#this took forever to write and it's so long and for WHAT

[sylusgworl]

ETERNAL VOWS ft. love and deepspace

you go in for a bridal fitting, but you don't expect their reaction, at all.

content: fluff, afab! reader but no pronouns used, slightly suggestive in sylus's part, dress fitting

a/n: the new banner is releasing soon, so i had to join into the fun too, i honestly enjoyed writing this one sm, although it took me more than three days to finish :( not proofread !! wc: 1.6k. rbs are very appreciated <3

m.list

Not even in Xavier's most hidden dreams did you look so... ethereal.

That morning he woke up because you kept tapping his cheek. As soon as he opened his eyes, he was greeted by raw excitement. 

“Do you remember what day today is?” you said in a squeaking voice, but still lying down because his arm pinned you to the bed and was too heavy to push. 

Xavier closed his eyes, amused, but still with a foot in the land of dreams. 

“I remember, starlight, you've been yelling in my ear for two weeks,” he faked annoyance while a smile tugged at his lip, shy, but daring enough to display. 

You patted his shoulder, scoffing, “c'mon, get up, we're going to be late!” 

Which takes you to where the two of you were, at this precise moment. 

Xavier, leaning back against the black sofa, looked around him, feeling out of place while being surrounded by an insurmountable amount of gowns—white wedding gowns.

With frills, no frills, ball gowns, mermaid, trumpet, lace corsets of any kind... he didn't understand much of it, after all, he knew you looked good in anything.

He couldn’t, however, deny this blooming feeling inside of his heart, the happiness of finally making a dream come true. Finally the two of you would be united forever.

“Sir?” a feminine voice shook him out of his thoughts. He glanced up, 

A long soft gown, adorned with little ornamental flowers, while the corset was covered by flowery lace. The dress fell off the shoulders, the contrast with your skin making Xavier gulp. His eyes hadn’t blinked ever since you arrived.

You made a small twirl, a grin plastered on your lips, “so, how is this one? I think I like this the most.”

Xavier thought he’d forgotten how to breathe. glancing at his cute reaction, you noticed his flushed cheeks and mouth agape. “Like unreachable stars, you shine above all,” he muttered, finally breaking the silence.

Then, to the shop clerk, “we’ll take this one.”

Xavier couldn’t wait for the wedding day to see you with the dress on. 

Sylus dropped the catalogue in his hands, Mephisto froze in place.

The latter wasn’t supposed to be with you at your dress fitting. At all. Except, he simply tailed the two of you, ignoring Sylus’s orders. And now, he just stopped moving altogether, as if his mechanical parts had been consumed by rust.

Then, a flap of wings, followed by several caws, to the point that Sylus had to pinch his beak to shut him up, even though he totally agreed with him.

You stood there, awkwardly at first. You were used to your fiancé—Sylus—being the type to never be intimidated by anyone and anything.

However, now his ruby eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

Was he disappointed? Did he not like how the dress fit you? After all, it was unlike any traditional wedding dress, the gown being an inch above the knee, while several feathers trailed along the corset, down to the skirt.

Sylus slowly got up from his seat, Mephisto, now silent and offended, comfortably leaned back in Sylus’s spot.

He walked, slowly, until he was right in front of you.

“The dress really suits you, kitten,” his teasing voice made a comeback. You sighed from relief, slapping his arm jokingly. However, you noticed how his serious expression clashed with his amused tone.

He raised a hand, subtly grazing your cheek, his gaze softening while never leaving yours.

“It captures your freedom perfectly. I know you like to escape the most,” then he lowered his head, his breath hitting your ear as you shivered.

“But I do think I can’t wait to take this off, sweetie,” your breath hitched.

Sylus pressed a kiss behind your ear, then backed slowly. His lips now stretched in his usual grin, but a blush was indeed tinting his face. 

It took Caleb a double take, before sprinting up, then sitting back down, his mouth ajar.

“Pips…” was the only thing he managed to mutter, gulping dryly, like a man in the desert in a search to quench his thirst.

You giggled, clearly enjoying his reaction, and slowly stepped forward, twisting so that he could have a full view.

In Caleb’s head, the day of the wedding had already arrived. He was ready to make you his wife right then and there, how could you look so perfect in a simple piece of clothing?

His deep purple eyes beamed with realization. It was happening—what he dreamed of most was on the point of manifesting.

“Baby?” you called out to him.

He hummed in response, then sprung up on his feet, the necklace you’d gifted him years prior tingling against the zipper of his jacket.

With wide steps he was right in front of you in half a second, towering over you as you looked up and met his gaze.

Completely smitten, head over heels, you name it. Caleb wanted you more than anything, and he was finally going to have his long-time wish granted.

“This dress fits you perfectly,” he took a hold of a stray lock of your hair, and kissed it, before gently brushing it past your ear.

Then, with no prior warning, his lips were on yours, desperate, domineering, the boutique worker gasping and turning around, embarrassed.

His warm hands cupped your cheeks, as he leaned further in, the warmth of his breath hitting you with a familiar wave.

“Sorry Pips, I couldn’t resist,” he smiles against your lips, pecking them one last time, before letting go. Your cheeks warm up, conscious that you’d just made out in front of people without care.

However, you found no trace of your embarrassment on Caleb, who wet his lips with his tongue and turned to the woman you’d flashed.

“This one’s perfect.” 

Rafayel tried to feign uninterest, until he could not anymore, the sight of you too beautiful and perfect to ignore.

He was sitting, his arm slouched behind the backrest of the black sofa, eyes studying the interior of the shop with little interest while waiting for you.

You’d taken your time, clearly inexperienced in putting on a wedding gown.

Still, Rafayel was only pretending to be cool and alright, his heart thumping against his ribcage with brute force at the realisation.

He was finally going to be reunited with you, his bride, to never be separated again.

He honestly couldn’t wait.

As soon as you stepped out of the changing room, your white heels clicking against the marbled floor, Rafayel gulped, hard.

He’d loved you in each of your lifetimes, but the sight in front of him etched into his heart the desire he’d long kept unfulfilled—for external reasons.

You smiled at him, softly, a little twirl to show him the back of the dress. His eyes fell on the pearls that adorned it, his breath hitched.

Getting up slowly, there was no point in keeping the facade any longer.

You had had him imprisoned in your cage, lulled him in with your striking beauty, like a siren does as she sings to her prey—that was supposed to be his role, draw you in, into his grasp, stop you from slipping away. But oh, you beat him to it, and you did it every single time.

As he finally reached you, his reddish eyes fixated on you, like you were the only existing thing in that room.

“You look…”

“Nice? Horrible? Ugly?” you teased him, eyeing how his chest heaved, eyes checked your body from top to bottom, how he eased the collar of his shirt, feeling suddenly out of breath.

“Otherworldly,” he concluded. Your heart skipped a beat, a tint of red spreading over your cheeks. You weren’t expecting the compliment, that’s for sure.

Rafayel’s fingers hovered over your cheek, brushing it so lightly you’d thought it’d been a dream. 

“Oh,” you stupidly said, what could you have answered after all?

“Eight-hundred years… and I finally can make you mine,” he let out, the thumping in your chest got louder, faster.

Yes, he liked the dress alright. 

The way you looked made Zayne question why on earth didn't he propose earlier. 

The stoic and unfazed doctor, with an enviable reputation at Akso Hospital, was now at your mercy, his eyes drinking in every detail of yours until his mind swirled with thoughts, some of which he dared not tell anyone about.

“So, what does the gentleman here think of the dress?” the shop clerk asked politely, lips stretched in a wide smile as her gaze switched from you to your soon-to-be husband.

Zayne ignored her. Not that he meant to, he wasn’t the kind to dismiss basic etiquette. He would’ve said something, the point is he was unable to.

The corset hugged your waist perfectly, the visible cleavage making him gulp dryly, and the soft tulle of the gown fell down your legs smoothly, perfectly.

You stood there, feeling shy all of a sudden, under Zayne’s clouded gaze, his lips parted while his cheeks were tinted in a soft, subtle pink.

The shop clerk coughed, awkwardly, and dragged Zayne out of his trance.

“So perfect,” he answered, renouncing the fact that she was asking about the dress and not about you.

You felt warmth wrap around you, a smile slowly shadowed your lips, and slowly stepped forward. Zayne met you in the middle, pulling his tie, stifled. His eyes, green and warm, full of affection, never left yours.

His head dropped, lips brushing your ear as your heart almost burst in your chest.

“I can’t wait to make you my wife,” he whispered, not an ounce of tease or amusement coating his words. He was dead serious, and you loved his confession, heart fluttering and hands quivering.

His lips kissed your forehead, softly, then a smile slowly crept up on his lips, his features softening. 

He squeezed your hand, subtly, until they stopped trembling, and turned to the clerk, coughing slightly.

“I like this dress,” he told her, his tone flat, back into the role of Dr Zayne of Akso Hospital.

© sylusgworl - 2025, all rights reserved / i don't allow anyone to copy, repost on other platforms or sell my works.

[lonerslug]

I love your writing sooo much. could you do roommate sevika HCS please please pleaseeeeee. fluff and smut 🥰🥰

Move In, Make Out

Fluff masterlist

⟡ The silent type at first. When you first moved in, Sevika barely said two words.

Cold, gruff, never took her earbuds out. She nodded when you greeted her, but that was it. You thought she hated you.

⟡ she totally watched you when you weren’t looking. She noticed what time you came home, your favorite snacks, the way you hummed when cooking.

She pretended she didn’t care, but when you mentioned needing a specific shampoo again, it magically appeared in the bathroom.

⟡ Grows so soft for you over time. Eventually, she starts leaving you food ,without admitting it, tossing her hoodie at you when you’re cold, mumbling “I’m already up” when she hears your alarm go off too early.

⟡ Movie nights where she sits on the opposite side of the couch at first, then eventually one cushion away, then one day you’re tucked under her arm and she’s feeding you popcorn without looking.

⟡ Protective over you in the smallest ways. Walks you to the bus stop at night. Fixes the leak under the sink without saying a word. Glares at your Tinder dates through the peephole. You think she’s being overbearing. She’s just jealous.

⟡ You once walked in on her talking to your cat in full baby voice. She’s never recovered from the shame. You won’t let her live it down.

⟡ Late night convos at the kitchen table with her in nothing but a tank top and sweats, cigarette dangling from her mouth, listening to your little rambles and nodding like it’s the most important thing she’s heard all week.

Smut

⟡ The tension builds forever before anything happens.

Like brushing hands when you pass in the hallway, her staring when you stretch in your tiny little shorts, her pausing behind you in the kitchen just a second too long.

⟡ She hears everything and puts her ear on your door every time you touch yourself. every sigh, every gasp, every whimper. She lays there biting her knuckle, whispering curses, absolutely losing her mind over you being so close but off-limits.

⟡ First time is rough, fast, against the kitchen counter, because she can’t hold it in anymore. Your legs around her waist, her growling “this what you wanted, baby?” while you sob into her neck.

⟡ Then she feels guilty about it being so rough, so later that night she pulls you into her bed and makes you come slow, soft, over and over again with her fingers between your thighs and her lips on your neck.

⟡ she stops bringing other girls home. Stops flirting with bartenders. Stops pretending she doesn’t care. Because she does. A lot. And one day she’ll actually say it out loud. Maybe. If you don’t make fun of her voice cracking.

⟡ Ties your hands with her belt and makes you wait, makes you ask before she touches you.

“Say please, sweetheart. You know how this works.”

⟡ wakes you up with head. Like, before your alarm goes off. You open your eyes and her face is already buried between your legs, one arm locked over your stomach, holding you still while you gasp awake.

She’ll look up from between your thighs, lazy, smug, voice gravelly:

“Good morning, sweetheart. Miss me?”

taglist: @amri0ram @sapphicstrawcore @shanesevikasfuckdoll @sevikas-whore @barelykiramman @joyispunk @georgiahs-stuff @illbecanon @butchpuppyy @riotstemple29 @mistershotz

[scatorcciosgirl]

camera girl…

Rockstar!Nat x Photographer!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ / MDNI, band/modern AU, fem!reader, usage of y/n, light angst, natalie is emotionally unavailable, reader is socially anxious, mentions of smoking, profanity, porn with plot, loss of virginity, fingering (r!receiving), praise kink, slightly dom!nat, not proofread

Note: this was my first time writing smut

You had no idea what your best friend, Olivia, was signing you two up for when she volunteered the two of you to run a merch stand at a local theater. A band you’d never heard of was playing there on their tour and your friend’s friend, who runs the place, needed some extra help. So, here you were, wearing a black crop-top with the band’s name on it, passing out merch with their faces and their EP title.

After the rush that came at the beginning of the show, it had died down once the band actually started playing. Their music wasn’t something you usually found on your playlist but you still bopped your head along to the beat.

The lead singer interacted with the audience like they were her best friends, making you look up every so often to watch. She was beautiful, wearing a leather jacket and a plaid skirt, hair cut into a shaggy bleached mullet. Her voice was smooth, like honey.

She seemed like the perfect subject to photograph, making your hands itch for your camera.

“Hey, would you mind taking some quick pictures for Instagram?” Heather asks you, suddenly appearing at the counter. You jump, tearing your attention away from the singer to blink at her.

“What?”

“Sorry,” Heather winced, the corners of her lips twitching up. “Can you take some photos of the group? So I can post them?”

“Oh,” you breathe out, nodding. “Yeah. Of course.”

You reach down and pull out your bag, where your camera is tucked safely inside. You fish it out, sliding the strap over your neck like second nature. You knew your friend had told her you could take some pictures for the theater’s socials, which was why you’d even brought it. You scan the building for a second, trying to find the best place to stand.

The lightning is… not ideal. But you know you can make it work.

You maneuver to the side of the stage, pushing through the crowd until you reach your vantage point.

You start with a few wide shots of the entire band. But, with the way the singer moves across the stage like it was built for her, you find yourself zooming in and tracking her every movement. Her skirt swings against her fishnet-covered legs and the lightning hits her jaw just right.

Your instincts take over and you snap picture after picture. She looks stunning in each and every one of them.

She’s electric.

You swear your heart stops when she looks over mid-song and locks eyes with you through the lens. Her lips curve up and you swallow, snapping the photo just in time before she looks away to continue singing.

You find yourself lost in her. She’s so photogenic, you wish you could photograph her forever. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been standing there until the band is suddenly saying their goodbyes. The crowd erupts in cheers and you catch the group bowing for the audience before they head backstage.

You hurry back to the merch stand, already knowing there’s going to be another flood of customers. When the walls are practically bare and everyone is gone, you reach for your camera and begin to scroll through your shots.

Heather and your friend look over your shoulder, commenting on their favorites.

“These are so good,” Olivia gushes. “The bassist looks so hot in that one.”

“You’re very talented,” Heather compliments.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “Thank you.”

That night, you stay up for hours editing the pictures. The sun is coming up by the time you’re finally done and you send them over to Heather so she can post them. You don’t think much of it anymore until you get a DM two days later.

yellowjacketsband

Hey! The band saw the pictures you took of them the other night at Heather’s and they’re obsessed! They’re playing in Austin tomorrow and they’re wondering if there’s any chance you’d be free to shoot them? We’ll comp you, of course. - Benjamin Scott, Yellowjackets Manager

You stare at the message for a second, heart hammering in your chest. You click on the account, wanting to make sure that its real.

It is.

ynsphotos

Thank you so much! I’d love to! Just let me know when to be there!

You swipe out of Instagram the second you send the message, already opening your messages app to text Olivia. You barely get a chance to start typing before you get another notification from the band. You click on it, biting down on the inside of your cheek in anticipation.

yellowjacketsband

Amazing! The set starts at 9 but if you could be there by 7, that would be great! We’ll leave a pass at the door for you. Just tell them your name when you get there. Thank you so much! Everyone’s really excited.

You reread the message a few times before you squeal and throw your phone on your bed, unable to believe what just happened.

It’s not your first time shooting for someone. But it is your first time shooting for someone who found you. And the fact that they liked your work enough to ask you to come back? That’s huge.

You grab your phone again and immediately FaceTime Olivia.

Tomorrow arrived far too fast for your liking.

Your hands shake as you walk up to the venue, trying to ignore the way the people in line stare at you as you walk past them.

The security guard doesn’t even look at you. “Back of the line.”

“No, I’m - I’m here to photograph the band?” you stammer, flushing in embarrassment as you give them your name.

His eyebrow raises as he looks down at the clipboard, scanning for your name. For a terrifying second, you worry that this was all an elaborate prank. A camera crew or something is going to jump out and you’ll look like an idiot on national television.

Then, he nods. “Got it.” He hands you a pass that says CREW and steps aside so you can enter. “Go ahead. Green room’s in the back, stage access through there.”

You mutter a quiet thank you, probably too low for him to have heard, and walk in, sliding the pass around your neck. Your eyes scan the room in amazement. It’s small and intimate like Heather’s bar is. Someone’s testing mics on stage, someone else is checking the lighting, and another person is coiling cords near a speaker.

“Hey!”

You jump at the sudden voice and spin around to see a tall man in a grey polo and black pants.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Ben, the Yellowjackets’ manager. You’re Y/N?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Oh, man. The band’s been talking about you nonstop. Seriously, they’re obsessed with those shots. You wanna head backstage and meet them real quick? They’re just hanging out. Soundcheck’s in 10.”

Your stomach churns but you force a small smile. “Sure.”

“Great!”

He leads you down a narrow hallway and pauses in front of a plain black door. You can hear voices from the other side.

“Dude, how the fuck did you manage to sweat through your shirt before soundcheck?”

“It’s hot as shit here. Fuck off.”

“They can be… a lot,” Ben warns. “Don’t take anything they say seriously.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek and nod. “Got it.”

You mentally prepare yourself as he knocks once and opens the door.

The room is chaotic.

There’s coffee cups and beer cans everywhere, an open pizza box open on the coffee table, a clothes rack in the corner. Music is playing from a small speaker. There’s seven people scattered around the room. You recognize most of them because you spent hours staring at their faces while you edited.

The only guy – aside from Ben – in the room is the bassist. Sitting in front of him on the sofa is a redhead, who you know as the drummer. Their arm is wrapped around a black girl whom you don’t recognize. On the other sofa, there’s two other girls. The brunette is the other guitarist. The girl sitting beside her is also unfamiliar with hair that seems to be a mix of blonde and brown. Sitting on the floor against it is another brunette with olive skin, the keyboardist.

Then, in the back, settled in one of the seats at a vanity, guitar on her lap, is her. The lead singer.

Her shaggy bleached hair is pulled into a ponytail that most of the front pieces fall out of, framing her face. She’s wearing a Nirvana shirt and sweatpants, the sleeves of the shirt rolled up. A notebook is perched on the vanity desk, pen still in her hand.

“Photographer’s here,” Ben announces, turning to gesture to you like you’re a prize.

All seven of them turn to look at you. You tense under their gazes. You can feel them taking you in. Everything from the Mary Janes covering your feet to the white skirt you’d chosen to the cardigan hanging off your shoulders.

“Y/N, this is Travis–” Ben starts the introductions. The bassist – Travis – nods to you in acknowledgment before he tugs his shirt off.

“Don’t pay too much attention to him,” the redhead pipes up with a small smirk. “He’s a dick.” The girl next to them smacks their shoulder, making them let out a laugh. “What? It’s true.”

“That’s Van,” Ben says. “And their girlfriend, Taissa.”

Taissa turns away from Van and offers you a small wave.

“Then we have Lottie, Shauna, and her girlfriend, Jackie. . .”

Lottie sends you a kind smile and Shauna shoots you another wave. Meanwhile, Jackie beams and stands. She crosses the room and throws her arm around you. “I love your outfit.”

You blink in surprise before hesitantly returning the hug. “Thank you.”

“Jesus, Jackie. You trying to scare her off already?”

Jackie pulls away but slides her arm through yours, like the two of you have been best friends for ages. Your gaze cuts over to the singer, who’s stood from her chair and moved closer.

“And, finally, we have Natalie,” Ben introduces.

“Hey,” Natalie greets, eyes raking over your body.

You manage a small, “Hi,” and try not to flush too much under her gaze.

“Don’t worry,” Jackie mutters, squeezing your arm. “She doesn’t bite.”

Van snorts and adds, “Unless you ask her to.”

“Van!” the girl besides you scolds.

“Ignore them,” Natalie advises, rolling her eyes. “They just like to talk shit.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s okay. I’m just really excited to be here. Thanks for having me back.”

“Dude, we should be thanking you,” Van counters, picking up a piece of pizza. “That shot of me flipping my sticks? Insane. And you even managed to make Travis look hot.”

The bassist, now wearing a different shirt, flips them off. The drummer wastes no time in returning the gesture.

“You guys were incredible,” you respond, chuckling at the two of them. “Seriously. I think I listened to, um... Queen of Hearts, like, 10 times in a row when I got home.”

“Good eye and a good ear.” Natalie smiles, impressed. “You’re the entire package.”

“She would not shut up about you. Spent half the night after the show zooming in on the picture of her looking right at the camera,” Van reveals through a mouthful.

“I’m pretty sure she made it her lockscreen,” Lottie remarks with a light laugh.

“She did,” Taissa confirms, nodding.

Before anyone can say anything else, the door opens. A girl with glasses and curly blonde hair pops her head in. “Time for soundcheck.”

A mixture of groans and cheers chorus from the band as they all hurry to finish their food and drinks before standing.

The blonde looks at you. “Hi, I’m Misty. I run equipment. You must be the photographer?”

You smile at her and introduce yourself, following the band out the door. Jackie and Taissa settle in on the floor, watching their partners. You stand off to the sound, snapping a few BTS photos, unable to shake the feeling that something is about to change.

The message comes the next day.

You’re half asleep, having just finished the photos from the show and sending them to Ben. The sun is shining through your window and, for a second, you curse the fact that you chose aesthetic over practicality with the curtains.

Your phone buzzes from where it rests on the bed beside you. You blink and grab it, unlocking your phone to view the text.

Ben Yellowjackets

These are amazing! I’m showing them to the band right now.

You smile and type out a quick reply.

You

Thank you! I hope they like them!

It’s not until hours later that it happens. You’re moving through your apartment like a zombie, attempting to throw together a pathetic excuse of a meal for lunch.

Ben Yellowjackets

Hey, Y/N! The band absolutely loves the shots you took last night. They’re wanting to know if you’d like to come on tour as the official photographer. Travel, rooms, and meals will be covered, plus a day rate. Interested?

Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open. You screenshot the message and send it to Olivia.

You

LIV

LIV

SOS

WHAT DO I SAY???

livvy

HOLY SHITTTT

SAY YES?? DUH

You

i dont know

this is crazy

Livvy

if u don’t say yes istg im going to smack u

You bite down on the inside of your cheek and reopen Ben’s message.

You

Absolutely! Just let me know the dates and cities.

You throw your phone on the couch and pace around your apartment, nerves bubbling in your stomach. The words repeat in your head.

On tour. Official photographer.

It's unbelievable. It cannot be real life.

When your phone buzzes again, you practically dive for it.

Ben Yellowjackets

Perfect. I’ll have Misty send over a basic contract and travel info. We’re in St. Louis Monday and Kansas City Tuesday. We’ll fly you out Monday morning so you can shoot that show. That work?

Your breath hitches.

You

Yes, that works!! Thank you so much!!

Ben Yellowjackets

Of course! We’ll handle the flight, hotel, and all that. Just send over your full name, birthday, and ID for the ticket. We’re all really excited to have you joining us!

You send off your details with shaking hands, then drop your phone again and just stare out your balcony window.

Two days ago, you were working with Olivia, selling the band’s merch.

Now you’re going on tour with them.

You barely sleep Sunday night before her flight. You keep waking up thinking you forgot something – memory cards, batteries, your passport (even though you’re not leaving the country).

You land in St. Louis around noon. The flight was short but awful. You hate flying. Ever since you were a kid, you’ve been terrified of the plane crashing.

The moment you step off the plane, you’re hyper aware of everything. The way your sneakers squeak against the airport floor, how sweaty your hand is against your carry-on handle, the weight of your camera bag slung over your shoulder.

You navigate to baggage claim, where Ben and Misty are already waiting.

Misty talks the entire car ride, listing off soundcheck times, load in schedules, and basically the entire tour by city and date. Ben tries to get her to calm down as to not overwhelm you but she always launches into another ramble.

The motel room is nice. Small and dingy, but nice overall.

You barely have time to set your luggage down and collapse back on the bed before a knock sounds on your door.

You sigh and stand, opening it. You’re met with the sight of Natalie. Her hair hangs loose, the blonde framing her face perfectly. She’s wearing a simple grey shirt and jean shorts.

You blink. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she greets. “You’re here.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna grab a coffee before soundcheck?” Natalie asks. “Everyone else is either sleeping or exploring the city.”

You’re surprised at the over but grateful. You’d refused the drink and snack on the plane in fear that you’d throw up and had been running solely on anxiety.

You smile and nod, grateful. “I’d love that.”

So, with Maps leading you to the nearest cafe, the two of you start walking.

Natalie doesn’t say much at first.

She walks beside you, kicking a pebble every now and then or muttering something under her breath about the heat.

The silence makes you antsy, like you should say something but you don’t know what.

It’s the third block when she finally breaks the silence.

“You always this quiet?”

You look over at her, eyes widening. “Sorry, I didn’t–”

“It’s okay,” she interrupts you. “Just noticed you don’t talk very much.”

You don’t know what to say, so you settle on, “Sorry.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Another moment of silence passes by before she breaks it once more.

“How was your flight?”

You groan. “Awful.”

Natalie looks over, eyebrows raising. “Really?”

“I don’t like flying,” you explain. “My brain convinces me that every plane is doomed.”

“You and Shauna have that in common, then,” she replies, the corner of her lips twitching up. “She hates flying.”

You laugh. “Glad to know I’m not alone, then.”

“She makes Jackie hold her hand on every flight,” Natalie tells you. “It’s kinda cute, actually.”

“You don’t get nervous?” you wonder, tilting your head.

She shakes her head. “No. I find flying… peaceful, I guess.”

You shoot her a look. “You’re insane. What about a giant metal tube hurling through the sky is peaceful to you?”

“I don’t know,” Natalie laughs. “I mean, if the plane does crash, the worst that could happen is I die.”

“What if you survive?” you counter. “And you’re stranded in the woods? No food. No water. No shelter. Nothing.”

“I mean, we’d probably be able to find a cave or something,” She shelters. Or make shelters. And there’d probably be a river. And. . . about the food thing, that’s easy. Cannibalism. The others and I have all decided that if we ever get stranded, we’re eating Jackie first.”

You hum. “And how does Jackie feel about that?”

“Oh, she doesn’t know.”

You huff a laugh, the tension in your chest loosening.

Natalie holds the door open for you when you finally reach the cafe. The two of you are immediately greeted by the sound of Taylor Swift playing softly in the background. Your stomach grumbles at the smell of espresso and freshly baked something.

She orders a black coffee and looks back at you. “What do you want?”

You shake your head. “You don-”

“Tour rule,” she cuts you off. “If I invite you, I pay.”

You sigh and order an iced latte with oak milk. Natalie hands over her card while you drop a few dollars into the tip jar.

She leads you over to a booth while you wait for your drinks. “So... what’s your deal?”

“My… deal?” you repeat, confused.

“Yeah. Like, how did you get into photography?”

“Oh, um, it was kind of an accident, really,” you admit, running your finger over the smooth surface of the table. “I just liked taking pictures, capturing moments. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. My mom used to always say I should focus on something stable. And then my high school art teacher told me I had potential and… yeah. I decided this was something I really wanted to do.”

“And now?” she cocks her head. “How does your mom feel?”

You tense and avert your gaze to your hands. “We don’t really talk.”

“Shit,” Natalie frowns. “I’m sorry.”

Her voice softens in a way that makes your chest ache. She doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t offer empty comfort or try to pry.

“It’s okay,” you say. “It is what it is. We just want different things.”

Unfortunately, those differences didn’t only extend to photography.

“Well,” Natalie begins after a moment, “I think you made the right call. You’ve got the eye. The way you catch us onstage… it’s like you see something we don’t.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “That’s kind of the job.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “You’re not just good technically. It’s like… I don’t know. Like you’re looking for something real. You catch the little things. Like the way Van grins at Tai in the wings when she thinks no one’s watching. Or how Lottie closes her eyes when she plays a certain chord. Shit like that.”

You stare at her for a second, stunned. Then the barista calls her name before you can figure out what to say. The two of you stand to grab your drinks.

“We should probably start heading back,” she says, passing you your latte. “Ben’ll lose his shit if we’re not back in time.”

Like the walk there, the walk back to the motel starts in silence.

“So…” you’re the first one to break it. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal,” she breathes out, blowing her bangs out of her face. “God. Uh… bought a shitty guitar in middle school and started teaching myself. Started a band in high school but that didn’t work out. Met the others in college and the rest was pretty much history.”

“So you were all friends?” you question.

“Well, I was friends with Van and Lottie first,” she explains. “Lottie was friends with Jackie, who brought in Shauna. And then Van started dating Tai. And I dated Travis for a bit…”

“You… and Travis?”

You’re not sure why the mention of the two of them creates a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Yeah,” Natalie confirms. “We only dated for, like, a month. Realized we’re better off friends.”

You don’t say anything, too busy trying to make sense of the flicker of whatever you just felt.

Jealousy? That’d be stupid. You barely know her.

“He’s not your type?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Natalie shrugs. “Well… I mean, he’s hot – God, wait. Don’t tell him I said that. His ego’s already unbearable.”

You offer her a small smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to him. It was just one of those things that made sense until it didn’t…” She sips her coffee. “Anyway, that was a long time ago. He’s like a brother now. Loud, annoying… leaves his shit everywhere.”

You laugh, but that weird little twinge in your chest lingers.

Natalie glances sideways at you. “What about you? What’s your relationship history look like?”

“Um…” you tense.

“Oh, come on,” she urges, gently bumping you with her elbow. “You know about my failed band and ex-boyfriend. I think I deserve at least one tragic backstory from you.”

You hesitate. The truth is embarrassing. You’ve never dated anybody. Never kissed anybody. Never even held hands romantically.

“I mean, I’ve dated some but nothing ever got serious,” you tell her, hoping you sound casual instead of like a liar. “Men kind of suck.”

“Hear, hear,” Natalie agrees, lifting her coffee cup up. “That’s why I mostly stick to girls now.”

You breath hitches. “Oh.”

Natalie pauses, brows furrowing. “Oh?”

Your eyes widen, suddenly aware of how you reaction sounded. “No, I – I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. I don’t know…”

She lets out a breath. “You’re fine.”

The rest of the walk is silent. But not in the way it was earlier.

The quiet was thick and heavy.

Your brain runs through the conversation on a loop.

I mostly stick to girls now.

And your reaction. That stupid, surprised little oh. Because it wasn’t what she said. It was how she said it.

Simple. Easy. Like breathing.

I mostly stick to girls now.

Natalie exudes confidence. Like she knows exactly who she is and never bothered asking for permission.

You wish you could be like that.

You glance at her as you walk. Your hand itches for your camera as you take her in. The sunlight catches the blonde of her hair just right, casting a glow around her. She looks angelic.

You force yourself to look away.

As soon as the motel comes into view, you feel like you can breathe again. Your escape is so close.

“Thank you, Natalie,” you whisper, coming to a stop in front of your door. “For the coffee.”

“It’s Nat,” she corrects, almost like a reflex. “Nobody calls me Natalie.”

Relief floods your body when she smiles at you. Kindly. Genuinely.

“Nat,” you repeat, testing the name. It feels so natural. “Thank you, Nat.”

“Any time, Camera Girl.”

The nickname catches you off guard. You like the way it sounds coming from her. Like it's just hers. From how close the two of you are standing, you can see her eyes. They’re green. Probably the prettiest shade of green you’ve ever seen.

“We’ll probably head to the venue in about an hour,” she tells you, stepping bak. “Ben likes to get there early just in case something goes wrong.”

“Got it,” you nod, turning. You fish out the key Ben had given you and unlock your door. “Thanks, Nat.”

Natalie hums and turns, sipping what’s left of her coffee as she walks away. You enter your room and shut the door behind you, setting your coffee on the stand by the door before flopping down on your bed.

You’re in trouble.

You close your eyes, trying to force your heartbeat to slow. There’s no room for a crush. You’re here to work.

And Natalie is just being nice.

You end up fitting in surprisingly well with the band.

The days pass by in a blur of long drives, soundchecks, shows, late night dinners at 24 hour diners or gas stations, and more driving.

You’ve gotten close with everybody.

Ben is like the father you never really had. He always makes sure you’ve eaten and had enough sleep, He reminds you to take breaks even when you swear you’re fine.

Misty talks constantly. Half the time you don’t know whether to laugh or be concerned, You’ve grown quite font of her endless supply of bizarre facts and conspiracy theories. She’s weird, sure, but she means well.

Van can make you laugh until you can’t breathe. She has no filter and zero shame, and you love that about her.

Travis has become the brother you never wanted, making you glad for the first time in your life that you’re an only child. He constantly steals your snacks, flips you off in photos, calls you nicknames that makes no sense, and complains about your music taste. But he’s also the first one to carry your bag when you look tired. You never knew you could love and hate a person so much.

Lottie helps you with your outfits before shows. She’s soft-spoken and graceful, with a surprisingly sharp eye for fashion.

Paired with Lottie, Jackie has become like your personal makeup artist. She’ll make you feel so confident about the most random things. “Your eyelashes are so long. It’s not fair.”

Shauna is observant. She’ll randomly hand you a snack or wordlessly fix the strap of your camera.

Taissa has become the first person you go to when you have a problem. She’s level headed and grounded and always tells you what you need to hear.

You’ve found a rhythm with all of them.

But Nat is your constant.

She calls you Camera Girl more often than your actual name. She always sit next to you on the bus. She shares her earbuds with you – the wired kind, because she refuses to get AirPods because she always loses them. The two of you have created a perfectly blended playlist.

The room sharing started out of necessity. One too few rooms in Des Moines had led to a shrug from Natalie and a casual, “You cool with bunking up?”

So now if there aren't enough rooms, you two share without hesitation. She’ll strip down to a sports bra and boxers and flop down on the bed. She’ll watch you unpack your equipment like structure exists on the road. But she never judges.

If she’s not working on a song, she’s watching you edit the pictures you took of the previous show.

You’ve started noticing the little things. How a small pout forms on her lips when she’s concentrated. How she smells like motel shampoo, peppermint, and cigarettes.

How her fingers graze yours for a second too long when she passes you something. How her hand finds your lower back when you’re confused and she’s guiding you. How she always makes sure to blow the smoke away from you if she’s smoking near you.

But you know it doesn’t mean anything.

Natalie is a natural flirt. And she’s your friend. Your best friend here. That’s it.

But recently, she’s started pulling away. She’s become less Nat and more Natalie. You try not to pry. You know that being on tour can sometimes be overwhelming. But you hate how hollow everything feels now.

You guys are in Denver. The two of you are sitting outside the motel. Your camera is set on your lap as you scroll through the pictures you took tonight. She’s smoking beside you, turning her head away every time she exhales.

The air feels thinner between you guys. She hasn’t said a word since the set ended, or said much all day in general. It wasn’t strange at first. Sometimes Nat has days where she doesn’t want to talk much. Everyone does. But now it is because the air feels thin.

“Hey,” you softly call out, looking up at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she answers too quickly, flicking ash onto the sidewalk. “Just tired.”

She’s been tired for the past three cities.

You hesitate for a second before you ask, “Did I do something?”

Natalie turns toward you, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You’ve been different lately,” you tell her, busying yourself with your camera once more. “And… if I did something wrong, I just wanna know.”

She stared at you for a moment before she sighs and stubs out the cigarette. “You didn’t do anything.”

She doesn’t say anything else.

“Okay…” you say, not believing her but not wanting to push as you refocus on your pictures.

You pause on one of Lottie, fingers resting on the keys, head thrown back, completely immersed in the music.

Your camera is snatched out of your hands.

“Hey-”

Natalie is standing now, scrolling through the images. “You know, you’re always hide behind this thing, taking pictures of us. You never let us get pictures of you.”

“Well, I’m not the subject,” your retort, rising from the ground to try and grab it back. She steps away from you. “Nat! Give it back.”

You gasp at the way she keeps it out of your reach.

“Be careful, please–”

“Just let me take one picture of you and I’ll give it back.”

You groan. “Fine!”

“Smile!” she cockily sings, lifting the device up to her eye. You glare at her, not caring how childish you look as she snaps the photo.

“Okay, now give it–”

“You’re so beautiful.”

Your breath hitches and you stare at her for a moment. She lowers the camera and hands it over to you. You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, trying to figure out what to say.

But her lips are on yours before you even get a chance to.

You freeze at first, brain struggling to catch up to the fact that this is happening. Natalie’s hands cup your cheeks. But by the time you come to your senses, she’s pulling back.

“Shit-”

You grip her shirt and pull her back in. You’re sure she can tell that you don’t know what you’re doing. But she still backs you up until you hit the motel door, barely pulling away to fish the key out.

Natalie opens the door and pushes you in, kicking it closed behind her. She guides you to the bed, pulling you on her lap. Her lips are moving much more feverishly. Your head is spinning with a million different thoughts.

She bites down on your bottom lip, making you gasp. She uses the moment to slip her tongue into your mouth as her hands roam your body, sliding up under your shirt.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” she mumbles, kisses trailing down your jaw and neck.

Although the sensations are new and overwhelming, the very last thing you want is for her to stop. “Please don’t.”

“Good girl,” Natalie mutters, tugging at your shirt.

You let out a shaky breath at the praise and instinctively lift your arms to allow her to pull off your top. The motel room is dark and you can’t see her that well but you can feel her eyes raking over you.

“Fuck,” she breathes out.

Before you even get a chance to do anything, she’s flipping you over. She hovers over you, lips moving down your chest. One hand pulls the cup of your bra down, exposing you to her.

She swipes her thumb over your nipple, it hardening under her touch. You suck in a breath when she leans down, tongue circling it. Her other hand frees your other breast and she kneads it.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Natalie whispers, pressing a kiss to your other nipple.

Against your better judgement, a whimper slips past your lips at the praise.

Her hands slide down your body as she takes it in her mouth. Her touch causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. Natalie’s fingers pause at the waistband of your jeans.

Natalie pulls away, making you whine at the loss of her touch. “Can I?”

You swallow thickly and nod, “Please.”

Her fingers unbutton your pants with ease. “Lift your hips for me,” she instructs. Without a second thought, you do what she asks, allowing her to pull them down. “Good girl.”

You try to control your breathing as she reaches down, touching you over your panties, feeling the damp spot. Your breath hitches and you tense under her touch.

“You okay?” she asks.

“I’m okay,” you confirm, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. You’re grateful for the lack of light in the room. “It’s… been a while.”

Natalie hums. “I can tell…”

Her hand slides underneath the fabric. You jolt when her skin brushes your heat. Her fingers slide through her folds, collecting your slick.

“I can tell,” she remarks. “You’re so fucking wet already.”

You can feel the rough calluses on her fingertips from her guitar as she touches you, finding your clit. She circles it with a certain expertise that makes you bit down on your lip, trying to not make too much noise.

“Let it out,” Natalie urges. “I wanna hear you.”

You have no choice but to do what she says. You let out a soft, shaky sound as your hands grip the comforter beneath you. Everything feels like too much.

“Yeah, just like that. You’re doing so good for me.”

Her fingers move lower, teasing your entrance. You hips arch against her, pressing into her hand. Without any warning, she slides her fingers inside.

You wince and grab her arm on instinct, the sudden stretch sharp and uncomfortable as your thighs clench around her wrist.

“Jesus,” she hisses, half to herself. “You’re tight.”

Your cheeks burn. If Natalie couldn’t already tell you were a virgin, she must suspect now. Her hand stills, giving your body time to adjust.

The sting slowly gives way into pleasure. Natalie starts moving her fingers, slow at first, then faster. You whine, your hips chasing the friction when her palm brushes your clit.

Her mouth returns to your breast, tongue flicking over your nipple in tandem with her fingers. The combination makes you groan.

The pressure builds fast in your lower stomach. You try to hold back, unsure if it’s supposed to feel this intense, but Natalie doesn’t let up.

“You gonna cum for me?” she asks almost teasingly. “C’mon, I wanna hear your pretty sounds.”

The pressure snaps.

A sound you didn’t know you could make forces its way out of you, your vision blurring and muscles tensing as pleasure floods through you.

Natalie slows, helping you through it. The teasing edge to her voice is gone when she speaks, “That’s it. Good girl. Fuck, look at you.”

You shove your face into the bed, chest heaving as the feeling fades. Humiliation replaces it. That was fast and, God, you were loud.

“Hey,” Natalie gently calls out, easing her fingers out of you. “You okay?”

You nod, unable to speak yet.

She leans down, lips brushing over your jaw. “You were perfect, Camera Girl.”

You’re unsure of what happens now. Or what this means. But when she lies down and pulls you closer to her, you melt into her and allow yourself to believe that it could mean something real.

Unfortunately, when you wake up in the morning to find the bed empty, you’re proven wrong.

[formulafanfics13]

Could you please write something with Lewis when you just come out of an long term relationship with an four year old daughter and while you like Lewis very much you’re scared for the first time he meets you’re daughter which looks so much like her dad with blond curls and blue eyes she loves her dad more than anything, and you have absolutely no idea how she will react when she sees you with another man so you decided that he will come over and you all have dinner together „as an friend“ to see how it goes. You underestimated how good Lewis is with kids squatting down on the floor so you’re daughter can study his tattoos and before you know it as you cook dinner the two sit on the floor talking and playing and when you sit down to eat she tells you everything about Lewis which ofcourse you already know: that he drives fast cars, lives vegan and has an dog named Roscoe.

As A Friend - LH44

Masterlist

Summary: After years of putting her daughter first, the reader finally invites Lewis Hamilton over for dinner — not officially as a boyfriend, but as something more than a friend. She’s terrified her daughter won’t understand or accept it, especially with lingering ties to her father. But from the moment Lewis walks in, he’s gentle, playful, and utterly devoted to making her daughter feel safe. They bond over tattoos, fast cars, and vegan cookies, easing all the tension she feared. What was supposed to be a cautious dinner becomes a quiet turning point — a beginning she didn’t dare hope for.

Content Warning: single parenthood, emotional recovery after a breakup, and the vulnerability of introducing a new partner to a child. It touches on the reader’s past relationship trauma, anxiety over familial change, and the tenderness of early emotional trust. No explicit content.

You’d been rehearsing the introduction for over an hour. Longer, if you counted the days of pacing and overthinking that came before this. What to say. Where to stand. Whether to crouch down beside your daughter and speak calmly, or just let it unfold naturally. There was no manual for this.

All you knew was that tonight, Lewis was coming over for dinner. Not as your boyfriend. Not officially. Not even unofficially, really. Just as a friend.

That’s what you’d told your daughter. Four years old, full of questions and stubborn as hell, with curls the colour of summer wheat and blue eyes that matched her father’s too well.

You hadn’t dated anyone seriously since your breakup. Not since her father. Not since the ugly, slow unraveling of a relationship that had once seemed like it might last forever.

And you’d been okay with that. For a long time. Happy, even. Focused on your daughter. Focused on survival. You didn’t need love. You had stability. You had giggles in the bath and early morning cartoons and crayon scribbles on the fridge. You had enough.

Until Lewis Hamilton, somehow, became part of your life.

You weren’t sure when it changed. When friendship shifted. When the easy texts and long conversations became something you looked forward to too much. When his smile softened just for you. When you realized that maybe, just maybe, you wanted something more.

But tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was about her. And the quiet, aching fear in your chest that said: what if she hates this? What if she sees him beside you and it breaks something?

Because your daughter was obsessed with her father. Still asked for him before bed. Still had a stuffed rabbit he gave her that she wouldn’t sleep without. You didn’t want to erase that. You didn’t want to confuse her. You just... didn’t want to hide from your own life anymore.

So you set the table. Took a deep breath. And waited. The doorbell rang at 6:03pm. She sprinted to the hallway before you could stop her, bare feet slapping against the floor, hair still damp from her post-nap bath. You reached her just in time to catch the edge of her excitement, kneeling down to speak softly in her ear.

“Remember what I said, baby. This is my friend, Lewis. He’s just here for dinner.”

She gave you a suspicious look, one you knew too well, her why are you lying to me, mum look, but nodded anyway.

You opened the door. And there he was.

Lewis Hamilton. Dressed in simple black trousers, a short-sleeved white tee that clung to his arms, and a quiet smile that made your stomach flip. He held a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of vegan chocolate chip cookies in the other.

“Hi,” he said, soft and warm.

“Hi,” you breathed back.

Then his eyes dropped. Found her. And oh. The way he crouched down immediately, the way his whole body softened, that was the first time your heart cracked wide open. “You must be the boss of the house,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees like he had all the time in the world. “I’m Lewis.”

She tilted her head, studying him like a scientist. Then her eyes flicked to his arms. “You have drawings.”

He laughed. “I do.”

She stepped closer. “What’s that one?”

“That’s a compass,” he said, pointing. “And this one’s my star sign. And this one-”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.”

You stood in the doorway, stunned, as your daughter pressed two small fingers to his skin, completely captivated. And Lewis? Lewis answered every question, let her trace the ink on his biceps, explained each symbol like it was the most important thing in the world.

By the time you blinked, they were sitting on the floor together. Her legs crossed, his body turned toward her. Like they’d known each other forever. Like she wasn’t your biggest fear come to life.

You turned back to the kitchen, heart pounding, and tried to focus on dinner. Pasta. Garlic bread. Salad. Nothing complicated. You listened to their voices filter in from the other room, soft and earnest and full of things you hadn’t expected. “Do you really drive fast cars?”

“Very fast.”

“Faster than mummy?”

He laughed. “I hope so.”

She giggled. “Do you have a dog?”

“I do. His name’s Roscoe. Want to see a picture?”

“Yes!”

You dropped the pasta spoon. By the time you brought the plates out and called them to the table, your daughter was practically buzzing.

“Mummy! Did you know Lewis doesn’t eat meat? Or cheese? Or eggs??”

You raised your eyebrows, smiling. “I did, actually.”

“And he has a dog named Roscoe, and he travels the whole world, and he said if I’m good I can sit in his car one day, not when it’s fast, though, just when it’s slow, and he lets Roscoe have his own seat on the plane!”

You looked at Lewis.

He shrugged, sheepish. “She asked.”

You sat down slowly, heart aching in a way you didn’t expect. Because she was smiling. Beaming. Safe and bright and not the least bit confused or afraid. You served the pasta. Passed the bread. And watched her tell Lewis all about her favourite cartoons, her school teacher, her toy rabbit, her dream of becoming a pilot and a fairy at the same time.

And Lewis? He listened. Really listened. Not just nodding politely, but asking questions, teasing her gently, laughing when she said she wanted to dye Roscoe pink one day.

Halfway through dinner, your daughter pointed at you and said, “Mummy likes you.”

You froze. Lewis blinked. “She pretended you’re just a friend,” she continued, totally serious. “But I think she wants to kiss you.”

You nearly dropped your fork. Lewis bit back a grin. “Is that so?”

“Yep.”

You looked at her, wide-eyed. “Sweetheart.”

She smiled like the little devil she was. “I think it’s okay. You’re nice. You didn’t even mind when I asked if you had any tattoos on your bum.”

You stared at the ceiling. Lewis laughed out loud.

The rest of the evening was a blur of warm moments, laughter, more questions, bedtime stories, promises of another visit. You tucked her in while she clutched her rabbit and whispered, “He’s not like Daddy. But that’s okay. I like him anyway.” And it almost broke you. 

When you came back into the living room, Lewis was still there. Quiet. Waiting. His hands folded in his lap, his smile gentle. “She’s brilliant,” he said.

“She’s four,” you replied, trying not to cry.

“She’s still brilliant.”

You sat beside him. Closer than before. 

“I thought she’d hate it. Seeing me with someone else.”

“She doesn’t.”

“No. She doesn’t.”

Lewis turned to you, voice low. “I’m not trying to replace anyone,” he said. “But I’d like to be here. If you’ll let me.”

And you nodded. Because for the first time in a long time, love didn’t feel like a risk. It felt like coming home.

[violetcamryn]

a bad day and reader comes home visibly frustrated and tired, LA! snotlout makes them forget abt it.. (smut)

first time writing REAL smut guys, wish me luck 😙

“Breath of Fresh Air”

Pairing: LA!Snotlout x fem!reader

Warnings: smut 18+, pet names / endearing names (baby, sweetheart, my love)

semi-modern AU because i couldn’t think of any other way to write this (they have a stove, but everything else is the same)

Snotlout was hunched over the stove, stirring what was soon to be dinner. The smell of meat stew wafted throughout the house. He had made some tea for you in preparation for when you’d arrive home, as he knew you had a particularly long day.

He had just turned the stove off as you opened the door with a thud. You kicked your shoes off and tossed your coat onto the floor. You made your way into the kitchen where he was, and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, before turning to pace the living room.

Snotlout noticed your agitated demeanour, and gave you a concerned look. He quickly took the pot off the stove, placed it on a hot plate, and made his way over to you.

You continued to pace the living room, mumbling things to yourself, wringing your hands through your hair. Snotlout was now directly beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he asked.

“I’m just…ugh i’m exhausted, and everything went horribly today” you said as you slumped onto the couch. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, rubbing them.

“Ruff and Tuff let the sheep escape again, I rolled my ankle while I was trying to help Astrid with Stormfly’s harness, and Fishlegs spilled his soup on me during lunch” you gestured down to the somewhat-faded splotch of used-to-be-soup on your pants.

“Oh baby, i’m sorry to hear that” Snotlout said, as his eyes slowly travelled to where you had gestured to.

“My back hurts so badly and all I want right now is you and some dinner” you said with a sigh.

Snotlout made his way back to the pot of stew, poured you a bowl, and set it down on the coffee table in front of you both.

As soon as he joined you on the couch, he noticed the needy look in your eyes, and quickly forgot about his plans to eat dinner. He repositioned himself so that he was sitting with his body facing towards you, and motioned for you to turn around.

You turned around, back facing him, and he began to massage your shoulders. His hands stayed there for a while, before running his hands through your hair and massaging your scalp. You could feel his breath ticking the back of your neck as he worked at your sore muscles.

Then, his hands travelled lower, as you let out a sigh. He massaged your lower back until he felt your muscles begin to relax.

His hands found their way back up your body, and after placing a quick kiss on your neck, you felt him swiftly manoeuvre your body so that you were lying on the couch beneath him.

His face was now mere inches from your face, and you smiled up at him before pulling him towards you. Your lips met and you snaked your hand around the back of his head to pull him closer. His hands made their way to tangle into your hair, and you decided that you would happily die right there from lack of oxygen, if it meant you could keep his lips on yours forever.

“Somebody’s desperate” he said while pulling back & taking a breath of fresh air. You let out a small laugh before his lips came crashing into yours again. You placed a hand on his jawline, feeling the slight stubble that had grown back since he had shaved.

You felt his hands travelling all over your body, and they found their resting place on your waist. He shuffled his body closer to you, letting out a breathy sigh. You could feel him becoming more aroused, as he began to lift your shirt over your head. As soon as your shirt had been discarded, his lips were on you, leaving a trail of kisses down your chest towards your lower stomach.

“Thank Odin I didn’t wear a bra today” you thought to yourself, as he took one of your breasts into his mouth, making you moan.

You felt his hands travel towards the waistband of your pants, and slowly ease them off your legs. His hands went back to your thighs, gently rubbing them. He looked up at you briefly, looking for any sign of objection, but you gave him a nod to signal for him to proceed.

“Please Snotlout…” you whined, as he teased the waistband of your panties with his finger.

“I love it when you beg for me sweetheart” he said with a smirk. He slipped your panties down and off your legs, and took a moment to look at you.

You looked beautiful, laid out on the couch, and he couldn’t take the pain of waiting any longer. He quickly sat up and discarded the remainder of his clothing, tossing them onto the floor.

You were now lying naked beneath him, as he lined himself up with your entrance. His hair looked disheveled, his breathing becoming deeper, and it just made you want him more.

“Please, Snotlout, I need you inside now” you whined.

He didn’t require any more pleading, because as soon as those words had left your mouth, he ducked down to kiss you while simultaneously thrusting himself inside.

The stretch was slightly painful, but only for a few seconds. He gave you plenty of time to adjust, caressing your sides to distract you.

You gave him a nod, signalling you were ready. You gripped the edge of the couch as he began to move, starting slowly and steadily, but soon quickening his pace.

You could feel all of the day’s worries melt away, only to be replaced with pure pleasure.

He continued to thrust inside of you, his hands finding the sides of your hips and using them as a place to grip. He alternated between looking at your pleasured facial expressions, and admiring your body, as he drove you closer to the edge.

You could feel the pleasure building, and you let go of the edge of the couch, only for your hands to finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

His head was now beside your ear, and you could hear the incredible noises that he was making as he continued to fuck you. Breathy moans, brought on by the way you were tugging on his hair, pulling him close.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could last, and you knew you didn’t want this to be over so soon.

“Slow…slower, please…I don’t want this to be over yet” you whined, placing a hand on his bicep.

“As you wish, my love” he replied.

He slowed down and let out a quiet moan as he focused on keeping his release at bay.

As he continued to slowly push you closer and closer to the finish line, his eyes were still admiring the way you looked laid out beneath him, and he bit his lips lightly to hold back a smile.

You felt the white hot bubble of pleasure that had been building, threatening to burst, and you motioned for him to move faster again.

He willingly obliged, picking up speed. He felt you up and down, his hands making contact with your waist, before moving to your breasts and then back down to your hips.

“Oh Snotlout…oh my Gods..” you cried out as you felt your orgasm wash over you suddenly. Snotlout continued to fuck you through it, until you felt his release, his voice quiet and desperate. His movements began to slow after a few seconds.

He let his body sink onto the couch next to yours, and you both spent a moment catching your breath.

Snotlout snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

“You sure know how to make a girl forget about a bad day” you said with a smile as you kissed him back.

“I love you, Y/N” Snotlout replied.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

AN: I feel like this was so bad, i’ve never written proper smut before. anyways i hope you enjoyed! 😅

[fangirlmermaid]

You got me in a crazy position. If you're on a mission, you got my permission

Summary: You hate John, and John hates you. During a mission, you get stuck with him.

pairing: John walker X Fem!reader, Platonic Bucky Banres, and Platonic Alexei

Warning: Enemies to lovers, Dom!Walker, Brat!reader (Kinda), mean comments, not much of a plot, blood, pet names, hair pulling, sexual choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys!!!!!!), missionary, Walker being a munch, grammar, and spelling mistakes.

I am a firm believer that it's the depression beard that makes him hot.

(Also, I'm so happy I finally finished this! Oh my gods, this took me forever to write!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What happened to him?” Bucky wondered, eyeing Walker as he, Alexei, and you returned from your mission. You and Alexei had a couple of bruises, but Walker looked like someone had tried to beat him to death with concrete.

“Ask her!” Walker muttered, using the back of his hand to wipe the trail of dried blood that once leaked from his nose. Alexei laughed at the memory, “It was amusing, she is a firecracker this one.” Alexei smiled, patting you on the back.

Bucky’s eyes landed on you. “Doll?” Bucky called, giving you a stern look. Bucky has been your best friend for years, meeting through Sam, which Sam regrets daily. You sighed, about to explain what happened, “She missed the target and punched me in the nose by accident!” Walker yelled, a vein popping out on the side of his neck, “Who said it was an accident?” You deadpanned, glaring at the 99-cent store version of Captain America, causing Alexei to release a belly laugh.     

You’ve never liked Walker ever since the announcement on TV. What drove your hatred was the snide comments towards Bucky when all of you were trying to catch Karli and the Flag Smashers. Bucky was somehow able to put that in the back and turn a new leaf over with Walker, but you? You wanted Walker’s head on a stick.

“Doll,” Bucky warned, you noticed he was trying to hide his smile. “He should’ve ducked!” You defended, feeling your anger rise. Classic Walker is always playing the victim. Bucky shook his head. “I’ll talk to her, Walker. Just go clean up,” Bucky explained. Walker gave you a smug smile before walking off. You clenched your fist, about to take another swing at Walker.

Bucky blocked your view of Walker as if he knew what you were thinking, “I don’t understand how you can forgive him. Don’t want to use him for target practice?” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky gave you the look a mom would give you when her kid acted out in public, “Doll. You need to let that go. Try forgiving him,” Bucky explained. You stared at him like he had grown three heads. When did he become the voice of reason?

“I am super forgiving, okay?”

“Doll”

“But sometimes it takes time. I’m still trying to find it in my heart to forgive Walker's parents for…reproducing”

You noticed Bucky tried to hide a chuckle, but you know it wouldn’t save you from his speech about the power of friendship and teamwork.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This mission was supposed to be easy.

Enter the Hydra compound, get some information, and blow the base up. That’s what you summarize from Valentina’s long…long explanation. 

The team was so confident that once the Quinjet landed, everyone split and went on their own.

Which was how you got caught by Hydra agents. They took your weapons and threw you in a cell.

You slam your body against the cell door, trying to knock it down. You looked through the little bar window in the cell door and started cursing out the agent.

“Sunshine?” a familiar voice called out. 

You lowered your head and closed your eyes “Fuck me” you grumbled not believing how unlucky you were.

You turned around and there stood Walker looking stupid. You looked up at the ceiling. “Out of anyone on the team, it had to be him?! I would rather hear Alexei go on and on about how that partnership with Wheaties was the best thing we did,” You said, wondering why the universe is playing a cruel joke on you. Walker furrowed his eyebrows. “This isn’t exactly a picnic for me either, sunshine!” Walker snapped, leaning against the wall like the bad boy in an '80s teen rom-com. 

A few minutes had passed, and you’ve been trying to break down the door. Walker was banging his head against the wall, waiting for you to rub your two half-dead brain cells together (HIS WORDS, NOT MINE!!) and realize that it was no use. The two of you were stuck in this cell. Together. With no way out.

“Jesus…Stop!” Walker snapped, pushing himself off the wall, glaring down at you. A frustrated sigh was released from your lips, “At least I’m doing something,” You grumbled, bringing your attention to the worst man on the planet, Walker’s brows furrowed. “What does that mean?” his voice laced with venom, your eyes threw daggers at Walker. You were chest to chest with him. “Do I have to spell it out for you? Are you that stupid?” You spat, placing your hands on your hips.

Walker charged towards you, each step fueled with anger and hatred for you. Walker grabbed you by the throat and slammed you into the wall, “Listen here, Sunshine.” Walker’s tone darkened, his eyes full of rage. “You don’t get to walk around with that bitch ass attitude of yours and expect anyone not to argue back” John warned, you were trying to keep your glare in place and not let the whorish thoughts seep into your brain; Walker just had to accidentally stumble on what you were into.

“Not so tough now, are you sunshine?” Walker taunts, wrapping his long fingers around your throat to hold you better. You were trying to keep it together, not let your tough mask slip. “Got nothing to say?” Walker muttered, and you shivered from his hot breath. Jesus, it was getting harder and harder.

Walker's grip tightened; it wasn’t enough for you to go into fight or flight, but it fogged your brain. A moan escaped from your lips, and you looked at Walker in sheer panic when you realized. Walker, on the other hand, was smug. “Are you into this?” Walker mocked, You didn’t trust your voice to say anything, which gave Walker his answer “Holy shit, you are. Who thought you were a slut” Walker teased pushing his knee between your thighs. Now you could blame that you weren’t getting enough oxygen to your brain or that bullshit saying that maybe deep deep down you always had a tiny crush on him, which is a total lie. 

John lean in close your noses almost touch “Maybe I should fuck the attitude right out of you” John grinned, his eyes darting down to your soft lips. You doe like eyes gazing into John’s lustful eyes as you nodded, “I need words sunshine…Do you want this?” John told in a stern tone, just because he hates you doesn’t mean he won’t make sure that you want this. “Yes” You moaned, grinding your clothed cunt against his thigh.  

John smashed his lips onto yours. Walker never could’ve imagined your lips to be this soft, not that he imagined it before; that would be crazy. You reciprocated the kiss, and Walker's tongue glided across your bottom lip, asking to enter. You opened your mouth, and John slipped his tongue in. Your teeth crashed together, your tongues dancing.

Walker unbuttoned your pants and slid them down to your ankles along with your underwear. Walker took his gloved fingers and slid them through your wet folds. Walker broke the kiss, ignoring your whine, “All this for me, sunshine?” he teased, his stern gaze making you squirm. 

Walker sat on his knees, tearing off your boots, pants, and underwear. Walker left a trail of wet kisses from your knee until his nose brushed against your dripping wet cunt, you gasp feeling the scratchy feel of his beard rubbing against your soft skin. Walker threw one of your legs over his shoulder.

Walker hooked his arms under the back of your thighs, his hands latched onto your hips, pinning you against the wall. His grip is tight but gentle, definitely going to leave a bruise.

“Not so tough now, are you, sunshine?” Walker teased, looking up into your frustrated eyes “Just fuck me, Walker” You muttered, bucking your hips.

“You want my mouth on your pretty pussy, Sunshine?,” Walker smirked, placing one hand on your abdomen and pinning you against the wall, you felt your face growing hot “yes” you mumbled, hating how he had this power over you. Walker’s eyes lit up, enjoying this “beg me,” he ordered, his thumb circling your clit, a moan vibrated through your chest.

Walker retracts his thumb, causing a pathetic whine to be released from your plump lips “You would of cum by now if you just do what I told!” Walker pointed out, stopping his movement. You glared down at him, trying to swallow the last bit of your pride. “I want you, I need you. Baby, oh baby,” you deadpanned, not wanting to satisfy him. 

Walker raised his eyebrows, “Fine! If you want to act like a fucking brat…” John trailed off, slowly removing his thumb from your cunt. That’s when something snapped inside you. “Please, John, please fuck me…I-I’ll be such a good girl for you. ” You whimpered, clenching around nothing. Walker hissed feeling his aching dick rub against his pants “See now was that so hard?” Walker grinned blowing into your cunt, you gasped. 

Walker’s tongue licked through your folds. “F-fuck” You moaned, tangling your fingers into Walker’s soft blonde locks, tugging at them. Walker pressed his tongue into, and his nose was pressed against your clit “John” You cried out, wanting to grind your cunt onto his face but Walkers grip kept you still.

“That’s it, sunshine. Scream to the whole compound who’s fucking you this good” John’s voice vibrated making you tug his hair. “JOHN!” you groan as Walker nipped at your clit.

. 

You felt a familiar warmth in your core. “F-fuck, JoHn! C-Close!” You cried out, throwing your head back. John’s chest vibrated “Cum, Sunshine! Cum like the slut that you are” John spat before diving back into your folds. His nose brushing against your clit.

Waves of shock ran through your body, and your grip on Walker’s hair tightened. You released a silent scream, feeling your whole body shake. John drank your cum like it was the only thing that could satisfied his thirst.

Walker held your hips as he pulled you into a dirty kiss; you could taste yourself on his tongue.  

John sucked on the pulse of your neck, you started to unzip his pants; panting. John released a dark chuckle, causing a shiver down your spine. Walker pulled away, his lust-filled gaze made you squirm. “You want me, Sunshine?” John smirked, towering over you, his hand pressed on the wall next to your head. 

You felt your cunt ache from wanting John’s dick, “You’re greedy…aren’t you?” John teased, placing another hickey on your neck. Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “If you're not going to do anything. Then I’ll satisfy myself,” You muttered, not sure what was giving you the confidence to say that. 

John pulled away, his eyes darkened. “You think you can?” John muttered, unzipping your vest. You kept going, enjoying Walker’s buttons being pushed. “I know, I can.” You smirked.

John threw the rest of your clothes off, guiding you to lie on the ground. You propped up on your elbows to watch him undress. He pulled down his boxer, his penis smacked his stomach. John’s penis was flushed…leaking… and big, so, so big. Like, wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks, kind of big. You tore your eyes away from it as you quickly wiped the drool off your chin.

John pinned your wrist above your head, using half of his super soldier strength when you tried to break free. Your eyes pleading at John, “I want to touch you! Please, John!” You pouted, Walker repositioned your wrists into one hand while his other hand grabbed his member. “Should’ve behaved then, Sunshine,” John mocked, rubbing his length through your folds. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “I-I just wanted you!” You whined. John shook his head. “You already have me…But now I gotta punish you,” John stated.

John pumped himself before lining up with you. The moment he slid into you, you swore you saw stars. John froze, waiting for the pain to be wiped away from your face “Fuck John! S-So big!” You moaned, feeling pleasure washing away the pain. John gave a smug smile. “That’s right, sunshine.” John moaned, feeling your warm walls hug him.

Walker slammed himself deep into you, his length kissing your cervix. “Still think you can make yourself feel this good?” John teased, his fingers pinching your perky nipples. You arched your back, gasping. “No!” you moaned, shaking your head. John hissed from your walls sucking him back in.

Walker’s thumb circle your throbbing clit “Close!” you hoarsed, Walker’s thrust became sloppy “Let go for me, Sunshine” Walker panted, a murderous moan was released from your lips, echoing through the whole compound as your released painted Walker’s cock.

“Where do you wan’t me to cum, sunshine?” Walker huffed, gazing down at your state of ecstasy. Your brain was completely foggy, but the only thing your brain could process was Walker. “Please, Walker..inside me..please” you whimpered, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks. “Oh yeah? You want to me fuck you full until I’m leaking down your leg? John smirked, and you moaned at his words. John smacked your cunt making you gasp “Say it or I’ll pull out!” Walker grumbled. Your eyes filled with panic, John thrust deeper. “FUCK-yes! I want to be full of you until I’m leaking,” you moaned, rolling your hips. “Good girl.” John moaned, his warmth spilled into you.

Both of you were trying to catch your breath, and Walker stayed buried in you. Waiting for you to be ready for the next round; he was going to fill you up. John was determined to do it. 

“Doll?... Walker?” a familiar voice echoed from down the hall, snapping the two of you out of your trance. You both look at each other, eyes widened. The color drained from your face, Bucky finding your sweaty naked bodies, and John inside you was the last thing you needed. 

“O-Over here, Bucky!” Walker yelled, pulling out his semi hard dick making you feel empty. Both of you scrambled to put your suits back on. To your luck, you couldn’t find your holster anywhere “Shit. Shit. Shit” You cursed under your breath, looking everywhere for it.

“Found it,” Walker announced, power walking towards you. Walker was scrambling puting your holster on “Fucking hurry” you grumbled, glancing at the door hoping Bucky wasn’t there. “Stop squirming.” Walker command,  clicking the holster around your waist. 

You tried to smooth out the crinkles in your pants. “I still hate you,” you admitted, glaring at the Junior Varsity Captain America. Walker shook his head in disbelief. “You’re no picnic either, sunshine,” Walker spat back, dusting some dirt off the sleeve of his suit. 

The cell door was ripped off its hinges. You both jumped away from each other as Bucky entered the cell. Your eyes threw daggers at Walker. “We’ve been looking for you,” Bucky announced, his eyes darting between you and Walker. A small smile tugged on Bucky’s lips when he noticed the sweaty, messy hair, and some hickies that were poking out of your suit. 

You left them behind, not wanting to deal with Bucky before you fully comprehend what happened in the cell yourself. 

Bucky turned his attention towards John, his hands on his hips, and his smile widened. John glared at his fellow super soldier, “Shut up, Bucky”. 

[promptsforwhumps]

I saw your demon Whumper and angel Whumpee, and now I want to see what you could do with the opposite.

Ask and you shall receive

Angel whumper is a divine warrior and hunter. (Also angel whumper has long sharp nails. Remember that, it'll be important later)

Demon whumpee while being a lower level demon is no pushover and can hold their own in a fight, mostly with lower and mid level angels.

Angel whumper comes across demon whumpee who's partying on earth and corrupting humans. (angel whumper took that personally)

Angel whumper and demon whumpee get into a fight. (Angel whumper is impressed that whumpee has some skills. Whumper says "Impressive little demon, but we're on different levels." And uses some holy magic to knock out whumpee)

Angel whumper locks demon whumper up with holy chains. These do hurt/burn whumpee's skin. (this is most likely happening in their own angelic home)

Whumper has holy writing written on their long sharp nails and slowly drags them down on whumpee's body.

Whumper will force whumpee to drink holy water (it burns their throat)

If whumpee has a demon tail, whumper turns whumpee into their own demonic pet.

Whumper has a collar made for whumpee with holy writing all over it (save for the tag, the tag will read something like Little Fire Princess. Mostly to humiliate the demon)

The collars words spread all over whumpee's body before disappearing (whumpee is terrified of what that means)

If whumpee misbehaves (which they do cause they're no angels pet) whumper says one of the words on the collar and whumpee gets shocked with holy magic.

Also going back to the words that spread all over whumpee's body, depending on the word whumper uses, whumpee is forced to obey a command. (whumpee hates this so much)

Whenever whumper pets whumpee it stings because whumper uses angelic magic.

Whumper loves to show off their demonic pet and the neat tricks it can do.

Whumpee is still forced to drink holy water.

Whumper steps on whumpee's tail or puts a frilly bow on it. (with a bell)

This is only if whumpee has horns and can work for both things.

Whumpee is proud of their horns.

Whumpee's horns are sensitive

Whumper either files down whumpee's horns (which is slow and painful) or yanks them off (which is just painful and take forever to grow back)

[mrsjjongstby]

Love at first sight Jay x f!reader where Jay finds his seat beside reader at an Oasis reunion concert in the UK and falls in love when she greets him with a smile. They end up having so much fun together belting out the songs and dancing that they leave the concert once it’s over with each others number🥹🤍

Hiii love tysm for this req!!! this is a very short drabble but i hope ull like it! tw: nothing really. this is so cutie....... hahhahaha

___________________________________________________________

The sky was cloudy, but not grey. The kind of overcast that made the stage lights glow even brighter. Excitement buzzed through the crowd as people slowly took their places at the long-awaited Oasis reunion concert in the heart of London.

Jay adjusted the strap of his camera, scanning for his seat with a quiet kind of thrill. He wasn’t usually one for massive crowds, but Oasis? This was worth it.

And then— He saw you.

Already seated, legs crossed, hoodie sleeves tugged over your hands, your cheeks just slightly flushed from the evening breeze. You looked up as he approached.

And you smiled.

"Hey," you said, cheerful and warm, like you'd been expecting him. "Looks like we’re seat buddies."

Jay blinked. His heart stuttered.

“…Yeah. I’m Jay,” he managed with a breathless laugh, sitting down beside you. “You a big fan?”

“The biggest,” you grinned. “I might scream ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’ louder than Liam.”

He chuckled, biting his lip to hide the way your energy was already settling under his skin. God, she’s cute.

The lights dimmed. The crowd roared.

And then the guitars kicked in.

It didn’t take long before the two of you were on your feet—belting out lyrics like childhood best friends, arms raised, voices hoarse with joy. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard. Or felt so seen. Every time he glanced at you, you were glowing.

And then came “Champagne Supernova.”

You swayed beside him, eyes half-closed, singing like the song lived in your bones. Jay looked over—and it hit him like a punch to the chest.

He was falling.

Hard and fast and hopelessly.

When the final notes rang out and the stage lights dimmed, neither of you moved right away. You both stood still, breathless, hearts racing for reasons only half-related to the music.

“I don’t want this night to end,” you said softly.

Jay smiled. “It doesn’t have to.”

You looked up. “What do you mean?”

He held out his phone. “Give me your number. I want to keep screaming lyrics with you forever.”

Your laugh was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard.

And as you typed your number into his phone, you nudged him with your elbow. “You owe me a pint after this, seat buddy.”

Jay’s grin was stupid and lovestruck. “Anything for you.”

___________________________________________________________

©mrsjjongstby all writing belong to me. do not copy, modify or repost my works.

[forkshighschooler]

Hi! Can you do the reactions of the wolves to us saying I love you for the first time? Thank you! I love your twilight works!

💕“I Love You” — First Time Reactions

Pairings: Twilight Wolf Pack x Female!Reader (Featuring: Paul Lahote, Embry Call, Jacob Black, Jared Cameron, Quil Ateara, Sam Uley, Seth Clearwater, and Leah Clearwater x GN!Partner)

Summary: You’re finally ready to say those three little words, and the wolf pack boys (and Leah) are so not ready for how much it affects them.

Warning: Pure fluff, strong imprint feels, a few tears, emotionally overwhelmed wolves.

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading! And thank you so much for the request — I loved writing this! 💛🐺

⸻

🐺 Paul Lahote

You say it casually while he’s mid-rant about someone cutting you off in traffic.

“I love you, by the way.”

He completely short-circuits.

Goes dead silent. Stares at you like you just threw a rock at his face.

“You—you what? Say it again. I need to hear it right.”

You repeat it.

He immediately pulls you into his arms, burying his face in your neck.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear. You just made me feral and soft at the same time.”

⸻

🐺 Embry Call

You’re cuddling, and he’s rambling about nothing, when you whisper, “I love you.”

His entire body tenses.

He pulls back to look at you.

“Wait, did I dream that? Or did you actually say it?”

You laugh and say it again.

Embry lights up like a puppy. “I’m gonna remember this moment forever.”

⸻

🐺 Jacob Black

You say it while handing him a sandwich you made. “Love you.”

He pauses. Looks up.

Then his eyes soften, completely.

“You mean that?”

You nod.

He pulls you in, one hand still holding the sandwich.

“I love you too. And now this sandwich means everything.”

⸻

🐺 Jared Cameron

You say it when he’s being goofy, mid-laugh.

“I love you, you dork.”

He freezes.

Then slowly smiles — a wide, surprised grin.

“You finally said it! I’ve been DYING over here!”

He picks you up and spins you like a Disney prince. “I’m never letting you go now.”

⸻

🐺 Quil Ateara

You say it while fixing his hoodie drawstrings. “I love you, you know that?”

He stares at you, wide-eyed, mouth slightly open.

Then he hugs you so tight you can barely breathe.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to hear that from. I love you more.”

⸻

🐺 Sam Uley

You say it quietly one night while he’s holding you, your head on his chest.

“I love you, Sam.”

He kisses the top of your head. “I knew it. I felt it in you.”

Then softly adds, “I love you. I have from the start. Saying it out loud feels… like finally breathing.”

⸻

🐺 Seth Clearwater

You’re both watching a movie, holding hands. You say it like it’s the most natural thing.

“I love you.”

Seth’s whole face turns red.

His voice cracks. “Y-you do?”

You nod.

He doesn’t speak for a second — just stares at you in awe.

Then, like a burst of sunshine:

“I love you too. Like so much. Like ‘write it in the sky’ kind of love.”

⸻

🐺 Leah Clearwater

You say it after a long hike, sweaty, exhausted, both of you laughing.

“I love you, Lee.”

She freezes. Looks at you like you just stole all the air out of her lungs.

Then covers it with a smirk. “Took you long enough.”

But her eyes shine.

Later, when no one’s watching, she murmurs against your neck:

“I love you too. More than I’ll ever admit out loud.”

Disclaimer:

I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

[silkysoftie]

Laito fanfic was so good!! Can you write something like that about Reiji? (Smut with Gentle Reiji!!!)

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

reiji sakamaki x female reader

summary: after a harsh punishment for a simple mistake, reiji decides to finally indulge in his affection for you.

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, hurt/comfort, mild angst, sadism, bdsm, whipping, wound care, blood, degradation/humiliation, tears, fingering, pet names, squirting

a/n: sorry this took so long! out of all the diaboys, i’m least familiar with reiji’s character and lore since i haven’t played through his route and only know him from his appearances in the other routes and the anime. i hope i was able to do him justice! thank you for the request anon, this was a real challenge!

Long, delicate fingers trace their way down the raw, irritated skin of your back. With each careful press against the torn flesh, your body flinches involuntarily, the stinging pain drawing a hiss from between your lips.

Reiji’s eyes narrow as you instinctively run from his touch, a small sigh escaping him in response. But despite his frustration, he says nothing, instead continuing to dress the wounds he’d inflicted on you only a few moments earlier.

With time, you’d come to understand Reiji a bit… his need for control, his desire to blame others, most notably his elder brother. Reiji relentlessly sought the things he lacked in his childhood, forever chasing a mother that would not see him and hoping to win the affections of an indifferent father.

But you.. you saw him.

Perhaps it was because he forced your eyes upon him, scolding and punishing you for even the slightest misstep.

He desired the absolute perfection he once saw in his mother. A facade that quickly came crumbling down with her death… perhaps he meant for you to take up her pedestal of superiority now.

Whatever the reason, Reiji had seemed to take a liking to you… though his infatuation was not enough to protect you from his wrath.

It was a simple mistake, just a small misstep. You’d accidentally bumped into a shelf and sent one of Reji’s prized teacups falling to the floor, the delicate porcelain shattering.

Reiji was furious, whip in hand faster than you could even apologize.

He yanked your nightgown over your head rather forcefully, leaving you bare, before bending you over the kitchen counter in a humiliating display.

Leather cracked against your skin like lightning, leaving a violently red lash in its place.

Reiji punished you without hesitation or mercy, reprimanding you for your tears, “Honestly, what an insufferably sensitive girl you are. How can you cry over a punishment which you’ve inflicted upon yourself? You should be ashamed.”

Reiji is nothing if not thorough.

After he’s made sure you’ve successfully been put back in your place the flames of his fury finally cool.

In no time at all, his wet tongue finds the sensitive skin of your back, carefully licking up the warm blood that trickles down it. He claims it would be a ‘waste’ not to indulge in it.

As Reiji sits you up and begins dressing your wounds, you find yourself unable to keep your emotions in check. You’re so tired… so hurt.

Reiji finishes bandaging you quickly, his experience in such treatment evident, before leaving your side in favor of cleaning his whip.

The moment his back has turned, the tears you’d so desperately been holding back begin to fill your eyes, blurring your vision.

But, of course, nothing escapes the second Sakamaki son, his piercing gaze finding yours after the first little sniffle escapes you.

“That’s enough now, no more tears… darling,” the name feels foreign on his tongue, but he forces it out nonetheless, hoping it’s enough to console you as he returns to his whip, meticulously cleaning the instrument with his handkerchief.

After his task is finished, Reiji glances up once more to find you staring back at him, the tears that had been pooling in your lash line finally dribbling out and down your cheeks.

“R-Reiji…” you hiccup, voice wobbling embarrassingly as the tears roll down your face. Reiji’s eyebrows shoot up into his hair, surprised by your outburst of emotion. Unsure of what to do, his gloved hands fidget with the whip.

“What did I just say?” his words are harsh, but they don’t carry their typical bite, an unfamiliar softness lingering around the edges.

“I’m s-sorry,” you rub frantically at your eyes, but it’s of little use, “It just… it hurts.”

Reiji stalls for a moment, carefully debating his next actions. He ought to scold you, ought to punish you again for your disobedience. But, the sight of you, hunched over and curled in on yourself like a wounded animal, glittering tears dripping down your face, skin stained scarlet and shoulders shaking… it almost has him regretting punishing you in the first place. Before he can come to a decision, your pathetic whimpers interrupt his train of thought.

“P-please,” you stutter out, reaching a trembling hand out toward him, the other still clutching your chest that’s quickly rising and falling with each violent sob.

Reiji’s unsure of what you’re asking, but perhaps you don’t even know yourself, your most base instincts bubbling to the surface in such a vulnerable state.

Though it’s with great hesitance, Reiji sets his whip aside and slowly makes his way back to you, eyes narrowed suspiciously as if he were expecting some kind of trick. But, as he crouches down in front of you, gaze traveling down your shivering frame, he realizes there’s no trick, just a hand outstretched in fear, desperately groping amongst the darkness in hopes of finding some sort of comfort in such a cruel and unloving world. A hand so incredibly similar to his own…

Affection for you swells unexpectedly in his chest, the lightest dusting of pink settling high on his cheekbones. You’re so frail, so vulnerable… how could you navigate this life without him?

So, even though his father wouldn’t approve, Reiji decides to provide that which you seek.

“I know… I know it hurts, but you did very well,” he takes your hand in his own, silk gloves smooth on your heated skin, “I think you deserve a reward for taking your lashings so obediently.”

Your hand flinches in his grasp, anticipating the worst. Reiji’s ‘rewards’ often involved more pain… but the gentle way in which is hand clutches yours tighter has you questioning everything you’ve ever known about him.

Though he says nothing, his intentions are clear… ‘don’t run away this time; instead, trust me.’

So trust him you do.

After he stands from his crouched position, you allow Reiji to lay you back against the table without complaint. But, the wood is harsh against your wounds making painful whines leave your throat. Unusually sympathetic to your suffering, Reiji quickly pulls off his coat, sliding it underneath you to protect your bandaged skin.

A little smile tugs at the corner of your lips at his kind gesture… something that makes Reiji’s chest feel abnormally warm. You hardly ever smile at him, mind too preoccupied with staying out of trouble.

He leans down over you, much like a dragon protecting his hoard, shielding you from the outside world… from the pain.

Reiji stares down his nose at you as he takes his glove between his fangs, slowly pulling the fabric off in an enticing display. You’re unsure of what’s to come, but Reiji’s removal of his precious gloves means it can only be one thing: messy.

You do your best not to flinch when his hand drags down your exposed abdomen, his skin icy cold against your own. A shudder travels down your spine, goosebumps prickling your arms.

He leans in close to your ear, sharp canines grazing your flushed skin, “I will make you feel pleasure, just let me have my way with you.”

And you obey, because Reiji may cruel and unforgiving, but he never lies.

His hand finds your core, the path down your body all but memorized. Reiji’s gentle touch to your folds sets your nerves ablaze, an involuntary moan slipping from between your lips. If you weren’t excited before, you definitely are now, warmth pooling in your belly and slowly leaking out of you.

A cocky smirk tugs at the corner of Reiji’s lips when his fingers come away sticky with slick, pleased to see your arousal and to have successfully taken your mind off the painful cuts littering your back.

He wastes no time in rewarding you, fingers entering you with ease.

“You’re such a well behaved girl, always doing your best for me, hm?”

You nod, too caught up in the pleasure to do much more than moan. Reiji’s tongue darts out to lick his lips as he watches you squirm underneath him, wishing he could just eat you up right then and there. But he can’t… you’re far too precious for that… too helpless.

“That’s it, darling. Just let go and submit to me,” his hand picks up the pace, fingers pumping in and out of your messy cunt, “Only I can please you like this. Only I can take care of you. Don’t you dare think of anyone else, you belong to me.”

Reiji’s words have you nearing the finish line, his possessiveness lighting a fire in your heart. Your thighs twitch as your back arches off the table, blessing Reiji with a wonderful view of your chest.

Reiji can’t help himself any longer, leaning down to lick a stripe up your abdomen and between the valley of your breasts, stopping at your collarbones. His fangs eagerly sink into your skin, pulling a cry from your throat.

“R-Reiji!” his careful attention to your pussy paired with the stinging pain in your chest sends you tumbling over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with more force than anticipated.

Reiji blinks in surprise when you unexpectedly squirt, wetness leaking onto the table below, leaving puddles. His shirt is soaked, something he might have punished you for in the past, but this time he pays it no mind.

When you finally come back down to earth he carefully pulls his fangs from you, a bit of blood dripping down is chin.

You’re so tired that the sight of him staring down at you, blood running down his face and his front covered in your release is somehow comical. Perhaps it’s the blood loss making you delirious.

You giggle quietly before weakly whispering, “You’re a messy eater, Reiji.”

Surprised you would be so bold, Reiji quirks an eyebrow. Despite it all, he’s pleased to have been the one to bring out your silly side.

And as you grin up at him like a love drunk fool Reiji realizes you are perfect. Maybe not in the way his mother once was, but still perfect… perfect to him.

“Perhaps…” he mumbles, a little smile dancing on his lips.

tags:

[seiwas]

Of course I forgot to send in the cute birthday celebration challenge forgive meee 😭 (but omg no pressure to answer if the birthday girl isn’t feeling up for it!!)

But let’s try…

Sun + Moon for our blasty boy Bakugo 👀

you catch katsuki in the in-betweens.

he’s grown suspicious of it—you know he out of all people would notice; but you neither confirm nor deny that it’s intentional.

there’s something about katsuki in that sliver of space and time right before sunrise and sunset—right before the shift into something new.

“someone’s excited,” you sneak up behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you kiss his cheek.

he grumbles before giving you a side-eye, cheeks turning a shade darker under the twilight. his lips part slightly as if he’s about to say something, but he tuts instead, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth—no sharpness, no bite.

you look at him curiously, hanging on to the stillness of the hour.

today is supposed to be a busy day—the start of a long trip for you and katsuki; the start of his first ever long trip, actually.

“somethin’ on my face or some shit?”

you snap out of staring, gaze falling straight into his—vermillion red softened into a deep mauve amidst the blue light.

this is why you do it—

the perpetual frown on his face is gone, the tightness of his jaw loosened. there’s a look in his eyes that tells you there’s been something on his mind for a long, long while.

—this is why you catch katsuki in the in-betweens.

you give him a small smile, a little mischievous as you lean in and peck him on the nose.

“now you do,” you giggle as you inch closer on the wooden step.

he rubs his nose immediately, checking for smudges of lipstick, “fuckin—“

“just all my lovin’,” you tease.

you’re half expecting him to get back at you for it—to tickle you or smother you in kisses of his own; katsuki can be aggressive in love, a fact you’ve come to know well over the years.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he stares. a few paused seconds that feel slowed down to eternity. there’s the look again, like something’s been on his mind, combined with the look people say he only has for you.

suddenly, you feel nervous—for what, you don’t know, but your hand searches for his out of instinct. it’s damp when your palm sticks against his, his fingers intertwining with yours like a habit of his own.

he turns your clasped hands over, catching view of the back of yours.

it stays quiet for a few moments—a side of him you only see in times like this. you know there’s a war waging on in his head, a decision he’s been mulling over just waiting to be spilled out.

you know because katsuki only ever sits out before sunrise when he has a lot on his mind.

“you okay?” you whisper.

he hums, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb, “just thinkin’.”

“you can tell me…” you nudge, “…if you want,” the butterflies in your stomach flapping harder.

you hold your breath.

he chuckles, that damn attractive half-sigh, “don’t know how yet.”

and you think you know what it is—a conversation you have every now and then, always with open-ended conclusions. katsuki has his issues, and so do you—

“just say it how it is,”

you never pressed him for answers, fully content to live at the pace he wanted because you loved him and that was enough.

—but when katsuki looks at you like this, like you’re everything gone right in his life, it’s hard not to think about the possibilities of more.

tears begin to collect along your waterline as he leads your hand into his pocket, your fingertips grazing a small velvet box.

you choke up, tears falling as you pout.

“woke up in the middle of the night with a fuckin’ god awful migraine,” he starts, wiping your tears with his thumb, “so i thought i’d go for a run, y’know, sweat it out and shit.”

you nod, listening.

“but when i got out of bed, you started mumblin’ my name,” he takes a deep breath, “thought you were awake, honestly, but you didn’t say anythin’ when i asked what you needed.”

“looked like you had a nightmare, so i went back to bed, and—” he pauses, collecting his words as he breathes out, “—you hugged me n’—”

his eyes gloss over as he tucks you into his side.

“—you told me you loved me.”

it’s not anything new—you both know that; you tell him you love him all the time. but—

“fuck, i’m ramblin’,” he half chuckles again.

“i love that about you too,” you sniffle, half-giggling as you nudge his chin with your nose.

you intentionally catch katsuki in the in-between’s because you love the side of him that comes out when he’s a little loose-lipped; a little less tense from all the day’s worries. you love the way he rambles, how he goes off on a tangent when he’s especially passionate about something.

he gives you a look so soft, your heart swells.

a small smile makes its way to katsuki’s face as he grips your hand tighter.

“couldn’t go back to sleep ‘cause all i was thinkin’ about was how to keep it this way forever.”

you’ve pictured this moment a few times before, all in different scenarios, situations, locations—always with the note that even if it didn’t happen, you’d be okay.

but now you have this: you and katsuki, on the wooden steps right by your garden bathed in twilight.

“decided on it for a while, just didn’t know when would be right,” he fishes the box out of his pocket, fiddling with it as he takes your hand in his other one.

“i know you said that lovin’ me was enough, but forever’s a fuckin’ long time,” he half-chuckles again, a little choked up, “you didn’t think i’d let you waste that on some loser who won’t even ask you to marry him, did you?”

you don’t think you’re coherent when you respond, a mess of tears and all the love you can pour out. katsuki doesn’t even get to show you the ring before you tackle him, nodding into his chest.

it doesn’t matter, anyway—

it was more than enough that he even asked.

n/a: thank u for sending this prompt erika!!! i am so rusty but i am writing this with all the katsuki feelings in me, my heart could burst!!!! sun & moon = twilight just because of the presence of both during that hour; i also just think it’s such a delicate balance to have—which i think also describes their relationship! katsuki has commitment issues 🥲 sorry, i love writing him in the process of healing ajkdndkd also !!! i also think katsuki can be romantic in his own way like wdym he reads all those shoujo mangas … there is stored romance in that boy . maybe not the smooooothest but yk. it works. and also, he wasn't rlly planning on proposing at this moment (more during the trip) but !! just felt right yk?

[martyreddie]

fic update: map of my heart (this is where we live)

aka the buddie queering the map fic!

first things first i would like to say that i have learned my lesson and will never make promises and/or assumptions regarding 1) update time 2) word count 3) chapter count of this fic ever again. I would utter some kind of reassurance that this is the last time I split a chapter, but I am afraid of jinxing it. anyway, here are 26k that have been marinating in my drafts for over half a year now :)

chapter summary:

Eddie wants, and he wants, and he wants.

snippet:

When Eddie arrives at the station, it's with a full belly and newfound conviction to make things right. Not in the desperate fix-it-by-any-means-necessary-and-if-it-kills-me kinda sense that’s cost him way too much already, but in the go-at-this-calm-and-collected-and-figure-things-out-before-you-do-anything type of way.  He’s done with panicking.  No rash decisions, no catastrophizing; he’ll take his time to think about what to do about Chris's tournament situation. He’s got at minimum a week, so he really doesn’t have to drag all of this to work with him. The opposite, actually; Eddie’s decided that he’s going to use this 24 to take a breather and get his head on straight.  Unfortunately, it seems someone upstairs takes affront at that particular choice of words and immediately upon entering the building bestows upon him the vision of Buck half-dressed as he’s shuffling into his uniform, a sight that captivates Eddie’s attention so wholly, he walks face-first into the glass doors to the locker room. 

read the full chapter on ao3

[heymrspatel]

ian’s feeling a little self conscious and mickeys just straight up loving on his husband and telling him how sexy and fine he looks!

ohohooo boy you've hit me right in the chest with this one... ok, let's see!

---

ian's having one of those days. those days that don't happen super often anymore, but they do happen. waking up feeling physically heavy, groggy, slow. the harsh lighting in the bathroom making him notice those extra soft bits on his body, where he used to be taught and lean. he looks down, where his tummy sticks out above the band of his boxers, sighs.

eyes back up, he brushes his teeth, gazes at his reflection, and acknowledges that this is a fleeting feeling - because nowadays he looks at himself and sees it. happiness and health and comfort in his settled life. he loves it. he's sturdy, strong, beefy. he's soft, holdable, grounding. he sees it, he knows, mickey reminds him.

he sees it, washes his toothbrush, wipes at his face, takes a final look. he knows, but it's just one of those days. he turns off the judgmental fluorescents and pads back into the bedroom towards his....

my god... there, face bathed in soft light and gorgeous, mickey. he's shifted in the ten or so minutes ian's been gone. sprawled out and entirely tangled in the comforter. left hand sticking out and clutching ian's pillow - like he was searching, wanting, grasping - coming up empty. he's awake now. ian moves, the floors creak, mickey's eyes zero in on him.

"do you know how fucking cold it is in this room?... why the fuck are you up this early?" and ian's quiet, suddenly realizing he came to a stop in front of their full length mirror. a glance at himself, back at mickey. maybe he doesn't have to be up yet, it's saturday. maybe he can spare lounging around a bit more. glance and back. he should get under there, mickey said he's cold. glance, back. he doesn't move, rooted in place. "...come back under here and get on me!" glance...

"babyface... c'mere"

he moves. mickey rolling away, untangling, giving him his space in bed back... immediately shifting back and attaching himself to him. "always leaving me here in the mornings... can't stick around for me? hmm?" the drama of it all making ian chuckle and press his lips to mickey's forehead. he feels mickey's hands wander around his chest and down to his belly, making him draw in a breath and stiffen. he sees mickey's eyes squint and his nose scrunch in the process. a small tut escaping his lips. here it comes.

"got myself a human heater... warm and soft. teddy bear mother fucker." and that's a new one! "you gotta stop leaving me here every morning. you're like one of them weighted blankets you're always going on about... hmmph... comfy." he nuzzles into ian's chest, wrapping tighter around him, and breathing so deeply. smiling. "smell so good... i think i get why you're always sniffin'." giving quick cute pecks along his collar bone. "so many freckles. all over. this one here is my favorite." he moves to the hollow of his neck. giving it a little lick.

and ian can't help but giggle really. because his husband is so in tune, because he always knows when something is up, because his licks are tickling him!

mickey pulls until he's securely pinned under ian. "my big guy. cover me just right" his hands begin their familiar dance. over ian's strong shoulders, down the muscles of his back, lightly scratching back up. "you threw me around so good last night. was fucking airborne at one point."

oh. these giggly kisses are some of ian's favorites!

"you gave it to me so good and hard, made me grab on to all of you, huh?" his hands are everywhere, covering ian's body with love. "so sexy. do you know how good you feel and look when you're overpowering me like that?" the complete contrast of his statement and his soft lips making ian all fuzzy and warm.

"so good. so soft. so strong. so hard." a mantra. each declaration punctuated with the sweetest kisses. his hands wandering, grabbing, pressing ian's weight down. soft little moans making an appearance.

and god if ian doesn't feel like he's floating! high, on a cloud. sustained by mickey's touches, his sounds, his scent. his words, his words, his words. breaking through and helping him see and remember what he already knows. because today is one of those days, yes, and it'll take more than this to claw his way fully out... but he's being uplifted and loved and touched in the right ways. in the ways that wiggle in and help chip at that wall and appears in times like these.

he sees his strong arms framing mickey's head, how his size and weight are making him feel. he knows he's good, he's healthy, he feels his heart pumping strong and full of love in his chest. it'll take more than this, but this helps. every part of this helping, chipping away.

he breathes, he kisses, mickey moans...

he sees, he knows, mickey reminds him...

[formulafanfics13]

hiii!! i love your fics so much!

could you write an oscar one with a best friend and she’s getting married to someone else but for whatever reason isn’t really happy in the relationship (which oscar can tell even if she’s never explicitly said) and at the wedding he objects which means it can’t continue that day and his objection turns into a long-winded confession thing

I Object - OP81

Masterlist

Summary: On your wedding day, just as you're about to marry the man everyone thinks is right for you, Oscar Piastri — your best friend — stands up to object. He confesses he’s been in love with you for years, that you're not truly happy, and that he can’t let you marry someone else. Overwhelmed, you walk away from the altar and kiss him in front of everyone.

Warnings: Angst, public confrontation, runaway bride trope, emotional confession, disrupted wedding. Romantic drama.

The church was beautiful. Golden, blooming, ridiculous. A cathedral of candlelight and fresh roses, drenched in silk and violin music. Every pew was full. Every breath hushed.

You stood at the altar, veil pinned delicately into place, eyes glossy and unfocused as the officiant read words you weren’t really hearing.

The man beside you smiled. Your fiancé. The one everyone said made sense. The one who ticked all the boxes. The one who wore the right shoes and said the right things and asked the right questions on cue. And yet, your hands were shaking.

Somewhere in the third row, Oscar Piastri was staring at you like the world was ending.

He’d been quiet all morning. Didn’t join the groomsmen photos. Didn’t toast at the rehearsal dinner the night before. Just floated on the edges like a ghost in a suit, watching everything like he was collecting evidence for a future crime scene.

Because he knew. Without you ever saying a word. He knew you weren’t happy.

Not in the way that mattered. Not in the way you were supposed to be when you were about to tie your life to someone else’s.

He knew the difference between content and in love. He knew what your laugh sounded like when it wasn’t filtered through politeness. He knew you loved yellow tulips and hated lace sleeves. And when you walked down the aisle in a dress that wasn’t you, to marry a man who wasn’t him, something inside him snapped.

The officiant kept reading.

“-if anyone here should object to this union-”

The words echoed. And then...

“I do.”

It cut through the cathedral like a blade.

Everyone turned. You froze. Your fiancé’s mouth dropped open. And there, standing in the aisle, voice louder than it had ever been, stood Oscar. Suit slightly wrinkled. Face flushed. Hands at his sides. And a fire in his eyes that didn’t flicker.

“I object,” he said again. Louder. “I-fuck-I object.”

Gasps. Someone dropped their program. The groom took a step forward. “Oscar, what the hell are you-”

“Because she’s not happy,” Oscar snapped. “Because she’s not fucking happy. And I don’t care if no one else sees it, I do. I have.”

Silence.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. He took a shaky breath, stepping closer. “She doesn’t love you. Not like that. Not enough to spend forever pretending. She’s scared. She wants something safe and simple and stable, and that’s what you gave her. But it’s not what she wants. Not really.”

Your chest was rising too fast.

“She laughs like she’s holding her breath when she’s with you,” he said, eyes locked to yours. “And she picked a wedding dress that she thought your mother would like. And I’ve watched her shrink down to fit a life that looks good in photos, but makes her eyes dimmer every fucking day.”

Your fiancé was speechless.

And Oscar? He just kept going. Like once it started, he couldn’t stop. “I know because I’ve known her my whole life,” he said. “I know her real laugh. I know she cries when she’s angry and hates slow walkers and eats M&Ms by colour. I know she’s scared of being difficult, so she goes quiet instead. I know she writes letters she never sends. I know she’s in love with love, but she’s never let herself actually feel it.”

Your knees were trembling.

“And I know I’m a fucking coward,” he said, chest heaving now. “Because I’ve been in love with her since we were seventeen and I never told her. Because I thought if I just stayed close enough, maybe it would be enough. Maybe being her best friend would be enough.”

Everyone was watching. No one moved. Even the goddamn priest was silent.

“I thought if I kept my mouth shut, she’d be happy,” he said. “But she’s not. And I can’t-fuck-I can’t watch her marry someone she doesn’t love just because it’s neat and it’s right and it’s what she thinks she deserves.”

He looked at you again. Full. Raw. Nothing left to hide. “I’m not the right guy. I don’t have the polished job or the rich family or the perfect timing. But I would worship you. I would never let you feel like you had to shrink yourself to be loved. I would tell you I loved you every single fucking day for the rest of your life, and I would mean it.”

Your bouquet hit the floor. You hadn’t realised you’d dropped it.

Oscar’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry I waited this long. But I won’t wait forever. Not if it means watching you spend your whole life pretending.”

He took a step back. “If you want to marry him, I’ll shut up. I’ll sit down and I’ll let it happen. But I had to try.”

Silence. Stillness. And then you moved. You stepped down from the altar, veil sliding from your hair. Your shoes clicking on marble. Your hands still trembling. Your fiancé didn’t stop you. He didn’t say a word.

You walked straight to Oscar. Your best friend. The boy who always looked at you like you were impossible.

You stared at him. Heart thudding. Tears spilling over. “Say it again,” you whispered.

He blinked. “What?”

“Say it again.”

He swallowed. “I love you.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him so hard it nearly knocked you both over. And somewhere behind you, the wedding guests burst into chaos.

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[half-shadowgalra]

Hot Take

(I have no clue if this is or isnt a hot take considering I have never seen this take been made before)

Bianca di Angelo would find her hot