

Ficleting Together Start:

cw: internalized abelism as issues with therapy and mental help, injury

Jason had an imaginary friend. He hadn't always. He wasn't like most children who had one when they were just learning to understand the world around them. He hadn't even had one on the streets when he was so desperately lonely for anyone to offer him kindness. No, Jason hadn't had one until he had become Robin— until he had become magic.

He didn't actually think his friend was so imaginary.

Bruce and Dick did, though. It was actually the first conversation that they had that didn’t end in shouting in months. Jason had listened to the whole thing through a vent on the other side of Bruce’s study. There were concerns of him regressing. Apparently it was something that could happen to traumatized— and fuck he hated that word, traumatized— children when they finally got somewhere safe.

Dick thought Jason would benefit from therapy. Worse, Bruce agreed. It turned out that went Jason took part in the shouting match it could be so much worse.

“I’m not crazy! I don’t need to see a fucking therapist!” Jason screamed.

He wasn’t helping his case, he knew that. But he wasn’t crazy! They couldn’t lock him up. He wasn’t crazy. It already felt like he was locked up. The study felt suddenly small. The lights too bright. The furniture too big. Bruce and Dick were too big.

“Jay-lad, that’s not what we’re saying,” Bruce tried.

“I’m not talking any pills!”

“No one is talking pills, Jay,” Dick said. He stepped forward, reaching a hand out.

It would be comforting. Jason knew that. Dick’s touch was always comforting.

He gave great hugs.

He wasn’t like—

Jason ran.

Jason bolted out of the room and past Alfred and out the door and into the woods that surrounded Wayne Manor. He ran past trees and shrubs and rocks that all looked the same. He ran until his legs were burning and he couldn’t catch his breath and—

The dirt, damp from the fall rainstorms gave under Jason’s feet. For a moment he was standing on nothing. It felt just like when Bruce had said that he had arranged a therapist for Jason. It felt like his world had fallen out from under him. And then Jason was falling, tumbling down the rock face that up the small hillside that Jason had been running along.

He screamed as something in his leg snapped, the noise was cut short as his head bounced against the rock and snapped his jaw closed. Even when he stopped rolling, the world swam around him. Jason closed his eyes and tried to stop himself from hurling. It was close. Jason lost time counting his breaths through the pain.

And then they were there.

Jason knew it, he always knew it.

It’s why he didn’t think they were imaginary.

He couldn’t help the sob that ripped from his throat as he felt their presence settle against his side. “I’m not crazy. You’re real. I know you are.”

Jason didn’t hear their response. It wasn’t like they spoke. But Jason could feel their response: a rumble of reassurance, a bubble of wry humor that Jason didn’t understand, and an undercurrent of worry.

“I’ll be okay,” Jason said. It had started to get dark. When had it started to get dark? “I’ll be okay.”

A cold sensation pressed against his brow.

He could close his eyes for a little longer.

He’d be okay.

“Jason! Oh god, Jason. Bruce! It’s over here! Please be alive.”

Jason whined as hand touched his neck.

Murmured Romani filled Jason’s ears as his world went black.

---

The voted prompts were Danny/Jason, soulmates/bond, Eldritch. This isn't going where I thought it would, but that's the fun of it! I might just tack all the parts onto this thread an not do an update thread since this shouldn't be too long (famous last words) but we'll see. I have at least two scenes that I know I want to do.

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝐴𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑛 𝑥 𝑊𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

♡ㅤ𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝅄ㅤೀ

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

The corridors were unusually quiet, with only the distant hum of conversation echoing through the stone walls. You had been wandering, lost in thought, when a sharp, unexpected sound reached your ears. A loud, ringing slap followed by a pained cry made your heart leap in your chest. You hurried towards the source, dread pooling in your stomach. As you reached the end of the corridor, your worst fears were realized. Aegon sat on the floor, his tiny body trembling as he let out soft, hiccuping sobs. His silver curls were a tousled mess, sticking to his tear-soaked cheeks, which were flushed a rosy pink from crying. His big, round eyes, were filled with tears that clung to his long lashes before spilling down his face. His little mouth was turned down in a quivering pout, making his whole face scrunch up in a way that was heartbreaking. As soon as he saw you, Aegon let out a desperate little whimper and reached up with his chubby arms, his fingers wiggling for you to pick him up. "P’etty!" he cried out, his voice tiny and filled with the raw, innocent emotion of a toddler who just wanted comfort. "P’etty, up! Up, p’ease!" His words were mixed with hiccups, making his plea sound even more pitiful.

You didn’t hesitate for a second. Scooping him up into your arms, you felt his little body immediately press against yours, his tiny hands clutching onto your gown as though he never wanted to let go. "Oh, my sweet Aegon," you murmured, cradling him close and rubbing soothing circles on his back. "I’m here, darling. I’m here." He looked up at you, his tear-filled eyes filled with a mix of confusion and pain. "M-Mummy... Mummy hit Aegon," he whimpered, his voice trembling as he struggled to make sense of the situation. Aegon snuggled his tear-streaked face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath coming in uneven puffs against your skin as he tried to calm down. "M-Mummy mad..." he whimpered, his voice muffled and shaky. "Aegon not bad... Aegon sowwy, P’etty… sowwy..." His words were so soft and slurred that you had to strain to hear them, each one pulling at your heartstrings. Your heart ached as you gently rocked him back and forth, pressing kisses into his soft, silver curls. "Shh, it’s okay, Aegon. You’re not bad, my love. You’re the best little boy in the whole world," you whispered, your voice full of warmth and reassurance. "I'm here now. No more tears, okay?" Aegon nodded against you, though his little body continued to tremble. His tiny hands, warm and soft, clung to you with surprising strength for someone so small. "P’etty stay with Aegon?" he asked, his voice breaking with a mixture of hope and fear. "No go? P’etty stay?" “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” you promised, squeezing him gently as you rocked him. “I’ll stay right here with you.” Aegon sniffled, his little nose wrinkling as he tried to stop crying. "P’etty love Aegon?" he asked in the sweetest, most tentative voice, as though he needed to hear it just one more time to believe it was true. "More than anything in the whole world," you whispered, feeling your heart swell with emotion. "I love you so much, Aegon. Always." Aegon’s cries slowly began to subside as he snuggled against you, finding comfort in your presence. “P’etty good,” he said softly, his little voice filled with a hopeful trust. “Aegon love P’etty.” Your heart melted at his words. You hugged him tighter, feeling the warmth and love of his tiny frame against you. “I love you too, Aegon,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “More than anything.” As you gently rocked Aegon in your arms, his little body trembled with the remnants of his sobs. His tear-streaked face was tucked against your shoulder, but you could feel him trying to calm down, clinging to you with his chubby hands. You kissed the top of his head, your heart breaking for the little boy who seemed so lost and sad. "Aegon, sweetheart, can you tell me what happened?" you asked softly, your voice full of concern and love. Aegon sniffled, his big, tear-filled eyes looking up at you, full of confusion and hurt. "M-Mummy… Mummy mad," he whispered, his small voice trembling as he tried to explain. "Aegon want to play… with Mummy… she no no no…" he said as he shake his head left and right.

You nodded gently, encouraging him to continue. "And what happened then, darling?" you asked, brushing a tear from his rosy cheek. Aegon’s lower lip wobbled, and fresh tears welled up in his eyes. "Aegon ask again… and Mummy hit Aegon," he said, his voice breaking as he recalled the moment. His little hands clutched your gown tightly, seeking comfort. "Aegon not bad… Aegon just want to play…" Your heart ached as you held him closer, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Oh, Aegon, you’re not bad, darling," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "You just wanted to play, and that’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong."

Aegon sniffled again, his face scrunching up as he tried to hold back more tears. "M-Mummy said… she said Aegon bad…" he stammered, his voice shaking. "She… she hate Aegon…" The words cut through you like a knife, but you kept your focus on comforting the little boy in your arms. "She said that?" you asked gently, trying to keep your voice steady. "Oh, Aegon, my sweet boy…" Aegon nodded, his small body shaking with fresh sobs. "Aegon don't want Mummy mad… Aegon want her to love him… play with him…" he whimpered, burying his face in your shoulder as he cried. "Aegon want Mummy happy…" Tears stung your eyes as you held him tighter, kissing his silver curls. "Aegon, you are so, so loved," you whispered, your voice full of warmth and reassurance. "You are a wonderful, sweet boy, and it’s not your fault. Sometimes people say things they don’t mean, but that doesn’t make them true. You are not bad, and you are loved more than you can ever know." You held him close, feeling his small body relax in your arms as his tears finally dried. As you began to hum a soft lullaby, Aegon’s eyes grew heavy, and soon he was fast asleep, his little face peaceful and serene against your shoulder. Even in sleep, his tiny hand remained wrapped around your gown, as if to make sure you were still there.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 – @naslt @bogbutteronmycroissant @radiantdanvers @dracaryxzs @writtenbyhollywood @danytar

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[faesdreaming]

Yandere Deity - Altar

tw: yandere behaviour, possessive/obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, diety uses he/him pronouns, gaslighting, yandere using his abilities to mess with reader’s perception of reality

“Haven’t you come to worship at my altar?”

•A lone Deity part of a forgotten pantheon, lost to the sands of time. What once was a bountiful temple; filled with offerings and gifts of fruits, meats, candles, with sounds of prayers and hymns of worship ringing through the halls, people streaming in to sing his praise, is now nothing but an empty ruin.

•He’s so very lonely. Nary a person has come to visit him in centuries. Years pass by and he has nothing, no one. Until you. A fateful eve when you happen upon the temple. Hidden away in the heart of a lush jungle, you, an archaeologist, find your El Dorado, your city of gold. You’d long since heard tales of a lost civilization, an Atlantis on land. Yet, here the remnants lay in front of your eyes.

•At the heart of the ruins lays a temple, grand and golden. Although time has chipped away at its’ grandeur, it’s still glorious, in your opinion. It’s a testament to humanity’s evolution. You don’t notice him though, no one does. But he’s noticed you. Nosy little thing, aren’t you? Impudent, little mortal wretch. He ought to kill you for your audacity. Daring to defile his sacred temple, you deserve nothing but the most painful end,

•But, you’re not actually defiling it, are you? You’re so respectful, treating every artifact as though it were the Holy Grail. You revere his temple, it’s a wonder, a marvel to you. It, you treatment, you reverence— you make him feel something new, something foreign. The attention you give him is intoxicating. He’s been forgotten, left behind. Yet, you’re here now. And he isn’t going to let you go.

•So, when a series of natural disasters occurs and suddenly your team is halved, some leaving after the first incident, others meeting fates you don’t want to recall. The others are slowly losing hope, they’ve lost friends, money, time to your passion project. This is your life’s work, you can’t just give up, can you? You don’t want to. You really don’t. But you’re smart enough to know when to cut your losses.

•Then, another freak accident hits. This time is more devastating. Nobody escaped unscathed, nobody escapes at all. Nobody is except for you. You slip in and out of consciousness. One moment, you’re in the rubble amongst your dead coworkers and friends, and suddenly you’re in a bed, soft and warm. You’re delirious, unable to actually make out anything. But you’re certain there’s someone taking care of you. A man. A beautiful man, something, someone, divine. His touch is soft and gentle. Caring even. He placates you with sweet platitudes you can’t quite comprehend in this state, but the smooth baritone of his voice makes your heart soar.

•When you fully regain consciousness, you’re able to see your surroundings. You’re in a room filled with luxury. Ornate decor, golden furniture, the whole nine yards. It’s impressive, if not a little, a lot, off-putting. How did you get here? Who was the man taking care of you? Thousands of questions and thoughts flood your mind. It’s interrupted by him, the man.

“You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”

���You blink in confusion. It’s—he’s— everything is too much. Too overwhelming. He chuckles, it’s a rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. He reassures you, slowly and gently placing a strong hand of on your shoulder. There’s something commanding in his soft tone, something compelling you to swallow the lump in your throat and obey. He laughs again and you blush.

•He introduces himself as the one who’s been taking care of you. Doesn’t offer you any explanation as to why, but you ought to be grateful. After all, you could have been left out to die. He offers you food and water. You eat like a man starved and drink the water as though it were the sweetest ambrosia. He offers to let you stay here— where is here?— with him.

“You may leave whenever you decide to leave.”

•He promises, even escorts you out of the room, down halls that moves and shift, and spin around. You’re dizzy, delirious, unable to care for yourself. He carries you back to the room. How embarrassing. Your apologies when you regain your composure are shrugged off. It’s fine, he insists. You’re sick, vulnerable. He reiterates his offer, stay until you get better— you could’ve sworn he said stay forever— and are able to fend for yourself. You nod your head in agreement. It’s the logical choice, really. You’d probably die on your own.

•He smiles a brilliant smile at you, swears he’ll care for you diligently. And he has been, hasn’t he? You’re beginning to trust him, have faith— why?— in him. He stays true to his word. Working tirelessly to care for not only your body but your mind as well. Sleepless nights are spent with him by your side, telling you folktales and myths, singing soft lullabies to lull you to sleep, or even merely conversing with you. Days are spent improving your health. He feeds you by hand sometimes when you are too weak to do it yourself. When your health shows signs of improvement, you both go on walks, exploring the extensive gardens and many palace— temple, building, you’re not sure where you are— halls.

•He gifts you with many things too. Soft silk robes, shining jewels, ancient tomes and books, everything you desire you’re given. It’s not your fault, really, that you start to love him— do you?— especially not when’s he’s so kind. So handsome, beautiful really. He looks inhuman, like something divine. He’s attentive and nurturing. Your own prince charming. Your feelings grow as time progresses— how long has it been, you need to leave— until you can’t contain it.

•One day, as he presses a warm cloth to your forehead, you notice just how close he is. How he’s just out of touch. You greedily drink it in, unconsciously inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. The kiss is soft, chaste and you immediately pull away. Your stammering and feeble apologies are interrupted by his hand cupping your cheek. He leans in, your heart thumping in your chest, and kisses you again. This time, you don’t pull away.

•He, your lover, your heart loves you too. It’s surreal— too surreal— and your days spent together become all the more special. You’re utterly content with him, he’s become the air you breathe, the light of your life, you’re everything. It’s only natural for you to become consumed by him. By your life with your beloved— to forget you ever had a life before— spending eternity forever in his arms.

“We only have until forever, love.”

[itoshiexx]

wonder

synopsis: sae wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 800 | warnings: established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, sae is stupidly in love with u

notes: why hello! i'm barely alive! i know i kinda disappeared but i was struggling with personal issues and my mental health, so i didn't really have creativity to write. i'm not sure i like this either, but i couldn't let sae bae's bday go by without posting anything. also this is slightly inspired by the song "wonder - shawn mendes". thank you for your love and patience! <3

masterlist

there are certain things itoshi sae would never admit. like the way he loved calm walks at the beach or how seagulls were his favorite animal. how he secretly regret hurting his little brother’s feelings when he was a stupid teenager. how his life was way lonelier than the world could even imagine, making him hate the walls of his oh so empty apartment.

mostly, he would never admit he wondered what it was like to be loved — not just by anyone, though, but to be loved by you.

he’s not sure when it started. he can’t pinpoint the exact moment his heart began beating faster and his black and white world was filled with color, but he does know that, inevitably, it all comes back to you, like you’re some sort of big bang that created his whole existence. itoshi sae doesn’t think he was actually himself before he became yours.

if you ask him, he’d say it’s a bit pathetic, really. he was never a guy that cared about romance, and he definitely didn’t believe in the concept of a love that could sweep you off your feet, like the hollywood movies desperately tried to sell. perhaps one of the reasons he liked you so much was because you managed to prove him wrong, and not many people were able to do that. 

sae was usually right. but you, in his life — that was even more right than his stupid beliefs. 

“sae, i need to get up,” your voice breaks him from his stupor, and, instinctively, his hold on your waist tightens. it’s some sort of protection, he thinks. not to you, but to protect him from the pain of having you stray away. 

(he never wants to let go).

the football player twists his body to trap you even further on the mattress, burying his face on your chest and tangling his legs with yours. your giggle reverberates through his whole body and brings warmth to his cheeks. his heart flutters, and he can’t even find it in him to hate it. 

you must have put a spell on him, he concludes.

“i’m serious. i need to make breakfast,” you say again when he doesn’t answer.

“don’t wanna.”

“you don’t want breakfast?”

“nuh-uh.”

you giggle again, and this time, you seem to give in, relaxing your body and welcoming him in your embrace. sae can only sigh in satisfaction when you card your fingers through his reddish-brown locks, relishing in the peace only you seem to be able to give him.

“i wonder what people would think if they knew how clingy the all mighty itoshi sae can be,” the teasing lit in your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you earn a scoff.

“shut up,” he quips, although there’s no real bite in it. “you love me.”

and you must not be from this world, because it’s easy — the way you pick up on any slight nuance of his voice or demeanor. it’s so fucking easy for you to read him like an open book and to give the reassurance he so desperately needs; albeit unaware. 

your voice becomes impossibly soft, “i do, baby. i love you so much.”

you kiss his forehead, and after wandering around for so long, sae thinks he’s finally home. 

for a while, you two just stay there, in bed, wrapped in each other in a way you can’t know where he starts and where you end. the thought of being one with you makes him happy, but that’s just another item in his long list of things he would never admit. 

your sweet voice breaks the silence. 

“we’re gonna be in bed all day?” there’s nothing but pure curiosity in your voice. no judgment — you never judge him, despite the way he deserves it sometimes. the thought makes his chest tighten with the amount of love he has harbored just for you.

sometimes he thinks he’s too small for it, and he’s scared all this love will overflow and consume him whole. though, it’s even scarier to think he wouldn’t mind: sae is yours. you can have all that he has and all that he is. 

“just a little longer,” he whispers, a little more vulnerable than he would like. but it’s okay. it’s always okay when it’s you. “please?”

you hum in agreement, continuing to caress his hair. 

“of course. whatever the birthday boy wants.”

sae allows himself to close his eyes and bask in your warmth, on the safety that you so effortlessly gave him. by smelling your perfume, he’s filled with gratitude for all the times he wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

“happy birthday, love.”

he’s glad he doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[mclacedes]

The Idea of You (LN4)

2. The Idea of Worthiness

summary: in which lando decides to make it up for ghostin you

previous ••• next

WARNINGS: it's pretty much all angst. in-depth described anxiety attack, anxious behaviour/mannerisms, description of depression and suicidal ideation, loneliness

wc: 3k

“but what if i can't do it?”

A/N: before anything else, i want to make it clear that my intention is NOT to trigger any kind of trauma in anyone with this. the reader has been warned of potential triggers. if you are going through some kind of psychological hardship, know that there are people who care and who worry <3 you are never 100% alone!

january 1st, 2024 — 3:30pm

you came home with a knot in your chest that seemed to tighten with every breath. the morning had been a blur, an awkward dance around lando’s mother as you searched for a polite excuse to leave.

of course you'd chosen the most simple and non-negotiable of lies: i need to spend some time with my relatives.

despite it being faintly true, you knew you'd spend the whole day with lando's family if the circumstances were different.

the night's words lingered in your mind as you walked out, wishing it could cover the truth: you couldn’t bear the thought of facing lando after what had happened—or rather, after what didn’t happen.

now, the silence in your own home was suffocating. you slumped onto the couch, your mind replaying the scene on a loop: lando's words, lando's reassurance, the way his lips had bruised yours, the heat of his breath so close, his hands on you, his hands in you, his fingers’ magic, and then... you wake up alone.

now, you knew lando felt the same, you knew that things could work out, you knew just the intensity of your feelings for him. but you also knew he hadn't texted you back all day and, seemingly, nobody knew where he was.

as his closest friend, you knew that he'd only have left that way if something really bad had happened.

what you didn't know though, was how bad it felt for him.

it had been a long time since lando had received the diagnosis. after years of wondering what was wrong with him and why he felt such a void within himself, he'd been told he had depression.

what they say is that treatment is easier when you have the right diagnosis, but that doesn't erase the fact that some days were infinitely more difficult than others—harder to get out of bed, harder to leave the house, to work, and singularly hard to live, specially because the latter is the last thing you want during a depressive episode.

he started going to therapy regularly when he was a minor, forced by his parents, but when he became an adult he left—said that talking about how horrible he felt wouldn't help, it would only make him feel worse.

and then the episodes gradually became worse as his life improve. for example, before arriving in F1, he oftentimes found himself fighting against the urge to simply end it all: the pain, the suffering, the disruption, the constant failed attempt at a better day, his very life.

even though he never attempted it, lando was caught contemplating the possibility of the end; he used to wonder how people would react when they heard "lando norris died, suicide", what it would be like if he wasn't here anymore.

“such a kind soul”

“such a beautiful boy”

“smart, funny”

“talented guy”

that's what people would say, in the best of cases.

in the worse of cases people wouldn't even notice he was gone.

well, following next to depression was anxiety.

lando’s anxiety was a constant undercurrent to his depression, feeding off it, amplifying it, tangling him further in a web of self-doubt. it was always there, an invisible weight pressing down, but some days it grew loud enough to silence every other part of him, like a swarm of thoughts buzzing incessantly, trapping him in a looping worry about everything and nothing all at once.

it started with racing—the very thing he loved was also the source of his most unrelenting fears. despite his undeniable talent and the acclaim he’d earned, the worry always crept in: what if i mess up? what if i’m not good enough? what if it’s all just a fluke, and one day everyone realizes i’m a fraud?

he dreaded that moment when the lights turned green, not because of the physical danger but because of the psychological toll—that split-second when any mistake, any misstep, could spiral out into a visible, unforgivable failure.

even beyond racing, the anxiety spilled into every facet of his life. he overthought every message he sent, every interaction, analyzing them for any hint of rejection, any confirmation of his worst fears. if he didn’t receive a response right away, his mind spun stories, convincing him he’d somehow upset the person or made a fool of himself.

and now, with you, it was worse. his feelings were tangled with worry and doubt; he feared you’d eventually see through his flaws, his bad days, his cracks, and walk away. the closeness you’d shared the night before terrified him. he wanted you desperately, yet that desire to let you in also exposed him to his greatest fear: that he would scare you away merely by the fact that he existed.

this anxiety could sometimes send him into a state of paralysis, leaving him unable to reach out, unable to bridge the gap even when he wanted nothing more than to feel your presence, to hear your voice. today was one of those days—the aftermath of a moment so perfect, so vulnerable, that his mind filled with a thousand worries. he couldn’t bring himself to message you, to even show you the rawness of his internal struggle. instead, he withdrew, waiting for the fog to clear enough for him to reach for you again.

but you had tried.

you: lando hey

you: i'm worried abt u

you: text me whenever u get the chance pls

you: i'm right here if you wanna talk”

there were another 20 texts of kindred nature from you in his phone—you spent the afternoon rewinding what had happened, wondering if there were any signs that he would do something to himself or… the devil god knows what.

you had barely moved or done anything at all since you had gotten home because lando still hadn’t texted back, and the worry in your chest was growing impossible to ignore.

you’d known him for years—long enough to see the shadows he kept hidden behind his easy smile. he had always brushed off the subject, deflecting it with humor or quick changes in conversation. but today, his silence was colder, sharper, more unsettling than usual.

hours had passed since you last saw him, and finally, you gave in and sent him a message, trying not to let the desperation seep through.

you: lando, i hope you’re alright. let me know when you’re home safe, ok?

the message delivered, but no ‘read’ receipt appeared. your heart sank, and as you stared at the screen, scenarios spun wildly in your mind.

lando was good at hiding. he knew how to pour himself into everything and everyone else, keeping busy, laughing, entertaining—until he couldn’t. when the episodes came, he retreated so far into himself that it was like trying to find someone in a pitch-black room.

you tried calling him. the line rang and rang, finally going to voicemail. your voice was barely a whisper as you left a message.

“lando… if you see this, please just… come home. or let me know you’re okay. i’m here, alright? no matter what, i’m here.”

when the call ended, the silence in your apartment felt just as cold as his void.

—

unbeknownst to you, he was okay.

at least that's what he said to max when he called saying cisca was worried about him. and thats what he said when he called his mom.

“i’m okay.”

but he knew there was nothing okay with him right now.

far away, in his silent retreat, a wave of coldness washed over him, and his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. that feeling in his chest was known: he was panicking.

it felt like the walls were closing in, a vice squeezing his chest tighter with every passing second. his hands trembled, fingers twitching as if searching for something to anchor him, to ground him in reality. he fought to keep his breathing steady, but the more he tried, the more elusive calm became. memories of your kiss haunted him—both a balm and a wound. how could something so beautiful leave him feeling so lost?

what if i’m not enough for her? he thought

a tight knot of fear formed in his stomach, mingling with the ache of longing. was he really ready for this? for you? for love? the questions spiraled, colliding with the weight of his own expectations and the pressure of his career. he couldn’t shake the sense that he was on the brink of something monumental, yet all he felt was the crushing weight of uncertainty.

the doubt crept in, fueled by echoes of his past, whispers of inadequacy that had followed him through the years. he recalled the stinging memories of being told he wasn’t good enough, of moments when his efforts felt like they never quite measured up. every trophy he’d won and every incredible milestone he had achieved done little to silence those voices. instead, they morphed into an insidious belief that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be a step behind, always falling short.

what if she hates me?

with you, the stakes felt impossibly high. what if he couldn’t be the partner you deserved? what if the pressure of the spotlight overwhelmed him and drove you away? those thoughts twisted in his gut, feeding the anxiety that swelled within him. he imagined you in a world where he wasn’t there, finding someone who could offer you the stability and unwavering support he feared he lacked. the very thought crushed him, deepening the ache in his chest, as it reminded him of all the times he had to fight for validation, only to come up empty-handed.

he was scared of what loving you meant, terrified of failing you, terrified of failing himself. the weight of it all felt unbearable, a heavy blanket of dread that threatened to suffocate him.

what if i fail her?

lando was too scared, too anxious. with every breath, his lungs ached, and with every tear that gathered in his eyes, he felt weaker. it was as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground crumbling beneath him, and the vast unknown loomed below—a place filled with possibilities but also with the risk of falling into darkness. he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, trying to ground himself as the rising tide of emotions threatened to pull him under.

every heartbeat felt like a reminder of his vulnerability, a painful pulse that echoed the uncertainty gnawing at his core. he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something profound, yet all he could focus on was the suffocating fear of not being enough. the love he felt for you, so pure and intoxicating, was also a heavy burden, weighed down by his past failures and fears. the thought of letting you down, of not living up to the promise of what could be, sent chills racing down his spine.

she's too perfect, i'm a mess

as tears spilled over and streamed down his cheeks, he felt a mix of shame and desperation. lando had always prided himself on being strong, on facing challenges head-on, yet here he was—vulnerable and exposed, battling an internal storm that felt relentless. the very act of loving you felt like a gamble, one that he wasn't sure he was ready to take. would he be brave enough to step forward, to embrace the chaos of his heart, or would he retreat back into the safety of his own fears?

with every sob that escaped him, the overwhelming tide of emotion pulled him deeper, and he struggled to keep his head above water. the thought of calling you, of reaching out for the connection he craved, felt both necessary and terrifying. what if you saw him like this—raw, broken, and afraid? what if he could never find the words to explain what he felt, or worse, what if you saw him as nothing more than a disappointment?

what if she saw me for who i truly am?

taking a shaky breath, he reached for his phone thrown on the couch, sitting on it. his hands were still trembling as he dialed the only person, besides you, who he knew wouldn't judge, but understand him.

“hey, mate, how you doing?” max fewtrell greeted him with his usual easy grin, only for the smile to falter the second he took in lando’s state: tears streaked his face, his eyes swollen and red, his nose and cheeks raw from wiping at them. his lips, split and bloodied, told the story of how he’d been biting them all day. lando’s breath hitched in his throat, his words barely making it out.

“hey… mate, i—” he tried, but the lump in his throat choked him. lando couldn’t even speak.

“lando, what happened?” max said, his voice low and steady, concern etched across his face.

“i think i… i fucked things up with Y/N,” lando's voice cracked, desperation pouring from him as if his world was unraveling right there in front of max.

the sight in front of max sent a chill through his spine. lando's looks, disheveled, like he’d been pulling at it in frustration all day. his bright green eyes were dulled, sunken and rimmed with red. the bags beneath them were dark, a stark contrast against his pale skin. his hands trembled on his knees, unable to steady themselves. his chest heaved, like the panic was consuming him from the inside, leaving only a fragile shell of the person max had known for years.

lando wiped at his face, the back of his hand coming away wet. he shook his head, sinking deeper into the couch.

“we kissed, we slept together and i pushed her away, max. i—i could’ve stayed. i could’ve—” his breath caught again, ragged and uneven. “but i left with no explanation. i went up and left her there, max… i’m so stupid.” he cried out.

lando’s breath hitched, and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears, but it was no use. his shoulders shook, and a sob escaped him, raw and unfiltered. he hadn’t felt this way in a long time—like he was too broken to be loved.

"max, i’m a mess," he whispered, his voice cracking. "i couldn’t stay, i couldn’t even look at her this morning because… because she deserves better. i mean, look at me," he gestured to himself, his hands trembling. “i’m fucked up, max. i couldn’t even say the words, couldn’t even be honest. how can i be with her when i don’t even know what’s going on in my own head?”

max’s brows furrowed, his face softening as he listened. lando looked like he was spiraling, and it hurt max to see his best friend like this—feeling like he didn’t deserve something good because he was caught in his own storm.

“lando, mate,” max started, carefully choosing his words, “you’re not as messed up as you think you are. yeah, you’ve got stuff going on, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve her, or that you don’t deserve to be happy. and running away from her because you think you’re too broken for her… that’s not the answer.”

lando shook his head, wiping at his eyes, his voice trembling as he spoke. “but i am broken, max. i don’t even know how to deal with my own shit, let alone someone else’s. she’s this… this amazing person, and i’m just… i’m just me. she deserves someone who has it all figured out, not someone who’s going to bolt the second things get real.”

max let out a breath, leaning forward a bit. “no one has it all figured out, lando. not me, not her, not anyone. she’s not expecting you to be perfect, she’s expecting you to be real with her. that’s all. and yeah, maybe you’re not in the best place right now, but you can’t let that be the reason you push her away.”

lando let the words sink in, but it didn’t ease the heaviness inside him. “i left because i thought… i thought i’d hurt her more by staying. i didn’t want her to see me like this. i didn’t want her to see how much of a mess i am.”

“but by leaving, you hurt her anyway,” max said gently. “because she cares about you. and if you care about her too, you’ve got to let her in, even if it’s messy, even if you don’t have all the answers. it’s okay to not have everything together, lando. it’s okay to be scared. but you can’t run from this.”

lando swallowed hard, staring at the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch until his knuckles turned white. max was right. he had run—run because he didn’t think he was good enough, run because the idea of her seeing all his cracks terrified him.

“but what if i can’t do it? what if i let her down again?” lando’s voice was barely audible now, thick with doubt.

max’s expression softened even more. “then you figure it out, together. but you’ve got to give her the chance to make that choice. don’t decide for her that you’re not good enough. let her in. let her see you, even the parts you’re scared to show. that’s how you build something real.”

lando’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, his heart pounding in his chest. the thought of opening up like that—to be fully seen, in all his messiness, all his vulnerability—scared him more than any race ever had. but the thought of losing Y/N, of pushing her away because of his own fear… that scared him even more.

“yeah, sure,” lando whispered, his voice hoarse. “i need to talk to her. i need to fix this.”

max smiled softly, relief flickering in his eyes. “yeah, mate. you do.”

after bidding his best friend farewell, lando sat and tried to calm himself down by pressing his fingers with exposed raw flesh due to the fact he had gnawed at his own hands out of anxiety. he had to come up with something to make it up to you. he needed to.

TAGGINGS: @meglouise00 @rawr-123s-stuff

[dollfacefantasy]

Hey girly, love ur writing!!! could you do a leon x fem reader and they are doing the deed and there are other people there are they are tryna stay quiet 🤭🤭 like i lowk imagine leon being kinda needy but idk! thank u girl!!

thank you so much and ofc, here's a little drabble for this <3

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, exhibitionism (someone else in the room)

"Leon. Be quiet. He's gonna wake up," you whine, taking extra care to keep your voice lowered.

"I'm trying, baby. Not my fault you're so fucking tight," he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You had picked up your boyfriend and his friend Chris from the airport earlier that day. It was a long drive. Apparently their sectors of the government didn't have the competence to drop them a little bit closer to where you lived. You had insisted on just driving through the night, but Leon and Chris were exhausted. They wanted to stretch out on a bed and pass out for the night. Even if the hotel you'd come across only had one available room left.

You feel another moan about to seep from Leon's lips. In an effort to prevent this, you dig your nails into his forearm which was over your chest. His hand rested on your throat, giving him leverage to continue plowing into you from behind.

The little crescents do nothing to silence him and only serve to turn his low pitched moan into a needy whine.

"Leon, shut up!" you whimper.

Your eyes are locked on Chris as your boyfriend ruts into you. His hips smack against your ass, but he's not going fast enough to make any disturbing noise.

"Hush, honey, he sleeps like a fucking rock, trust me," he whispers.

He aims to reassure you with some wet kisses behind your ear. You knew this was wrong and that you should've protested. If Chris did wake up, you'd be humiliated and guilty. But fuck, he just felt so good.

His cock keeps sliding into your soaked cunt just right. Each stroke hits another mark of pleasure. It was a miracle you were able to keep some semblance of composure. To keep yourself quiet, you clutch the blankets in your fists though, so hard it nearly pains you. Leon didn't have the same discipline. This entire time his panting and whimpering drips right into your ear. The noises were among your favorites in the world, always guranteed to make you squirm.

"That's it. That's a good girl," he coos upon hearing no further protests, "Just relax for me, babydoll."

The thought was a persuasive one. You could feel yourself beginning to melt into the crisp hotel sheets just like how you would in your own bed at home. Half of your face presses against the pillow case. His hips never stop moving beneath the blankets. He couldn't get enough of your velvety warmth wrapped around him.

As you feel yourself starting to build to that sweet release, you see Chris start to shift. Your eyes had been locked on him the whole time, preparing for this exact scenario. Panic floods your mind. Had he been awake since the beginning? Had he been watching? Was he pissed?

Your heart pounds even harder against your ribcage as your fingers release the blanket and return to his arm.

"Leon!" you gasp.

He can tell from the infliction in your tone that it's not a gasp of ecstasy. His thrusts come to a screeching halt. His eyes that were half-lidded with a combination of lust and fatigue open a little more. He spots the same movement you did.

Fairly certain it was some usual tossing and turning, he pulls you closer to his chest and nuzzles the side of your head.

"Stay quiet, babe. We're gonna be fine," he whispers even quieter than before.

The two of you do exactly that. You stay still and silent. It was kind of nice, the calm feeling of just being full without any sparks of pleasure. But Leons arm begins to move.

Your eyes dart down and watch his limb slither below your t-shirt and up to your breast, taking one of the warm mounds in his hand. He just rests it there as the both of you continue to pretend to sleep as if he needed to feel more of you. Being buried inside of you just wasn't enough to sate his desire.

As soon as Chris has settled facing the opposite direction and you're both confident he's fast asleep, Leon begins pumping his hips again. And with the return of the movement, comes the return of his noises. He grunts, groans, mewls. Anything he needs to in order to spur on his own release.

You just let him this time without any complaints, figuring he may finish and get you to finish a bit faster with the lack of bickering.

His cock begins to pulse within you. As his thrusts get sloppier and a bit more erratic, you know the end is near. Your hand delves down between your legs, pads of your fingers rubbing at your clit a little to give yourself that extra friction needed to join him.

He cums first. His hips stop, pelvis flush against your backside. At first, you're sure he's gonna wake someone. His noises are only a little louder, but they're much more frequent. You feel him spill every drop within you as he shoots rope after rope. You're not far behind and cum a few seconds later. Your legs twitch as your walls clamp down around his already sensitive length, drawing more needy sound from him.

While the two of you come down, he murmurs into your ear. His words are all breathy from the bliss that had just entered his system.

"Christ, angel. So perfect for me," he says with a small kiss to your head.

You reciprocate the affection, but some anxiety still lingers within you.

"You really think he didn't hear?" you ask, looking up into his eyes for reassurance.

"No way. We're clear," he says, granting your wish before grinning at you, "Besides, if he did, I'm sure he'd enjoy the show."

Your eyes widen at his little clip and you lightly pinch his bicep. "Shut up. For real this time," you tease.

"You got it, boss," he says, planting one more kiss on your lips.

You roll your eyes but still get comfy in bed as he pulls out and fixes the two of you. After falling back into position, it's not hard to fall asleep. You fit against each other perfectly. His chest is so warm against your back. Everything just feels right, especially since you were sure you'd just pulled off the heist of the century.

You fall asleep on cloud nine but are quickly brought back to reality the next morning when the three of you check out. You're carrying your bags out while Chris holds the door for you. Leon's putting things in the trunk already, eager to get home and have some true alone time with you.

As far as you knew, you were in the clear. That was until Chris gave the room one last glace and then turned his gaze to you.

"The next set of people better hope they clean the sheets really well," he says with a teasing smile.

[anotherblinder]

The Ring

Summary || (Y/n) Shelby loses her ring and Thomas helps find it

Word Count || 1.2k

Pairing || Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings || There are no warnings

Notes || Hello! It's been a moment since i last posted but here i am with another fic! This one just came to mind while i was writing other fics and i just had to write it out! Super thanks again to @runnning-outof-time for proof reading! Go read her works she is absolutely amazing!

Overwhelming frustration surged through (Y/N) as she looked frantically around the house. Even the help was trying their best to look for it. (Y/n)’s wedding ring had gone missing. She swore up and down she never took it off her finger. It was a very uncommon occurrence for her to remove it. Which is why there was such a panic settled in her.   

The whole house had been searched and it still hadn’t turned up. Feeling defeated, tears started to prick her eyes as she tried to remember where she could have lost it. Not even noticing when her husband Thomas had got home. Too preoccupied with trying to find her precious ring. The Shelby was beating herself up for losing it. Deep down she knew Tommy wouldn’t be upset and just buy her a new one. The thought of having a new one broke her heart. This one means so much to her, it was the one he gave her when they had nothing. How hard Tommy worked to get her that one when they had almost not a dime to their name. It meant so much to her, showed how much he loved her and worked to get her a decent ring at that time in their life. That’s why she was desperate to find it. 

Seconds after he walked through the door, he could see the unusual panic in the house. Well, of his wife at least. Frances had told him the details of what’s been happening over the last few hours. Tommy let out a sigh before thanking the woman and going to his wife. He could see the frustration and panic written all over her. Carefully he walked over to her and placed his hand on her back.  

“Darling, it’s just a ring, I can buy you a new one.” He reassured her   

This seemed to be the wrong course of action. The tears she had been holding back started to fall down her cheeks. Pain was evident in her eyes as she looked at him. It made his heart clench at the sight, realizing what he said did not bring her any comfort at all.  

“I don’t want another ring! I want that one!” She cried   

At that she had moved away from Tommy and stood looking around the room. The man didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to her. It was just a ring, at least to him it was. They didn’t need a silly little piece of metal to show the love they have for each other. Though he didn’t understand, Tommy wanted too. It was clear it meant a great deal to her. Even if it wasn’t to him.  

“What makes you upset about losing the ring? It’s just a ring.”  

Tommy watched as she paused and turned to face him again. Taking the opportunity, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. He’d do anything to make his wife happy again, even if that means tearing up the house finding the ring she seems to love so much. Her lips trembled as she took a moment to gather her thoughts.  

“It’s not just a ring, Tommy. You got that for me when we didn’t have this life. When you couldn’t even afford a ring like that. I know how hard you worked for it. Just to get something nice even when I said not to worry. It showed me how much you truly love me and how far you went to get it. That’s why I want that one, it’s full of so much love. I don’t want just some pretty ring you can buy now. I want the one you worked tirelessly to get.”   

Tommy didn’t know what answer he was expecting but it wasn’t that. It made his love for her deepen as he heard her words. They pierced his heart. Sure, he worked hard for the ring but always felt his wife deserved a better ring. Hell, he even swore that when he made it, he’d get her a better ring. When he heard she lost it he thought it would be a good opportunity, but now? Now he just can’t bring himself to do that. Not when he knew she would hate whatever ring he bought her to replace the one she loves so dearly. Unknown to Tommy a smile had grown on his lips as (Y/n) explained why she didn’t want a new one. Leaning in he gave her a gentle kiss and pulled away to look at her.  

“We’ll find your ring.” He said  

“Thank you, Tommy.”   

‘Where did you have it last?” Tommy asked  

She paused and thought for a moment. 

“I remember seeing it in the garden last.”   

“Let’s go look there.”  

Tommy took her hand and walked out to the garden. He knew deep down if they did not find it, he would buy one to replace it. She would not like it, but he could not let her walk around without a wedding ring either. Tommy is still a man who wants to keep his wife to himself. He held onto the hope that they would find it out here, somehow. The couple split up to cover more area of the garden. After searching one area Tommy came to her favourite part of the garden. It was covered with her favourite flowers with a beautiful bench he had made with a table to accompany it.   

The spring winds blew around him while looking for the ring. First, he checked the table then the ground next to it. Both coming up empty. A glimmer in the bed of flowers caught his eye. Knowing what it was, he got down on one knee and picked the ring out of the flower bed. It amazed him how she could have come to love this old thing. But maybe he was starting to understand. Footsteps echoed to his left and he turned in that direction. (Y/n) stood a few feet from him and Tommy swore she never looked more beautiful. The sun is shining off her beautiful hair. Her eyes shining like priceless jewels, always full of love when she looked at him. Like he was the only thing in the world to her. Gently he picked a flower from the stem while standing to his feet.   

Noticing him coming toward her, (Y/n) rushed over and he could see the hope on her face. Smiling Tommy held up the ring, watching the giant grin that formed on her face.   

“You found it! Oh, thank you Tommy!”   

Wordlessly he took her left hand and slid the ring back onto her finger. Right at home where it belonged. He placed a kiss over the ring, making blush rise to his brides' cheeks at the sudden show of affection. The smile on his face showed just how much he loves the woman right in front of him. Feeling the romantic mood in the air, both leaned in for a kiss. A soft, slow kiss showing the love they still held for each other after all these years. Pulling away, he placed the flower he picked earlier behind her ear and held out his arm.  

“Let’s go inside and tell them you found it eh?”   

“Let’s, then I can help with cleaning up the mess I made in the house.”   

Thomas Shelby didn’t understand the love she held for that ring. Then, he understood, seeing the twinkle in her eyes and it shining off her finger after he found it. Thomas too, came to love that dingy old ring he bought years ago. Because it held all the love they held for each other. It’s truly as priceless as the woman he holds in his heart. 

[demoniofleur10]

Anonymous request: Hi! Would you be willing to write reader having first time with Gyomei and also a separate one for Kyojuro? I love them so much!’ Thank you!

And here it is!

Warnings: nsfw content ahead

Gyomei

Gyomei smiled softly to himself, feeling the gentle touch of the girl who had captured his heart. He had never imagined that someone could care for him in such a tender way, but she had shown him that he was deserving of love, too. The memory of their first encounter was still vivid in his mind. He had been on a mission in her town when he witnessed her stand bravely against a demon, protecting a group of children despite being just a civilian. Her courage had struck him deeply. After the battle, Gyomei had made it his priority to ensure she received proper care. During his stay in the village, he found himself drawn to her side more often than he expected. Though blind, he could sense the kindness and compassion that radiated from her, qualities that mirrored his own. She was soft-spoken, yet fiercely protective of those she loved. As he spent more time with her, he began to realize that she had become more than just someone he admired. Her presence brought him a sense of peace and connection that he hadn’t felt in years. She had a way of making him feel whole, as if the darkness he fought daily could never touch him when she was near. Gyomei had always seen himself as a protector, but with her, he discovered the warmth of being cared for, of being loved.

Gyomei's deep voice rumbled softly as he murmured, "Cum for me, love," while his thick fingers delved deeper into her slick heat. Y/n's body quivered, her breath hitching as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. She arched her back, surrendering to the intensity of her orgasm, her walls fluttering around his skilled fingers. It was overwhelming—the sensations were unlike anything she'd ever experienced. It was her first time, and she hadn’t known that something so intense could feel so exquisite, especially with a man like Gyomei bringing her to the edge.

His fingers lingered inside her, feeling the aftershocks of her climax. He gently stroked her sensitive walls a few more times, savoring the way her body responded to him before slowly withdrawing. Her juices coated his fingers, glistening in the low light, evidence of her release. Y/n felt a mix of awe and nervousness as she looked down at herself, her core still pulsing from the aftermath. The thought of taking someone as massive as Gyomei seemed daunting, yet the tenderness in his touch reassured her.

Sensing her unease, Gyomei wrapped a protective arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his broad chest. He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, his breath warm against her skin. "I’ll never hurt you," he whispered, his voice a vow of care and devotion. His words, combined with the gentleness of his touch, eased the trembling in her limbs, replacing her anxiety with a growing sense of trust and anticipation. She knew that with Gyomei, she was safe—cherished, even—and that he would guide her through this new experience with all the patience and care she needed.

He positioned himself at her entrance, teasingly brushing the tip of his length along her swollen, sensitive folds, pausing just long enough to let the anticipation build. His touch was gentle but deliberate, as he traced the slick path from her puffy lips to her aching clit, eliciting soft gasps from her. Slowly, he began to push inside, easing his way in to ensure she felt nothing but pleasure. He was well aware of his size, the way he could stretch her to her limits, but the last thing he wanted was to cause her pain.

As he gradually filled her, he felt her body tense, her walls gripping him tightly, and the soft, stifled cries that escaped her lips tugged at his heart. Immediately, he paused, leaning forward to cradle her face in his hands. His lips found her forehead, peppering it with tender kisses, while his thumb gently brushed away the tears that had begun to spill.

"I'm here, my love," he whispered, his voice soothing as he gazed into her eyes. "I won't hurt you. Just breathe with me."

He waited, giving her time to adjust, to relax around him, before moving again, each thrust slow and measured. He was attuned to every sound, every shiver that ran through her body, ensuring she felt safe and cherished. As he continued, the tension in her muscles gradually eased, and her hushed cries turned into soft moans of pleasure, a sound that only encouraged him to go deeper, but still with the utmost care.

___

RENGOKU

It was deeply ironic to Rengoku that he had fallen in love with the very woman standing before him now, dressed in a resplendent wedding kimono, her hand warmly clasped in his as they sealed their bond. She was a simple florist, yet the moment he first laid eyes on her, everything changed. He had originally walked into her shop to buy a bouquet for his late mother, seeking something beautiful to honor her memory. But as he browsed the flowers, his gaze fell upon the woman who would soon become his wife.There was something captivating about the way she spoke—her gentle voice weaving stories about each bloom, explaining their meanings with such passion and knowledge that he found himself utterly intrigued. Every flower had a tale, a symbolism she unraveled with ease, making even the most ordinary bouquet feel like a work of art. Rengoku was drawn to her, not just by her beauty, but by the warmth and sincerity she exuded, her deep connection to the flowers reflecting the kindness in her soul. What began as occasional visits to purchase bouquets for his mother’s grave turned into something more. He found himself returning to her shop time and time again, not just for the flowers, but to see her, to hear her speak and to feel the gentle joy she brought into his life. Now, as he stood beside her, looking into her eyes, Rengoku couldn’t help but marvel at the path that had led them to this moment. The woman who once handed him a bouquet had now given him her heart, and in return, he had offered his own. Their love had blossomed quietly, nurtured by small, tender moments, and now it was in full bloom, ready to withstand any storm.

"I'll take care of you," he whispered, his voice low and husky, lacking his usual enthusiasm but filled with a deep, simmering intensity. The words lingered in the air between them, a promise spoken with reverence as he leaned down to continue his affectionate assault on her body. His lips found their way to her soft mound, and he took one of her tender peaks into his mouth, expertly licking and biting her hardened bud. Each touch sent shivers through her, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation that left her breathless.

As he worked, his hand remained entwined with hers on the futon, a grounding connection in the midst of their passion. His thumb traced soothing circles on her palm, a stark contrast to the heated, deliberate motions of his mouth. It was as if he was two different men—one gentle and protective, the other bold and unapologetically passionate. The duality of his actions left her overwhelmed, her senses tingling with the contradictory sensations of his tender caresses and the sinful ministrations that followed. Every movement was calculated, every touch a testament to his desire to both worship and consume her, leaving no part of her untouched by his love.

"I'll be gentle," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of reassurance and desire. Slowly, he shifted his weight, lifting himself from her just enough to kneel above her, taking in the sight before him. She lay sprawled out beneath him, vulnerable and completely exposed, her skin flushed with the warmth of their shared passion. Her eyes met his, a blend of trust and anticipation reflecting back at him, and he felt a deep surge of emotion knowing how much she was giving herself to him in this moment.

He allowed himself a brief moment to admire her, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, the way her body seemed to glow in the soft light of the room. She was a vision of beauty and innocence, and the sight of her laid bare like this, just for him, stirred something primal within him.

Leaning down, he returned to her, his movements slow and deliberate as he positioned himself between her legs. His hands caressed her sides, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, before he gently aligned himself with her entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers, wanting to make sure she was ready, that she was comfortable.

With a deep breath, he began to press into her, moving with painstaking slowness, allowing her body to adjust to the new sensation. His heart pounded in his chest, every inch he moved forward a reminder of the deep connection they were forging. As he filled her, he could feel the tension in her body, and he whispered soothing words of encouragement, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet room. "You're doing so well, love," he breathed, his lips brushing against her ear. "I'm right here with you."

[kindlyduhh]

A Greedy Heart pt.1

You can also read it on my ao3 page !!

Content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, gets suggestive towards the end

Word count: 4.5K

Mammon has been thinking about confeesing to you about his feeling but just cant find the right time. After some miscommunications he finally finds the guts the say what was on his mind...

Once again, it was a typical day in the devildom and you and Mammon were spending time together in your room. He was sitting on your bed and you were laying next to him.

You loved hanging out with mammon, his presence calms you down and you were happy that mammon also tried to hang out with you even though he acts nonchalant as he tried to seem like he didn't care, but you always saw through him, how much he’d blush every time you agree to hang out, and it is truly adorable.

Normally you guys would just joke around or mammon would make a plan to steal Lucifer's credit card again, but he was unusually quiet today just scrolling on his D.D.D.

You could clearly see that mammon wanted to say something that was on his mind since he kept glancing at you, but he wasn't saying anything. 

“Mammon, are you alright?” knowing that if you don't ask him directly, he definitely wouldn't talk about whatever was bothering him.

“Yea, I'm fine…” he huffs while ruffling his beautiful white hair.

The whole day, he seemed unusually distant, casting frequent glances your way with a grumpy expression. It was obvious that something was bugging him, but he was being stubborn as usual. 

“Oh c'mon mammon, I know something is up… I promise I won't judge you or anything like that.” you said in a reassuring tone, his eyes softened ever so slightly.

You could see that he was struggling to express himself, as people had belittled him every time he voiced his thoughts, calling him a scumbag or a money grubber. It pained your heart to witness his struggle.

Mammon didn't understand why you were this kind. You were so gentle and caring, which was a thing he wasn't used to. 

He got used to your affection so much since the day that you came to devildom that when you weren't around; he felt alone and jealous every time you hung out with the other brothers, which was a feeling he hated.

Mammon's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to find the courage to express his feelings. He had been holding them in for so long, but it was becoming harder and harder to keep them hidden. 

Every time he looked at you, his heart ached with the unsaid words. He knew he had to speak up, but the fear of rejection and judgment held him back.

"Ugh, I dunno..." Mammon started to speak while fidgeting with his hands, but before he could finish, Levi suddenly burst into the room without bothering to knock on the door.

 “Yo y/n, the game that we were waiting for is out! c’mon let's go, we have to play it now.” Levi says enthusiastically. You and Levi were waiting for this game for a really long time and you have promised him that you would play it together.

Mammon was filled with a mix of disappointment and anger as Levi interrupted, but he tried to keep his facial expressions neutral. "Great, just great. " He couldn't shake off the regret and frustration that he had almost let himself be vulnerable.

"Levi, can you wait just for a second? I'll be in your room in a minute, okay?" You slightly get up from the bed and glance at Mammon, noticing that he was clearly irritated that Levi entered the room just when he was about to speak. 

“Oh c'mon y/n, if we don't start playing now, we might miss the free gacha pulls, and it's not like you guys are doing anything, right?” Levi explains, it's clear that he isn't gonna give up.

As Mammon slowly got up from your bed, you could sense his emotional walls building up again, his attempt to act nonchalant.

“Hey where are you going? You were gonna say something, right?” trying to convince mammon to stay, but when your eyes met with his, you could see the disappointment and regret in his eyes. You get even more confused by his actions.

“It's nothin really, ya guys can play your games or whatever… I need to go somewhere, anyway.” Mammon tries to smile as he masks away his feelings.

Your heart breaks at how cold he is being. He wasn't even looking at you anymore. You start to feel even more anxious overthinking everything you did today.

Mammon murmurs under his breath “bye then…” He quickly leaves your room, not even giving you a chance to say goodbye.

You try to act like you are fine. “Well, let's play our game right.” You sigh while smiling at Levi since you didn't want to worry him about anything. He nods and starts walking to his room while talking about how excited he was about the game as you try not to think about mammon.

⋆⋅⛧⋅⋆

It was midnight now, the dim light of the devildom brightening the room ever so slightly as you say goodnight to Levi. He was accustomed to staying up late, so you knew he'd likely keep playing the game.

You had a headache, so you held the bridge of your nose to relieve it slightly, but it didn't work. Your mind wandered about mammon the whole night and you couldn't even focus on the game anymore.

You anxiously walk through the corridor while thinking about going to mammon’s room. You weren't sure if he was awake or this was a good idea, but you were seriously worried if you said something to upset him and the worrying was eating you every minute passing by.

You finally come to his room just waiting in front of the door anxiously to have some courage to knock on the door. You could hear your heart beating in your whole body and you think to yourself why you were this nervous. 

You sigh and finally knock on the door with shaky hands. As you wait in front of the door, you get even more self conscious about what you were doing. This was a mistake, and you were probably gonna wake mammon in the middle of the night for nothing. 

You slightly get relieved when he doesn't open the door. Of course, he was sleeping. It was really late. As you turn away and make your way to your room, you pick up on the faint sound of a door opening.

“Y/n… what are ya doin here?” Mammon says, his voice sounds sleepy. You curse yourself under your breath for waking him up for something so stupid.

You turned to him to apologize, but froze the moment you saw him. Your eyes open wider and you can feel your face heating up. 

He was only wearing gray sweatpants, leaving his toned, bare chest exposed to the dim moonlight. The sight was mesmerizing as you tried to tear your gaze away, but your eyes were glued to his sculpted form. You gulped and tried to not look at him like a creep, looking everywhere but him as you blushed harder.

And that's when he realized that he wasn't wearing any shirt. His face started to get even redder than yours somehow as he cleared his throat. “S-sorry I just woke up… I'll go put on a shirt”

Without thinking, you grab his arm to stop him. Noticing his shocked expression, you quickly release his arm, feeling awkward as you stand fidgeting with your hands.

“U-um, it's fine. I shouldn't even come here. I'm sorry for waking you. It's nothing important. You should just go to sleep,” you say awkwardly while looking down. You couldn't even look at his face because of how embarrassed you are.  

Mammon feels slightly upset about the way you were hiding your face, even though it's been just a few hours since he already missed seeing your beautiful face. 

His arm was still tingling from your touch. Just from that quick contact, he felt himself melting as he bit his bottom lip.

“Nah, it's fine, I'm awake now so ya might as well say it right” He scratched the back of his neck as he gestured to you to come to his room.

Mammon thought of you the entire night as he tried to sleep. He was so jealous of Levi since he got to spend some time with you.

His stomach twisted the entire night, his imagination consumed by the sight of you and Levi sitting next to each other closely. It should be him next to you, not Levi or any of his brothers. He was your first demon, not them.

And to his luck, he heard you knocking on the door. When he saw your face, the relief he felt made him feel like he can finally breathe again.

He slowly walked to his couch and grabbed the shirt laying down there. He quickly put on the shirt, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. 

While wearing his shirt, he caught you glancing at his abs. He wasn't sure if you were checking him out, but the thought of it made his heart beat faster.

You both plump onto the couch. There is an awkward energy in the air. You both stay quiet for a bit, then you awkwardly clear your throat.

“Did I said something that upset you?” you blurt out suddenly while looking down at the floor.

Mammon looks confused, not understanding why you would ask that. You never said something that upset him, hell it was the opposite all the time.

Mammon felt a pang of unease when you refused to meet his gaze. He yearned for your attention, craving the way your eyes would light up as you looked at him. "Hey, why are ya asking that? Of course ya didn't," he reiterated, trying to catch your gaze. 

"What made ya think that, anyway?" His heart ached as he longed for the connection he had with you, the way you always gave him your undivided attention and made his stomach do flips.

You ran your hand through your hair out of frustration, realizing you sounded a bit foolish. "Umm... I'm not sure," you began, trying to find the right words. "You just seemed off today, and you stormed off when Levi came to my room. I was worried I did something wrong." 

Your voice trailed off as you exhaled, feeling a bit embarrassed by how insignificant your worries seemed now that you said them out loud.

Mammon's heart sank when he realized that he had made you worried. He curses himself for being such an idiot. There you were worrying for him and all it was because he was foolishly scared of your reaction.

“Oi c’mon will ya look at me.” he huffs. There is a tint of worry in his voice as he speaks. The only thing he wants is for you to understand you didn't do anything wrong.

As you finally met his gaze, something in the air shifted. You noticed a glimmer of vulnerability in his golden eyes that made your heart skip a beat. His usual cockiness was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a rare moment of sincerity.

“Ya didn't do anything wrong, ya dummy. Ya don't need to worry about me.” He reached out his hand to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. 

Your breath hitched as Mammon's hand made gentle contact with your hair, grazing your skin softly. The brief touch sent a jolt through your body, making you dizzy with a newfound craving for more.

His touch felt incredibly soft and tender, and you found yourself subconsciously leaning into it, silently wanting more of the sensation. As he spoke, his words seemed to get lost in your mind, overpowered by the overwhelming feeling of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Your voice quivered as you spoke, expressing your concern for Mammon. "But I do worry about you," you said, your words laced with a hint of desperation. 

"If you talk to me, maybe I can help you somehow. Did Lucifer lecture you again, or is it those witches bothering you?" You hoped that he would finally open up and let you in, to allow you to at least try to comfort him‌.

Mammon felt a pang of guilt as he heard the desperation in your voice. He didn’t mean to make you worry, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit the real reason behind his sour mood.

“Aw, ya worry too much about me, ya know that?” he tried to deflect, flashing a cocky smile. “I’m a tough demon, ya know? Nothin’ can get me down.”

This is typical Mammon behavior of trying to hide his feelings and act nonchalant, even though he’s actually touched by your worry about him.

Your frustration was evident as you let out a sigh, not swayed by Mammon's attempts to dismiss your concern. Surprisingly, a newfound boldness washed over you, and you reached out, gently grasping his hand in a reassuring grip. You held it firmly, trying to convey your care through your touch.

"Mammon, it's okay to admit when you're feeling down or upset. You don't always have to put on a tough act, especially not with me. I care about you, and I want to understand what's been bothering you."

Mammon's eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by your honesty. He hadn't expected you to be so direct about it. He hesitated for a moment, not used to talking about his feelings or problems, but the genuine concern in your voice made him feel like he couldn't keep you in the dark anymore.

He let out a deep sigh, his shoulders drooping slightly. "It's not Lucifer or the witches," he muttered, looking away from you. "I actually…" He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. 

Mammon takes a deep breath, preparing himself to reveal what's been on his mind. "There's something I've been wanting to talk to ya about," he begins, his tone a bit hesitant.

Your heart skips a beat, anticipation swelling within you. Whatever it is Mammon wanted to talk about, it seems serious. You brace yourself, ready to listen intently.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, clearly nervous about what he was about to say.

"But I'm not good with this kind of stuff, ya know? Talking about feelings and whatnot." He chuckled weakly.

As you gently squeezed his hand, Mammon felt a shiver run down his spine. The feeling of your soft touch on his skin was like electricity coursing through his body, filling him with an inexplicable sense of comfort and excitement. 

It was as if your touch alone had the power to calm his nerves and give him the courage to finally say what was on his mind. With a deep breath, he gathered his thoughts and found the courage to speak.

Mammon took a deep breath, his heart still racing as he looked at you with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

“I…” he began, but the words got stuck in his throat. He let out a shaky exhale and tried again. “Promise me ya won’t laugh, okay?”

You ran your thumb over his knuckles gently, trying to reassure him that it was okay to open up to you. “I swear on my life I won't laugh Mammon” trying to show how serious you were about his feelings.

He looks at you intently, his expression a mix of emotions."You know how I’m always calling you my human, right?" he starts, his voice a bit shaky.

He looks away for a moment, his eyes darting around the room before finally meeting yours again."And how I always want to be around you and want your attention?" he continues, fidgeting with his shirt hem again.

Oh. OH. Your heart skipped a beat as Mammon mentioned how he always wants to be around you and wants your attention. A wave of realization washed over you, and you started to piece together what he was trying to say.

Your mind races as you process his words, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of you is surprised by Mammon's vulnerability, as he's usually so guarded and closed off. Another part of you is thrilled, the idea that Mammon might be confessing his feelings to you, stirring up a whirlwind of excitement and nervousness.

Mammon takes a deep breath and looks directly into your eyes, his expression a mixture of nervousness and determination.

"I've been trying to figure out how to say this, but I'll just say it straight out." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts and mustering his courage.

"I... I like ya, okay? Like a lot. And not in the ‘friend’ way, but in the ‘I can’t stop thinkin’ about ya, miss ya when yer not around, wanna spend all my time with ya’ kinda way."

Mammon's stomach twists as he confesses. He can't believe he actually said it. The intrusive thoughts start spinning in his mind as he feels his heart beat getting faster. What if you didn't like him? If so, would this ruin the relationship you had with him?

He feels dizzy as he waits for your response while still feeling like he made a mistake by opening up to you. What if he lost you because of his confession? Why couldn't he be content with just your friendship? Why did he have to be so greedy?

As these thoughts pass around his mind, you gently put your hand on his cheek. There is a tint of redness on your face. He can barely see it under the dim moonlight. “You like me… you mean it?” your voice trembling slightly. You felt your heart beat getting faster at his words.

You never thought that Mammon would confess one day. Of course, you both acted flirty from time to time, but whenever it felt too serious or real, he find a way to get away from the situation, acting like he had no feelings towards you. 

Mammon's voice trembles, “I umm… I-I do mean it alright…”. His face is fully red now as he tries to not meet your gaze. He huffs while scratching the back of his neck, clearly frustrated about being this vulnerable.

“I-Its ‘kay if ya don't feel the same ı just… gahh i dunno I thought I should tell ya or somethin’ I know I'm being an idiot now so it's fine if ya wanna leave or whatever…” He mumbles under his breath, glancing at you just for a second. The way he looks at you with a glint of desperation, like you are gonna leave him for being vulnerable.

You put both of your hands on Mammon’s cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. His eyes widen as you get slightly closer to his face. “Mammon, you're not being an idiot… and ı would never leave you, okay…” you whisper while caressing his cheek gently.

He closes his eyes as he feels your touch. It's so soft and tender and he feels dizzy from the sensation. Without realizing, he nuzzles to your hand as he sighs.

He looks so beautiful between your hands, his eyes closed. He looks like a painting as his white hair slightly glows under the dim moonlight. And you finally find the courage to say what is in your heart.

“I-I like you too Mammon… like a lot. Every time I look at you, my heart starts to beat faster like it's gonna burst out of my chest,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you speak.

Mammon quickly opens his eyes when he hears your word. Did you say you liked him? No way you said that right. Did you say it back because you didn't want to upset him?

“Ya do? are ya sure bout it… ya don't have to say it back just because you don't want to upset me or whatever yer thinking, ‘key.” He mumbles under his breath. Barely meeting your gaze.

You tilt his head to face you gently, wanting to convince him about your feelings. “Of course I'm sure mams… ı wouldn't lie about my feelings, especially to you. I like you so much that I want to be next to you all the time… ı love your smile, ı love talking to you, I love that when you get excited about something you get even louder,” you chuckle "and I love you Mammon…”

His brain stops for a second. The way you talk about him is so sweet as he melts at your every word. He is not used to this type of tenderness and he might get addicted to it if you keep going like this.

As Mammon's brain processes the words you just spoke, his heart fills with a mixture of shock and happiness. 

It's like the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders after expressing his feelings for you, and now, hearing you say you feel the same... he can't contain his emotions any longer.

He gazes intently into your eyes, his breathing shaky as he leans closer to you.

"Can I...?" he whispers, his gaze flickering down to your lips 

You nod as your voice shivers “yeah…” your heart is beating faster and faster while he places his hands on your cheek and finally closes that little gap between you two.

As his lips gently met yours, a rush of sensations washed over you. It was a sweet and tender kiss, full of longing and desire. Mammon's hand trembled gently against your cheek as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer with his other hand.

He couldn't believe this was happening. He felt even more dizzy as your hands wandered around his body. Your soft hand gliding against his hair made him feel euphoric as you deepened the kiss.

You were kissing him with a hunger even you didn't know existed. The way you were kissing him with such a fervor was driving mammon crazy as he was getting more worked up every second.

His hand went to your soft hair, tangling between his fingers as he kept kissing you. The sound you made when he tugged on your hair made his whole body shiver. Your sweet sound felt like music to his ears, and he was getting more greedy for you.

You felt yourself heating up with every touch, losing every sense, only wanting to feel him more. You gently pushed him back onto the couch without breaking the kiss. With a swift move, you swing your leg over his legs, straddling his lap, and pinning him down on the couch.

Mammon's eyes widened in surprise as you straddled him on the couch, pushing him back against the cushions. He looked up at you in a mixture of shock and excitement, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to keep his composure.

He was blushing hard by your sudden bolt move as he held you by your waist carefully, not wanting for you to accidentally fall down.

His heart was racing, and he could feel your heat pressed against him. It was driving him crazy, and he couldn't help but let out a low moan as you positioned yourself on top of him.

His grip on your waist tightened slightly as he looked up at you, his expression a mix of surprise and desire. "Wh-what are ya doin?" he managed to stutter out, his voice shaky.

His breathless voice makes you come to your senses, and you realize what you are doing. “Uhh… s-sorry I can get up if you want…” you say breathlessly as you hold on to him by his shoulders.

Mammon's heart skips a beat at your sudden concern. Despite his surprise, he can't deny that he loves the feeling of you on top of him. He shakes his head gently, his hand still firmly holding your hip.

Mammon shakes his head, his grip on your waist not loosening. "No, no...it's okay," he says, his voice still shaky. He swallows, his adam's apple bobbing as he gazes up at you. "I... I don't want you to get up," he adds, a hint of pleading in his voice.

He swallows hard, his gaze still fixed on you. There is a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he looks up at you, silently hoping that you won't leave.

He can feel the heat radiating from your body, the way your chest is rising and falling against his as you try to catch your breath. He glances down at your legs, straddling him, and a pang of desire shoots through his body.

His hands slid from your waist, down to your hips, and he gently pulled you closer to him.

“Ya look beautiful like this…” he whispered as his thumbs started to draw circles on your hips.

You whimpered softly as his hand traced down to your thighs. The voice you made snapped something in him and he started to kiss you roughly, like you were the last thing he was gonna taste.

You started to grind your hips on him to get some type of friction. The sensation made him realize how much he needed to feel you. He holds you by your hips tightly as he tries to feel you more.

You started to kiss his jaw and slowly go down to his neck as you kept moving your hips. You could feel his hardness fully now and you could feel yourself getting wetter every second passing by.

You start to nibble on his neck, leaving a tiny mark there and your hand moves to the hem of his shirt. You looked at him with your eyes full of lust as you asked “can i… take it off…” you gulped as you tried to catch your breath.

You wanting to take his shirt off made him feel like he was in the clouds. He quickly takes his shirt off with a one swift move, leaving his chest bare.

The way you were looking at him with hunger in your eyes, biting your lips as you checked him out with no shame… It was too much. He was gonna lose control if you kept this up.

“y/n i… are ya sure bout this… it's fine if you don't wanna keep goin’ alright” he said wanting to reassure you it was okay if you wanted to stop before it was too late.

You loved how sweet and caring he truly was. Making sure you were comfortable before doing anything else. You gently caressed his cheek. "I'm sure mams… i don't wanna stop… but it's fine if you want to…” you say.

Mammon felt a wave of relief wash over him as you reassured him that you wanted to continue. His heart was racing as he looked up at you, his eyes full of desire.

He gazes up at you for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, and he lets out a shaky sigh. "No… I don't wanna stop… I don't think I could even if I tried…" he says with a hint of desperation in his voice.

He caressed your hips, his hands grasping with a possessiveness that betrayed his growing desperation. “Just… tell me if ya want me to stop... a’right.”

You smiled gently as you caressed his cheek “I don't want to stop mammon… i dont think i can hold on much longer…”

Divider by:@cafekitsune

[matryosika]

Mark; Power Dynamic and Other Analysis

Wordcount: 1,065 words Includes: Silly little headcanons Genre: Smut, 18+ Author’s note: This is purely based on my imagination and the vibes I get from him. You may or may not agree with me, and that’s completely okay —this is only me free associating for a thousand words straight. Please enjoy whatever this is, and don't hesitate to share your thoughts with me! Credits: MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune !

First things first, I sense that Mark loves to be in control. 

With that being said, I honestly don't picture him as a hard dominant. He might not even care about roles, anyway, but he is naturally leaning towards the dominant side. 

He is really playful with the role, though. Mark is such a tease, and really creates an environment in which you can feel comfortable. He takes it upon himself to reassure you in every step of the fucking way —if he feels like you’re shying away from him, he would do anything just to bring you back to him.

For instance, I feel like one of his priorities in bed is to make sure you feel comfortable exposing yourself to him. I can really see him being into body worshiping and might even kneel in front of you and kiss your body from head to toe, whispering sweet nothings while asking all the right questions: "do you like it when I kiss you like this?, "does it feel good?", "do you want me touch you here?", and so on.

Despite the natural dominance I see in him, I do feel like he can get needier and more desperate than you, and he is not really ashamed of expressing it. This man is whiny, might even beg you to let him please you. And it's good that he is very talkative, because I just know his voice gets deeper and raspier in sexual contexts. At the same time, he is not really that loud; it's all whispers and murmurs, half of his words are muffled because he just has to have his lips attached to your skin and flesh. 

But when I say he is talkative, I mean it. The type to curse under his breath, and even start rambling about how much he loves you and how good you're making him feel. At one point he stops making any sense, because he is no longer thinking with his head but his dick. 

Mark might seem shy and collected at first, but I feel like the most he progresses into a sexual encounter, the less timid and more primal he becomes. 

But even then, I don't picture him as someone who might enjoy degrading or humiliating you, and certain practices like impact play might be a big no for him. I feel like he could try if you asked him to, but I don't think he would enjoy it just for the sake of slapping or spanking you. If he does enjoy it, it's probably out of ego —the fact that you're trusting him enough to ask him such things, and that you're enjoying them.

But, willingly, I don't think Mark would ever inflict pain on you like that.

Overstimulation and denial, however, are a whole other topic for him. He doesn't mind hurting you a little if he knows you can take it, and that it can become pleasure in exchange for a little pain —the way he proves your loyalty is through how good you're at following his orders and how willing you're to leave your pleasure aside, or endure a little pain, just because he asked you to. 

Mark is a hopeless romantic, and that translates into sex as a somewhat possessive partner. He is only yours, as long as you prove to him that you're only his. He is going to love you passionately if only you can do the same for him; he never hesitates when it comes to you, and he expects you to be the same when it comes to him. 

Because of this passion and intensity, I think he is very much the jealous type. Get jealous easily, and might act a little bit impulsive on it. Also, he isn't afraid of bringing said topics with you —if something bothers him, he will tell you without beating around the bush. It may conflict him, and he might get shy when talking to you about whatever it was that upsetted him, but he never keeps such things for himself.

That's kind of relevant because I think the possessive, jealous part of him really makes an appearance in bed —he wants to hear you say how you belong to him, and him only; how your body it's only his to touch and kiss, how you don't want anyone else but him.

Mark wants everything there is of you —your mind, heart and body. 

And that's why sex is always so intense; not necessarily rough, but emotionally I feel like he brings a shit ton of vulnerability and he needs you to do the same. Sex with him it's always so fucking intimate, and it can get really filthy because trust is one of the most important things for him —he doesn't care about the mess, as long as it is your mess (with this I mean like certain fluids or things one might find disgusting, but to him they really aren’t). 

He might be an experimentalist; he is willing to try everything at least once before deciding if he is into it or not. He’s also pretty good at communicating and putting his thoughts and emotions into words, so that gives me the impression that he is really in touch with himself and his preferences. 

So, going back to the power dynamic bit, I don't see Mark willingly and fully submitting to you. Although I said he might not even care about those sorts of roles, I feel like he is the most comfortable with being in charge of your pleasure and his. For some it might be a burden, but not for him —he leans towards dominance naturally, not to assert it but because he likes it.

Mark is always gentle, but in the midst of things I really believe he can manhandle you unintentionally. He might squeeze your hands a bit too harshly, or grip your hips a bit too rough; not to hurt you, but because he loses his mind in between. He gets so drunk on you and your body, that he just forgets the whole world surrounding him but you.

To wrap things up, I must say he is a fucking great kisser. I do see him as someone who kisses sloppily, but in a "I definitely know what I'm doing" kind of way. He bites, and uses tongue, and just makes sure to kiss you deeply until your mouth is full of him. Mark either places his hands on each side of your face or takes you by your waist to press his body against yours.