#pick a treasure from my room

[sflow-er]

Tag game

Thank you so much for the tag @silvagrey 💜

No pressure tagging @bluedalahorse @scatteredpiecesofme @willedeservesbetter @palehottubchild and anyone else who feels like making their own poll! This is such a fun way of giving people a peek into our lives haha.

Thanks again for the tag, I really enjoyed making this!

[lizziestudieshistory]

I was tagged by @oneardentstudybuddy (thanks 🙂)

I'm tagging @dauen and @dooareyastudy - I'm not sure if you both have been tagged or want to be

[pyr0cue]

Btw moving to college does not feel like packing up and moving your whole life and is more akin to chopping yourself into bits and pieces, choosing nothing more than a handful of parts to fit into a tiny box, leaving the rest of yourself piled in a room that used to be yours, and hoping you still find yourself in what you left behind when you inevitably come home to it

[kavehater]

Jaw dropped what.

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!readers on hot ones

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this is based partially off of the new hot ones interview with the obx cast. just imagine drew and actress!reader are on opposite teams rather than drew being the question person lol. yall really seemed to like the last interview-fic i did so voila <3

“I’m already sweating.” Madison said, fanning herself as they filed into the studio. Lights and a white backdrop surrounded a table covered with wings, four chairs on each side. They’d already been briefed on how things were going to go, the eight of them divided into two teams and answering questions, their answers deciding whether or not they’d be subjected to one of the very hot wings laid out in front of them.

Drew came up behind y/n, pulling out her chair for her before heading to his own seat opposite her. She smiled at him, soothing her dress down as the rest of the cast sat down. Madelyn, Rudy, and Carlacia took seats on her team whereas Drew sat with Chase, Madison, and JD opposite them.

“You better not be expecting me to go easy on you, Starkey.” Y/n grinned, resting her chin in her hands as she looked at the man across from her, his eyes crinkling as a smile crept across his face.

“You better not be expecting me to go easy on you, my love.” Drew raised his eyebrows teasingly.

“Ok, are we ready?” One of the producers asked, to which the cast responded with excited (or perhaps anxious) cheers. The camera focused in on Chase, who reached and spun the bottle of hot sauce sitting in front of them, the ultimate decider of which team would go first. It spun for a moment before landing on Madelyn, her teammates erupting with hollers as Chases picked up one of the cards.

“Alright, Mr. Rudy,” Chase smiled cheekily. “Outer Banks has hooked viewers with its countless twists and turns, however, name one storyline you think should’ve never made it out of the writers room.”

Everyone let out some groans and giggles as Rudy began to lose himself in thought… and continued and continued to think.

“Is there a time limit on these?” JD quipped, causing Rudy to roll his eyes, stroking his chin in playful contemplation.

“This is off to a great start.” Y/n said, elbowing Rudy lightly.

“Ok, ok!” Rudy said. “I’d say… I wish they didn’t switch to the second treasure so fast. They should’ve stuck at the first treasure longer.”

“That sounds like an answer to me!” Carlacia clapped as the team opposite them picked up their wings with a groan. They each took a bite, chewing for a second before they all reached for the drinks in front of them.

“Shit.” Drew swore as he took a long sip of milk, his cheeks already beginning to flush a bright red.

“Don’t worry there’s more where that came from.” Y/n grinned as Drew shook his head. Y/n reached in front of her, grabbing another one of the question cards.

“Oh, JD,” Y/n read in a sing-song voice, “Outer Banks centers around a group of teenagers, but our cast ranges from 24 to 33 years old. Which of your costars is the least convincing teenager?”

The table erupted into “oohs” as JD surveyed his co-stars, a nervous grin on his face before his gaze landed on Chase.

“I think I have to say Mr Chase Stokes.” JD chuckled.

“Is it because of the beard?” Chase teased as y/n and her team picked up the wings in front of them. With a deep breath, y/n took a bite, her mouth immediately bursting with heat. With a groan, she reached for the ice water in front of her, hoping to soothe the fire in her throat as her eyes began to water.

“No more jokes, baby?” Drew asked as y/n fanned herself off with her hand. Y/n rolled her eyes, tossing the old question card at him. Drew picked the next card, his gaze locking onto the girl in front of him.

“Oh, perfect. Y/n,” Drew began, “part of Outer Banks’ charm is the chemistry between the cast. That being said, who here is the worst scene partner?”

“Oh no!” Y/n groaned, putting her face in her hands as the table broke out in gasps and laughter. She stole a glance at the second wing in front of her, royally coated in fiery hot sauce before thinking of an answer.

“Ok, ok! I’m going to answer, but,” y/n said with an anxious giggle, “you have to let me explain!”

Her co-stars leaned in, each of them with looks of anticipation covering their faces as y/n sat up straighter in her seat.

“My answer is…” y/n paused for dramatic affect, chewing at her bottom lip nervously, “Drew, but—”

Everyone erupted into shrieks and laughter, Drew’s jaw dropping at his girlfriend’s answer. Madelyn covered her mouth, locking eyes with Carlacia before they both turned to y/n.

“No, no, no! You have to let me explain!” Y/n reached across the table, grabbing Drew’s hand, his mouth still agape.

“This is going to be good.” Rudy chuckled.

“He’s not a bad scene partner, he is just so different from Rafe and always makes me laugh, so it takes us a million takes to get a scene done!” Y/n clarified, Drew’s shocked expression melting into a small smile.

“See, you’re just such a funny guy and I love you so much that it makes it hard to do scenes with you. It’s a compliment, really, baby.” Y/n finished with a quirk of her eyebrows, her costars swooning as the couple gazed at each other softly.

“Good save, good save.” JD teased as he and his team reached for another hot wing. The game continued for several more rounds, various questions, and, of course, lots of spicy wings, until they finally made it to the finale.

The table was moved out, their seats being arranged in a circle for a cutthroat game of musical chairs that would ultimately determine the winner of the game. Round after round, the numbers dwindled until one chair and two players remained: y/n and Drew.

“No mercy, y/n!” Madelyn shouted from the side as y/n and Drew rounded the chair slowly.

“C’mon Starkey boy!” Chase cheered. Y/n looked up for a moment, her eyes meeting with Drew’s as the music suddenly stopped. Before she knew it, Drew’s arms wrapped around her torso, lifting her off her feet with a shriek. He quickly sat down in the chair, pulling her down with him, and winning the game.

“Sorry baby,” Drew smirked, pressing a kiss to y/n’s cheek. Y/n groaned playfully, tossing her head back to rest on Drew’s shoulder as the two of them laughed in the chair.

“You’re lucky I love you, Starkey.” Y/n grinned, kissing Drew’s jaw.

“Do you? Do you really?” Drew teased, nuzzling his nose into the crook of y/n’s neck, causing her to squeal with laughter. In all her life, y/n would’ve never expected that she in all her competitive nature would be ok with losing a competition, but here she was, happy as ever.

[greengoblinswifey]

Redemption— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— you’re taken by Groff’s accomplices and you’re ex Rafe Cameron appears to save you unexpectedly. your past is full of pain but he’s determined to make things right.

warnings— ex to lovers, kidnapping, arguing, slight manipulation and coercion, oral(m&f receiving), fingering, choking, ass slapping, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Rafe hadn’t planned on being part of the treasure hunt again, but when he heard about the Groff connection and Sarah dragging you into it, he couldn’t stay away. It wasn’t about the money this time—though he wouldn’t say no to a cut or possibly stealing it for himself—it was about you. Despite everything, he still cared deeply, even if he didn’t show it the way you deserved.

Your relationship had ended months ago, crumbling under the weight of his issues and the way he treated your friends. You’d made it clear you didn’t want to see him again even during the trip. But when he found out you’d been kidnapped by Groff’s men, something inside him snapped. He couldn’t think straight until he had you back.

When he first showed up to give his help, your cold glare hit harder than any insult. “You shouldn’t be here, Rafe,” you’d said flatly, refusing to meet his eyes.

He tried to explain himself, but you cut him off. “I don’t trust you, not after everything. You treated my friends like garbage, and you don’t get to come in now and play the hero.”

“I’m not here to play the hero,” he’d said, voice low, almost pleading. “I’m here for you.”

But there was no time to dwell on old wounds. Chaos erupted, and by the time the dust settled, he’d saved you from Groff’s accomplices and now you were both hiding out in a grimy motel room.

“You didn’t have to come after me, Rafe,” you snapped, pacing the cramped space. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor. Especially not from someone who ditched us when we needed him.”

His jaw clenched as he leaned against the door. “You’re seriously saying that to me? You all left me to almost get arrested! Like I was nothing.”

“You were nothing when you couldn’t pick a side!” you fired back, glaring at him.

“I did pick a side,” he shot back, stepping closer, his voice dropping. “I picked you. That’s why I’m here.”

His words hung in the air, the weight of them undeniable. You scoffed, looking away, but your resolve wavered as he moved closer.

“You think I don’t care?” His tone softened, a crack in his armor. “You think I didn’t lose my mind when I heard they took you? I couldn’t—I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Your breath hitched, but you shook your head. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe’s hand caught your wrist gently, turning you to face him. His gaze burned, the anger and pain in his eyes mirrored in your own. “I’m here now,” he murmured. “Let me prove it.”

You didn’t have time to argue before his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was desperate, heated, and filled with all the unspoken emotions you’d both buried. Your fingers curled into his shirt as his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. The frustration and anger melted into something you couldn’t name, something that felt like it could destroy you both if you let it.

Rafe’s hands were everywhere, his lips trailing from your mouth to your neck with a desperation you hadn’t felt in months. You wanted to lose yourself in him, but the anger resurfaced, and you pushed him away, chest heaving.

“I can’t do this, Rafe. Not after how you’ve treated us—how you’ve treated me.”

His jaw clenched, but his voice was soft. “I got a ship for all of you. I stayed civil even after you tied me up. I’m here, trying to prove myself to you. I still want you. I can’t do this without you—I can’t be better without you.”

Your emotions threatened to spill over, but instead of crying or screaming, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. The kiss was fiery, tangled in resentment and longing, as his hands roamed your body again. His lips found your neck, and a moan escaped before you could stop it.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” you muttered, your voice shaky.

“Yeah?” His hand slid lower, brushing under the fabric of your outfit and finding your pussy. “Well, you’re wet for this piece of shit.” His voice was low, teasing, as his fingers found their way inside.

You gasped, torn between shame and pleasure. “You’re disgusting, Rafe. I can’t stand you.”

“And yet here you are, you’re a slut for liking this,” he whispered against your neck. “Hear how wet you are.”

The heat built unbearably, and you couldn’t stop yourself. As your body betrayed you, the orgasm was laced with mortification. You turned away, unable to meet his gaze, but he just smirked softly. “You can hate me all you want,” he said, his voice a murmur. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He slipped his fingers coated in your arousal in your mouth and your tongue swirled over them.

“Good girl,” he chuckled.

“You never know when to shut up, do you?” you snapped, rolling your eyes as Rafe smirked. His hands rested confidently on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I could say the same about you,” he quipped, his voice low and teasing. Before you could retort, he dropped to his knees, silencing you with his actions.

“Don’t,” you started, but the heat of his touch made your words falter.

“Stop pretending you don’t like it,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours, as he licked your pussy. Despite yourself, a soft moan escaped you.

“That’s what I thought,” he said smugly, and you could only glare as he gave a satisfied grin.

Rafe’s grip on your hips was firm, his strength keeping you in place despite your squirming. Your fingers tangled in his buzzed hair, tugging as whimpers slipped from your lips. His focus didn’t waver, and you felt yourself trembling under his relentless attention.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice breaking with a mix of defiance and surrender. But he didn’t stop until your entire body tensed, a soft moan escaping as you reached your peak. He looked up at you afterward, his expression smug and victorious.

Rafe leaned back, a smug grin on his face as he palmed his cock through his pants, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Look how hard you got me, baby,” he said, his voice low and confident. His hand moved slowly, emphasizing his words. “You used to always help me out with this, come on, suck daddy’s cock.”

The nickname made you wince, memories stirring. He saw the hesitation but leaned in closer, voice softer but insistent. “You know you want to,” he murmured, his gaze challenging, daring you to resist.

Rafe pulled his hard cock out, his size drawing a breathless reaction from you, it looked like he’d gotten bigger, if that was even possible. He chuckled, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Come on, baby. Help daddy out,” he coaxed, his tone a mix of command and temptation. Despite your resolve, you felt yourself falter, unable to resist the magnetic pull he always had on you.

Arching your back, your ass high in the air, you leaned down, taking him into your mouth. His groan was instant, his hand finding your waist before he smacked your ass. “That’s my good girl,” he muttered. You rolled your eyes and took him into your warm mouth, bobbing your head at the right pace to have him moaning. You used your hand to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth as his balls tightened and his breathing grew ragged. Just as he was about to release, you pulled away.

His laugh was one of disbelief. “You’re such a brat,” he muttered, shaking his head, though the amusement never left his eyes.

Rafe’s warm hands moved to your bare thighs, rubbing it slowly as he looked up at you with those blue eyes. He knew it was your weakness. You were already soaked but having him caress you like that practically turned you into a fountain. He had you right where he wanted you.

“My cock really misses that tight, wet pussy,” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

“Yeah? Well if you want to fuck me, you’re gonna have to beg,” you retorted.

Rafe let out a mocking chuckle, as if he couldn’t believe those words left your lips. His little baby wasn’t such a baby anymore.

“Seems like we’ve been apart for so long that you’ve forgotten, Rafe Cameron doesn’t fucking beg.”

He snaked his hand around your neck, pulling you into a heated, rough kiss. Your tongues slipped into each other’s mouth, the feeling one that made you melt. He pushed you onto the bed by your neck and took his position above you.

“You’ve also forgotten that this is my pussy and I saved you, I’ve fucking earned it,” he said, with that cocky smirk plastered on his face.

Everyone had their weakness, for Sarah it was John B, for Pope it was Cleo and for you— well, it was Rafe Cameron.

You spread your legs and he smirked, resisting to make a snarky comment as he dragged the head of his cock up and down your wet folds. He placed it on your clit, teasing you as you squirmed underneath him.

“Please,” you whimpered, wanting nothing more than to have him plunge his cock inside you,

“Look who’s begging now,” he said, darkly.

He lifted your legs around his waist and you locked them as he sank into your pussy. His hips bucked and his pace faltered as he had to slowly push in and wait for you to adjust to his size.

“So tight f’me, glad no one’s been inside this pussy since we broke up.”

You gave him a slight push on the chest but your attack was halted as he thrusted into you all the way. Your jaw fell slack as you gasped for air feeling him fill you to the brim.

“S’okay baby, just breathe, daddy’s here,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your lips.

He began rutting steadily inside you, whispering little praises that made your stomach flip. You wouldn’t admit it but a part of you missed having him above you like this. By now he had taken off his shirt, revealing the muscle underneath and the sweat glistening on his body. You ground against him, your clit getting the stimulation you desperately craved and sending pleasure through you.

“Oh God, daddy,” you moaned, meeting his thrusts faster.

“You gonna cum baby? That’s it, cum for me,” he murmured.

Rafe’s pace sped up, hitting the sweet spot inside you as your release hit you like a truck. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, your legs shaking as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

“Good girl, there she is,” he cooed, “I knew you wanted this too.”

“M-more,” you managed to croak out.

“Oh my baby wants more? You want daddy to fuck you even more? What a dirty little slut.”

He complied with your request, flipping you swiftly onto your stomach and pulling your hips up to him. You arched your back the way you knew he liked it and he kissed your ass before rubbing his cock along your folds.

“God baby, did I mention how much I missed this wet pussy?”

He slammed into you from behind, gripping your waist as he brought you back onto his cock, hard. Your ass clapped against him and he watched mesmerized as his cock disappeared inside you and came out covered in your cream and juices.

“Daddy,” you moaned, shamelessly as he rolled his hips into you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he had on that smug look and you gasped as he pressed your face into the pillow, pounding into you at a deeper angle.

“You really like that huh, fuck, your pussy is just gripping my cock so well baby, cum for daddy, cream all over my cock.”

He slapped your ass, basically giving you the go ahead as you shuddered under his touch, his name leaving your lips continuously as you creamed all over his cock. Unable to stop himself, he stilled inside you, his load spurting as he moaned your name and you felt his dick throb against your walls.

He rolled over, pulling out of you but not before spreading your ass to watch his cum drip out.

You stared up at the ceiling, wondering what you were doing with your life. You were in a random motel in Morocco and you hooked up with your ex after he saved you from kidnappers, meanwhile your friends were probably out looking for you, worried sick.

“Uh, we should go, they’re probably looking for me,” you sighed, getting up. He took a piece of cloth and wiped between your legs. Silence fell between you but oddly, it was a comfortable silence. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but care and sincerity. He really did come for you and was actually trying to change and do right by you all.

[floorpancakes]

i love clamp in a complex beautiful way but sometimes i see certain ships and its like that meme of the guy getting light blasted in his face being knocked back cause these girlies like their shit messy douwata are like that meme that's like oh thank god im the only normal one here but like actually

[gghostwriter]

Out of Sunshine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having forgotten your dinner date, Spencer comforts his usually sunshine girlfriend Trope:Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.2k a/n: been very overwhelmed with responsibilities and wants lately that I just needed to write a self-indulgent fic. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Spencer’s knock on your apartment door was met with silence. It was a starry Friday night and he had arranged a dinner reservation with you, his girlfriend for a year and a half, to the newly opened French restaurant along the main street. With a certain spring in his step, he settled with Hotch, and by extension the team, that he couldn’t be disturbed unless an emergency case comes in—something he silently wished not to happen. He had also picked up a bouquet of your favorites from the local florist. An array of whites that reminded him of the dress he first saw you wearing at the park.

He knocked again, ears straining to hear anything behind the dark wooden door. There was nothing. He balanced the bouquet on one hand and reached for the phone inside his satchel. It was quite unlike you to not answer the door.

The number you dialed is either unattended—

“Strange,” he muttered under his breath. During his morning phone call with you, a much needed routine to tide him through the macabre of his job, you sounded so excited about the dinner he’d planned and had even promised to wear the same white dress that had plagued his eidetic memory. He chuckled in reply before asking any plans for the day. There was a slight pause on your end, no doubt thinking of ways to pass time before night winds down, and you answer—

The studio, he remembered. You mentioned passing by your art studio to occupy time. He sighed in relief as he enters his vintage blue car parked on the the sidewalk, bouquet placed securely on the passenger seat. The clock on the dashboard tells him there’s still time to make it to the reservation, granted he wasn’t sure if you were ready to go.

A non-descriptive tune played from the radio as he turned left to enter the designated parking space of your studio building. It was a mixture of soft piano keys that sounded like spring and sunshine, both adjectives he loved to use to describe you.

When he finally found the courage to fumble his way in asking for your number, the smile that flashed on your face was blinding. It was as if he stared directly into the sun with little to no protection for his vision.

Over the course of multiple dates, he found himself waxing prose about you in his head. The pinking of your cheeks reminded him of strawberries ripening, so tempting to touch with his own pair of lips. The twinkle in your eyes, full of adoration and trust, made him feel strong and protective—like he was some kind of crow guarding his loot of sparkling treasure. And the bounce in your step wherever you’d go had him envisioning a sprig of wildflowers growing from each footprint, the nymph of his very own Spring.

He let himself in the studio, grateful you’ve trusted him with a spare key. “Sunshine,” he called out.

The light inside the four cornered room was on, windows all open for the paint fumes to escape, and there you were, hunched over an easel, furiously painting without any care of your surroundings.

He called your name, softer this time, as if to slowly ease you out of the artistic trance. The timber of his voice and his sudden presence led you to squeak in surprise, paintbrush dropping on the wooden streaked floor.

“It’s me, sunshine,” he raised his hands in front of him in surrender. “It’s me.”

Your nose scrunched up in question, a streak of blue dried paint on your cheek, adorable. How adorable you were in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you bent down to grab the brush before resuming your old position.

“It’s 7:50, love.”

You swiveled to face him, eyes wide in distress. Hands promptly reaching to turn over the faced down phone. “No, no—oh my god, I am so sorry!”

“It’s alright,” he tries to placate you but his words of comfort seem to fall on deaf ears. “Really, it’s alright. It happens to everyone.”

Tears were starting to build up in your eyes. Your hands were wrangling with the apron tied around your waist as you mutter a series of apologies again and again. “I’m sorry. So sorry—we can’t make it to our reservation now, can’t we? Spence, I’m so so sorry. I—I forgot,” a sob escaped from your throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

He puts down the flowers on the nearest available space, your stool, and steps into your space. Filling it with his perfume and warmth meant to comfort you. He could see how distressed you were—rocking on your heels, hands unable to stay put, and lower lip sandwiched in between your pearly teeth.

“Breathe. It’s completely fine, love. No harm done. Really, it’s alright.”

The tears come rushing down, staining your flushed cheeks with its tracks. “It’s not—how could I forget?”

“Sunshine, it’s okay. It happens to all of us and I know you’re quite busy, it’s understandable.”

You burrow into his chest some more, afraid of separating from him and the haven he brings.

He continued on. “I also know you’re overwhelmed, the exhibit is just around the corner and I know how important it is to you, I understand.”

Laying your cheek near his beating heart, you mutter a reply. “It’s really not—I don’t want you to think you’re not important to me too.”

His hands cupped your face to stare into your saddened eyes. Spencer couldn’t see the warmth and brightness that was always present in his sunshine. There was a cloud of rain and doubt covering its’ greatness. He understood no one could always be happy all the time but it bothered him to see you breaking down from stress.

“Shouldn’t I be the one worried about that?” he lightly joked. “I’ve cancelled on dates so many times and did those ever make you feel less important to me?”

“No. Never,” you sniffled.

“Then what makes you say I’d think that, sunshine? I would never, I promise.”

The corners of your lips lifted up to a small smile. There it was, the rays of sun peeking behind the clouds, bringing warmth back to the dark crevices of his being.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” your lower lip jutting out in a pout. The air of anxiety slowly dissipating around you.

Spencer laughed, noting the tear stained marks littered on his purple button down. “That’s alright. Why don’t we order from your favorite Indian place down the block? We can get your favorites and have our dinner date here instead?”

“You’d be okay with that?”

He leaned in to kiss your temples, taking in the twinkle back in your eyes framed by your wet long lashes and the flush on your cheeks from emotion—good and bad.

For Spencer, you had never looked more beautiful. The reason behind of your breakdown was raw, intimate, and it made him see you in a new light. Heat bloomed in his chest, like a series of red roses, filled with love for you.

“Anywhere with you is good for me, sunshine.”

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[orimuraa]

୭ ˚. I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it - OT7

(synopsis) ✩🎧⊹ stealing enhypen’s clothes ೀ

ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ✩🎧⊹ fluff, crack ✩🎧⊹ petnames, smooches ✩🎧⊹ wc 674

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

"baby have you seen my grey sweatshirt? i can't find...it-" heeseung stood there, staring at you with a blank look on his face. there you were, snuggled into the grey sweatshirt he was looking for. "alright you little thief! since you look so cute in it, i guess you can have it," heeseung playfully sighed, scooping you into his arms. "yay!" you cheered, hugging heeseung's neck and planting a chaste kiss to his lips. "you're lucky you're so darn cute."

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

since your boyfriend had stepped out of the room for a couple minutes, you decided to make haste and steal a warm sweater from jay's closet. when he came back, he immediately noticed the new sweater--that was 2x too big for you--you were wearing. "nice sweater," he smirked, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "thanks! i got it from my boyfriend," you winked, plopping down next to him. "finee, you can have it...but i expect it back by the end of the month!"

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

"hey princess have you seen my- jacket...OH MY GOODNESS YOU LOOK SO ADORABLE!!" you were fully expecting to be scolded by jake for stealing his stuff but you also expected this exact reaction. jake's cuteness aggression. "you're not upset i stole it?" you questioned, smiling at jake's excitement. "nope! i would let you have my whole wardrobe knowing how cute you are in my clothes!!" "thanks jakey," you laughed. maybe you would take up his offer.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

"hey doll? i've been looking for my black shirt, have you seen it?" sunghoon walked in to find you standing in the kitchen, wearing his "missing" shirt, and eating a piece of bread. "oh-" was all he said before whipping out his phone and snapping a quick picture of you. you were just too cute. "it suits me doesn't it?" you asked, your cheeks full of bread. "very much so doll. my clothes suit you very well," sunghoon chuckled. he then walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your shorter frame and placed a kiss to your neck. "so precious," he whispered.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

sunoo had went to go pick up some food, giving you a good amount of time to commit some robbery. you quickly carried yourself over to sunoo's closet, picking out a few sweatshirts and shirts to bring back to your room. however, you clearly underestimated how much time there was because as you were scurrying back to your room, you were caught. "sweets? why do you have 6 sweatshirts and 4 shirts in your arms? where are you going with those?" sunoo was catching on quick. "uhhh- laundry! yeah! i was uhh folding laundry!" you mentally applauded your swift excuse but clearly he wasn't fooled. "and that’s why you're wearing one too sweets?" he smirked. mission failure. (jk he let you have them all)

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

"jagi? i think i lost my hoodie but i wanted to ask if you've-" jungwon stopped in his tracks and slowly looked at you. you may or may not have stolen his hoodie and were wearing it right this minute..."ah, there it is..y'know what though? just keep it. you look adorable with it on," he smiled, his eyes practically turning into hearts just by the sight of you in his clothes. god he treasured you so much.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

"angel? i've lost my black hoodie and i was wondering if you've seen it?" ni-ki ran a hand through his hair while tapping his foot, trying to remember where he put it. "oh! this one?" you asked, tugging the material that you were wearing. you had barged into ni-ki's room and just grabbed the first item of clothing you saw, and then walked out with it on. "yeah...that one.." he mumbled, his cheeks turning slightly pink at how adorable you looked. "sorry, do you want it back?" you asked, already tugging it off. "no no no! wait! no! it's fine! i have tons of other ones! just keep it..it suits you..." he said, mumbling the last bit. only you knew that he actually only owned one black hoodie.

ughhhh this was so cute >.< i always love the prompt of stealing clothes from the s/o 🤭 hope you guys enjoyed! likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated! <3

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany

[thinkinonsense]

VELVET ELVIS ❤︎

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fluff! domesticity! soft!logan pregnancy

author's note: this was inspired by the kacey musgraves song! just wanted to write some fluff :)

masterlist

divider credit: @/roseraris

within these cabin walls, time stood still. logan liked his life and the time machine he's built himself. you and him live in a 60's dream home.

during the weekdays, logan went to work at the lumberyard while you stayed at home and worked on your paintings. when the two of you moved in together years ago, logan got you to agree to quit your job and prioritize your talents since he could do triple the amount of work for a normal man, money would never be an issue.

on saturday's, the two of you would go into town and you would bring your art pieces to a shop downtown for them to sell. whatever money you made, you put back towards the supplies you needed because logan covered everything else.

"well, don't 'cha look like a dream" logan compliments as he watches you get ready in the mirror.

"thank you, sugar." you smile as he leans down to kiss your temple then down to your cheek.

"prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen." he mutters against your skin. "is this new?"

both your eyes fall to the satin powder blue slip dress that adorned your frame. he loved how it looked with your pretty white mary jane boots and the small bump blooming underneath the soft material of your dress.

"yeah, picked it up earlier this week." you reply, removing the curlers in your hair and teasing the hair pieces up high.

"love it." logan says, nibbling at your earlobe.

"logan..." you giggle, lightly shoving him away. "go get dressed so we can leave."

"yes, ma'am."

reluctantly, logan gets up and grabs the nice outfit you put together for him earlier. a fresh pair of denim jeans, a white shirt, and his brown leather jacket. as an anniversary present one year, you got logan a silver star-shaped belt buckle that matched the necklace he got for your birthday when you two first met. in the mirror, you watched him put it on.

"whatcha thinkin' about over there, sweetheart?" he smirks, looking up to find your eyes.

"dippin' you in honey."

"dirty. i like it."

"not like that, perv." you giggle. "just wanna be stuck to you forever."

"that's sweet," he says, walking over, bending down, and gently grabbing your chin to kiss you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

once the two of you make it inside the tiny shop, logan brings in your painting while you greet the older ladies who own the building. all of them fawn over logan and your round tummy; telling you how lucky you are. something you never let yourself forget.

"you'll never believe what we picked up at the gala last weekend." one of the grey-haired women tells you.

"what did you two find?" you asked, always curious to their treasures.

"the hell kinda painting is this?" logan asks, looking sideways at one of the paintings on the wall.

the sight makes you laugh. no matter how long you two have been together, logan still struggles to see some of the beauty that you do in certain art pieces.

"i think the handsome lumberjack found it." the other lady winked as they guide you over to where logan stood. hanging upon the wall sat a velvet elvis painting.

"oh my!" you gasp.

ever since you were a little girl, you adored the painting that some would call 'tacky'.

"you like that, sweets?" he questions but you ignore it, stepping closer, running a finger along the golden frame.

"my grandma used to have one in her living room, it was her most prized possession –well, next to my grandpa."

behind you, logan could see the couple smiling to each other. too busy amazed by the painting to notice anything else around you.

“what a lucky find!” you marvel, turning around to face them.

“which is why we want you to have it.” one of them says while the other takes it down from the wall.

in shock, you shake your head insisting that you couldn’t allow them to give it away. they insist on you two taking it home, telling you to hang it somewhere nice. logan wasn’t exactly thrilled to have the painting in the home but he knew you adored it so he would never say a word out loud.

on the way home that night, you raved about the piece. logan loved hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about. he could listen to you explain color theory for hours. his own personal, prettier version of bob ross. when he brought in the painting, you told him exactly where you wanted to hang it in the living room.

“right there, baby.” you instruct him. “be careful.”

the man couldn’t be hurt if he tried but he found your warning cute. once it was hung up, you both step back to admire it. the art work did at least match the aesthetic of the house, logan could admit.

“i mean, its no mona lisa but i don’t mind it.” logan says, pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

“you know, i don’t really care for the mona lisa.” you admit with a shrug.

“really?”

“mhm, don’t like that everyone fawns over it. i want character, creativity, and something unique."

"hm.." he hums, swaying you gently.

"this painting reminds me of you." your voice meek and muffled against his shirt.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at you.

you nod. "i want something no one else has and something no one else will ever understand the way that i do. you're my favorite work of art, lo."

"i'm only a work of art because you carved and molded me with your beautiful mind." he says, trying to allow a tear to fall down his face.

logan couldn't believe the life he'd been gifted after all the shit he's dealt with in his lifetime. he didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve you. your kindness, your warmth, your talent, your body that carries the only other human he will ever love as much as you. he would never be able to repay you for this little life and slice of peace that you've gifted him.

[acid-ixx]

mild spoilers for chapter six for my series again &. again, but i really feel the need to ramble about this, and i'd love to hear anybody's opinion on this hehe.

as i write outline chapter six (and write for chapter five), i'd like to say i couldn't wait to write the reader's face reveal in bruce's perspective. and it's not just angst, for me, this plays a very pivotal turn for the series— because bruce will spiral to insanity.

to never once see a single portrait of your second youngest child, whose presence has long been erased from the manor, not a single image, nor trace of you is sickening to the heart, even if he scours through the internet day and night for a single memoir of you, nothing— but to find your portrait in alfred's living quarters and seeing you for the first time in forever? graduating a milestone no less?

god, he's in for a ride just analyzing every aspect of your physical appearance.

the color of your eyes, the shape of your nose, the quip of your mouth, the fat in your cheeks; even the length of your lashes! god, does he brand it into the deepest parts of his mind to never forget you anymore. his pearl, his treasure.

the longer he stares, the more he notices and gazes even more, obsessive as he stands lonesome in the room with every bone in his body locking up, his eyes unable to look away from the portrait that showcases his baby child.

and there, there it is that he concludes a detail so small it's unrecognizable for someone who's seen it for his entire life; yet it's all the same triggered deranged emotions deep within him.

— you don't just share him and your mother's traits, no, your smile is also reminiscent of his mother's.

martha wayne, who'd died in his arms, laying in a pool of her blood with a bullet grazed deep inside her body. his loving mother, who caressed his face whenever he'd cry from his nightmares, who'd shown him motherly love that until now he still craves.

she died with her pearl necklace that once decorated her porcelain neck spilling to the ground and stained with crimson.

you wore pearl earrings on your graduation.

the thought alone is enough for him to just snap.

this? this is the child that he's been neglecting far too long? who shares the same, loving expression of his mother's? his child? not even a single memory could be conjured with you but fantasies now do. if your happiest moments were within the picture frame that he holds with shivering fingers at present; could your smile be any wider if you'd be with him?

how come he never once noticed? why is bruce always destined to fail left and right? why, just why is he brimming with jealousy for all the people who must've seen your smile before him, and contempt for himself that he was never there to pick you up from the police station beforehand?

bruce isn't a heckler for favoritism, but a darker part of him is motivated to take you away from wherever you are, and to never let anybody else witness his beautiful, little treasure.

he's gotham's knight, first and foremost. but he's a father, too, with goals to protect his children just like a father should.

and the things he'd do for you, his child, now? anything.

if it means he has to see that smile, then he'll turn the world upside-down.

he has to protect your smile.

[syluslnd]

hihiii ive been a BIGGGGG fan of ur writing for SOO long - as always thank you for the food 🙏🏻🙏🏻 - can you write an imagine where sylus finds our that MC stills owns a plushie from like a highschool boyfriend ( like he stumbles upon it suddenly and asks- whats this? we didnt get it at the arcade") type beat~ grazie <33

sylus who can’t help but be a little jealous

Sylus leaned casually against the wall in your room, eyes scanning the familiar space with his usual air of nonchalance. But his gaze sharpened suddenly, catching sight of something that wasn’t part of his usual view—a small plushie sitting on your shelf, clearly worn with age, one he’d never seen before. His brow arched in curiosity as he picked it up, turning to you with a smirk.

“Oh? and here I thought I knew all your secrets” he teased, holding up the plushie with a challenging glint in his eyes. “Care to explain where this little guy came from?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you hesitated before mumbling, “It’s… it was a gift from a high school boyfriend.”

Sylus’s smirk widened, his red eyes glinting with amusement as he sauntered toward you, playfully pinning you back against the wall, one arm resting above your head. “A gift from a boyfriend, hmm?” he drawled, his tone both teasing and edged with a hint of possessiveness. “and you’ve kept it all this time. I didn’t know my sweet little kitten was so sentimental.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “So, how many other treasures from old flames do you have tucked away in here?” he teased, watching the way you squirmed under his gaze. But as he caught the faint hint of nostalgia in your expression, his smirk softened.

Running a finger over the plushie, he shook his head with a quiet chuckle. “You’re something else, you know that? It’s… cute. Keeping hold of something that meant something to you.” His voice softened, that playful glint now replaced by a warmth that was unmistakably Sylus. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Maybe I’ll have to make sure the next thing you’re sentimental about comes from me.”

[matchingbatbites]

Happy Valentine's, all. <3

Eddie doesn't want to be making this call. Literally the last thing he wants to be doing is making this specific phone call, but he'll be damned if he lets his asshole of a roommate get away with this.

After a moment the ringing stops, and a voice says "Hello?"

"Uh, hi, is this Steve?"

"It is, who is this?"

"It's Eddie, Jake's roommate? I got your number from him." Well, from his phone when he'd left it unattended one day, but Steve doesn't need to know the details. "I really, really hate to be making this call, especially the day before Valentine's, but uh. Jake is cheating on you."

The line is silent for a moment before he hears a weak "What?"

Eddie's eyes squeeze shut at the heartbreak he can hear in that single word. He hates that he's doing this, but knows it needs to be done, for Steve's sake.

"I got home from work not too long ago, and heard him with some girl in his room. I took a video, if you want proof, but I just- I thought you deserved to know."

There's a bit of shuffling on Steve's end, along with a soft sniffle. "I, uh. I don't need the video. I believe you. I'm not all that surprised, if I'm honest."

He huffs a laugh, the sound so self-deprecating that it makes Eddie's stomach twist in empathy. "Guess that makes me three-for-three on my long-term partners cheating. I'm starting to wonder what the fuck is wrong with me."

That last part is softer, like Steve was speaking to himself, but Eddie hears it and frowns, because- because Steve is lovely. He can tell that Steve is beautiful inside and out, always kind with just enough sass to make him so fun to be around.

He's always makes sure to talk to Eddie every time he comes over, even if it's just a simple greeting or goodbye, and whenever he cooks at their apartment - because he's a great cook - he always makes enough for Eddie to have some as well.

It feels wrong to hear Steve talk like this, like there's something about him that needs to be fixed. Like his previous partners were right to abuse his love and trust, instead of treating them like the treasures Eddie knows they are.

Before Eddie can speak out to reassure him, the man continues. "Thank you for telling me Eddie. Spending Valentine's alone is gonna suck, but I guess that's better than spending it with someone who doesn't care about me."

"Spend it with me."

Eddie isn't sure where the request comes from, but as soon as it leaves his mouth, it's all he wants.

Steve gives a soft "Huh?" and Eddie repeats it, "Spend it with me. A boy as pretty as you shouldn't be cooped up inside on a day like Valentine's. Let me take you out, try to salvage it for you at least a little."

Steve goes quiet, and for a solid ten seconds, Eddie is sure that he's about to be rejected.

And then Steve says "Jake was supposed to pick me up at 6:30 tomorrow. I'll come by yours at six instead, so I can break up with him before we leave. Is that okay?"

A sigh of relief, and Eddie slumps into the wall behind him. "Sounds perfect, Stevie. Wear something nice, but casual, okay?"

"I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie. And thanks again."

Jake comes across Eddie the next evening as he's packing the last of the food into a bag. He's spent the last hour or so getting it ready, making sure it's all perfect even though it's nothing too complicated.

A meat and cheese plate with some fancy crackers, a jar of the pickled asparagus he's recently become addicted to, a bowl of diced fruit and a box of fancy chocolates he'd splurged on.

He'd even dropped money on a bouquet of roses, and he already has a few comfy blankets and pillows packed into the back of the van. Everything perfect and ready to go. When Jake sees his preparations, he lets out a low whistle.

"Wow, Eddie. Trying to impress someone?"

Eddie shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Yep. It's our first date, so I want it to be special. Didn't wanna go the usual, boring, fancy restaurant route."

He's sure that's what Jake had planned for himself and Steve, and it's confirmed by the way his nose wrinkles. "There's nothing wrong with spending money on your date, Eddie. If you have the money to spend, that is."

Jesus Christ, Eddie can't wait to move out of this fucking place, and away from this fucking asswipe.

"Anyway, I've gotta go pick up Steve soon, and I'm planning on bringing him back here tonight, so maybe see if you can crash with your date, yeah?"

"Sure thing-" Eddie replies, though he's interrupted by the sound of a knock ringing through the apartment. He grins wide, knowing exactly who it is. "That must be my date. Can you grab that while I finish up here?"

Jake rolls his eyes but complies, and Eddie freezes in place, not daring to make a sound so he can hear whatever interaction is about to happen.

The door opens, and he hears Jake's confused "Steve? What are you doing here? I'm supposed to be-"

"Yeah, we're not doing anything anymore. Ever again, actually."

God, Steve sounds so bitchy, and Eddie fucking loves it. He grabs the bag of food and the bouquet of roses from the counter, glad that he got dressed beforehand, and makes his way to the entry.

"What are you saying, Steve?"

"I'm saying that we're over, Jake. Maybe you can call the girl you fucked last night and take her to dinner instead."

Eddie turns the corner in time to see Jake's stunned expression, clearly not expecting Steve to throw that at him. He takes a moment to bask in the fire burning behind hazel eyes, until they slide to him and that fire vanishes, replaced with something sparkling and delighted.

"Hi, Eddie," Steve says, his demeanor changing like the flip of a switch, and Eddie beams. He steps closer and offers the bouquet of roses, along with a "Happy Valentine's, Stevie."

The money Eddie spent on the flowers was worth it to see the blush that floods Steve's face as he reaches out to take them.

"Oh, thank you. That's really sweet of you."

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

Eddie and Steve both turn to look at a very petulant and confused Jake, and Steve just smiles. "Well, you just got dumped, and my Valentine is about to take me on a date."

It takes a moment, but something must finally click, because Jake's face goes red with rage. Eddie just grabs Steve's arm, guiding him out of the apartment before the man can actually do something.

"So what's the plan?" Steve asks as he takes Eddie's hand, lacing their fingers together as Eddie leads him to his van.

"Well, uh. The next town over still has a drive in theater, and they're showing some old romance movies tonight. The drive to get there is pretty nice, and we'll actually have some time to talk, and then- I have some blankets and pillows in the back of the van, and I brought food so we can do a picnic during the movies. I mean, if- if that sounds good to you."

Steve's eyes are sparkling again as Eddie rambles, and he squeezes their hands in delight. "That sounds perfect, Eds."

By the time Eddie gets home late that night, he's learned two things:

The first is that Steve had already been debating on breaking up with Jake before this whole fiasco, but the thing stopping him was that he actually likes being around Eddie, and he thought wanting to hang out with his ex-boyfriend's roommate would be too weird.

The second thing Eddie's learned is that Steve's smile tastes like dark chocolate and sunshine, and kissing him might just be Eddie's new favorite hobby.

(Eddie does eventually show the video to Steve, just to reassure him that he didn't break them up so Eddie could date him instead. The only comment Steve makes is "She's definitely faking, his dick game isn't that good.")

[satellite-evans]

you don't have to be sorry

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Harry learns why you refuse to let him pay, uncovering your painful past.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: past abusive relationship, little angst, fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Harry had always found joy in giving. Growing up, even when he didn’t have much, he’d learned that the look on someone’s face when you did something kind for them was worth more than anything money could buy. That lesson had carried over into his adult life, especially once his career took off and his world expanded in ways he’d never anticipated. He loved surprising his family with impromptu vacations, treating his friends to dinners just because, and going the extra mile to make everyone around him feel cared for.

When he met you, he found himself wanting to do those little things even more. Your smile was infectious, your laugh a melody he didn’t know he’d been missing until you came along. You were so strong, so independent, and it only made him more drawn to you, your kindness, and your spirit. From early on, he’d noticed that you carried yourself with an ease that spoke of someone who’d learned to take care of themselves, and he admired it. You were thoughtful, always prepared, and fiercely capable of handling things on your own.

Still, that didn’t stop Harry from wanting to treat you. From the beginning, he’d try to pick up the tab here and there, take you out for meals he knew you’d love, or surprise you with little things—your favorite flowers, a new book he thought you might enjoy. But each time he tried, you’d flash that polite, unwavering smile and insist on paying your own way. It wasn’t just a gesture, either. It was firm, unyielding, and Harry quickly learned that it was one boundary you weren’t willing to compromise.

He brushed it off at first, thinking maybe it was just the way you were. And in a way, he appreciated your independence. He knew you’d never take advantage of his generosity, and that was part of what made him feel so strongly for you. But as time went on, he couldn’t help but notice the subtle ways you’d tense up when he offered to pay, how your expression would harden slightly when he’d suggest covering the check. It was almost as if his offers triggered something in you, something you seemed determined to hide but couldn’t fully suppress.

And so, he kept quiet, telling himself not to pry, to respect your independence. Yet, as the months went on, he found that it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It wasn’t that he wanted to be the one to pay, necessarily—it was that he wanted to feel like he could express his love without it feeling like a violation. He wanted you to feel comfortable enough to let him in, to let him care for you in a way that didn’t make you feel trapped.

One evening in late autumn, he planned a special dinner. The two of you had been talking about going to this small bistro on the outskirts of town for a while. It was an intimate spot with candle-lit tables and soft jazz playing in the background, and Harry knew you’d love it. The idea of spending a quiet, meaningful night there with you had stayed on his mind for weeks.

The evening was perfect. The glow from the restaurant’s lanterns bathed the room in a warm, amber light, casting a soft radiance on your face that made you look even more beautiful than usual. Your laughter floated through the air as you both shared stories and exchanged glances, and Harry felt the gentle comfort of being in your presence, something he’d come to treasure more than he’d ever thought possible.

When the bill finally arrived, he reached for it out of habit, ready to do what he’d long hoped to: treat you to something special, just because he wanted to. But, as always, you beat him to it, your card already in hand, that same polite but unwavering determination in your eyes.

“Please, love,” he murmured, placing a hand gently over yours before you could hand the card to the waiter. “Let me take care of this one, alright?”

Your smile faltered just for a second, and he saw a flicker of something in your eyes—something that didn’t quite match the confident independence you usually displayed. It was a look of hesitation, one that seemed out of place for you, and Harry couldn’t ignore it any longer. The moment was brief, gone as quickly as it came, but it was enough to stir his concern.

As the two of you walked out of the restaurant, Harry held your hand, feeling the cool night breeze brush against your skin as you strolled down the quiet, lamp-lit street. His mind was still on that moment at the table, the look in your eyes that hinted at something more, something you’d been keeping from him.

He stopped walking, gently pulling you to a halt beside him, his fingers still laced with yours as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and filled with a quiet concern.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, his voice low, careful. “I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but… why don’t you ever let me pay? I know you’re independent, and I love that about you. But… it feels like there’s something more to it. Like you’re keeping something from me.”

You met his gaze for a moment, but quickly looked away, shifting under the weight of his words. He could see a hint of tension in your shoulders, the way your hand tightened slightly around his, as if you were bracing yourself against an invisible force.

“It’s… it’s not about you, Harry,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you know that. This is just… it’s something I’ve had to do for myself.”

He nodded, encouraging you to continue without saying a word. He could see you struggling to find the right words, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on you, as if the memories you carried were too painful to release.

“My last relationship was… it was complicated,” you finally said, your voice wavering slightly. “My ex… he was controlling. It wasn’t like this—it wasn’t done out of kindness, or love. It was… it was about power.”

Harry felt his heart sink as he watched you, his own feelings of helplessness swelling inside him as he realized just how deeply those past experiences had affected you. His fingers tightened around yours, as if to ground you, to remind you that he was there, listening.

“He… wouldn’t let me pay for anything either,” you continued, your gaze distant as if you were looking back at a memory you’d tried to bury. “He wouldn’t let me work. He’d tell me it was because he wanted to take care of me, but it was… it was more than that. He made sure I depended on him for everything. And whenever I used his money, he’d remind me that I wouldn’t have anything without him.”

You swallowed hard, the pain in your eyes raw, the vulnerability in your expression stark against the mask of strength you usually wore.

“It was like… like every time I let him pay, he took a piece of me with it. I felt like I was losing myself, one little piece at a time.”

Harry felt a swell of emotions surge through him, a mix of anger, sorrow, and helplessness. He hated the thought of you going through that, hated the idea that someone had taken advantage of your trust, had tried to mold you into something you weren’t. The thought of someone treating you that way filled him with a protective instinct he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Oh, love,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he reached up, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you went through that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

The warmth of his hand against your cheek was grounding, soothing, a reminder of the safety you felt with him—a safety that was new, unfamiliar, and terrifying in its own way. You looked up at him, feeling the walls you’d carefully built around yourself begin to crumble, the armor you’d worn to protect yourself falling away under the gentle strength of his gaze.

“I didn’t want to feel that way again,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath. “When I finally left, I promised myself I’d be independent, that I’d never let anyone have that kind of power over me again. I didn’t want to feel… trapped.”

Harry listened, his heart breaking for the pain you’d carried alone for so long. He wanted nothing more than to reach into those memories and erase every moment of hurt, to go back and shield you from the scars that man had left behind. But he knew he couldn’t change the past. All he could do was be here, fully and completely, for you now.

He pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm, protective embrace, as if his presence could somehow shelter you from every painful memory, every scar that still lingered. You felt yourself relax in his hold, the tension in your body melting away as you allowed yourself to simply be, to feel safe, without fear.

He held you for what felt like an eternity, his hand gently rubbing your back in slow, comforting circles. Finally, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders, his gaze filled with a tenderness that took your breath away.

" I'm sorry." You said in a whisper, almost unhearable to him. Almost.

“ Oh lovie. I’m here for you,” he said softly, his voice a gentle promise. “You don’t have to carry this alone. You don't have to be sorry. I’ll never make you feel that way, I promise. You’re safe with me.”

The sincerity in his words touched something deep within you, and for the first time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could let go of the past. You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders as you allowed yourself to lean into his warmth, to trust in the quiet strength of his presence.

“Thank you, Harry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of gratitude and relief. “I don’t think you know how much this means to me.”

He smiled, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as you continued your walk down the quiet street. The world around you felt different somehow, softer, brighter, as if the warmth of his love had transformed the cold night into something beautiful.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Harry glanced at you with a playful grin. “You know, I was thinking… if you keep insisting on paying for everything, I might just have to start charging you a fee for dating me.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh really? And what would that fee be?”

“Let’s see… one home-cooked dinner a month, plus unlimited cuddle time, and maybe a few spontaneous trips to the ice cream shop,” he replied, feigning seriousness with a cheeky smile.

“Sounds like a bargain, but you might want to raise your rates. I’m a high-maintenance girlfriend,” you shot back, a playful glint in your eye.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “High-maintenance? lovie, I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pressure.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll throw in a free consultation on how to keep your wallet healthy. You know, just in case you want to save up for our future yacht,” you teased, your tone light.

“Ah, yes! The yacht. I’ll need a solid financial plan for that one,” he said, nodding dramatically. “Maybe we should just start a joint account: ‘Harry and Y/N’s Fund for Epic Adventures.’”

“Only if I get to choose the adventures,” you countered with a grin.

“Deal! Just promise me one thing,” he said, suddenly serious.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Promise you’ll never stop being you—independent, sassy, and always ready to take the lead when it comes to dinner bills,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

You laughed, feeling your heart swell. “Oh, I won’t! But fair warning: you’ll always be my favourite plus-one, even if you are a bit of a freeloader.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Freeloader? I’ll have you know, I bring a lot to this relationship—like charm, good looks, and the occasional serenade!”

“Okay, you’ve got a point there,” you conceded, shaking your head with a laugh. “But just wait until I hit the jackpot. You won’t know what hit you when I start treating you!”

With laughter and lightness in the air, you both continued your walk, the future feeling bright and filled with promise, all while playfully nudging each other along the way.

[satanghulu]

under a trance!

✦ PAIRING: mammon x reader ✦ SUMMARY: mammon goes under anesthesia. shenanigans ensues. ✦ WC: 0.7K

| MASTERLIST

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“Yer’ so cute.”

The sight in front of you could only be described as endearing. It was cute, unbearably so. The ditzy look on Mammon’s face and his dopey smile makes you want to pinch his cheek, but you refrain from doing so to maintain some form of dignity.

“Thanks?” You answer, shifting his current position to sit upright, prompting him against the wall as he flops around like a boneless pack of goo. You stifled a laugh. Lucifer had assigned you to pick up Mammon from the dentist, which you had initially assumed was for a regular dental checkup. Though looking at the state of the demon in front of you, he definitely had undergone some kind of procedure. 

“Who are you?” Mammon threw his arms over you as he leaned into your chest to take in a deep inhale, “You smell so good.” He mumbles with his cheeks squashed against you. His half-lidded eyes were hazy and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving him a quick pat on the head.

“I’m your human.” You said simply. His face scrunches up into an adorable frown as he pulls back to pout at you. The sound of the door opening sends Mammon scuttling back with a groan, knocking his head against the wall. Thankfully, demons are hardier than they look, and after a quick checkover, you twisted to see who had entered the room.

“Ah, you’re here to pick Mammon up right?” A person? demon clad in all white, presumbly the dentist, questions you. He peers past you to look at the patient, who is hissing at him and taking a defensive stance. It was pretty amusing to see a full-grown man curl in on himself to exhibit behaviour similar to the cats that Satan feeds.

You nod.

“Great. He just took out his wisdom teeth and is now under anesthesia. The effects should wear off pretty quickly.” The dentist starts, tapping on his clipboard before handing you a stack of instructions. He then continues to overwhelm you with a long list of aftercare steps that you have already forgotten. Noticing you were distracted, Mammon had taken his chance to cling onto you again, nudging your hand to find its place on the top of his head. You take it as a cue to start petting him.

It was kinda sweet how little inhibitions the Avatar of Greed had when he was medicated. It makes your stomach do a flip whenever he directs you a dorky grin. It almost makes you wish that he could be more forthcoming but his brand of tsundere was what appealed to you to fall head over heels in the first place.

Somehow, the admission that demons had wisdom teeth came to you as a surprise and the thought of it was pretty funny. Briefly, you wonder if the other brothers had already gone through this process.

From your position on the bed beside Mammon, you idly continue your action of stroking his head while he mumbles gibberish into your chest. And you’re pretty sure he’s also slobbering on you if the wet patches on the front of your shirt were any indication. (And of course, you jumped at the chance to take multiple photos and videos and had already backed it up.)

“Mammon.” You tried to admonish him. He lifts his head dazedly at the sound of your voice, and you can’t help but change your tone to coo at him. It was so adorable to watch him preen under your attention. It was a rare sight to see him like this and you were going to exploit every opportunity you could. 

You kiss the top of his head.

“No… I have my treasure…” His voice had shifted to a sleepier tone even as his arms tightened around you. But seriously, he has you in his arms and he’s still thinking about Goldie? You were slightly offended at the thought.

“Ya smell like them… My treasure. Treasure!” Mammon roared, suddenly biting the corner of your shoulder hard. A flash of pain jolted through you at his unexpected movement.

“What the-- Ouch!” You quickly swatted him with the back of his hand, glancing down at your shoulder to see the damage sustained. A clear impression of the bite mark was imprinted right on the edge, though thankfully, it wasn’t as deep as it had felt.

You pull back to look at him disapprovingly.

“Treasure!” He slurs happily with a dumb look. This time, you kind of wanted to punch him.

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a/n ▸ dorky mammon has my heart. also i know I'm terribly late for his birthday whoops

[festering-obsession]

NSFW Veilguard Headcanons

CW/Tags: 18+, smut, reader is rook but no name is mentioned, gender neutral pronouns, afab genitalia, implied age gap, tiny spoiler (?)

Emmrich Volkarin

- Emmrich will forever treasure the fact you chose him. Especially after the line, "You're my first, well, anything..." He can't help but get excited to show you all he has to offer. Emmrich is experienced, in contrast, but he has never had a partner who wanted to stay with him long-term. He also never had a partner who had desired him as much as you do, which he gladly reciprocates to.

- Emmrich is a romantic man at heart. He plans to wine and dine you before pulling you out of those nice clothes you wore for the date! He agrees you looked amazing in that outfit, but the hungrier part in him wants to see you writhing underneath him. But, if he sees you with his buttoned up shirt loosely around you when the two of you wake up, he can feel the stir in him once again. How could he not? He near worships every part of you, and you chose him. He can't wait to strip you of that shirt again.

- He loves to give, but he won't deny receiving. He loves the sounds that fall out your mouth as you become undone around his tongue and fingers. Even better, he loves to finally sheathe himself deep in you, wet and ready. Your warm walls feel as if he can lose all composure.

- He also loves it when you cockwarm him. Your warm, naked body on his lap. Your bare back meeting the coolness of his jewelry and embellishments on his vest as he slowly traces a thumb over your clit as you bounce up and down for relief. His other hand a book or perhaps he's looking over a lesson plan for whenever he's back to being a professor teaching. It's safe to say nothing really gets done. More of a challenge for himself to see how long he can resist you before he bends you over his desk.

- He's entranced with your body. He's well versed in anatomy, and he loves using you to help test his knowledge. Emmrich maps you out, knowing where you like to be kissed, touched, caressed. He loves hearing the sounds you make as he moves from your neck down to your navel. He loves the sounds made from when he enters you. Your little moans fill his ears as the lewd sounds of his cock driving into your walls fill the room.

Lucanis Dellamorte

- It takes him a while to fully trust you and his own desires, but when he does, he's nothing short of obsessed from your cunt. He loves eating you out, tasting your juices, lapping it all up excitedly like a starved man. What's more is you can feel his stubble tickle between your thighs, soaking that too with how long he'll still buried deep in between your legs. It won't be long before your legs are sore from being parted so long. And are those hickies covering all over your thighs?

- Something to think about with Lucanis... Primal play. He can pick up people's scent, especially thanks to Spite. Imagine convincing him to indulge you on the idea. Your in Arlathan forest (an area that you cleared of blight and it's darkspawn), and he gives you the headstart. But, no matter where you run to and hide, Lucanis will find you with ease. It thrills Spite even more so. What he would do if Lucanis would just let him take over, he'd help find you so much faster!

- But the skilled crow manages to find you, but he can't deny the thrill he gets when he finally spots you, in a bush with your head poking out as you try to see if he was close. Mierda, it makes him want you so bad. When you finally see him approaching you fast and you began to run, he can feel Spite holding onto more control of him, the wings sprouting out as he jumps over fallen logs and crumbled Elven debris to finally get you. He grabs you, knocking you down, and you're pinned against the ground. And... you can feel how pent up he got from the chase, and you can't deny how much you want to rush back to the Lighthouse to relieve that.

- He's also a romantic man. He's the type to have rose petals thrown about in your room, vanilla scented candles glowing, and a bottle of wine on hand ready for the two of you. He'll take you anyway you like, but his favorites are the ones where he can see your eyes as they roll back. He's also a sucker for the mating press, where he can reach the deepest parts of you to make you moan and squirm uncontrollably. Only he gets the privilege to see you like this. And maybe Spite. But he also loves taking you from behind, where he can lean down and kiss on your neck... which you might have to hide for tomorrow's mission.

Davrin

- Nibble on his ears during sex if you have enough reach! It'll make him lose control for a second, a sweet sweet groan coming out. But, you might have to deal with the consequences after. That being him pressing you down as you get covered in kisses.. and probably hickies. Might as well give him some back. His armor will cover it, but he won't deny how warm his face will get if someone sneaks a peak of them.

- Casual dominance with Davrin... He can easily pick you up and grab you by the hips if an enemy thought it had the upper hand, protecting you easily with a slash of his sword. Or, throwing you over his shoulder to take you to his bed. Or, when he has you under him, thrusting in and out of you, and his hand presses down on the light outline he can see. His big hands gripping the sides of your hips, steadying yourself when you no longer can.

- Practice sparring with Davrin, no magic or weapons, just hand to hand combat... which most of the time ends two ways. You're somehow able to knock him down, pinning him to the ground, straddling over his hips. There's something about you asserting your own dominance over him that makes him want you right then and there. Or, he pins you to the wall, thigh between your legs leaving you with no chance of escape. There's something about how you look up at him. The leader of the Veilguard under his mercy. It doesn't take long before you start grinding down on his muscular thigh, eliciting needy sounds from yourself and him.

- Wall sex with him. He definitely has the strength for it. Either he's holding you up against the wall, your arms draped over his shoulders as he thrusts into you, your warm walls sucking him in. Or, you're against the wall. Your fingers outstretched as your palms face the cold wall, desperate to ground yourself as you can feel the desperation in his pace to claim you as his as much as he can.

- He prefers being able to take his time with you, but sometimes the adrenaline left over from killing a horde of darkspawn gets his blood pumping. The way his valiant leader looks up and controls the flow of battle with ease makes him desire you in a way so carnal that he needs you alone with him immediately. Of course, he's good at hiding it (and thankfully his armor hides any bulge), but as soon as he gets you to himself, you'll be seeing how needy he gets. Davrin's lips locking with yours as his armor clatters to the ground.