#is this time travel or just the boys thinking?

[ghost-proofbaby]

I love the idea of Eddie having an especially grueling day at work his friend (they have mutual feelings but nothing has been said) offers to give him a massage. Eddie is genuinely grateful but also vv flustered by the end!!

listen. LISTEN. i know this got out of hand. i know i said these were going to stay short n sweet. i know what i said and promised. but. listen. you can't hand me a prompt that is just so delicious, with so much potential to sprinkle in a light dusting of angst, and to give me the chance to garnish with a beautiful open ending full of promise, and not expect a monster of a product to come from it. you just can't. i'm sorry. i hope you enjoy this, regardless. even if it's not quite bite-sized.

warnings: seemingly unrequited love that turns into clearly idiots in love. eddie gets shirtless. that's all.

wc: 4.4k+ yikes

It had started off as an innocent, well-intentioned offer. You swear it did. 

When Eddie had called you right after pulling a double at the garage, begging to come over and simply relax at your apartment, you’d set up to allow him to do just that. You’d cleaned up a little bit, lit a candle that normally gave you a headache if it burned too long but that Eddie loved, prepped a selection of movies for him to choose from, pulled out the menu for your favorite take-out – you’d gone the whole nine yards for your best friend. 

Someone might even point out it wasn’t just best friend behavior at this point. Steve and Robin alike had certainly called out your behavior at times, coining it as “girlfriend behavior on a best friend salary”.

You didn’t care. You were well aware of what you were doing, and you didn’t care. 

You’d spend the rest of your life on the best friend salary, as the two dinguses had so lovingly called it, for the look of sheer peace on Eddie’s face right now. 

He’s leaning back on the opposite end of your couch from you, knees spread and chin facing the ceiling as he sighs in bliss. Take-out containers are scattered about the coffee table, and his movie of choice of Return of the Jedi is about halfway over on your TV. 

You both had already chosen a second movie – The Lost Boys. The plans for the night were set in stone.

You tuck both knees up beneath your chin, side-glancing your best friend for a second and ignoring the flutter of your chest as you watch him sink deeper into the cushions, “We can talk about it, y’know.” 

“Hm?” 

“Your day,” you adjust a bit, turning your body to face him fully, “If you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears. We’ve already seen enough Jabba the Hutt to last a lifetime.”

That earns a smile from him, slowly crackling over his cheeks as he rolls his head towards you, “I dunno. Is there such thing as enough Jabba the Hutt?” 

You toss a piece of your sour watermelon candy at him, and despite it landing on his shirt, he still grabs it to pop it into his mouth. 

You try not to think too hard about how that shirt had been sitting in your drawers, clean and neatly folded, occupying space as if that might be normal. As if everyone has some of their best friend’s clothes at their apartment that they can change into after a long day at work. 

As if everyone has occasionally used said shirt as pajamas on nights they particularly miss the scent of their best friend’s cologne.

“Shut up,” you finally snicker, dropping your knees from your chin, sitting criss-cross now, “We don’t have to talk about your day if you don’t feel like it. By all means, if you wanna keep drooling over an alien slug, be my guest-”

At your teasing, Eddie moves quickly to grab one of your ankles, pulling your feet towards his lap before you can register what he’s doing. You gasp a little, and it’s definitely not because of the feeling of his warm palms wrapped around your bare skin. Totally not at the rush of warmth that travels up your body, head to toe, when you feel his rings pressing into you so eagerly. 

Absolutely not. You gasp, because anybody would gasp in this scenario. Because you’re just best friends. And best friends do stuff like that. 

“I am not drooling over a slug,” he chastises, grinning recklessly as he wiggles his fingers menacingly, mere inches from the bottom of your foot, “Take it back, or pay the price, baby.” 

Has he ever called you baby before? 

Certainly not, if your roaring heart has anything to say about it. 

“Don’t you dare,” you squeal – genuinely squeal – as you try and tug your legs out of his grasp. It’s a useless effort; he’s too strong, even after his long day, and your body isn’t even sure if it approves of taking his hands off of you. “Edward Munson, I swear to God-” 

It’s a mess of flailing limbs, painful laughter, and high-pitched screams from there. Squeaks from your own mouth, and a few from Eddie, mocking you all in good fun as he continues to persist for you to take it back. For just a moment, it feels like this is the normal – you’re living in a space where Eddie comes home from every day, grueling or effortless, to you. Where the two of you always end up on the couch together, bodies touching in any way they can. Where there’s always background noise on the TV as his focus is solely on you, smiling foolishly at his antics that were really just a simple effort to hear your laughter. Where your laughter is the only thing he really wants to hear at the end of the night, and it’s the greatest thing he’s ever heard. 

A world where he tells you as much. 

A world where after this, he’s reaching the knob of your shared bedroom door rather than the front door of your lonesome apartment. 

A world where you aren’t existing on a best friend salary.

“Had enough yet, sweetheart?” he quips, just as breathless as you are from the struggle. This time, the nickname he uses is normal. It took you off guard during the first few months of friendship, but now? Your weary heart could handle it, cherish it even, and not let your stupid little crush get in the way of appreciating it. “All you have to say are the magic words.” 

“Are the magic words, you’re a dickhead?”

“Hm,” he pretends to ponder thoughtfully for just a second before shaking his hand, “‘Fraid not. Try again?” 

Instead of verbally replying, you give him a gentle kick in the stomach. Not the magic words he had in mind, but they sure do the trick. 

He lets out a soft oomph, one arm cradling his midsection as though you actually hurt him. You take it as your cue to remove your legs – his dramatics quickly come to a halt to prevent just that.

It’s probably meant to be subtle, the way both his arms fall down over your calves and keep your feet in his lap, but it has the capability to implode your entire world. 

“I can’t believe you’re being mean to me after the day I’ve had,” he whines, and all you can focus on is the way his thumb is rhythmically stroking the ball of your ankle now, “Me, your best friend, has had the most awful day and you-”

“Now you wanna talk about it?” you laugh a little, rolling your eyes at him.

“Absolutely.” 

“After you’ve just tortured me?” 

“Well, yeah. When else would I talk about it?” 

“I’m rescinding my offer to listen,” you continue to joke, making one more good faith offer to slip your legs from his lap. And, once more, he won’t allow it. 

He whines out a long, drawn out no, starting to lay his entire body across your legs this time. More direct, more to the point. Subtleties have been forgotten, you suppose. 

You don’t know if it’s more for you, or for him. You just know you like it. You like existing within a sneak preview of a girlfriend salary.

“You never answered me, drama queen,” you murmur as the joking lean across your legs becomes a bit more heavy, and Eddie is more genuinely collapsing his figure into your lap. He doesn’t even have to ask, or gesture – your fingers find home within his hair, and you can feel his hum of content against your thigh as you scratch along his scalp, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

All joking pretenses slip away from him as he mumbles out a muffled, “Not really.”

And you can work with that. You swear, you can. 

If you’d been so ready to lend a listening ear, then you can offer him this peace and quiet. A simple head massage as he leans into you, cheeks pressed to the top of your thigh as you think he returns to watching Return of the Jedi. 

His eyes might be closed, if his heavy breaths are anything to go off of. You’re just not sure. 

You just keep up your massage, sluggish strokes, clement scratches, deep breaths to match his own- 

And then, an idea hits you.

“Eds,” you whisper, your hand in his hair traveling to his shoulders, shaking him a bit, “Eddie.”

Only a grunt in response.

“Eddie, seriously, get up,��� you stress, overeager, “I have an idea.”

“The apartment better be on fire,” he grumbles as he finally raises his head, face imprinted with the lines of your shorts in rolling hills of soft indents. 

Definitely was sleeping. Definitely wasn’t watching Star Wars. 

But even with his shoulders wrapped with dreary slumber, you’re still excited about your idea, motioning him to sit up fully. You let him take his time, of course, only after he swats your hands away sluggishly a few times. 

Once his back is straight, you lift one finger in the air, and draw a circle – motioning for him to turn his back to you without saying a word. 

His eyes narrow to slits at you, “Are you about to pull a prank on me? Because-”

“I’m not,” you assure him, reaching for his shoulders, nearly turning him yourself, “Scout’s honor.” 

He listens to you. Despite it all, despite his seeming mistrust, he turns his back to you. More specifically, he turns his shoulders to you. 

He’s still mumbling on about how you better not make his day worse, getting a little bit snappier when you gather his hair up to lay out of your way and claiming his scalp was extra sensitive today.

You pay his attitude no mind. He’s just grumpy. It doesn’t particularly phase you after years of close friendship.

“Listen, I know you like braiding my hair, but-” he continues with his protests as you grin behind him, shaking your head as you settle yourself closer to him. Knees bumping his hips, back straight for the time being. “I’d rather just nap right now. And I was really comfy, and really getting my rocks off to that damn alien slug-” 

All his words cut off when you finally put your plan into action. Your palms fall atop his shoulders, fingers curling around the tense skin, and he’s melting before you’ve even begun. 

“I- Oh,” he jumps a little at the first squeeze, but quickly returns to being pliant in your hold, “Oh… That’s…. That’s nice.” 

You continue your massage, gently squeezing, thumbs and fingers digging into any knots you find to work them away as you jeer, “Is it now?”

He nods, the smallest of movements as to not interrupt your work, “It is. ‘S real nice.” 

His head rolls with each pinch of your fingers, posture loosening as he leans back into your touch further. 

You take it a step further, biting back nerves when you slip your hands beneath the collar of his old t-shirt. You feel the shiver begin before it races down his spine at the press of your skin directly on his now. 

Your warm hands work dutifully, determined to bring as much relaxation to your best friend as possible. Definitely not enjoying yourself a bit too much at his smooth skin under your palms. Definitely not enjoying yourself just as much as he is. Certainly not. 

The shirt constricts you, though. Prevents your hands from traveling fully over sore spots you can feel the edges of. Catching your wrists, limiting the full potential of your movements. 

You’re glad he can’t see you as you suddenly request, “Take your shirt off.” 

“Hm?” he can’t form a proper word at first, not startled but simply sunken too deep in his relaxation, “What was that?” 

“I need your shirt off, Munson.” 

You try to sound brave, nonchalant, as you repeat yourself. You don’t want him to hear the fluttering of your heart – you don’t want him to hear the shake of your hands as you remove them from him.

You only want him to hear the totally reasonable request from a friend, who is simply trying to offer the best massage possible to their best friend who’s had a bad day. 

“Oh?” he looks over his shoulder, and you can see the edges of his raised brows through messy bangs, “Damn, sweetheart. If you wanted me naked, you just had to ask.” 

Can ribs break from a heart beating too fast? Is that even possible? 

“I did ask,” your voice is flat as a trade off to avoid any quivering to filtrate it, lips pressing tightly together as you swallow your heart, “So get to it.”

He leans forward, putting a bit of distance between you two before he reaches back to grab the center of his shirt. The fabric comes off with a flourish, and all you’re left face to face with is the bare expanse of his back.

You silently beg him not to look back over his shoulder, if only for just a second. 

You’ve seen Eddie shirtless plenty of times. At pool parties with the entire group, on rare lake days that always ended sun drunk and giddy, that one time he’d answered his door right after a quick shower and you’d seen a lot more than you’d bargained for. He was your friend. After a while, it would have been weirder to not have seen Eddie shirtless at least once. 

Something about this time feels different. 

He has freckles – not nearly as much as Steve or Robin, but they still exist. Small markings across skin glowing warmly in the dim light of your living room lamp, spattered without rhyme or reason. One on the back of his left shoulder, another slightly off-centered at the base of his neck. He has a light scar towards the bottom of his right shoulder blade – a memory from his childhood he told you once when you’d first seen it at the lake. Everyone else was out splashing about the ten-degrees-too-cool water, and he’d joined your side on the shore. Laid on his stomach as you laid on your back, offering you conversation in the form of stories about every blemish across his skin. The intentional tattoos, the unintentional scars. Everything. 

Even that day doesn’t quite compare to the intimacy of him being here now, being shirtless in your apartment, just the two of you. 

Maybe there was something extra in your coffee this morning, making you feel so delusional. 

“I don’t have any lotion or oils,” you finally clear your throat, trying to joke about as the two of you had been before, “But that doesn’t matter. You ready for the best damn massage of your life, Munson?” 

“Yes, please,” he groans, and something deep in your stomach clenches at the sound, “Want me to lay down or something?” 

Your brain short-circuits for a second, because you know where that leads. 

If he lays down, there’s only one way to continue to comfortably give him the massage. If he lays down, you’re about to bite off more than you could chew on a best friend salary. 

“Sure,” you choke out, damning yourself in the process. 

It’s all robotic mechanics as you two shift to assume the position; you stand up, and he sprawls out. And you swear, in the process, you catch a smothering of pink slow creeping across his chest and neck. 

“Can I…” you start to question, finally growing a bit shy as you stare down at the dip of his lower back. Two dimples on either side of his spine, looking so inviting and yet daunting. 

He finishes the sentence for you, saving you the embarrassment, “Sit on me? Yeah, go for it, babe.” 

There it is again. An unfamiliar nickname that falls so effortlessly off the lips for him. Another pet name to send you into a tailspin as your breath catches and your heart races, as though needing to catch up after the fleeting endearment.

“Thanks,” you whisper out. 

You’re starting to regret all your choices, but it’s too late to back down now. You just want to help him relax – that’s all this is. 

Stop making this more than it is. 

You’re exceptionally careful as you crawl over Eddie, placing a knee on either side of him, hovering for just a second as you take deep breaths to hype yourself up to do the inevitable. 

He twists a bit, startling you enough for you to balance yourself with a palm on each shoulder blade, “C’mon now, you’re not going to crush me. You should know this by now,” his eyes glitter, and you know he’s referring to that time you two made a bet he couldn’t carry you bridal style while drunk. He could, “Sit your pretty ass down and get to work, Masseuse.” 

You weren’t imagining the pink across his chest and neck. It’s climbed up now, tendrils tickling his cheeks. The bridge of his nose nearly looks sunburnt from this angle. 

It’s a good look on him. 

“Masseuse?” you snort as you shove him to be fully laying down once more, needing to get his eyes off of you for just a second, “That’s an awfully big word. You been reading without me or something? Becoming a secret genius?” 

Fall back into the normal flow of things. Try not to think about the heat of him between your legs as you sit half your weight down. 

“That is not a big word,” he chides. 

“Spell it, then.” 

“I-” he cuts off as your hands smooth back over his skin, no more restrictions. 

He never finishes his sentence, never complies with your request. All that falls from his lips are soft sighs as you begin the massage again. 

There’s an occasional twitch below his muscles as you knead away, slowly but surely becoming more comfortable with it all. Becoming more mesmerized as you can now see his skin moving with you, occasionally letting up when you skirt past freckles and scars alike, fingertips merely tracing them as he shivers under your delicate touch. 

You do exactly as you set out to do – you relax him. And then some.

You’ve never really gotten into the art of massages, something about it always feeling a bit too intimate. You’d never consider yourself a professional at it by any means – if anything, you’ve been on the receiving end rather than the giving end more often than not. And even those occurrences were rare. 

But when it came to Eddie, it seemingly came naturally. 

Not all of your movements are conventional. You pass back and forth between the usual squeezes of skin you’ve witnessed on TV and from others, and gentle tracing of your fingertips. Drawing shapes, painting pictures that vanish without ever having existed in the first place. Words, sentences, secret messages for just you two. 

When you trace out the endearment of idiot, Eddie seems to catch on, lazy grin peeking up past his curtain of hair covering the cheek almost facing you. 

In another place, where you make that coveted girlfriend salary, you’d trace out three little words on the tip of your tongue. 

You almost do it, too. It’s when you trace out idiot, in fact. You start, entirely subconsciously, with the i. A long pause, a space between words. 

And then you trace an l. One long line down the center of his spine. 

Your finger is already rotating for the o, ready to trace it in the center as the other two letters had been, a signalling it wasn’t a part of that last simple line. 

And then you divert. And you rush to finish out with the i, the o, the t. He laughs a little, the rush of air felt below you as he lets it out soundlessly, and you catch sight of his smile.

A seeming endearment to Eddie, a hidden scolding for yourself. 

Maybe one day you can find the nerve to properly trace it out – or better yet, say it. Speak your truth outloud and handle whatever consequences come from it. Because you do – you really, really do mean it – and those feelings for Eddie can’t seem to change. Something carved into your very soul, unchanging as the years pass. If anything, the carving only digs deeper into you with each month you spend with him. 

One day. But not today, not when Eddie’s had a bad day. It should be a good day when you say it, lessening the blow of rejection, hopefully. 

You almost lose your balance a few times. Each time having to adjust your position of sitting on him, shifting his hips right along with yours. And each time, you notice the catch in his sighs. The way they almost transform into moans, tense noises that seemingly tear from his throat, only dampened by poor attempts to conceal them. Even the back of his neck has grown flushed now, the tips of his ears vibrant when you see them poke through his hair. 

Sometimes, you lose your balance from his shifting, even. 

The air is sticky with tension as you finally finish up. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been an hour – you weren’t keeping score, more focused on continuing on until Eddie’s entire body has gone boneless beneath you. 

Pretty, and pink, and pliant. Entirely slackened beneath your touches. 

It takes more to encourage yourself to climb off of him than it did to climb on originally. Your body protests entirely, knees not caring for the ache forming, inner thighs happy to be bracketing his hips. But you do it. Because you’re just a friend, a best friend, helping your friend relax. 

You stand, towering over him, looking down to find him hiding his face just a bit. “Well?” 

“Well, what?” his voice is entirely muffled by his mouthful of couch cushion, and you furrow your brows. 

“How was it?” 

He lifts his face strategically. He probably hopes you don’t notice, but you do, “Oh! Oh, it was, uh- It was fucking great, sweetheart. I… I swear, your hands are fucking magic.” 

Why is he tripping over his words like that? 

He can’t even look you in the eyes, line of sight darting anywhere but you.

Why is he flushed, head to toe? 

“Yeah?” you cross your arms, and subtly lean to block the TV now displaying credits that Eddie found terribly interesting, “Would you consider it the best massage you’ve ever had?” 

He nods, and you catch the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows before squeaking out, “Oh, yeah! The absolute best I’ve ever had,” his eyes widen at his words, as if he’s made a terrible choice that you’re unaware of, “I mean, you know, I just- you should really consider becoming an actual masseuse.”

That’s when it hits you; Eddie is absolutely refusing to sit up. To remove his hips from your couch. 

He’s blushing, and he’s stuttering, and he’s definitely hiding something. 

There’s a twist in your gut that you can’t reveal. A satisfaction you know better than to celebrate right now. 

Instead, you decide to play with him just a little bit more. 

“Good,” you nod, stepping towards the end of the couch you’d originally occupied. Where Eddie’s knees are stiff against. “Maybe I will consider a career change. But for now – move, Munson. I’m just exhausted.” 

“What?” he looks at you, frightened, only moving his neck to keep his hips flush and hidden away. 

“Get your legs out of my seat,” you laugh a little, leveling him with a daring stare. 

You know what he’s hiding. You’re a bit proud of it, too. 

“Oh, yeah,” he says slowly, and you can see him going over his options in his head. A million excuses he’s probably conjuring, a hundred different escape plans he’s grasping at. “Yeah, of course.” 

And, just as you’d suspected, he doesn’t go with a single one to save his dignity. 

He moves quickly. Tucking his legs up and twisting himself into an upright position in the blink of an eye, and immediately grabbing one of your throw pillows that two of you had tossed off into the floor amidst the original movie night plans. 

He’s fast, you’ll give him that. But not fast enough for you to not catch sight of the tent in his pants. 

You don’t let your eyes linger too long. Swallow down any drooling threatening to begin. Tamper down any desire flaring in your chest and between your hips. 

Best friend salary, you remind yourself even as you grin a tad bit too salaciously for your current cover. Best friend salary, not girlfriend salary. 

You plop down on the seat still warm from Eddie’s legs, sinking back in self-satisfaction. Maybe you had been wrong. Maybe it doesn’t have to be another time, or place, or Universe to get what you want. Maybe all your delusion, that wild imagination of yours, wasn’t so misplaced after all. 

Best friend salary, your mind whispers. For now.

Eddie makes himself comfortable right along with you, still seeming in a much better condition than when he’d first arrived, even if his cheeks had bloomed into a rose garden. He presses that throw pillow of yours protectively over his crotch, and once more focuses on the screen in front of you two. 

“Say, Eddie,” you drawl, almost radiant with your grin. A fire now lit inside both of you. “Think you could be a doll and pop in the next movie for me?” 

It’s a little evil, you’ll admit. But he kind of deserves it for underpaying you over the years, when it’s so clear you’re due for a promotion. Sometime soon, you hope. 

Both your heads turn to each other at the same time, wildly different speeds. Eddie’s neck snaps in disbelief, while you take your time to make eye contact.

All it takes is one knowing look exchanged, and the illusion fumbles on its stilts. 

“I…” his embarrassment, all that flush, slowly morphs as he catches the truth behind your intentions. The hand pressing down on the throw pillow alleviates just a bit, stiff shoulders relaxing as they should have been after your massage as he reflects back just as evil of a glint in his eyes as you had, “Sure thing, baby.”

It’s probably going to be a long night. Surely, the promotion of best friend to girlfriend is going to involve some paperwork. Or an interview, to prove your capability and experience first hand, of course.

But, well, he never did put his shirt back on, did he?

[kwoniele]

his (favorite) cheerleader

synopsis: cheerleading practice seems to affect seungcheol a lot more than you expected.

genre: smut

pairing: seungcheol x cheerleader!reader

wc: 737

warnings: rough sex! clearly i have a kink.. creampie, unprotected sex (please do NOT do this! use protection always) overprotective cheol, praise, scratching 😝, BABE THIS ISNT PROOFREAD ☺️ none of my works are tbh. i think thats all? please lmk if there are more!

authors note: hiii im baackkk!! this was supposed to be a celebratory fic for from behind but unfortunately i got quite occupied with my assignments (ack?) and didn’t get to ginish but u can read this as a standalone haha also my requests are open! please request SOMETHING im in need of ideas.. ok bye enjoy

nervous.

thats how you made seungcheol feel.

honestly, he would have never felt this way if he had stopped you from wearing the skimpy skirt for cheerleading practice. you asked him permission before choosing to wear it for the day because one: you would hate to make him feel like you’re dressing like a slut for everyone to see and two: the girls in your crew are bringing their boyfriends.

you would never admit it, but the girls in your squad have terrible taste for men. all of them are either desperate for a quick fuck with anyone but their girlfriends, or theyre in denial and swear to like women but seem to enjoy having drinks with your boyfriend instead.

but seungcheol didn’t hold you back. he swore it was okay and that you looked amazing in the skirt. he explained that he was going to be right beside you the entire time and that things were going to be alright. because he was there.

he was concerned that the boys would be very much eyeing you for a minute too long, or your name would be the name they’d be chanting for the entire game rather than their girlfriend’s.

he was wrong.

he was the person he was worried about.

the way the skirt almost barely covered your ass, the way your hair stuck to your forehead sticky with sweat, how your chest heaved whenever you finished a routine; he felt like he was going absolutely insane.

regardless of the fact he promised you he’d behave, he wasn’t doing a good job of fulfilling it. he could feel his cock slowly growing in his pants and he was not trying to hide it.

“seungcheol-ah, if you’re in need of relief, we’d really appreciate it if you could do it somewhere else and not on the freshly cleaned bleachers.” irene’s boyfriend lightly elbowed seungcheol,

cheol shot him a glare before his eyes slowly rested on you again. you were hot. if male ovulation was a thing, cheol was the epitome of it. all he heard was ringing and inaudible chatter as his attention was focused on you. his eyes were in the shape of hearts as he watched you perform.

he couldn't wait to go home. he just knew what he’d do to you as soon as you step foot into your house.

—

“haa~ cheol!” if he had asked you to count how many times you’ve come tonight, you wouldn’t be able to answer him. your cum had made a creamy white ring around his cock, slowly growing thicker and thicker as his thrusts began to pick up rhythm faster than the one before.

your voice began to strain, sweat started to trickle down the back of your neck, your hips were burning red as seungcheol showed no mercy at all. it was as if his dick had a mind of its own. his tip kisses your g-spot, making you arch from the bed as cheol’s hand pushed you down.

“you were so fucking pretty out there. did you know that? i was worried the boys would be a fucking idiot around you— fuck.” he threw his head back in a moan. “but it turns out, i was the one going insane.”

his lips traveled to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses beside the bruises he had made earlier. his thumb rubbed your clit, causing you to whine controllably as your gripped onto his shoulders. “pleaaase, let me cum!”

“yeah? my baby wants to cum?” seungcheol rapidly thrusted into you—if that was even possible—even more, making you slip out incoherent words as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“yes! yes! yes! please let me cum please!” your nails clawed his back, leaving dark red marks as he winces in pain.

“fuck, cum with me okay?” you nodded in agreement, not caring about the neighbours who were probably wide awake, or the open windows that seungcheol didn’t bother to shut, or your cheerleading outfit that you definitely needed the following day.

“you can cum, beautiful.” he painted your walls with white ribbons as you breathed heavily—cumming right after him. you came so hard that you saw stars. as soon as you finally caught your breath, seungcheol was already rubbing you with a warm cloth, cleaning up his mess.

“you’re so responsible, you know?”

“mhm, i am. just not when you’re at cheerleading practice.” you giggle.

“you should come more often.”

[iamhereforfunnzies]

Chapter 1: I see you

Bruce overlooking his paperwork and plans of capturing crimminals and crime rates, he felt his stomach grumble. Seeing the grandfather clock tick a 11:15 p.m. he smiled “Just in time for Lunch.” He felt a bit sad knowing he is eating alone today, Dick being Bludhaven, Jason never really visiting, Tim out somewhere with Conner, and Damian out doing voluntary work in a animal shelter. What a lonely time to be in the manor.

    Scratch   

              Heavy breathing was on the otherside of the door he saw you , (Name) how different you were usually … out? But it’s better than eating alone and it would be nice to converse with you , he called you but why do you look at him like that. You arm is bleeding from your intensive scratching , eyes forcing itself not to cry what happened? Why do you look like you died?  “(Name), what are you doing?” you turn to him. “OH- um… Just anxious that’s all” Bruce narrowed his eyes as you look down slowing down on the scratching. “About what?” He sat next to you ,why is he so tall?!

              “Just…I had a nightmare.” GREAT (NAME) (MIDDLENAME) WAYNE , he’s gonna think you’re a huge incompetent baby. Nice going , idiot your mind screams at you. Bruce blinks he feels so amused , how adorable he just wants to pinch your cheeks and coax you to sleep. He chuckled lightly “What happened in your nightmare?” he can’t believe he is having a normal parent to child conversation.  Honestly, your not sure if you can tell him , since it wasn’t a dream you died and then you just time travel back 2 weeks before your death. “ I was walking back to the manor after work.” Bruce hid his shock as you mentioned having a job. “There was a man …” your head throbbed as you try to see your memory clear. “He touched , choke, then…No, No it was choke , someone else touched me, then  a gun was shoved in my mouth.” Your head throbbed harder as your heart was trying to break out your ribs. “Something happened , c’mon remember” you hit your stupid head trying to make your death clear as you start mumbling curse words.

                Bruce stood still not knowing how to respond , he held your hands. “Don’t . Stop. Just don’t think about it.” He was comforting you , now that he had a good look at you. When did you get so tall? Weren’t you just a seedling a month ago? (Name) when did you get your nails done? Why are your eyes so tired? Weren’t you trailing Dick and Tim to play with you? When did your hair changed? Alfred eyes widen as he see’s Bruce hugging you with what looks like a panic attack.  “Lunch is here”

What is wrong with you? Why the hell did you cry infront of him! Never once did Bruce took the time with you. He always seemed so occupied with his little only boys squad doing who know’s what! It’s so weird they are always fighting at the gym with Dick , Tim , and Damian (Rarely Jason), they are so secretive that you just stopped asking questions. Pacing in your quaint room with all this awards from last place to gold , you stare at them how much you lost and won over the years. Yet, you held every lost with pride because you tried well that’s what Alfred tells you.

              A sudden text came in your phone as you see your manager asking you if your free in 2 weeks in Tuesday. You stared at your phone , you died at Tuesday. A normal Tuesday nothing special about the date but you died. You died, you left the message seen.  Staring at yourself in the mirror you said to the mirror. “Am I doing enough to worth living?” Years , hours , days and seconds of awards in your room but not one moment of them stood out. All of this rewards weren’t for you , they were for them.

                             You look at the photo stand of your family I the gala, you were always the one who they claim to protect you but they never tell you anything . Laughing among their little group never explaining to you or care to want you to join in. Even in movie nights it feels like your watching them instead of the movie. Game nights were just you being some extra player they never needed. You grimace as you hid the photo frame of your table. Your childhood was dedicated to appease their eyes , your life to make interesting so they can be interested in your welbecoming but you died. Dead with nothing to remember.

                            A robin in a tree chirping in the trees as the gotham sky in a rare moment glows gold  like heavens gate, the sun shinning, the air crisp and fresh . The robin turns it’s head to you tilting it’s head but flies away with the other birds in the sky. “Fucking heavens , God if this a sign I am not gonna take this second chance for granted.” You muster a trembling smile. “I am gonna lived.” You took your phone.

(Name), are you free the week after this at Tuesday 8:00 a.m.?

Today 12:05 p.m.

                                                                                                                        

   I quit. Thank you for the experience.

                                                                                                                                    Today 12:15 p.m.

I genuinely hope this is readable

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Red Mercedes

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: Perfect married life sometimes hides the rotten truth of lies.

Warnings: cheating, slight manipulation, George getting what’s his at all cost, curse words and smut implication

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: After a frustrating week of not having any good ideas, I had a dream, so I finally had something to pour my heart into. It was so intense that it didn't let me eat my lunch, how fast my fingers drummed at the keyboard and my thoughts flew out of my brain. Enjoy it! :) wanted to include my favorite pregnancy trope, but i decided to not go that way this time

———

“Dad, I’m trying to tell you that mum is acting weird.” Your twelve year old son was travelling with George to Cayman Island for this event he was invited to, to speak about his ongoing career path as a leading F1 champion. 

George glanced at him, his hands gripping the steering wheel, regally upset about the fact that even your son noticed that something isn't right with your marriage.

“Mum is just tired. That’s all.” he tried to brush it off, but he knew. 

“You know, dad, I’m not stupid. I saw her with some man a week ago, sitting at the restaurant when we were out on a bike with boys. She was smiling at him like… Well, not like she’s smiling at you.” his son continued to ponder with his thoughts, pouring his mind out, making George feel uneasy. Pulling over at the hotel they were supposed to stay at, engine off, he turned his body to face his son.

“Buddy, I know that you love your mom, hell, who could not love her.. But she’s- it’s just a phase. I’m gonna figure it out, and you have nothing to worry about.” he tried to reassure him with his soft smile, his eyes betraying him, reflecting the weight of the growing lies.

———

“I see that you’re here with your son, he grew so much throughout the years, aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna be after you soon, you know, with racing and stuff?” 

George chuckled, moving his gaze at his giggling son in the first row, his sweaty palm wrapped around the microphone. “Well, there is the possibility, but his hobbies are different. He’s much more of a cyclist, so I think that Tadej Pogacar should be scared of having another rival.” 

“Oh, that’s great! Guess the Russell’s family is spreading through the field of sports. It’s a shame that your wife isn’t here with us, we had planned to have a family photo shoot for you, also spending some time on the yacht with the staff here.” 

George was professional at keeping his composure, so he just chuckled again, looking at the crowd of people in the small room.

“We can do that anyway, we don’t need my wife for that. She’s busy with some of her other projects, so…” 

Everybody seemed to be happy about it, not noticing the slight frown on George’s face and his son’s.

You were staying at home in Monaco, texting with your lover. Your naive brain was living in an illusion that nobody knows, you sneaking around with someone else, secret meetings at the old restaurant on the other side of the town, your red luxurious Mercedes parked in front of it very often. You were really dumb in some aspects and being so careless about getting after your own desires, you hurt your family in the process.

All those years of your marriage you heard it around you all the time, how George is a gentleman, kind guy, loving and caring husband and father, how every other woman would die for having him just for at least five minutes. But nobody saw that toll that had an impact on you, your life when you fell pregnant unexpectedly, and how George married you just because of it. Feeding you with all those empty promises, but leaving you alone through all that maternity shit because he was at the peak of his career while you were breastfeeding his restless son at night.

Yeah, there were times you were genuinely happy as a family, somewhere between the three to ten years of your son, George was more present, you accompanied him at races from time to time, depending on how his and your parents were willing to look after your kid. 

But the last two years felt like a nightmare, because George won another two championships after five years of no luck, his fans being literally everywhere, even breaking into your home. You spent a lot of time on the go, changing your location and you grew tired of this. Intimity between you and George was long gone, and you yearned for something he couldn’t give you, the tension, secrecy and passion. Even if it meant to destroy everything you have.

———

Darkness overtook the docks in Monaco, rain washing away the summer heat wave. George stood at the huge ass window of your penthouse, sipping on his whiskey, even though he did not favour the liquid that much, he got used to it from time to time. Your son was away for the holiday cycling camp, and with summer break in F1, it left him home alone with the lingering scent of your expensive perfume you saved for your not so secret lover. His mind wandered over divorce, but he was too prideful to let it happen. He didn’t care about your needs, shameful desires, he wanted to keep his family together. Even if it meant to ruin your sweet secret life. And he knew his plan was working the minute you stepped into your home through the threshold, sobbing quietly, with your dress soaked through, droplets of water dripping down your hair. His lips curling into smirk, he took the last sip of his drink, leaving the glass on the coffee table in the living room, walking slowly to the hallway.

You kicked off your heels, running your hands through your wet hair, wiping off your tears along the way, your mascara staining your cheeks. Feeling how your dress is sticking to your body, you let out a frustrated sigh with a whine, finally noticing George standing in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest wearing an unreadable expression.

“What’s the matter baby?” his tone was laced with smugness, he couldn’t hold it back anymore, seeing the mess you were.

“Nothing.” you muttered, trying to walk around him to get to the bathroom, but he was after you.

“You’re clearly distressed. Tell me what happened. You were supposed to have a night out with girls, if I remember correctly?” yeah, he was playing dumb.

“I was. But my car left me in the parking lot, because the smoke started to go out of the engine and I needed to call the towing service and-” you stopped in your rant abruptly as you got to the part you wanted to erase from your memory and you didn’t want to talk about it with George.

“And? Tell me darling.” his tone was firm, demanding, he caged your body against the counter in the bathroom.

You looked up to see his face, locking your gaze with his, reading his mind. He knew. And yet he was still there.

“He left me.” with your head slumped down you whispered feeling deeply ashamed. 

George smiled victoriously as the memory from earlier this week flashed through his mind, him paying that pathetic lover of yours loads of money to leave you, to ruin you, to destroy you.

“Oh baby.” he cooed sweetly, cupping that mascara stained cheeks of yours, listening to your sobs. And that was the last straw and you broke down in tears, all of the suppressed emotions flowing out as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, remorse and guilt building in your heart. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” you whispered into his chest, your tears staining his shirt. 

“Shhh… I’m right here baby. It’s okay.” his fingers brushed through your hair affectionately, making you relax.

“You should be disgusted with me…” 

“Believe me, I was at first. But from your point of view I somehow understood it.” 

“How… How long have you known?”

“Since the first time you giggled at your phone.”

“I thought that I’m good at hiding it.” 

“Oh, you were so naive that I won’t notice. You weren’t even creative at hiding your car properly. That exclusive red shade of it doesn't go unnoticed. Even our son saw you many times.” 

You shuddered when you felt his lips ghosting against your temple. The mention of your son stabbed you through your heart. 

“George, I-” 

“Shhh, darling. Your stupid boyfriend ditched you, so let your husband, the man who truly knows how to devour you, take care of you.” George whispered with a soft hum, his lips pressed under your ear.

The way he talked made you feel ashamed. But it ignited something within you, the lust and desire for him. And it made you curse internally at how dumb you were for the past years.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember who you belong to.” 

After the night to remember when George really took you like a slut you were, listening to your whines and moans, making you tell him how that lover made you feel, what he did to you, he made sure that you won’t escape his embrace again. Watching you sleep beside him, your body covered in love bruises and marks he hasn’t seen on you for months, he brushed the strand of your hair from your face, smiling proudly at how easy you were. All those years he thought you’re this soft and reserved girl who likes vanilla in bed, only to find out that you loved to be cock drunk all the time, overstimulated to the madness to keep your mind from wandering outside of the wedlock. 

“You were so wrong to think that I’d let you go, my beautiful wife…” and his whisper lingered through your sleeping brain like a lullaby.

-

Please don't use my writings without a permission. Pictures found on Pinterest.

Tags: @chilling-seavey

[maccreadyswife]

Okay. Okay

I think Deacon is by far the most tragic Fo4 companion because my GOD he spends so much time, as MacCready says, “being anyone but himself.” Literally you never learn his real name. He’s constantly watching his friends and allies die all for a cause SO much bigger than themselves.

Deacon never gets that chance at happiness and true companionship that the others get. He stays with the Railroad. He keeps his secrets and theirs to the end. You never find out… much at all about him. He always joking and saying random things and it’s such a perfectly crafted distraction from… finding out anything real.

The constant changing disguises, the lying, the. Just everything. His saying he prefers to be alone because getting too close could get him and his allies hurt all over again. He also says he likes traveling with you, but his base instinct is to just “pop a stealth boy and bug out.”

Also. The making up for his past mistakes and actions against synths. The actual RISKING HIS LIFE and throwing away his ENTIRE own identity, his being, for the sake of this cause. I cannot stress enough that this man has no identity left of his own anymore, and what there is is buried underneath so many layers that you, and probably he— will never find it again.

Also I’m adding to this. If you betray the RR for the Brotherhood or Institute, Deacon’s (cut) line about “how could you betray us… betray ME” and the actual rare hint of REAL emotion in his voice before he immediately turns on you. Someone he’d put trust into, someone he actually thought was going to do good for the Synths and for the Railroad. He doesn’t hesitate. That probably legitimately hurt him so much to do.

Deacon is not a character I can wrap my head around easily. He’s not someone I can conceptualize or fit into any box or any one sort of character trope. For that reason, I find him absolutely fascinating, and also completely heartbreaking.

[dollyzdaydreamz]

Modern! RDR2 HC’s:

the media each character consumes (*^▽^*)

Arthur Morgan

• Barely knows how to work a device.

• Only bought an iphone because John kept making fun of him for the $80 android he bought at Walmart

• John always gets mad at him for not responding to his texts

• Opens YouTube through safari.

• Watches the occasional drawing tutorial.

• Tutorials on how to take care of horses

• Watches those wilderness/camping vlogs made by middle aged men when the weather isn’t good enough to do outside work.

• Horse hoof restoration videos if he’s feeling a little crazy. • One time John sent him an out of pocket reel, and he opened it while he was in public. -it played on full volume and everyone heard

-he refused to speak to John for a week afterwards... • Doesn't comment on anything (probably doesn't even know how), but if he did on one of the reels John sends, I'm guessing it would be "on MY cellular device?"

John Marston

•Johnny boy mainly uses YouTube and Instagram

• Watches FPS game walkthroughs

• Finds unhinged people like Theo Von hilarious

• Watches Joe Rogan for his stupid conspiracy theories

-tells abigail about them to strike up conversation and she calls him stupid

• A few streamers (probably gamer ones)

• Addicted to scrolling on insta

-The type to just like every post he scrolls past

• Plays COD all the time.

-Screams when he loses and Abigail yells at him to shut up from the other room

• Sends memes to Arthur even though he doesn't understand them • If he is on tik tok he'd def comment "put this on ig reels" at every cringey tik tok he stumbles across.

Dutch Van Der Linde

• YouTube, TUMBLR, Twitter, Facebook (even though he thinks it’s outdated, but keeps it so he can send videos to Hosea)

•there an HC somewhere that said he’s the type to post obscure thirst traps on tumblr like pics of his arms/veins which is so funny

• Watches educational videos on YouTube:

-biographies on philosophers, or dictators, historical figures

-Social commentary

-Debates

• Cackles at videos of police officers getting heckled by that one “I have nothinggg😫” guy on tik tok

•Enjoys those videos of people falling over and nearly dying on Facebook and sends them to Hosea who responds with “😱😧”

• Hates Elon Musk and attacks him on twitter

• Has his own blog where he posts rants about the government and the current state of the world right now (cue in Jaden Smith) and then you scroll and it’s just a pic of his abs. • Would comment "my ranked teammates" whenever John or Micah tweet something stupid.

Hosea Mathews

•Facebook

•Only uses it on his laptop with a little mouse and everything

• Watches videos of orthopedic surgeons explaining beneficial stretches for your back and whatnot

• The news

• Animal documentary’s

• Traveling vlogs

•Watches with his eyes squinted and mouth slightly agape like old people do • Dutch sends him videos of those 'Nigerian king' scammers which he finds hilarious

Charles Smith

• Youtube, insta, tik tok

•Knows how to use tech fairly well but isn’t chronically online

•only scrolls when he’s bored in a waiting room or something

• Sports clips like Tennis, Football, UFC

• Wilderness/survival videos

• Videos of people building things from scratch •he's just a chill guy(✿◡‿◡) • Also doesn't get the memes John sends • If he stumbles across a strange and offensive tik tok he'd comment "oh that's not..."

Micah Bell

• TWITTER, instagram

• Laughs and reposts those really messed up videos of people dying in horrific accidents on insta reels

•Drunk, racist tweets

• Leaves hate comments on people’s posts when they look too happy like "kys"

• Leaves disgustingly thirsty comments on women’s posts

• Watches true crime on cable late at night as he drinks like a loser on his couch

bow divider created by @vysleix shiny divider created by @anitalenia  images found on pinterest

[thebestsetter]

"Men used to go to war, now they..."

Isagi Yoichi

...follow you around like a lost puppy.

Need to cook something? Yoichi can help! (Not really, since he doesn't know batshit about cooking and burns everything he touches, but it's the thought that counts, right?) Are you going out? No problem! He's gonna sit put and still on the edge of your shared bed, watching with a fond look as you rummage through your wardrobe trying to find the perfect clothes to go out! (Even though he thinks all of them look perfect on you) Need help shopping? He's already holding all of your bags for you! (Even if he looks ridiculous holding so many bags, but he refuses to let you touch a single one of them). In the end, he's just a lovesick boy who loves acts of service and some good old quality time, so just let him follow you around, yeah?

Chigiri Hyoma

...gossip and do skincare with you.

He literally hates the girls you talk about without even meeting them in real life. Like, what do you mean that Penelope lady cheated on her husband because he was on a 20 days trip? Ridiculous.

Anyways, skincares are a must in your relationship. You guys do it everynight, and, when he's away (for soccer reasons), you facetime to do it. It became a little tradition: he calls you the night before an important game, askijg if you already treated your skin. Then, when you say that you didn't, his eyes visibly, clearly - and a little comically too - light up (even though he already knew the answer. It's the same one everytime. You never do it without him). After that, you both just talk and laugh, trying to calm his nerves down before the game. Most of the times, the call only ends when one of you end up falling asleep. It's honestly cute how comfortable you are with eachother.

He swears he plays better when you do that. His many hat tricks can confirm that.

Nagi seishiro

...can't sleep if it isn't on your lap.

He physically can't anymore, and it makes him pissed.

His sweet pillows that looked oh so comfortable before must as well feel like rocks right now, because NOTHING compares to the fluffiness of your lap mixed with you petting his head. He feels like he's in heaven everytime you do it. He HATES when he's travelling and has to sleep on a 5 star hotel's bed, because how is it SO uncomfortable?? What the heck??

And you can BET the first thing he does when he comes home after his soccef trips is sleep. For a long time. Like, "hibernating" kind of long. One time, you seriously thought he was dead. But it was just the effect your lap has on him. Deal with it.

Reo Mikage

... spend an unholy amount of money.

This isn't even surprising. I mean, it's Reo we're talking about: the boy who has more money than what to do with it. And his financial situation obviously reflects on your relationship.

Looked at that hair product for 0.2 seconds more than the last product you saw? He already bought it! Want ice cream? He'll have 4 scoops, please!

The thing is that he was taught money=love (especially by his parents, who tried to make up for their absence by giving him money), so that's what he thought would swoop you off your feet. But it wasn't. It was the tender moments, the gentle kisses on your knuckles, and the goals dedicated to you. So don't think he only gives you money - he gives you PLENTY of quality time too!

Perhaps a part 2 will be written

[hils79]

Hils Watches Matz Travel Vlog - Part 3

Aww Seonghwa is doing his old man walk again

Bwahaha! And Hongjoong called him on it

I can't. Seonghwa staring at someone else's food and Hongjoong just looks so fond as he finds the dish on the menu so they can order it.

It's really interesting watching them order food in Italy because generally over here you would just order one dish for yourself. I think Korean food is more about ordering lots of dishes and sharing them, which seems to be what they are doing. It's cute.

They've only just ordered food and Hongjoong is already thinking about how they're going to get back to their hotel in Milan.

Happy engagement/anniversary/date/whatever this is

God, Seonghwa really did just start grooming him at the dinner table

I love it when Hongjoong describes things as a new experience. Like that time they made him try fish and chips in London and he clearly didn't like it 😂

The way Seonghwa just lifted Hongjoong's sleeve to stop it getting in the food. This is why we all call him mother. This is also why all my kpop kids say I'm like Seonghwa and call me mum because this is absolutely something I would do.

And then he just takes over because Hongjoong wasn't doing it right. God, I love them.

I'm pretty sure that's not true...

Hongjoong saying how it's safer to travel with someone else than alone and Seonghwa starts talking about what he'd do if someone tried to attack him. They are both so delightfully weird in different ways

Hongjoong is like 'I thought this was going to be a funny disaster video where we missed our boat or train or got lost but instead it just reminded me how much I love Seonghwa'

I love how they both talk about the other almost like a kid. But also in the way that people who have been married forever talk about their spouses.

All they needed was a day away from the kids to reignite their relationship

Hongjoong: this was such a healing trip Seonghwa: yeah, because we were recording content and that's relaxing for you

That's his husband no wonder he looks so smug about it

Next Matz date should be Loch Ness

They should do a Where's Seonghwa book. Has he learned this habit from Yeosang, who also has a habit of wandering off.

So Seonghwa went to bed at 4am and got up at 9am, whereas known insomniac Hongjoong went to bed early especially for this trip. How the turntables.

Some last minute boyfriend content

Welcome to public transport, Hongjoong

And of course we have to end with them being nerds

Aww sleepy boys

Holy shit their poor necks that does not look comfortable

I have to say watching that was kind of healing for me too. I haven't liveblogged anything since before I went on my Ateez trip and it felt good to start it up again. I should probably go back to liveblogging my dramas again. I just haven't had the energy to do anything since I got back but I'm starting to feel more like myself again now

[futuremrscameron]

how the !readers celebrate valentine’s day

bahamian!reader

bahamian!reader is neutral about the holiday but rafe is excited and going all out. their first valentines was the most laid back and it was a first class trip to the bahamas

every valentine's day is a friendly competition to see who can outdo the other's romantic gesture. before the kids they would either spend the day in bed, hit the beach, or go to a club in new york. post-kids the spontaneous traveling has died down but the romance and adventure is still very much there

after dropping the kids off at school the couple have the house to themselves and sleep in til lunch. they have lunch at the country club, ordering every valentine's special available. rafe is intrigued but disgusted at the idea of to-go boxes but that does Not stop bahamian!reader from asking for them

"i guess i just don't get it." rafe watches her effortlessly position the uneaten dessert into a box.

she shrugs, "what's not to get? couldn't finish the food, don't wanna waste it, still want it, i'm takin' it home."

he frowns, "right..."

"it's not that strange rafe. no different from leftovers and i know you know what leftovers are rich boy."

he blushes, "i know what leftovers are."

"well then there you go! this isn't all for me you know? not that grabalishous." she closes the final box and licks the cream cheese from the cinnamon roll of her finger. she taps the table, "fuck that's good. i'll give you folks that, you make good treats."

rafe blushes at the casual act made vulgar by his own mind. he looks down at his watch, "we have an hour before school let's out."

"i miss our chirren too but bringing them up on a date is what you rich folks would call a faux pas no?"

he sighs, "no i mean.- we have the house to ourselves..." he tilts his head and squints.

a grin slowly stretches across her face, "ooh you're nasty." she chuckles, grabs the bag full of takeout boxes and stands up. she points at the table, "pay then meet me in the car."

he watches her strut out the lounge, "yes ma'am."

they share their sweet treats with their kids and listen to them talk about their mini valentine's day celebrations at school (and yes they do take some of their candy)

after putting the kids to bed they take a dip in their pool, reminiscing on the times they would get drunk and skinny dip and reslize how dangerousbtaht was

they end the night sleeping soundly on the couch, cuddled up together after a valentine's day different from the ones of the past but still a success in their book (who gets the point for this valentine's will become discussed the next day)

academic rival!pogue

academic rival!pogue always imagined library dates as the extent of pope's romance before she realized she had feelings for him. the reality is a welcomed surprise.

she spends the night at pope's the day before after getting permission from both their parents.

pope stares at the ceiling in his room, "is it a good or bad thing that our parents think we're virgin loaers?"

she stops kissing his neck to meet his eyes, her glare tells him that was the wrong thing to say.

"i wouldn't describe myself like that." she removes herself from his lap and plops down next to him.

he shakes his head and sits up, trying to meet her eyes. "no of course not. i just mean- you know- i'm happy you're here and i have so much planned tomorrow and-"

"pope." she glances at him.

"yeah?"

she pushes him back down and throws her legs on both sides of his legs. "stop talking."

he nods, "okay."

pope wakes her up with coffee just how she likes it and gives her an itinerary list of their day. she hates that this has made him 1000 times hotter in her eyes.

10:00-11:00 breakfast/get ready for bookstore

11:30-1:00 bookstore shopping

1:15-2:00 reading at the park + lunch at the wreck

2:30-5:00 movie

they get ice cream after the movie and head down to the pier which leads them to the beach and collecting as many unique shells as they can find. academic rival!pogue comes up with the idea of putting shells on each other and taking pictures of their work

next valentine's day they both give the pictures they took with decorative frames

kitty!reader

wake and bake. arts and crafts (card making) in their shared pajama set while they eat breakfast

"okay that's cheating." she stops kissing her envelope and turns her attention to him.

"what?"

"kisses? on your envelope? that's like ten sexy points. "

"you literally have color pencils and markers, 10 points for creativity, we're evenly matched and if it's that much if a big deal you can borrow my lipstick?"

"that's not the point."

"okay so you're just talking to talk. take your L like a man."

after swpaping cards and calling the competition a tie they go to the park. they smoke on the swings and talk about the morality of child free spaces until one of the kook parents call the cops on them. kitty's kookness saves them from getting arrested but they have to leave the park

grocery shopping for pizza recipes goes better than expected, they get everything they on their list and almost no one can tell they're high as a kite

watching courage the cowardly dog reruns while they try to make a heart pizza. kitty is running that kitchen like the navy, it's the most intense pj's ever seen her and he into it

they eat their heart pizzas while playing dress to impress. kitty makes comments on how accurate it is to the fashion and modeling world

puppy!reader

the first half of the day is a half date half treasure hunt. puppy gives him a bunch of kisses (paper) with her favorite things about written on them and he gives her two tickets to the fair

they go to the beach bright and early because john b is meeting someone ther but puppy is none the wiser. he doesn't rush them to the next destination immediately but it's less out of the kindness of his heart and more because he doesn't need to be there til much later

on the way back from the beach puppy spots a trail and says they should see where it leads. john b worries that this impromptu hike will mess up his schedule but he doesn't wanna look sketchy so he agrees

puppy brings her picnic basket in hopes that they'll find a good spot for a picnic. they do.

"isn't this amazing?" she takes in the beautiful meadow they found once out for the woods.

john b holds his knees to his chest and anxiously taps his foot against the picnic blanket. "yeah it's great."

she sits down by his side and tucks a strand hair behind his ear, it calms his nerves somewhat. "don't worry baby, we'll make it in time."

he feels his heart drop, "how did you-"

"i know you, remember? and i know what someone keeping secrets looks like?" she looks down at her lap, "can you tell me next time?"

he kisses her forehead, "of course lady."

john b spends 30 minutes at the fair before he heads off. he refuses doesn't bring puppy to the mysterious location out of fear of her getting hurt but it doesn't make it any easier for either of them. he promises to make it up to her and tells her that jj will pick her up before zooming out of the parking lot leaving a heartbroken puppy

she's woken up by a hand over her mouth and screams before recognizing the familiar hand, john b. she screams some more at his horrifying entrance and curses ever giving him a key

"what the hell are you doing here?" she turns on the lamp on her nightstand to get a better look at him.

"i told you i'd make it up to you." he takes three steps forward and caresses her face before leaning in for a kiss.

hislips on hers almost melts all the questions out her mind. she softlt psuhes at his chest, "john b. where did you go? what did you find?"

he softly smiles, "don't worry about that right now." he kisses his way down her face, to her neck. she pulls him down on top of her, trying to keep up with his kisses and wiggle back onto the bed.

he slowly lifts up her shirt, placing kisses around her stomach before stopping at her boxers that look very familiar. "you missed me that much."

she looks down at the boxers, "i wanted to be close to you."

he smiles, "i missed you too" he roughly pulls the boxers down. she whimpers in anticipation and at his manhandling.

"shh it's okay." he kisses her cheeks as he pushes his pants down.

"you ready?" she nods. he slowly pushes in, making her grip his shoulders. his breathing grows heavier from the overwhelming feeling of her warmth squeezing around him.

he lokks down. she's having a similarly hard time. "you forgive me yet?"

"mm-hm." her eyes are squeezed shut.

"huh?" he thrusts, "hey. open your eyes baby."

she grips his curls, "y-yes! yes!"

"yeah?" he picks up his thrusts.

"yes!"

he gives her a soft but passionate kiss. "i love you."

"i love you johnny." she wipes her tears.

he slows down his thrusts to lean down and whisper in her ear, "don't cry. i'm sorry."

"it's okay."

"i won't leave you alone again." he wraps an arm around her waist lifting her onto his lap.

she drops her head in his shoulder, "johnathan."

"i got you baby."

'warm' is the only word that comes to their minds when they collapse side by side.

"promise you'll tell me what you found tomorrow?"

"promise."

bestie!kook

they've spent every valentine's together since high school but finally being official stresses them both out. rafe shows up at her house with flowers and balloons and she makes them heart pancakes. it's awkward for a couple minutes before they fall back into their usual routine

rafe gives bestie!kook a letter detailing how he feels since "he's not the best ar words". first time he realized he was in love, apologizing for using her, wanting her to move on with him, they're all in the letter. she cries of course

jewelry shopping after breakfast. bestie!kook picks out a pink heart diamond ring which rafe immediately puts on her finger. makes them think of marriage which leads to them crashing a wedding

talking about the future and hopes and dreams like they used to do on the roof at family parties. they leave early and go to a hotel

a rose petal bath to unwind and two glasses of wine to celebrate a successful valentine's day

weird girl!kook

weird girl!kook drives to tanneyhill to wake jj up, knowing he crashes there 9 times out of 10. she gives him a wet willy which makes him wake up screaming and cursing until he realizes it's her. irritated that she went through the trouble of getying a box, a gift, and gift wrap for this spoiled brat she calls her boyfriend

"beautiful girl what did i do to deserve this?" his voice us muffled as he whines into her side.

"you were supposed to pick me up at 12." she pulls his hair causing him to wince and remove his face from her side.

"i know. forgive me?" he pouts. she drops her hold on his hair and stands up causing his face to hit the bed.

"gross." she tosses his gift box on the bed, "here's your gift."

he rips it off within seconds and gasps when he sees the contents. "babe! a lighter? and it's got my name on it?" he pulls her into a hug, she pats his head.

"i love you."

"i know."

can't stay mad at him for long espeically when he gets her the paint/brushes she's been talking about for months and shares his weed with her

they go back to weird girl!kook's so she can check on her babies (ferrets) before they head out

jj surprises her with dinner reservations to her favorite outdoor restaurant. he's on his best behavior which freaks her out so bad. she drags him to the photo booth and kisses him stupid

she only comes up for air after feeling his hand on her butt. she grips his face; "stop whatever you're doing?"

"wha do you mean?" it comes out slurred so she let's go.

"this well adjusted normal guy act. it's freaking me out "

he laughs. it makes her eye twitch. "you're the one that told me to be on my best behavior."

"yeah, your best behavior not your best serial killer impersonation."

he pinches her side, she pinches him back. "you're a really complicated woman you know that?"

she huffs.

he shakes his head and sighs, "i hope no one took our photo. though someone perming off to picture of us making out is kind of flattering, no?"

she shakes her head, "freak." her smile tells him it's a compliment.

going to the abandoned exhibit to paint the walls using the new brushes and paint jj got her. jj's supposed to be lookout but he's too enamored by her painting to notice the sirens, nearly getting them caught

biker!pogue

biker!pogue doesn't think the holiday is that big of a deal while rafe sees it as the ultimate indicator of whether or not a couple is meant to last

he gets her flowers and a motorcycle charm for her keychain. she's genuinely surprised at his thoughtfuless and can't help but wonder if he's only doing this out of his misguided belief that valentine's day is some fortune teller or out of actual love for her

it's proven to be the latter when he takes her to an arcade. not just any arcade, but the arcade that helped her hone her motorcycle riding skills. he talks about his intense attitude the whole day and gives the closest thing to an apology he knows

racing on the beach until the sun starts to set. rafe loses back to back to back but insists 4th time's the charm. it's not, he loses again. takes his loss semi gracefully.

they stop at a grocery store in figyre eight and the heywards' in the cut to get everything she needs for the dinner she's got planned. she makes rose-shaped pizza rolls and heart-shaped garlic bread

angel!reader

originally, angel was supposed to go to a church event but rafe somehow convinced her to take a trip with him, mostly as an apology for everything

shocked by how much fun she's having at the getaway, angel starts to think of her future and what she wants in life. making heart shaped cookies and the trial run life with rafe is nice but it reminds her too much of her old life

rafe thinks the resort will cheer her up because he's having a ball but angel doesn't care for it. choosing to go on the tour of the nearby forest instead. it's there she has her spiritual reawakening

she meets rafe back at their cabin and is surprised to find him eating the cookies she made. she apologizes for ruining his planned day but he's not bothered at all

they eat sweets for dinner and feel that pain on the drive back to the outer banks

bunny!reader

rafe actually loves valentine’s day-- not the holiday itself but that he gets to prove his worth, take care of his bunny and show her off, so he goes all out. a weekend stay at a resort leading up to the big day.

the first gift of the weekend, a trip to the salon and a new purse filled with 100-dollar bills, because what kind of man would he be letting her pay for her own nails

after the salon they relax by the pool, bunny working on her tan and rafe glaring at anyone that stares too long at her

the second day has bunny lounges by the pool, new nails shining under the sun as she works on her tan. rafe tries to take it easy on the drinking so he's sober at dinner later

candlelit dinner at a classy restaurant rafe bought out just for them. bunny has been dying to go there and is estatic when rafe tells her their dinner plan. squeals and jumps into his arms, covering him in glossy kisses.

"oh thank you thank you thank you!"

"yeah yeah, look save it for later 'kay? i paid good money for this shit, don't want us to be late."

bunny makes him coordinate with her (not those godawful pastels). she gives him a color palette and expects him to stick to it which he does, not wanting to hear her rant about the "color palette for valentine's day" again

rafe goes all out, renting out a limousine for the day driver takes them to dinner

ending the day over the moon and completely lovestruck

foxy!reader

they're still not officially together so they don't celebrate together, they just happen to be in the same places at the same time. foxy is still getting used to not hating rafe and rafe is getting used to her not hating him and getting over the betrayal he felt after she helped the pogues. things are rough.

they're both invited to a work event but don't bring a plus one just in case the other is there. they are and they do.

foxy feels rafe's eyes follow her every move and it is just as irritating as she remembers but when she moves to confront him he's chatting with not just any lawyer, but a lawyer at a rival firm who hates her.

she's up for an award but loses to said rival. she goes outside for a smoke and rafe follows suit

"that's a nasty habit you got there."

her bloods runs cold at the sound of his voice, "yeah well considering the circumstances, i think i've earned it."

he leans against the railing, "the circumstances being?"

"should i listen them alphabetically or chronologically?"

he hums and lets them sit in silence for a few seconds. "you deserved that award."

"i know." she exhales, "i think this is karma for all those years i worked for you guys."

he scoffs, "you know i don't believe in that shit."

she puts out her cigarette and turns to him, "what do you believe in cameron?"

he gives her a half smile.

spend the rest of the evening talking shit about the attendees. it's the most fun they've both had in a while.

[mossy-rossy]

Oh my little love, I wish I was there to protect you.

[stealingpotatoes]

heres a crappy venn (??) diagram explaining the dynamics in the tl4j time travel au bc it's easier than trying to write a full plot

[uncharted-constellations]

~You were just a kid too, huh~

Again, I refuse to make adult mm link edgy sorry.

[sca3a]

🔸️Taleasin's partner is Emmrich, and they go on dates as often as they can. They often head to the Memorial Garden, because there's where it all started. But they also like to visit the opera, small cafés and other intimate settings.

For Taleasin, the most romantic thing Emmrich's ever done is accepting them for who they are, and for Emmrich it's Taleasin bringing him to meet their parents. It's small gestures, but with so much meaning.

I think, if they had all the time and no obligations, they would travel to the coast and rent a little cottage. Just enjoying each other's company for as long as they wanted.

Emmrich is very open about his feelings and if there's anything he wants Taleasin to know, he says it. Taleasin on the other hand tend to over analyze everything, and the one thing they haven't brought up is the fact that they want to marry him. They're just afraid to be turned down.

🔸️Esha also has Emmrich as a partner, and yes, frequent dates are a necessity. A stroll through the Memorial Garden or a visit to the Rivain Coast to enjoy the sun.

For Esha, the most romantic thing Emmrich has done, and ever could do, was accept that she has a history. A history that includes two kids. She would never be able to be with a man that didn't welcome them all.

The most romantic thing Emmrich knows is when she's vulnerable. He knows her story, or most of it, and he knows how hard she has had to fight to survive. And so that she feels comfortable enough around him to be vulnerable, to show emotions, it makes him feel incredibly loved.

🔸️Felassan's partner is Davrin. They aren't much for dates, but prefer to take small moments wherever they can. An impromptu visit to Felassan's favorite clearing, a little picnick in the forest, visiting Eladrin and the griffons.

Felassan is a bit more of a romantic than Davrin, so the fact that the Warden built a lute to him almost made him teary-eyed. Davrin wouldn't be able to choose one thing, because Felassan does so much for him. But he does really enjoy that the Veil Jumper dotes on Assan.

Eventually they'll end up growing their family by adopting three kids. Twin boys and a girl.

A head canon I have is that when Felassan is stuck in the Fade, Davrin carves him over and over again during the passing weeks, perfecting his likeness so that he never forgets him should he never come back. He still carries the last one with him in his pack, wherever he goes.

🔸️Tannivh's partner is Lucanis, and despite the elf being a more privately loving person, Lucanis makes sure they spend quality time together - especially at Café Pietra because he does like how flustered Tannivh becomes when he kisses him in public.

The fact that Tannivh chose him at all, despite Spite and all his trauma, is probably the most romantic thing Lucanis can think of. That he was patient, understanding and a closeted romantic only made everything better. He got his happy ending, just like he read about in his books.

Lucanis gifted Tannivh a special made dagger when everything had settled. It's silverite with two crows on the handle, and he treasures it deeply. He has heard about the debacle with Viago and the knife, so the irony isn't lost on him - but he did kinda rub it in Viago's face after having recieved the dagger.

Tannivh isn't much for kids, but after having settled down together, and getting married (Teia waited a whole week before starting to plan the wedding), they end up kinda, sorta, adopting a young child and even though they'll end up training it to become a Crow just like its parents, they'll use gentler methods that what they got.

I also picture that after Weisshaupt, Lucanis often finds himself in Tannivh's room, because it's the only place he feels safe enough to fall asleep - mostly because Spite doesn't interfere.

Rook Introduction Hour 2/14/25

Happy Valentine's Day! I hope everyone celebrating is having a wonderful time! 💞💖❣️🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏿👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽👨🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼💌🩵🫶🏼🥰💝💘❣️

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

🎶 L is for the way you look at me /O is for the only one I see /V is very, very extraordinary /E is even more than anyone that you adore! 🎶

Today's Question(s): NOW it's all about 💕Romantic love💕! Who is/are your Rook's LI(s)? Do they go on dates together frequently? Where do they like to go together? What's the most romantic thing that Rook's ever done for them? That they've ever done for Rook? If they had unlimited time and money, and no obligations, what would they do for each other? Is there anything Rook or their LI(s) want to say to each other that they haven't yet, for some reason? If they were to settle down together, would they want to start a family? Do you have any headcanons about anything they did together during the game that wasn't shown? And lastly, do you have any pictures of Rook and their LI(s) that you want to share?

Hopefully there are enough questions for everyone to find something they're excited about! Have fun, and thanks for sharing!

(Also, if you are looking for more DA themed Valentine's day content, taamlok made a new romance themed ask game, and corvus-frugilegus is sending silly valentines! And those of you playing on PC can also download the Veilguard of Love mod that metamancer-io made, and turn your Veilguard romantic! Hope you have fun!)

[ardate]

Every Boromir hater makes my enormous love for him grow stronger. Sorry you couldn't understand him, I get him tho and we're holding hands and the whole of Gondor is laughing at you

[radlymona]

Does anyone else hate that meme about only boys thinking about the Roman Empire and girls (and some gay men) gleefully being like “I only think about [insert current pop culture trend]”.

And it’s like continuing the meme that boys are intelligent beings, interested in history while girls are just…not

This coupled with the girl math thing, and also the “boys when they time travel vs. girls” and overall bimbofication trend. We’e going back in time where pretending to be stupid and vapid was the norm and it just alienates women who are proud of their intelligence even more from other women

[funkyplantguy]

for your consideration: bad boys but in a futuristic, cyberpunk, colorful neon world. bad boys but void jumpers, hopping from one reality to the next, from one body to another, reckless and loud and full of life. they all have matching neon streaks in their hair and matching laughs of glee as they outrun whatever deity or government or entity is chasing them this time. nothing bad ever happens to them. nothing bad ever happens to them