#why are these ghosts so flipping cute???

[one-joe-spoopy]

The ghosts... Oh no they're so freaking cute. Blobby ghosts that look like smoke trails in the cutesy ghost way have a special place in my heart.

Does Juno Steel believe in ghosts? Sure. Just not the white-sheet wailing kind. But the half-seen faces from the past who whisper in the dark about promises you never kept, things you'll never know, times dead and going, going, gone…

Mick's house in @thepenumbrapodcast's Haunting of the Terrible Trio, in the style of @kayleerowena's gorgeous haunted house pieces!

[ID: a digital drawing of dollhouse manor, mick mercury's floating mansion. it's a pink mansion that resembles a victorian dollhouse, floating in front of a red and gold sky. there are three ghosts emerging from its windows, each representing a different member of the oldtown trio. END ID]

[thinkinonsense]

WICKED

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark

authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333

he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.

logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.

"lovely seeing you here again, logan."

he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.

"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"

"home." he states, gruffly.

"that's boring. why were you at home?"

"wedding anniversary."

the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.

“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”

“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.

“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”

“doubtful.”

“and why’s that?” you fake pout.

logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”

“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”

the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.

after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.

“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.

logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.

“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.

“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.

logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”

it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.

"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.

the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.

"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.

"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.

"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."

that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.

"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.

logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.

"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."

a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.

an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.

"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."

"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.

"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.

he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.

"what are you—"

"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."

logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.

"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.

"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"

"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."

within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.

"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.

you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.

roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.

desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.

carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.

"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.

logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.

"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."

"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.

"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.

for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.

"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.

"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."

logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.

[jaxon-exe]

Is this?? My child????

Dp x dc prompt

So I’ve seen, and even made, plenty of prompts where Jason is a baby ghost but like… what if it was the other way around??

Jason (having been dead and revived for a good several years) has a fully adult ghost core. It’s a little misshapen and malnourished so he can’t turn into a ghost but it’s there. He’s basically a halfa that’s a bit more on the living side.

Danny on the other hand, having only died a year ago at most, has a baby core. Young child at most. Unfortunately bc of his living side other ghost have a hard time recognising how young his core is. Like they can feel that his core is a bit weird for an adult ghost but just assume that it’s bc he’s a halfa and so treat him like an adult, making him fully unaware that he is actually a child.

Anyway, one day something happens that causes these two to meet and immediately, for reasons he can not explain, Jason is convinced this whole ass teenager in front of him is actually a baby and is now his child.

Basically Jason’s core (with his obsession to protect children) is able to tell that Danny is a baby and doesn’t hesitate to just go- MY CHILD NOW

But bc Jason isn’t really in tune with his core and doesn’t even know he has one, has no fucking idea why he had the sudden desire to look after this child. Leading him to flip between “why am I doing this????” To “awww cute baby I got u it’s ok” to “if anything happens to Danny I will kill everyone in this room and then myself” than back to “why am I so attached to this kid??? Wtf???”

Danny meanwhile is aware of ghost cores, understands that his core likes this other guy but doesn’t know he had a baby core and is accidentally setting all of red hoods parental instincts into overdrive every time he so much as breaths in his detection.

[hairmetal666]

The worst thing that ever happened to Eddie Munson is a spinning studio opening in the building next to the neighborhood store he runs with his uncle.

"That's the third one today," Eddie whines as soon as the door snicks shut behind a woman with a glossy high ponytail and electric pink polka dot Lululemon sports bra and bicycle short set.

"You see her ponytail?" Nancy asks. She's flipping through a stack of flashcards. "Never seen a twenty-five year old look fresh off a facelift."

"I hate them so much. What kind of job is 'cycling instructor' anyway?"

"I'm concerned about the amount of makeup they wear to workout. That's gotta be bad for the pores."

"I'm concerned about the collective IQ holding that operation together. Like, do they know how to get out if there's a fire alarm?"

Nancy shoves him, but snickers too. It's not like he really has anything against the instructors. They're fine. Polite and usually harmless. It's the principle of it. It's not fair, that they get to continue into an adulthood that's still all about them being pretty and popular, without any substance.

"You've done college bio," he says. He notices a couple of cereal boxes have fallen over, hops off the counter to push them back in place. "What are the chances their muscles are so big it's cutting off the blood flow to their brains? Is that a thing that can happen?"

There's no response from the front of the store, which isn't unusual. Mostly, she lets him talk and chimes in when the mood strikes. Since she seems uninterested in offering her input, he straightens the cereal and keeps gabbing.

"The other day, one of the guys came in, and his shorts were so tight, I could see his balls. Not just the outline, but the wrinkles. I could almost make out individual pubes. Is that one of those things where they pretend they're limiting drag, or whatever, to improve their speed? Even though it's a stationary bike--"

He turns, the shelves straightened, and literally only three feet from him is one of the aforementioned cycling instructors. Unfortunately, he's the most beautiful man Eddie has ever seen. Even more unfortunately, he definitely heard Eddie making fun of them.

"Uhh," Eddie says.

The guy smiles. "Sorry, my giant muscles make it hard to get around sometimes."

And Eddie just. Like. What the fuck. "That must make it difficult to cycle." God, god but this guy is so fucking, devastatingly hot and all Eddie has done is antagonize him. And not even intentionally!

"I get by," he smiles and Eddie almost swoons. "Hey, when I bend down, can you let me know about the ball sitch? I have a wholesome image to maintain."

Is he flirting? It seems like he's flirting? But that's weird, right? He caught Eddie talking shit, why would he--

"It would be my pleasure to look at your balls," his mouth says before his brain can catch up.

The guy snorts, smile getting bigger. "I don't know, now I might be self-conscious. Might have a wayward pube."

"How will you know if someone doesn't take a look?"

The guy steps closer, cocks his head to the side. He's got this impressive sweep of hair that barely tumbles, his throat dotted with cute little moles and freckles. Eddie's mouth is watering, why is his mouth watering? "I usually get to know someone a little bit better before they get that privilege."

For once, he's speechless and now he's blushing, can feel it up to his ears and down to his nipples.

The guy leans even closer, breath ghosting against Eddie's skin. "Too bad you hate exercise instructors."

This social interaction has already been a disaster, but he makes it even worse by responding with an indignant squeak.

The guy winks, can't hide his genuine amusement at Eddie's expense. "You ever want to make it up to me, you can come to one of my classes."

With that, he walks up to Nancy at the counter, and Eddie gets his first look at the single most glorious ass he's ever seen. His mouth literally drops open as he watches how it jiggles, perfect and round, and he wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship it right then and there.

Eddie's dumbstruck for a little too long, almost misses as the cycling instructor heads for the door. "How can I take your class if I don't know your name?" He shouts.

The instructor half turns, the sexiest, smuggest smile on his pretty face. "It's Steve!" He yells back.

"I'm Eddie!"

"I know!"

The door closes and he turns to Nancy. "How--how did he know my name?"

Nancy rolls her eyes, goes back to her flashcards. "You're wearing a name tag, you absolute dork."

Eddie knows he's a man of weak will. Is not completely surprised when, after a month of meanly flirtatious interactions, Steve leans across the counter to taunt, "you do one cycling class with me and I'll take you out to dinner."

He's fresh from a workout, hair still damp and messy from the shower. Eddie thinks he's about to lose his mind, desire a clawing beast gnawing on his bones.

"Oh, so I might finally get the opportunity to check out your balls?"

Steve's cheeks go very pink, and something tight and hot tugs in Eddie's abdomen. "If you play your cards right."

[islandheartprincess]

into the new years ✧ r.c oneshot

summary: rafe is yours, he just doesn't know it. ˖⁠♡*⁠.⁠✧

pairing: rafe cameron x obsessed and HOT reader

c!w: swearing, no smut, only kissing rlly, reader leaves rafe wanting more, rafe is mesmerized

a/n: happy new years! here's a one shot to open into 2025 ♡

with new years coming up, there was only one person you could dream of entering the new year with. rafe cameron, kook prince.

everyone would be attending the annual new year's party at your college, including your special someone. it was a good opportunity to get out the house, get drunk with your friends, have fun. you even dressed up for rafe, for gods sake.

putting on a tight top and the shortest skirt you could find, just hoping he would even glance at you once. you should've felt a little shame, at least, but you really had forgotten all of your dignity when it came to rafe Cameron.

you had kept your eye on rafe the whole night, feeling your heart break a little everytime you saw him conversing with a girl, already imagining the flirty remarks he gave them. you had to remind yourself that he barely knew you, and he's basically been with every girl on the island.

you could've cared less though, he was yours, despite him not knowing it. the other girls you saw, putting their hands on his biceps, giggling at his slightest comments, they didn't like him how you did.

sliding away from your friends, you watched rafe through the crowd, music blasting loud into your ears. he found himself at the makeshift bar, getting another drink. that was your signal. you pushed your way through the crowd and made your way to get a drink. whilst pouring your drink, someone bumped you, causing you to spill your drink on the floor and thankfully not on yourself.

when you turned your head, you felt your stomach flip when your eyes landed on him. rafe. "shiittt, my bad," he drunkenly said, before looking at you. letting out a whistle, he signaled for someone to clean up the mess before returning his attention back to you. he eyed you up and down, letting his gaze linger on your chest for a little while longer.

"that's okay" you smiled at him, fluttering your lashes and placing your hand onto his arm. "have I met you before?" he said to you, inching closer.

"i don't think so?" you responded, letting your lips pout a little while your eyes had a look of innocence, yet still remaining seductive.

"mmmm, would've remembered a gorgeous face like yours." you knew he was drunk, but his flirtatious comments still made your heart beat. "well, now you wont forget it, im y/n"

he licked his lips, you were perfect. "names rafe. really wanna get to know you better, princess." that was all it took before you grabbed his wrist, pulling him into an empty hallway.

you pushed his back against the wall, his hands not knowing where to even start. he gripped your waist, as you began kissing his jaw. his lips ghosted the shell of your ear, "fuck you're hot" you felt his hot breath against your neck, trailing up and kissing him harshly on the mouth.

you kissed with passion, not knowing how long you'd been waiting for this. it was sloppy, given how drunk he'd been and how desperate you were. his tongue slipped into your mouth needily licking at you.

rafe's hands dropped down to your ass, squeezing you as you continued making out with him. finally, you pulled away, letting out a heavy breath. looking up, you saw rafe looking at you with desperation in his eyes, he needed you, more.

it was cute, really, how pathetic he looked. i mean, you couldn't just leave him like that, right? so, you planted a kiss on his cheek, leaving him with nothing but a wink. swaying your hips, as the crowd next to you cheered, counting down into the new year.

he watched you walk away, but instead of feeling angry, he was just hypnotized. who were you and why did he need you so bad?leaving him in his drunk, and needy state only made his want for you worse.

you were his mystery girl, and he definitely wasn't forgetting you after that.

[certaimromance]

࣪ ִֶָ☾. Love or seal?

Dean Winchester x Hunter!reader

Summary: An avenging spirit is killing married couples, so the Winchesters think it's a good idea to use you to pretend to be one and take down the ghost. But the act becomes all too real before you know it.

Words: 1,8k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. mentions of murder, death, violence. so much teasing. a little of angst with happy ending. dean from the early seasons but soft and chaotic (a bit simp). sam being cupid and forgotten lol. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I've always been a Dean girl and I'm so excited about this. I love the concept of "Frenemies to Lovers" with its more playful and cutie version from the earlier seasons, I hope I described it well.

This is my second time ever writing here, i'm still new.

You took another look in the mirror and walked a few laps around the dingy motel room, trying to swallow the act. It seemed ironic to wear such a fancy dress and high heels in a place like this, but it was all so you could solve the case and prevent more deaths. After all, it was your job to catch the ghosts and put them to rest.

It had been a long time since you'd been out on a date or worn anything other than your usual jeans and leather jacket. Buying yourself a cute dress and wedding rings with one of your fake cards had been entertaining, the closest thing to a normal life you'd had in years.

“Come in, I need help with the zipper on my dress.” You said after hearing a couple of knocks on your door.

You were still standing in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for Sam to show up to help you so the two of you could leave soon for the restaurant where you both had reserved a table. The strange thing was that the cold hands you felt running down your back and zipping you up were not his, but those of his older brother.

“What are you doing here? Where is Sam?” You turned around to look at Dean once your dress was closed. It was then that you noticed he was wearing a suit and the ring.

“In the room.” He replied, moving closer to you so he could look at himself in the mirror and adjusting his tie with difficulty, he was not used to wearing one at all and felt suffocated.

“Why are you dressed like that?” You asked him after looking him over from head to toe and inevitably biting your lower lip. He looked good, all dressed up and dapper, you could even smell the scent of cologne wafting off him.

“I'll be your husband for tonight.” Dean smiled at you.

You frowned when you heard that the younger Winchester would no longer be your fake husband, because that was not what you had all agreed upon. Sam had always been more husband material, and you trusted him enough to have some physical contact if necessary. On the other hand, you saw Dean as someone who was far from the prototypical perfect partner, and you could barely talk to him without arguing about your differences, never having touched him except for sparring practice or taking away the gun he kept stealing from you. You couldn't deny that both brothers were attractive, but they were almost equally far from meaning anything romantic to you.

“We flipped a coin and I got the job.” He added to the explanation, noticing the confusion on your face.

Finally you nodded, realizing that once again they had not been able to reach an agreement and had had to put luck in the middle for the choice of roles. You didn't mind going with Dean, you had already been on several hunts with him and trusted his skills, but having to impersonate his wife was weird.

“Can you...?” He tried to ask you, pointing at his tie and all the trouble it caused him.

You let out a small laugh at seeing him so confused over a simple tie and went over to him to take it off. You had to tie it all over again because of how badly he had done it before.

“This looks very wife.” He commented as he saw the delicacy with which you were trying to fix his mess.

“I hope the spirit feels the same and is looking forward to slaughtering us.” You replied, taking a step away from him as you finished.

You two said a quick goodbye to Sam and then hopped into the Impala, which took you to a shiny restaurant near the road where the ghost appeared.

“Don't embarrass me, please.” You said to him as soon as you both sat down at the table and placed your order.

“How could I, darling?” He smiled innocently at you and took your hand on the table, caressing the ring on your finger.

You didn't say anything, just smiled back and kept your thoughts to yourself. You couldn't believe he actually called you that, sounding almost like a husband, even though you knew it was because of the acting, it gave you a funny feeling in your stomach. The most you'd gotten from Dean Winchester in all the years you'd known him was a "good job" and a strange smile, followed by a lot of questions about your careless decisions. You alone were far enough away from marriage, let alone someone like him.

“You look very handsome tonight.” You told him as you saw he was drinking water, causing him to almost spit it out in surprise.

Usually you never complimented him, barely looked him in the eye, talked about anything other than hunting, or even laughed at his jokes. It seemed that his presence didn't matter much to you because your interests were more aligned with Sam's and you got along better with him. That bothered Dean a lot, he hated being so invisible in your eyes.

Now, however, you didn't take your eyes off him and even gave him compliments that left him speechless to continue the performance.

“At least the food is good.” You said absentmindedly as the waiter brought the plates.

“And the company?”

You looked into his eyes, trying to understand if he was playing with you or if he was really hurt by your lack of emotion. The strange thing was that you didn't know if it was one or the other, his greenish gaze was a mystery.

“The best company, of course.” You gave him a smile and picked up your glass of wine to make a small toast.

“How affectionate you are now.”

“Yes, I feel almost as if today is the last day of my life.” You said with irony.

Dinner went off without a hitch in a quiet and strangely pleasant atmosphere. You couldn't help but be surprised by Dean's friendliness, it was the first time you had a civilized conversation with him. The first time he held your hand and you noticed how green his eyes were.

Suddenly, everything he said, silly or not, made you smile. The only rational thing to do was to attribute it to the glass of wine he had decided to drink. In general, you didn't allow yourself to drink alcohol, let alone in the middle of a hunt. But now, for some reason, you thought it would help your nerves and relax you a bit.

“Where did you leave the car?” You asked once they left the site and the time to travel the road of death was approaching.

“In the corner over there...I hope.” He answered without really being sure. For him, it had all happened so fast when you two arrived.

“My feet hurt. Don't play with me now.” You said, hating the high heels you were wearing.

At that moment, the hunter stopped and motioned for you to sit on the bench by the exit. Unsure, you obeyed and frowned as he knelt down to gently remove your shoes.

“Happy now?” He asked he asked, holding your heels in his hands.

“I can't walk barefoot.” You claimed, putting on a fake sad face and lowering your gaze to his arms.

Dean shook his head instantly.

“No, don't even think that I'll carry you.” He warned confidently, folding his arms.

A few minutes later, he was silently leading you to the car, snorting at every opportunity to give in so easily to your wishes.

“This looks very husband.” You pointed out with a smile and a teasing tone.

“I would offer you to the spirit right now.” He replied, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“How lovely you are, my dear.”

The two finally got into the car and headed for the exit. Dean had received a message from his brother telling him that he had found the name of the ghost woman and her grave with her husband, who was the cause of all his resentment against happily married couples, and to top it off, he was buried on top of her.

“Sam is going to burn the grave and everything will be fine.” He said trying to comfort you as he saw the concern on your face. “Maybe the woman doesn't want to kill anyone today.”

“You have too much faith in a murderous spirit.” You sighed and tried to remove the ring from your finger, but it stuck. “And you should take the ring off.”

“Are we getting divorced so soon?” He replied in a joking tone, with his eyes on the road.

You looked at him seriously, this was no time for jokes because everything was going wrong. If Sam didn't dig up those bones soon, they were probably going to kill you both and the plan was going to fail completely. It was supposed to be easy and you were terrified that it wasn't anymore.

“Come on, don't be like that. You were laughing so hard with me.” He smiled at you.

Before you could respond, a pale woman in a blood-stained wedding dress appeared in the back seat. You could barely say Dean's name when the ghost's hand came around your neck and began to choke you. After a few moments, you couldn't even breathe and everything became a blur.

You didn't want to die, at least not at that moment. Not without having lived a life as good as the night before everything went to hell. You still had too many things to do to go like that, let alone in front of him, you couldn't let that happen.

“Don't move.” The hunter said to you before drawing his gun and disputing you to the back seat.

The ghost disappeared for a few seconds and then reappeared just ahead of the road. A braking maneuver as the woman was beginning to burn in front of the two of you almost made you jump out of your seat.

Sam had succeeded.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, looking at you with concern.

“Yeah.” You said, still trying to catch your breath and process everything that had happened.

“And my thanks for saving you and not letting death part us?”

At any other time, you would have simply made a sarcastic comment and emphasized that it was all thanks to her brother. However, the recent experience had changed something in you and made you kiss his cheek.

Before you could completely pull your face away from his, he put his hand on your cheek and pulled you close. You felt his lips move over yours and responded without hesitation. A big part of you had been thinking about this moment all night and was more than happy it was happening. It was like the perfect ending to a fake marriage date, minus the killer ghost part, and it made you smile in the middle of it.

“You didn't flip any coin, did you?” You asked as you broke away from the kiss for a second.

“No, I didn't.” He admitted, leaving a kiss on your head and making you smile even more.

[bunny-jpeg]

(ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ mad(ly in love) max｡ ⊹˚.⋆

partially inspired by this by @angldelight before it got away from me! <3

max knew you looked better in blue than red. and if you did look good in red, it was the red of the his team rather than the garish red of ferrari. he believed the statement that everyone is a ferrari fan even if they don't know it, because if they saw a photo of you, they'd have brand loyalty to the stallion for the rest of their days.

there was a reason why your face and name were everywhere in your home country. you were a pride and joy to the nation you called home. but, max was more than happy to stake a claim on you.

max liked you because you challenged him. far too many women would bend over backwards for the three time champion, but you simply glared him down with your hands on your hips. you stood toe to toe with him even if there was a height difference. but you kept your gaze steady on him.

"don't fuck me over again." you said, "or you'll regret it."

"i would never do it on purpose, princess. maybe you should watch where you are going from now on." he bite back in response. he noticed a twitch in your hand, like you wanted to grab him by the front of his driver's suit and pull him close. either for a punch or a kiss.

it would eventually lead in kisses. max liked when you were mad because then that meant he could flip the script and get ferrari's little princess on her knees with a mouthful of verstappen cock. it was honestly cute, while he wanted to dive into your sweet cunt and make your insides sticky with his cum. he'd have to make you acquainted with his size.

max verstappen was fuckin' crazy though, being involved with him was like being a deer and getting your leg caught in a trap. the type of obsession that clamped around you, dug its teeth into your fragile skin. you were so cute though, something some delicate and soft. formula one was for the toughest, the mental and physical strain of it all (that could be why he was so... off). and while max believed in you, he worried.

where you were going, who you were with. you hadn't only been in monaco for a few years and while you had the likes of charles to help you around. when he heard about men you had met, max felt something curl inside of him.

it started inauspicious. he slipped an air tag into the back pocket of your jeans while you were in your driver's room getting ready for dinner with some guy that max couldn't even remember the name of. he was all smiles as he wished you a great time.

too bad there was an issue with your car. how could you have a flat tire already, you just got the car? and when you asked your date to come pick you up, he totally ghosted you. little did you know that while you were struggling with you car, max went to meet your date and give him a few firm words. that was when the real mad max came out.

"listen mate. you're never going to give her what she needs. hell, not even what she wants. there are plenty of fish in the sea." he got a little closer to the other man, "but you can't have her."

"why?" your date swallowed.

max nodded and flashed that winning smile, "because she's mine. and i know she may have talked so nice to you. she's like that. charming. but sadly she's taken. so i think it's in everyone's best interest that you delete her number and go back to finding your perfect match." he patted the man on the shoulder like they were buddies.

"and if i don't."

max's smile only grew, "i don't like people fucking what's mine. she's taken, mate. move on." he couldn't verbalize exactly how he'd rough up the other man. he didn't want to make headlines. but there was something in his gaze that made your date high tail it out of there. your number blocked and deleted.

max then used the air tag to find you at a bar close to your flat where you were drinking away your sorrows. but, don't worry about that! max was now here to make sure that you had the best night ever. while that meant ending up drunk and curled up in his bed, but he didn't mind. he was even a gentleman and created a barrier of pillows between the two of you. no funny business. even if he wanted to. when he eventually fucked you, he wanted you conscious.

that air tag would come in handy, turns out that you wore the same pair of black levi's jeans. max was wondering if he had to get more air tags to place along other items. but, he lucked out with that one. you thought it was a strange coincidence that he seemed to be where you were.

and he'd laugh and tell you, "small city, right?"

it took months of hard work but, eventually he got to sink his pretty cock into your prettier hole. the happiest day of his life. he had invited you on his boat for the afternoon, and while he didn't expect much. he wasn't expecting your pretty tits on such display. a pretty red checkered print bikini and sandals as you stayed close to max.

and then alone, out in the waters. you ended up straddling max's waist while he sat on one of the seats up on the deck. it was couch-like and allowed you two some room as you rubbed your sweet pussy up against the front of his shorts. his hands dug into the plushness of your ass as he moved against you. you were painfully pretty, and it drove max insane. you'd try to run him off the track, but he'd always get an apology by having your pretty tits in his face and your pussy around his cock.

"you feel so good." he said, "you're so soft."

you whimpered, "i'm not that soft. you keep feeding me all this good food since i came to visit! my team is going to be pissed." you squirmed a little.

he kissed at your breasts in front of your face and laughed, "well, then. i guess i'll have to keep feeding you better food." his teeth then nipped your left breast and it made you whine. his hands continued to grope you ass and you squirmed a little more.

you didn't realize that you're movements only made him harder and he had to force himself to let go of you to take his cock out of his shorts. this was a dream come true, after months of being your little shadow.

"you know how to do this?" he asked.

you held onto his shoulders and chuckled, "yes, i've had sex before." which made something cold run through max's body, but it was quickly heated up once more when you sank down on him.

other men might had had you, but he was going to make sure you were his forever. no need to get stuffed with another man's cock, when you have max who, as he might add, can get into you quite easily. it was like you were made for him as you started to ride him. he pulled you into a kiss with one hand while he groped your behind with the other. he felt your core shiver around him as you continued to move up and down on his cock.

this only lit his need for you more. if you were so good on top, how good were you on the bottom, or at your side, or stuffed full of fingers and toys as max pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. he wanted you, he was mad for you. while he'd sometimes pull dirty tricks on the track, he had a whole other set of skills for you. because he could never hurt you on the track, too much of a risk for your safety. but he'd bruise your little pussy and cover your pretty soft breasts in large bites. he'd hope that cameras would get a good look at the pretty marks.

a lot easier to scare off men than to see a woman decorated with hickies. if he had it his way, you'd be wearing a little chain with his initials on it. or better yet, chubby little verstappen baby at your hip. the thought made something hot run through him. oh, that unlocked something in his brain as he was balls deep inside of you. he continued to leave a mess of bites on your chest as you continued to rut against him. your back arched a little when he bit one of your nipples.

"i need you to burn that bikini when we get to shore." he said between heavy pants as he grabbed your ass roughly and pushed himself up as much as he could go. his voice was a little strained from the intensity of it all.

"why?" you asked as you looked down at you.

"because, someone might get the wrong idea. and i don't want you getting hurt." he replied. it showed off far too much, too much of what belonged to him.

he rubbed up against you further. his cock poking some of your deepest parts, he wondered if he was the biggest you ever had. or if there was some other guy in another part of the world who took you apart better than him. unlikely. the way he watched you wiped drool from the corner of your mouth as you rode him made him excited.

during his time racing alongside you, he had seen you at euphoric highs of victory and deep anger when losing. but, this was a whole other look, you were far from focused. only really thinking about the cock, his cock, stuffing you full. guess there was no need to get you into his clothes and keep an air tag in your bad anymore, not when you had such a sweet look across your face.

he ran his blunt nails down the side of your thighs and felt you clench harder around his cock. which made sparks appear in the back of max's mind.

"pretty thing." he said. there was a softness to you that he wanted to sink his teeth into. especially the slight chub at your hips, next time he wanted to bite down on the skin and leave pretty bruises across it. you were just so beautiful. he thought formula one was for ugly men because they wore a helmet all the time, not pretty women who made max go insane.

you whined a little bit and started to feel yourself really get hot all over. his cock fit in you perfectly. while lust clouded your head, you honestly did think about throwing out the bikini you were wearing on board the boat. he kissed at your pulse point and you moaned, your pussy fluttered around him.

"i need that bikini gone before we get back to shore." he said.

"why, what will i wear?" you asked a little shy. you couldn't get back onto land with nothing on!

he grabbed at your ass once more and pushed you down on his cock, then held you for a moment. his lips were squared with yours as he said, "i got some extra clothes in the bedroom below deck." he knew that it was either red bull or verstappen merchandise. something that he had a lot of and could get wet.

while it wouldn't show off your pretty figure. the idea of you getting a bit chilled while heading 'home' and having your nipples poke through a shirt with his logo on it made him hotter. maybe he'll turn the ac up in the car on the drive home.

"i don't want anyone to see the bikini ever again. i'll buy you something nicer." he said as he thrusted up into you, "i don't want hungry eyes on you and neither do you. you're not a piece of meat." even though max wished to devour you, you were not meat. he'd say you were more like fruit. something refreshing and bright. something to crave on a warm day like today.

"i should have something in my bag." you said as you continued to ride him.

he held your soft hips and looked up at you, "no, no." he said then licked his top lip, "wear my clothes, they'll be more comfortable." and it'll hide your figure better.

you were the first to climax, and he managed to get you across the seat of the couch and fuck you from behind doggy style. perfect angle to make sure every last drop. you clawed at the faux leather and arched your back, your sweet noises against the sounds of the sea. your pussy clenched around him as he bullied the tip up against your cervix.

it was important for the two to get acquainted.

he finally finished inside of you and let out a sweet groan. he clenched onto your hips tightly and watched you go fully limp against the couch as you tried to catch your breath. he pulled out and gooey cum dripped out of your poor pussy. ah, it's okay. he simply pushed it all back inside of you.

with the amount he finished inside of you, you were at least 3% dutch now!

when max was finished with you, he knew that he was going to keep the little princess of ferrari. maybe eventually you'll wear the red bull logo across your pretty tits when you entered the paddock. or maybe better yet, the verstappen last name. but for now he'd simply have to stake his claim by shoving all his cum into your sweet cunt. after all it was a safer place to keep it compared to his own fist.

-

even with the start of the new season. his fixation of your cunt didn't end. so what you're on a different team, that didn't mean he couldn't easily go to the ferrari area and just get you to himself. when you win the first race of the season and sing along to your national anthem, max smiles in second. not because he is happy that you are winning.

but because he knew that his cum was dampening the front of your sweet cotton panties. you may have the trophy over your head, but he knew after this, he'd get another chance to sink another load in you. <3

a/n: is this anything? does anyone want more of this????

[screampied]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE choso x artist!reader in which they're dating for just a few months and reader has a sketchbook full of drawings of him but keeps it a secret fearing he'd think it's weird or something and then one day he finds the sketchbook and is absolutely flustered and think it's so endearing and showers reader with praise for their drawings (it could be a little nsfw by maybe making it so that there are a few sketches of choso shirtless/in bed)

- 🍧

꒰  warnings . . choso x fem!reader, touch starved choso, overstim, praise, cowgirl. mdni. wc: 1.7k

choso knew about your hobby, just not the particular filthy things you’d draw.

he’s been dating you for a few months and you always expressed your love for your hobby, he even let you draw him a few times. he’s always praised you and showered you with various compliments, telling you how talented you were.

yet one day, you end up leaving your sketchbook over his house—he didn’t mean to peek, but you did leave it wide open. coincidentally open to the most revealing pages.

his eyes widen ever so slightly…

scanning the thin lined paper with perplexed eyes, the sketches of him, shirtless, the more he looked through the pages, the more lewd they became. some were even intimate, shirtless and with the cutest yet embarrassing expressions.

his head fills up with fog just imagining you, his pretty artistic girl, sitting down to draw this—draw him.

“…you weren’t supposed to see that.” you suddenly spoke, running a hand down your neck.

choso turns to face you, and he’s so flustered, and maybe even a little hard.

“shit, ‘m s-sorry baby,” he mutters, his ears growing hot from the very sharp tips—as if he’s a deer in headlights from being caught. he closes your sketchbook and has a cute sheepish grin. “i was gonna drop it off to you but then i-”

“it’s okay,” you utter, sitting down beside him. he lets off a cute gasp once you sit right down on his lap — your back pressing against his thin tank top, re-opening your minuscule-like sketchbook. you flip towards the very back, to some of the drawings of him more unclothed, more…nude. “i was gonna tell you. about um these.”

his hard-toned chest was pushed up against you, and he feels all warm once you grab his hand, making him trace a finger across the lines of your drawing. “ever since two days ago, my drawings got kind of.. y’know, dirty.”

two days ago…

when the two of you had sex, choso was a mess. constantly whining in your ear….begging for you to keep praising him, wanting you to tell him that he’s doing a good job at pleasing you. so that’s where those facial expressions came from.

he was so embarrassed, even more-so that you were sitting on his lap. you feel something poke underneath you and you smile to yourself. “you remember too? you were so whiney, choso. it was always on my mind, and whenever i’m away i just drew my imagination.”

“why imagine when we can do the real thing, baby...” he whines — pressing a soft chaste kiss near your neck, cutting off your words.

he grows so needy, just the thought of you drawing him in such provocative dirty ways made him feel things he couldn’t even comprehend. you smile — feeling him snake two hands around your waist, the tips of his fingers ghosting against the thin pink fabric of your shorts. “i missed you. missed touchin' you.”

“did you?” you hum, placing down your pencil before turning your body to face him. he tries to speak but a cute whimper exits his mouth, and he’s already tugging at your shorts.

“yeah yeah,” he sniffles, and he couldn’t wait anymore. his patience ran thin — and not even seconds later, he yanks your shorts off, only to now being exposed in your pretty lace underwear. he starts panting, feeling you teasingly start to grind against his bulge. “…fuck,” he murmurs, running a finger down your slit, watching you quaver as a response. “looks like you missed me too, baby. ‘s wet for me already. nasty g-girl.”

his attempt at dirty talk was so cute — you couldn’t help but kiss the tip of his nose, making him grow even more flustered before you bring down his sweats, eagerly springing out his dick that was just aching to be inside.

it twitched as your hand wrapped around it, and he leans back against the wooden chair — a soft groan leaving his mouth, “could have been.. fuckin’ me the entire time instead of drawing me, baby..”

“stop whining,” you tease, sneaking a wet kiss on his mouth, choso’s pink lips tremble, so needy for more of your taste, he whines again the moment you pull away, you watch him slide his tongue across his lip, savoring your candied lip gloss taste.

you bite down on your lip the second his throbbing cock prods against your leaky hole, he feels all hot. a tad bit dramatic, it’s adorable, the way he looks like he’s about to cum already.

“y-you make me feel things, baby,” he stutters out, ripped and clenching underneath his top. you intake a single rickety breath — before slowly sinking down on his length. “been two days but felt like,” and he pauses to thickly swallow. “two years, f-fuck…”

“you know i drew this too, choso?” you whisper against his ear — softly nibbling on the tender skin and you’re just driving him crazy.

he grips down on your hips, shivering at the way you start to rollick your hips against him. “drew this exact position, baby. of me riding you, making sure to sketch the way your eyes roll back and…”

“t-tell me more.” he whimpers — giving your ass a tight squeeze, his jaw clenches and he feels so warm, thanks to your warmth. you squelched against his again and again, his thigh starts to bounce in retaliation.

you giggle at his needy enthusiasm and sheer curiosity, he’s stuffing thick inches into you that makes your brain spasm for a bit, so good….

“i always make sure to memorize you when i draw you, choso…” you hum, peppering a plethora of kisses up and down his neck, his pointed chin raises a bit and he moans at the sweet soft feelings of your lips making contact with his hot skin.

“memorize every inch of your body, so i can sketch it well,” you continue, and he squeezes more against your hips, he’s the one biting his lip now. his ears continue to burn up to the tips of it, and with the smoothness of your voice — he was sure he’d cum early, there was just no predicting with you. “…sometimes i let my mind run loose a bit, and sketch out the time when you and i are.. well…intimate.”

“baby y-you’re so perverted,” he moans, his eyelids grow heavy and he doesn’t want you to stop, his voice was so sweet — cloying with silk dripping from his tone, just listening to him made you even more soaked. “my…perverted girl,” and he brings you close to him before licking a stripe up your neck. “but ‘s okay…knowing that you draw such things about me makes me like you even m-more.”

you brush a thumb against his lips, staring into his eyes before humming as a response. “yeah?”

“y-yeah,” he whines as a response, nodding fervently. his grip on your waist never lessens, and he’s balls deep — each stroke, each rough smack that thwacks against your pussy makes him so hot and bothered. “wish i could draw you how you draw me, b-but you’re the talented one.”

“i can always teach you,” you purr — teasingly sliding a single finger down his chest. “i can be a model for you too, just for you choso.”

he stares at you, and his expression is so cute, his eyes glimmer and he has a face that basically says, ‘really?’

“w-woman, talkin’ to me like that… ‘s gonna make me cum so hard,” he sighs, his grunts were heavy, chest completely heaving.

something rang throughout his ears with the way you bounced and rocked against him. his head spun and he was so obsessed with watching your body.

the way it jerks against him, taking him fully every time, despite his girth deliberately stretching your pussy out to its fullest.

“i know, i know…..” you coo against his ear, choso’s nearly trembling underneath you he’s lost in a trace with the way you pepper such kisses all over his face — he feels all tingly from your affection, and the way you’re making him feel.

such low wolffish grunts escape his mouth and its sexy, a tiny pussy-drunken smile purses against his lips after you ghost your lips against his. “you gonna be messy and cum for me?”

“…yeah, only if you let me…?” he moans, and his tone forms into a cute question.

digging his fingers into the depths of your waist, your cunt clenches down on his numerous times, you can’t even count how many strokes it’s been. “baby..”

“go ahead,” you mumble sweetly, planting a single kiss near the tip of his nose, just that single gesture alone, he’s so weak.

choso whimpers, chasing his incoming high. teeth clenching in utter desperation and lust, he craves his release so bad. “you can be a little messy.”

“okay, okay….o-okay,” he hiccups, leaning in, pulling you close towards him, he’s nearly sweating and it hasn’t even been that many minutes, he shoots out a sticky load of such thick ropes inside of your pussy.

it makes you moan yourself, wrapping your arms around his neck, softly nibbling on his collarbone. “s-shit, ‘s much comin' out for you, baby…”

choso continues whine — pulling you lightly by the neck, bringing your into a wet deep kiss, and between kisses you hear him mutter out, “love you,” for the first time. his voice was so sweet, shaky and all — you blink twice, wondering if he really said it and he grows flustered immediately once he realized what he said. “w-wait, baby, i mean-”

“i love you too,” you tease — sitting up and pulling his twitching now flaccid dick out of you, he grows quiet at the wet sounds of his own cum seeping out of your cunt, his bottom lip quivers at you being in such control before you grab your sketchbook from the table, pressing a final kiss against his mouth. “do you think i should sketch this too for you to keep? all your cum just spilling out of me?”

“please,” he whines. “draw it now, baby. i’d put that in my wallet for only me to s-see.”

[moonbeamwritings]

"I hate you.”

The statement comes as Satoru leans against your door frame, your hand pressed to his shoulder as you try to get him to leave — to be on time for his train, for anything, just this once. It's a losing battle, trying to kick the lanky, lovesick sorcerer out of your apartment. He hovers in your doorway and lures you in with charming smirks and sweet little kisses. Just one more, he promises, all cheshire grinned and rosy cheeked, one more and then he'll finally go. And then one more turns into two turns into three.

“Oh yeah?”

You poise your hands on your hips. “Yeah.”

Without wasting a second, he takes your chin between his fingers, thumb ghosting along your bottom lip. His other hand curls around your waist. "Care to explain why?"

“You just-” You scoff, scrunching your nose in frustration, and when Satoru can’t stop the gooey smile from growing on his face, you rush to take his face into your palms, the pads of your thumbs resting in the curve of his dimples. “These. I hate these.”

“What?” A chuckle forces its way from Satoru’s throat, clipping his words as his skin warms. His hand abandons your chin in favor of finding purchase around your wrist, his thumb skimming your pulse point as it goes. “Use your words, angel.”

You groan, eyes rolling. “Your stupid smile and your stupid dimples. I hate them and I hate you. I just wanna-” And then, as if a switch suddenly flips, your gentle touch morphs into a pinch and then a squeeze, and suddenly Satoru’s cheeks are positively squished. 

“Whe- Hey. Ow, o- Baby-”

It’s not your fault, you think. It’s not your fault he’s so handsome, so damn near perfect it makes your knees weak. You’re not responsible for any acts of violent cute aggression, honest. And besides, if his little huffs and giggles are anything to go by, Satoru loves the attention – as usual.

"You–" you shake his head in your hold like a dog attacks a chew toy, "drive me crazy."

With bright eyes and puckered lips, Satoru asserts, "But you love me."

You let out an exaggerated sigh, like admitting what you both already know to be true is such a bother, but your hold on his cheeks softens just as your frustration melts into a shy smile. "I do."

Satoru's nose brushes yours and you can feel him press a smirk against your lips, his voice just above a whisper as he teases, "I knew it."

He kisses you then, stealing the breath from your lungs just as he did before this whole back and forth began. And when he pulls away, you can't help but remind him, "You're gonna miss your train."

Satoru guides you back into your apartment, shutting the door behind him with his foot. He pulls you close again. "I'll catch the next one."

[eddiesghxst]

finishing some human geography notes and thinking about eddie fucking himself into you as you lay on your back or tummy and he tells you to read the textbook or your notes out loud because he likes to hear your breath stop in between sentences. plus he gets to hear how smart u r. and then he finally just rolls over and tells u to shut ur big smart brain off and go dumb for once

i am a comm major with a psych minor for public relations but i love my history stuff!!! any of those subjects works for me 😖😵‍💫🐱✊

stink….im feeling things🥴

he’s got you on your tummy, a pillow folded under your chest so you can be comfortable as you read over your notes. his knees are pressed into the mattress on either side of your hips, warm fingertips pressed into the soft flesh of your hips and ass.

your cute little skirt is flipped up so your ass is on full display and eddie’s core twists with pleasure when he smooths his hands over your ass to spread your cheeks, groaning at the sight of your wet cunt gripping his cock with every slow thrust he gives you.

he’s hardly paying attention to what you’re saying now— he was at first, but now he’s too close to cumming, and when eddie’s close to cumming his brain is shot to shit.

it’s your hitching breath that causes him to snap out of the daze your pretty cunt has put him in.

he presses in deep, cock twitching at the sound of your small whine as you stumble over your words. he squeezes his eyes shut, gathering the little strength he has to force himself to pull out, softly patting your hip as he strokes his wet cock once, “alright, smarty pants,” you whine as he spreads your sticky folds apart, “sit up i want you to ride me.” he breathlessly says, giving you a gentle pat to your cheek before shuffling over to sit against your headboard. fluffy pillows and the dizzying scent of your perfume surrounds him and he has to squeeze at his sensitive tip to reel himself in as you clumsily turn over.

you’re fucked out and dazed when you settle over eddie’s thighs, a tiny ghost of a pout taking over your lips, “but… i didn’t finish the chapter.” you point out. your eyes are so glossed over from arousal and pleasure that eddie coos as he reaches out to drag you over his cock, fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he helps you slide your cunt up and down the slippery length of his dick, his ruddy tip catching your clit every now and then, and eddie thinks your noises are the cutest thing each time it happens so he keeps doing it.

“we’ll finish later, baby. need you to cum on my cock right now, can you do that for me?” he presses your hair back and thumbs the warm skin below your eye and you hum with a nod of your head.

he hums in approval and nods down to where your your crotches meet, “sit on it, sweetheart, take me all the way down.”

he’s gently guiding your hips as you lift up to line him with your entrance, softly caressing the skin beneath your skirt as you sink down, taking him inch by inch until your clit is pressed flush against the coarse hair on his pelvis.

eddie thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever set his eyes upon, and he can’t help it when he reaches up to push your flimsy cropped shirt up over the hills of your chest, palming at the soft and warm flesh of your tits and moaning when you wriggle against his hips.

“my baby’s so fuckin’ smart. gonna ace your exam, aren’t you, honey?” he coos. your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you nod, lifting your hips just to sink back down. he sighs, head resting against your soft pillows as he squeezes your hips. he curses before clearing his throat, “how about this,” he starts, “why don’t you shut off that pretty little smart brain of yours for a little while and let me make you feel good, yeah?”

god, you’ve never agreed to something so quickly in your life.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 3

part 1 | part 2

(tw: guns, accidental death)

Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”

“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”

“Steve!”

Steve starts to drive.

Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.

“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”

“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”

“You what???”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”

“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”

He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Huh?”

“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”

“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”

Ah, there it is.

Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”

“—Don’t talk about—”

“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”

“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”

“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”

She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Steve eases his foot onto the brake.

“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”

The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”

—

He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.

God.

Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.

Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”

“Love you, dingus.”

And then he’s alone again.

With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.

If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?

Not much.

Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.

It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.

Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.

Some fucking grand prize.

The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.

Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.

The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.

Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.

His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.

He didn’t walk away that night.

Didn’t even face death standing.

Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.

They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.

Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.

The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.

So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.

You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.

He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.

He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.

Kill yourself, dad.

Oh, wait.

You already did.

—

part 4

[demonic0angel]

Your Damian Fenton post gave me severe Uncles+Aunt Everlasting Trio vibes.

After the Moment TM of Danny being jealous about Jazz fixating so much on Damian, and everything had been said and resolved, I can imagine Damian being a little insecure, because his own Uncle looked like he didn't like him.

The goggles being a gift from Danny would be the turning point for the two of them.

Imagine, Danny in the lab, looking over notes from Frostbite about some experiment that he wanted to try out, maybe to take neutral ectoplasm and make it into healing ectoplasm, and he's pulling out his hair a little bit, because it's a lot all at once, and Damian wanders into the room, a little nervous, because while Uncle Danny already said it wasn't his fault, Damian still desperately wants his family to like him.

It's the "lightbulb moment" of a successful experiment that turns it around into Danny and Dakian being thick as thieves.

Danny bouncing on the spot, watching the mixture settle and change colors, and as he feels Damian approach curiously, in true Jack Fenton fashion, Damian gets to be squished against Danny's chest like a teddy bear while listening to his Uncle rapid-fire explain what just happened. It's actually pretty nice, getting to go limp and be swung around while cradled against Danny's chest, while Danny purrs with joy.

By the time he's set down again, Damian has a cursory understanding of what the experiment was, and also undeniable proof of love from his Uncle.

From there, Danny breaks out his old lab coat, from when he was Damian's size with the matching safety goggles, and has Damian put them on so they can take a photo together and send it to Jazz.

I can imagine Danny ruffling Damian's hair, giving him the Gremlin Smile and telling him "your mother's gonna flip if she catches you here without safety gear. But don't worry, your uncle's gonna make sure you know how to stay safe."

Danny gets whapped with the newspaper for using Lab Time as a bonding moment, but Damian is still clinging to him and constantly swishing the ends of his lab coat like he can't believe he's wearing it.

From there, by the time Danny, Sam and Tucker finally start dating, Damian has at least one patch in all his jeans, courtesy of Tucker, and he keeps stealing one specific t-shirt from Sam, because she left it in Danny's room and Damian thought it was the coolest thing ever, so he's going to steal it, like the gremlin Fenton child that he's learning to be.

Sam shows up the next day with a whole suitcase of graphic t-shirts for Damian to try.

Do you think the reason why Damian meets the Bats is because the Trio have eventually moved to Gotham, and Jazz+Damian are taking a vacation to go see his Aunt and Uncles?

The Trio take their nephew to a dog park so he can pet the dogs? Maybe also because they adopted a puppy from a shelter and whenever Damian is with them he HAS to be involved in walking the dog every day?

Regardless, one of the Bats see this mini-Bruce racing a dog through the park, and immediately have to go stick their nose into it, to great distress to Damian, and some seriously ruffled feathers from his Uncles, Aunt and Mother. Luckily, not Grandma and Grandpa, this time, because they're busy attending a seminar with Frostbite and his students, or there would be even more threats of bodily harm than there already were.

Danny, Tucker, and Sam were definitely a large part of his life since they babysat him when Jazz was busy. He bonded with them a lot over shared hobbies and interests (Sam with gardening and plants, Tucker with cars and machinery, Danny with ghosts and science and stars).

Honestly, when I thought of Danny being jealous of Damian, it was meant to be a moment between Jazz and Danny since Damian would've been like,,, seven when it happened. However, your idea is super cute! Danny and Damian do often do experiments and hang out with each other, but that's a post for another day 😌 the coat is specifically from Jazz since she gave it to him for his first birthday with them.

The reason why Damian meets the Bats is that the entire Fenton family went there to visit for vacation, but the real reason was that Jazz was planning to move there for work and wanted to take Damian with her, so she wanted to check it out first. Of course, shenanigans ensue as Damian makes friends with the Batkids (who are endeared by the tiny, mad scientist) and then eventually meets Bruce.

[machveil]

okay pookies!! I’m in a writers slump so I’m going to pop off some mini blurbs with Instagram links<3 because the words are not being written correctly for my wips [cries]🎀✨

Simon “Ghost” Riley

playing with his cat

admittedly, Simon is up at odd hours from bouts of insomnia. it doesn’t really bother him when his cat is up too, sitting in bed and flipping him around. it’s cute, more so funny when he flips his cat off and gets pounced on, not taking it seriously - one of the rare times he’ll let chuckle and crack a smile to himself

John Price:

pranking Price by telling him your tampon is stuck

John comes as soon as you call for him - what he wasn’t expecting was you telling him your tampons stuck. but John’s smart, he sees your phone in his peripheral and doesn’t say anything about it. he knows your pranking him, if it wasn’t obvious from your phone recording him and the way you giggle, well, “I know you’re cycle, love.”

driving around to see Christmas lights

John loves his dog, just a sweetheart. one thing his dog loves is seeing Christmas lights - John doesn’t really know why, but he’s more than happy to drive around so his puppy can see them all. it makes him chuckle seeing their tail wag, heater keeping the car nice and warm as they drive down a couple blocks

John “Soap” MacTavish:

bear hugging Johnny

you didn’t really know what Johnny was doing, you just knew you wanted to hug him. it’s out of the blue, catches him off guard in a way that has him asking if you’re okay - and you are. he doesn’t waste time, moving to scoop you up, hold you close and goof around. he had been organizing your books, just a little surprise

asking Recruiter!Johnny questions

Johnny didn’t want to be stuck recruiting people, but he somehow got picked to do it. what he wasn’t expecting was your question, “Are you hot?”. he wants to sputter out, try to be slick - respond with a, “Well, you can come find out.”, but he stops himself. he knows he’ll be telling the 141 about this, chest puffed up and a lopsided smile as he brags

showing off for the neighbors

Johnny is springy and flexible, his ass can dance. if you catch him while he’s on a jog he’ll flag you down and start flipping around. he’s a show off, it goes to his head how the neighborhood moms watch him. his show is for you, but he won’t turn down the ego boost he gets from others eyeing him up

“you know where the matter daddy is?”

Johnny’s a menace when it comes to the 141, calling Gaz for ‘help’. he can barely get the opener out without laughing, hitting the punchline takes a hot minute. Gaz can hear him sputtering on the other side, little bursts of laughter leaving him. it’s amazing that Gaz falls for the joke at all, Johnny laughing harder as he grips his phone

König:

playing with his cat

does König talk to his pretty kitty in German? of course he does, and he’ll goof around with them too. his favorite thing is pretend dialing on his cat’s toe beans. he’ll pretend to meow for his cat and voice the person ‘on the line’. totally straight faced, he takes business calls with his kitty very seriously

parenting his cat

sometimes being a parent is having human children, other times it’s cradling your baby kitty in your shirt while you make lunch. König is the latter, and he’ll always say how easy it is to be a parent. “Ja, she is a little thing. Here, I have photos—”, he carries printed photos of her in his wallet to show off, his favorite is of her swaddled in bed with her favorite blankie

walking his cat

König likes getting out, it’s natural for him. it gets a little lonely sometimes though… and boy is excited when he learns cat harnesses exist. weather permitting, he enjoys going on walks with his cat. sure, his kitty might wander into a bush here and there, but König will get them out before trailing down the block

[tojisun]

a cute idea just popped in my head!! imagine other bikers give simon an upside down peace sign (meaning ride safe/keep both wheelson the fround hehe) when his s/o with him. and she just waves her hand to others <3 they're the cutest couple 🥹

i definitely need a biker boyfriend in my life, yeah... that was all and now im going!! have a great day/night bestie <33 ☀️🌙

IM SORRY FOR JUST REPLYING TO THIS RN BUT AHHHH OH MY GOD THAT IS SO ADORABLE IM GONNA CHOKE!! thank u sm for sharing this omg ^3^

this ones short n told from outsider’s pov teehee <33

biker!simon mlist / star divider by @/plutism

ajax’s head turns when he hears the short honk from logan, the other whirling past the speeding sedan to trail beside ajax’s bike. he watches as logan brings his hand up, two fingers jutted out, and makes a pointing motion somewhere in front.

ajax follows logan’s signal, sitting up on his bike to see past the hoods of the cars, before catching sight of the infamous ‘ghost rider’ – a funny name given that the bike doesn’t remotely look like the harley that was used in the film, but one that stuck anyways. it was dubbed by a fan after seeing ghost in his first ever rally and ghost, with his sleek black skull mask and extra flare, took upon the name with pride.

but that’s not what logan was pointing at, ajax’s sure, because perched behind ghost’s bulk is a smaller figure, one whom ajax remembers hearing about – ghost’s darling girl. the man’s other half even when they’re polars of each other; sun and moon, or however else the two are described.

ajax isn’t really sure who started the rumour that the two are opposites because last time they all met, simon and his girl were equally… grossly in love.

finishing each other’s sentences, actions matching up even when they’re not looking at each other, defending each other’s honours type of grossly in love.

simon pulling his girl’s chair towards him because – and ajax thanks the otherman’s tact – it would have been too much if he just plucked her from her seat and plopped her on his lap type of grossly in love.

but ajax understands why – you’re simply such a beautiful person.

ajax’s not a shy guy – he’s sure shyness naturally gets replaced the moment one begins trusting themselves with their lives as they take on a bike – but there he had been, stuttering when talking to you. you had asked him how he knew of ghost and ajax swears it was like he almost forgot anything about himself. even how to ride a bike.

but you were so genuine with your interest in getting to know him that he felt so relaxed being around you; stutters getting replaced by the sureness in his voice, previous embarrassment getting trampled and replaced with comfort. ajax left that night feeling like he’s just been adopted as your older brother, lack of blood relations be damned.

logan’s light honking snaps ajax from his thoughts again and he turns to his friend, sending him a nod, before the two are revving their bikes to catch up to ghost rider.

when the two are close, logan splits from ajax until they’re flanking ghost on either side. it’s ajax who presses his horn button to catch ghost’s attention.

it’s laughably endearing how both you and ghost whirl your heads to turn to ajax, and while ajax can’t see ghost’s expression he’s blessed to see the way your glare melts away the moment you make eye contact with him.

one of your arm untangles from ghost’s waist to offer ajax an excitable wave. ajax raises his hand and points two fingers to the ground – ride safe! – hoping that you understand what it means, let alone know that it means anything.

ajax’s eyes flit towards ghost’s head and even though the other man is all visored up, ajax sees him nod back before returning the gesture.

logan honks on the other side of the pair and ajax watches as the interaction was mimicked. you give logan a happy wave as well and logan, the bastard, replies with a flying kiss.

ajax laughs when ghost flips logan off.

OH HOW ADORABLE THIS CONCEPT IS IM ACTUALLY SCREAMING AND KICKING MY FEET!! hope u liked this <33

adding more characters in this fun lore teehee >:)

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT SIMON SPOTTING YOU IN THE STOCKINGS.

cw: fluff, comfort, slighty suggestive, established relationship, reader described as having a kind of thick thighs and wearing a skirt, touching, kissing, mentions of being horny, hints on female anatomy, slightly posessive behavior, possible dirty talk, pet names, praises, possible lack of dialogues. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

you took them out only to take a couple of photos, they were already lying idle in the bottom drawer of the closet, bought once for some cute images, and eventually forgotten forever, so why not use them at least for cute photos in socials?

the black thin fabric felt pleasant and almost weightless on the skin when you put each leg in turn into the stocking, pulling each one up the thigh as carefully as possible so as not to tear and fixing them on your plush, thick thigh, adjusting them so that they did not curl up and also straightening them with your fingers convex, small bows matching the color of translucent fabric, slightly silky to the touch and looking charming in combination with a skirt worn with them.

you leisurely take your phone from the edge of the large bed, pressing the power button with your finger and swiping the touch screen to the side to open the camera, turning it from your face with a soft smile before pointing it at the long, standing mirror on the floor, coming closer to it and pushing a round rug nearby with an outstretched leg, allowing yourself to prepare a comfortable place and sit in front of the mirror on bent knees.

the soft pile of the carpet feels extremely comfortable under your knees as you wiggle your butt slightly, making yourself as comfortable as possible and allowing your thighs to appear even softer and thicker, causing the elastic at the ends of your stockings to slightly dig into your skin when you lift your phone camera to cover your face, but capture a charming image and cute stockings, gradually changing your position and stretching your legs with each frame, showing the semi transparent fabric and cute bows.

photo shoot captivates you so much that you become completely insensitive to the outside world, focusing on the phone screen and starting to flip through what you have already photographed in order to weed out unsuccessful shots in advance, not hearing how the door to the bedroom quietly opens after a couple of quiet steps in the apartment corridor, for the first time simon is greeted by such unexpected silence, making him only slightly worried before he finally notices you in front of the mirror, suddenly stopping in the middle of the room at the sight.

simon would like to cough, but noticing how you furrow your eyebrows and pout your lips in concentration, focusing on your business, he decides to silently watch, squinting his eyes in a smile and quietly taking off his mask, throwing it on the bedside table and returning his dark glance at you, watching as you lift the phone back up, probably to take more photos, and he seizes the moment to perform a small, innocent prank.

there were a lot fewer photos after deleting most of them, but you still had a lot of time, or so you thought until you pointed the phone in front of you and turned it on, practically jumping off the floor when you noticed the wide chest behind you and the slight smile on someone else's chiseled face, before you realize that it’s simon, especially when his hands rest on your thighs, as soon as he kneels behind you, hands slightly creeping under your thin skirt and squeezing the plush skin, digging his fingers into, and when you seemed about to protest, he purrs, more like growls, pressing his unmasked face into your neck, kissing

— “shh, lovie, continue to take your cute pics, yeah?„

you try to look at him over your shoulder, but you fail, only earning a small bite on your neck in response and feel how his muscular chest is pressing into your back more, so you obediently do what you were doing earlier, make yourself more comfortable on your bent knees and straighten your back slightly, taking pictures once, twice, while simon's bare, rough palms fidget on your thighs, squeezing the flesh, touching the stocking and running his fingers under it, which makes you whine, fidgeting again and lowering the phone, looking at him through the mirror

— “si.. stop.. you're — you're teasing me„

he grumbles, running his nose from your pulse point to the curve of your shoulder, lifting his gaze with a flutter of light eyelashes to look back at you, his hands slowly part your legs and you give in without the slightest tremble, the fabric of your skirt falling carefully into the empty space between your legs, blocking the view of your underwear as one of his hands picks up your phone and lifts it back to face level, continuing to knead your thigh with his free hand, running his fingers under your stocking.

possessively, you can feel the desire to demonstrate who has the right to touch you like that in his touches, when his fingers leave light pinkish marks, and his lips find the line of your jaw, kissing airily and softly, right in the moment when your face takes on a languid, slightly fuzzy look, eeverything from his mere presence, from touches that are dangerously close to where it pulsates in search of his touch, and he makes a couple of bold taps on the screen, capturing the moment, throwing away the phone immediately after, so that he can reach for your chin with his fingers, focusing your attention on his face, it takes just a few touches and you are already all dumb for him, falling into this abyss even deeper when he growls contentedly, thin pale lips slowly forming into a wide grin

— “good girl you are, now i won' you on the bed, no fricking clothes, jus' this cute little attribute, mhm?„

all that comes out of your mouth is a quiet hum and a slow, confused nod, his fingers snapping against the elastic of your stocking, causing elastic to touch your skin with a slight slap, adjusting it back into place before hauling you off the floor and into his strong arms with a slight flex of his muscles, the phone is forgotten on the floor, when simon arranges you on the soft sheets, watching your plush flesh jiggle as soon as your body falls apart on the softness under you, and your gaze meets his, ardent, languid, you look tenderly and with expectation, causing his cooing words as his knee hits the mattress

— “good, good girl, looking so pretty, and all for me„

maybe it's worth buying a few more stockings, since these ones will probably be in a sorry state by the end of the day ;)

[icyminghao]

of shy smiles and misunderstandings

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, college!au, wonwoo is so whipped word count: 1.8k

summary: wonwoo sees you at the library almost every day and falls head over heels for you. only, you seem to be avoiding him for annoyingly unknown reasons.

You’re here again, Wonwoo notes, pushing his glasses up.

You’ve been sitting at the table across from his in the library for the past three weeks after school, and he couldn’t help but notice you. You’d be nose-deep in your course materials while Wonwoo does some light reading for leisure, which has increasingly turned into light reading sessions where he not-so-subtly observes you instead.

He’s well aware of how much he’d be made fun of if any of his friends found out about his recent fixation on you, but he just couldn’t help but notice the way you’d scrunch your nose when you didn’t understand the material, or how you’d tilt your head and mumble things to yourself in order to try to understand whatever you were reading. It’s cute, he justifies in his head, then sighs. He’s whipped.

You look up at the sound only to meet his widening eyes right away, and he holds your gaze, frozen like a deer in headlights.

To his surprise, the corners of your lips curl up as you give him a shy smile before going back to your course material without waiting for a reaction from him. He silently thanks you for doing that as his whole face heats up, turning absolutely red at the small gesture.

He's so gone.

In the days after your little interaction (which Wonwoo flips over and over in his head as he stares up at the ceiling at 2AM in the morning), the two of you fall into a routine of softly smiling at each other whenever one of you catches the other's eye, and Wonwoo is getting incredibly anxious as he contemplates whether or not to take the seat across from you and strike up a conversation. For one, you don't seem to be creeped out by him, if your friendly smiles are any indication, but what if you find him weird after he does that? He'll have to avoid his comfort place forever, possibly switch colleges, maybe even move out of the country-

"Woah, Wonwoo, you literally look like you just saw a ghost!" Soonyoung's voice booms through the silent library, gaining the attention of the surrounding students, you included. He earns a few annoyed shushes, to which he sheepishly apologises for.

In a quieter voice, he nudges Wonwoo. "You didn't even look like that that one time we went to the escape room and you saw an actual ghost-"

Soonyoung trails off, realising that Wonwoo really isn't paying attention to him at all, instead looking dazed and staring directly at something in front of him. Or someone, Soonyoung realises, as he follows Wonwoo's line of sight only to see you smiling back at Wonwoo.

"No way, Wonwoo. Are you crushing on someone? Why didn't you tell me?" Soonyoung laughs in disbelief, smacking Wonwoo on the back. Wonwoo turns to look at Soonyoung, just noticing his presence beside him. Shooting a small smile at Soonyoung, he turns back towards you only to see that you'd directed your attention back to your work, though you look a little... hurt. Did someone say something to you while he was distracted? There’s no one in your immediate vicinity, so that was unlikely. What was the reason then?

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you sigh, hurriedly gathering your things. Much to his dismay, you don’t even spare Wonwoo a glance as you leave the library.

"Hey... are you okay?" Soonyoung asks, cautious. Wonwoo shrugs.

Maybe you're just having a bad day?

After that whole ordeal with Soonyoung, you don't sit at your usual table anymore. Wonwoo finds you hidden in a corner deep inside the library while he's browsing for new books to read one day, and if you noticed him there, you don't give any indication, much to Wonwoo's disappointment. He can't shake off the feeling that he must have done something, but he can't figure out what even after racking his brain for answers late at night when he can't sleep.

He figured you were never going to interact with him again, and resolved to move on.

That was until fate hit Wonwoo in the face with an opportunity to interact with you again, courtesy of a mutual friend. Mingyu, his friend from the track-and-field club, had invited him to have lunch in one of the college's cafeterias with some other friends. Having not seen Mingyu in at least a few weeks, Wonwoo naturally agreed. Besides, who can say no to this puppy-like friend of his?

Which gave him quite the shock of his life, as he walked up to Mingyu's table only to see you sitting amongst his friends. Your eyes widened too, like you weren't expecting Wonwoo to show up.

Mingyu clears his throat, snapping the both of you out of your daze. Wonwoo moves to sit down on the empty seat beside Mingyu. "Wonwoo, this is y/n, my photography club partner. y/n, this is Wonwoo, my friend from the track-and-field club. I reckon the two of you don’t need me to introduce you guys though, y'all seem to know each other already."

"Yeah, he did get a good laugh out of me," you snarkily reply, earning a confused glance from Wonwoo. A good laugh? When did he ever laugh at you?

Mingyu glances between you and Wonwoo, and Wonwoo sees his eyes light up in realisation. "Oh, so he's the library-"

"Seokmin, what were you saying about hummingbirds earlier?" you cut Mingyu off with a glare, turning to Seokmin for a response.

The lunch goes by swimmingly, though Wonwoo feels himself getting more and more fidgety as he thinks of ways to bring up what you said about him earlier. He has never laughed at you once, and he was determined to get to the bottom of this situation.

"Hey, y/n-" it was like you expected Wonwoo to reach out to you, because you immediately slam your hands on the table and stand up the moment he opened his mouth.

"Sorry, guys, I just remembered I had to meet Minghao to work on an assignment, like, five minutes ago! I'll see y'all!" you blurt out hurriedly before jogging out of the cafeteria.

"y/n and Minghao don't even share any classes together," Mingyu raises an eyebrow. A deafening silence looms over the three remaining men. Seokmin whistles shortly after, breaking the silence.

"So..." he starts, leaning in Wonwoo's direction. "you're the library cutie-turned-asshole."

Wonwoo's eyes widen, but before he can say anything, Mingyu beats him to it. "Why did you laugh at them?"

"What? I never did! Where is this coming from?" Wonwoo replies in disbelief, brows furrowing together in confusion. Why was everyone accusing him of laughing at you?

Mingyu recounts the day Soonyoung joined Wonwoo in the library, but Wonwoo realises that the details Mingyu provides are damningly different.

"They said your friend said something to you while looking at them and you guys started laughing," Mingyu explains, "come on, man. They were really interested in you, too."

"No- wait, what? I wasn't laughing. And," Wonwoo runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, "Soonyoung was calling me out on my crush on them."

Another silence ensues. Seokmin and Mingyu side-eye each other very obviously, earning a sigh from Wonwoo. "They misunderstood, didn't they?"

"Well, it's not too late to make it right, I guess," Seokmin replies, pursing his lips together, "they're probably at the library right now."

Setting a cup of a chocolate chip frappuccino down on your table, Wonwoo pulls out the chair beside you and takes a seat. You remove your earphones, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I asked the guys what you like to drink," Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "chocolate chip frappuccino with oat milk and lots of whipped cream, right?"

"Why are you here, Wonwoo?" you deadpan monotonously, sending a shiver down Wonwoo's spine. This was a completely different you from before all this happened, but Wonwoo supposes you had every right to be upset considering the misunderstanding.

"I... I wanted to apologise. But I wasn't laughing at you, I swear! My friend was..." Wonwoo switches to a lower voice, "teasing me about my crush on you."

"Huh?" you reply, leaning closer. "Your friend was?"

Wonwoo takes a deep breath, willing himself not to freak out at the close proximity between the two of you as well as what he's about to admit. "I... have a crush on you. My friend realised, and he was laughing at me about it."

You don't say anything in reply, and Wonwoo looks up at you in fear. What he sees next, though, is something he'll never forget. In front of him sits a very, very flustered you, your ears red and your lips parted in shock at what you'd just heard. He resists the urge to take a picture, and resolves to memorising the look on your face in his head instead.

"y/n?" Wonwoo waves a hand in front of your face after a while, and you snap out of your trance, somehow turning even redder.

"I- I'm sorry, Wonwoo. I thought you were making fun of me," you look down in embarrassment, playing with your fingers. Wonwoo nearly coos at the sight, resisting the urge to take your hands in his.

"It's okay, y/n, I probably would have misunderstood too," Wonwoo chuckles, and you look up, shooting him that soft smile he'd missed so much. "though, I did hear from a certain 6 foot giant that you were interested in me."

You squeaked in surprise, eyes widening. He could practically hear your thoughts of 'bloody murder' through your eyes, which Wonwoo presumes to be directed at Mingyu.

"So," Wonwoo begins, staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I think you could make up for the misunderstanding by letting me take you on a date."

BONUS!

Wonwoo pushes the door to the library open, walking in with light steps. He locates you with ease, seated at your usual table with your nose deep in your books as usual. He smiles in endearment at the sight, walking over to take a seat at the table across from yours.

You look up at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, meeting Wonwoo's eyes. You furrow your eyebrows as he takes a seat at the table across from yours. Heaving a sigh, you leave your seat and go over to sit in front of him.

"Why are you sitting here?" you raise an eyebrow, waiting for his response. Wonwoo simply laughs.

"Nooooo," he whines a little, much to your surprise. "go back there."

You shoot a confused look at him but comply, returning to your seat. Upon settling down, you look up to see Wonwoo gazing at you with a lovingly soft smile, and you can't help but beam at him in return.

Wonwoo suddenly rises from his spot, walking over to take a seat in front of you.

"Hi," he begins, "I like you."

"What are you doing?" you giggle, absolutely endeared by his goofiness.

"I'm doing what I'd always wanted to do before we first talked to each other," Wonwoo explains, taking your hands in his.

"Happy anniversary, love."

a/n: hey hey! this is my first seventeen fic ever hehehe i hope it was decent!! (wonwoo and the library together really has me feeling some type of way)

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