#bold pink houses

[glittergroovy]

[cellsshapedlikestars]

House inspo. Not sure if you saw Sarah Paulson's AD but her use of color and wallpaper which I loved and wanted to share it in case you haven't seen it yet.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NXrwxbxeqCE

For as much as I like doing home stuff, I don't tend to watch things like AD lol.

I don't know if those wallpapers/colors are specifically for me, but watching the bedroom part just really poked at something that's already been sort of bothering me - since the beginning of my house redo, I've been saying my bedroom will be pink. Like a muted pink, sure, but pink. I bought the wallpaper I chose because it had hints of pink in it to match.

Except now that I have the paint swatches on my walls, I can't help but think... I don't know if I actually want it?? The pink just seems so intense and this is where I'm supposed to relax & sleep... It doesn't help that my bedroom (& the living room just below it) is the biggest room in the house so that's A LOT of pink. Watching this house tour & how cozy & dark the bedroom is isn't helping this feeling.

I made a mockup of the shade of pink I wanted with the wallpaper I bought, but now I'm rethinking I might want blue, like the sample photos on the wallpaper listing.

[shawnrealty]

Will a Bright Pink House Sell? Insights and Real Estate Selling Tips

When you come across a house with bright pink walls everywhere, the first thought might be, ���Will it sell?” In my opinion, the better question is: How much profit will the seller lose due to the bold color choice? The house will sell eventually, but the seller may end up losing a substantial portion of the net profit. Just this morning, I came across an article about a pink home for sale. The…

[littlelamy]

rafe’s panty obsession

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. rafe cameron didn’t do infatuation—not like this, not this utterly consumed way where the line between obsession and desire blurred until it was just... madness. he had meant to just grab one pair of your panties, a stupid, reckless thrill to satisfy the darker corners of his mind. just one, and he’d be done.

that was five trips ago.

now here he was, sneaking back into your house again, his chest tight and pulse racing. it was the fifth time this week, and rafe couldn’t stop himself. not even a stern talk in the mirror about how insane this was had deterred him. it wasn’t like you didn’t like having him over; you practically glowed whenever he swung by, which only made it worse. you thought he just enjoyed hanging out at your place, enamored by your sweet personality or the way your laugh lit up the room.

and okay, yeah, rafe did like those things. but they weren’t the reason he kept coming back. no, the reason was tucked away in your hamper and drawers, lacy and delicate, scented faintly with your arousal. he was utterly hooked on the thought of you wearing them, of the intimate glimpse they gave into your world. and it wasn’t just about the panties—though, god, they made him lose his mind. it was you, the sweet innocence you exuded, that made his obsession spiral.

if only he knew you weren’t as innocent as you seemed.

you had noticed rafe’s peculiar behavior weeks ago. at first, you brushed it off as just him being rafe—arrogant, charming, always lingering too long in your personal space. but then, you’d caught him red-handed, fumbling with your drawer when he thought you were in the shower. he hadn’t seen you peek around the corner, hadn’t noticed the way your jaw had dropped when he slipped a pair of your panties into his pocket and left like nothing had happened.

it wasn’t disgust you felt, surprisingly. it was pure lust.

instead of confronting him, you decided to watch. you started paying closer attention to his movements when he was over, strategically leaving him alone in your room just to see if he’d do it again. he did. every single time. and you, instead of stopping him, started taking pictures. at first, they were innocent enough—just snapshots of him rummaging around like a guilty little boy. but then, the photos became something else. you began capturing the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the way his jaw clenched when he held your panties to his nose and inhaled like a man starved.

you couldn’t explain why it turned you on, but it did.

now, weeks later, you had a collection of photos hidden in your phone, and the sight of rafe in your room no longer shocked you. tonight, he was particularly bold. you had invited him over for dinner, and he had made some excuse about needing to use the bathroom. you knew better. quietly, you followed him up the stairs, camera ready, as he slipped into your bedroom.

rafe’s hands shook as he opened your drawer. he hated how addicted he had become to this. it was like his brain short-circuited every time he got close to your stuff. he grabbed a pale pink pair this time, the fabric soft and delicate between his fingers. his imagination ran wild—thinking about you wearing them, thinking about peeling them off you.

“you really can’t help yourself, huh?”

rafe froze. his blood ran cold, the pink panties still clutched in his hand as your voice broke the silence. slowly, he turned around, his face flushing a deep crimson when he saw you standing in the doorway, phone in hand, a knowing smirk on your lips.

“y/n,” he stammered, his voice thick with panic. “i—this isn’t—”

“oh, don’t even bother lying,” you interrupted, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you. “i��ve known for weeks, rafe. you’re not exactly subtle.”

his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. you held up your phone, showing him a picture you’d taken just days ago of him with your lacy panties in his hand, taking a deep inhale of the seat.

“i have a whole collection,” you teased, your smirk growing wider. “you’re not the only one with a little... obsession.”

rafe’s eyes darkened at your words. “what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice low and edged with something dangerous.

you shrugged, moving closer. “i’ve been watching you. taking pictures. at first, i thought it was just funny, you sneaking around like a kid caught stealing candy. but then...” you trailed off, tilting your head as you met his gaze. “then i realized i kind of liked it.”

his breath hitched. “you... like it?”

“maybe,” you said coyly. “but i also like idea of you pleasuring yourself to my panties.”

rafe swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. he felt trapped, exposed, but the way you were looking at him—with a mix of amusement and something far darker—made his blood heat. “so, what now?” he asked, his voice thick with tension. “you gonna tell me to get out? call the cops?”

you laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his stomach flip. “no, rafe. i’m not gonna kick you out. but i think it’s time we stop pretending.”

“pretending?”

“that i’m this innocent little thing you’ve built up in your head,” you said, stepping closer until you were just inches away. “i know what you’ve been doing, and i let you. hell, i wanted you to. but now, i think it’s time you earn what you’ve been sneaking around for.”

rafe’s mouth went dry. “what does that mean?”

you smiled, reaching out to pluck the pink panties from his hand. “it means,” you said, your voice dropping to a whisper, “you don’t have to steal anymore.”

his heart was a drum in his chest, loud and erratic, drowning out the world around him. your words hung in the air, daring him to cross the line he’d been skirting for weeks. your lips curved into a teasing smile, your gaze unwavering as you stepped even closer, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off you.

“y/n,” he murmured, your name barely audible over the pounding in his ears. his hands clenched at his sides, torn between pulling you closer and keeping some semblance of control.

“what’s wrong, rafe?” you asked softly, your voice dripping with challenge. “you were bold enough to sneak into my room. now you’re scared to touch me?”

his restraint snapped. in a swift motion, his hands cupped your face, and his lips crashed against yours. the kiss was messy, heated, and filled with weeks of pent-up frustration. your hands flew to his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as you kissed him back just as fervently. his tongue slid against yours, claiming, searching, as if trying to drink in every bit of you he could.

you moaned softly into his mouth, and rafe swore he saw stars. his hands roamed down, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. the pink panties you’d taken from him fell to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

when you finally broke apart, your breaths mingled in the small space between you. your lips were swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes sparkled with something that made rafe’s knees weak.

“guess you’re not as shy as i thought,” you teased, your voice breathless.

“you drive me insane, y’know that?” he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours. his thumb traced your cheek, softer now, though the fire in his eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“good,” you said, smirking as your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt. “because i’m not done with you yet.”

rafe’s grin mirrored yours, all sharp edges and wicked intent. “oh, trust me, neither am i.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills

[wrioluvr]

『shhh, not so loud! make me. huh?』 slutty sub yandere x gentle himbo darling, male yandere x male reader

note: thank u all the support on pt 1 ♡♡ was thinking about a scenario where slutty yandere somehow manages to convince his darling to actually fuck him after a lot of begging... even tho reader is scared his large cock will break him apart <3 pt 1

cw: he/him pronouns for reader, mentions of reader's ex-boyfriends, loss of yandere's virginity, implied violence

nervous was the way you were feeling as you made your way to your boyfriend's house. the two of you had started dating a few weeks ago, when after you'd let him suck your dick, he broke down crying, admitted to how desperately he was in love with you, and pleaded on his knees for you to own him and treat him as your personal fucktoy. frantically, you quickly assured him you would treat him as an equal in the relationship, to his slight disappointment. of course, he was ecstatic that you'd agreed to be his boyfriend, but you were his god, how could he not worship such a kind being? in your eyes, despite his rather.... overly submissive behaviour, he was kinda cute, so why not give it a go? if only you knew how deep his obsession truly ran...

and with an progression in your relationship, came a progression in intimacy level as well. the previous day, he had gathered up the courage to ask you to top him, which is why you were making your way to his apartment now. the current fear you were feeling was not for yourself, but for him, you worried that he would hurt himself trying to bottom. you were aware you were bigger than most guys... you wondered how to tell him you weren't too sure about the whole anal thing after all.

but what you did not expect to see the moment you opened the door to his room, was him on his bed on all fours, ass up, using his index and middle finger to spread his tight pink hole towards you. he turned his head around at the sound of your arrival and looked back at you with lust-filled, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. "baby! thank god you're finally here... please fuck me already, i've been waiting for hourssss......." his words came out in a pitiful whine.

your eyes widen at his plea. "woah, okay, let's slow down." quickly, you make him sit up, much to his confusion. he was already ready, so why were you hesitant?

taking his hand and squeezing it gently, you tell him what's on your mind. "okay, uh... i'm not too sure if i want to fuck you right now..."

"wha- but- but why? you promised!"

"i know i did, but i'm worried for you. i know i'm kinda... big, so i don't want to make you bleed or anything..."

at your reasoning, he can't help but whine in frustration. don't you understand? he doesn't care about how much it hurts! he wants it to hurt! his one wish is for you to completely destroy him! usually he'd back down, since he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with his desperation, but he decided to be a little selfish.

reaching over and fondling your crotch, he looked at you with a silent, horny plea in his eyes, then proceeded to sit in your lap and grind on your bulge sensually. he whimpered as your clothed dick got harder and prodded at his hole.

taken back by his sudden boldness, you let him straddle you. "hey... did you even listen to anything i said?"

"forgive me, darling. but i want this so bad. give it to me, pretty please?" he continues to roll his hips on your crotch, not sounding terribly sorry at all.

you sigh, realising you can't change his mind. "okay, just let me know if it hurts, and i'll stop immediately. alright?"

"mhm." but secretly, he'd moan in pleasure no matter how painful it was, relishing in it.

"at least let me prepare you first...?"

"i've been fingering myself for the past hour, you don't need to." he giggled, as he got back down on all fours on his bed, hoping you were proud of his forward thinking. "i want our first time to be special, so i'm fully prepared."

"wait... you're a virgin?" upon hearing your question, he turned his head back to look at you with an incredulous expression on his pretty face, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"but of course, i've been saving myself for you. i don't want anyone else using me." he bit his lip, making sure you knew how much he valued you taking his virginity. he suddenly realised how he'd completely forgotten to ask (or stalk to find out) about your past relationships. "what about you, darling? are you a virgin?" secretly, he was hoping the answer would be yes, but deep down he knew you were far too desirable for that to be true.

"nah. i dated a few guys before, but they broke up with me because they said i was too dumb." you'd never really thought about it deeply, but saying it out loud made you realise that it was rather embarrassing...

"how the fuck could they say that? you're so perfect and kind... forget about them, darling... just focus on me. you won't need to think about those ungrateful whores ever again." his change in tone caught you off guard, grip tightening around your arm. this was the first time he'd ever sounded genuinely pissed off. but this was quickly masked by his usual lovesick smile as he resolved to make you feel so good, your attention would forever be on him and him only.

eagerly, he helped you undress and tried not to blush at the sight of your naked body, even as he relished in the sight of the cock he had gotten on his knees for so many times before. you were confused at his reaction. "we're both guys, why are you embarrassed?" you were so silly sometimes. he was finally going to be made your bitch, of course he would be flustered!

with your cock teasing his entrance, he made his final invitation. "i want you to mess me up inside." he begged as he spread his virgin hole open, groaning in pain and pleasure as you pushed halfway into him. immediately, you looked up to his face in concern. "you okay? it's only halfway in..." "fuck, i said i can take it!" with that, he pushed himself onto your cock with a lewd determination, letting out an overly passionate moan as you fully entered him. instinctively, you shushed him, not wanting the neighbours to hear. "shhh! you're being too loud....." "make me." he retorts defiantly, trying to rile you up so you would be rougher. "huh?" fuck, he was really pushing it today. you really didn't want to, but he was making far too much noise. resorting to muting him forcefully, you reach for his mouth and clamp your hands over it, effectively gagging him. his eyes widen, not expecting you to take the bait, but he's in heaven. you can practically see the hearts in his eyes as he sluttily sucks on your fingers, all that's left is a series of muffled whimpers.

even though your mind was currently preoccupied with the way your boyfriend's squeezing your cock, you can't help but think about your exes after he brought the topic up. you knew you were a little dumber than most, but did all those guys really break up with you just because you were stupid? he seemed to sense your feelings and clenched harder, making you lose focus and grip his hips tightly. the thought of you thinking about your exes while you were inside him was horrible, he couldn't have that at all! "s-see, darling, my ass is much better than those sluts, isn't it- uuummfff." he could barely form words as he continued to ride you up and down, savouring the way your large length stretched his inner walls to their limit. it was quite the stark contrast - you were thrusting in and out of him at a tender pace, making sure you were never too rough (feeling a little guilty for muffling him so forcefully just now), but yet he was whimpering and writhing all over the bed, gripping the sheets whenever you hit his prostrate at regular intervals. he desperately tried to fuck himself on your cock when you slowed down, noticing his tears, begging you to start again. after a bit, you felt like you were about to reach your climax. "hey, i'm about to co-" "do it inside me." you didn't have time to argue as he pulled you closer into a hug, making you cum inside him, much to his delight. he adored the way you filled him up, feeling you pump load after load into his hole. he rubbed his stomach, wishing he could get pregnant with your child. but alas, he can't have everything. today was already a huge victory. exhausted, he collapsed into your arms as you stroked his hair, apologising for being a little rough and hoping his ass didn't hurt too much. he couldn't really focus on what you were saying as he just lay there and stared up at you affectionately. god, you were just perfect, weren't you?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

in the middle of night, as you slept peacefully, the boy you fucked a few hours ago had just finished going through your phone, his one objective being obtaining the names of your exes. "don't worry, darling.... i'll take care of those unappreciative bastards myself. no one gets to make you feel stupid." he whispers to your ear lovingly before getting out of bed. he hoped you wouldn't be too mad when you found out he killed them when you woke up. or maybe he did, just so you could punish him. ♡

[1d1195]

Hummingbirds

~5.2k words

From me: Based on a song of the same name--you'll see the lyrics in a moment. You'll need to suspend your belief a bit. I'm not sure everything makes perfect sense, but. Some of this story takes place through emailing and I didn't have a good method for this. So bold will be Harry's emails. Pink writing will be hers.

Warnings: angst, fluff, anger honestly just fluffy. second chance love

Summary: Harry has been angry for a really really long time. Only one person ever made him confront his anger.

“Eli, baby, we have to go!”

Harry could hear her from outside. He smirked, sipping his tea while he waited for Buddy to do his business. The air was crisp just like October should be. Decorative spider webs lined the front porch and the flower bushes in front of it. He was utterly pleased with his life. So completely happy.

“Mommy! I can’t find my dinosaur sneakers!”

“I don’t know how to spell it,” Evie frowned. “I’m going to fail!”

“Just do your best and practice, my love. I believe in you,” she assured as she zipped her backpack up at the doorway and stuffed her feet into the slip-on sneakers by the door. They make me feel old, she told Harry. They’re the perfect shoes for a busy Mum, he assured her. And I think y’look hot wearing them.

“Eli, honey!” She called back. “They’re here by the front door!”

Harry couldn’t stop smiling. “How lucky am I, Buddy?” He asked shaking the leash slightly. The dog turned to him and then tugged him around the yard looking for the right spot; totally unaware or unaffected that Harry had the best life there was to live.

“I-M-P-E-R-U-T-I-V-E.”

“Close, baby girl,” she smiled encouragingly. “It’s an A, not U.”

She looked miserable as she stepped off the porch. Evie approached Harry while his wife bent to help Eli with his sneakers. “I’m going to fail, Daddy.”

He chuckled at the little nine-year-old. Crouched to her height twirling the leash tight around one hand. He straightened her little hair bow on the side of her head, pinning her hair back to one side. He kissed her forehead. “Mummy said y’were close. Y’did a great job. Y’jus’ have t’remember there’s an A,” he reminded her and then pinched her cheek gently. “Like the grade you’re going t’get, right?” He winked at her.

Evie’s sweet eyes lit up with new hope. She turned to the pretty woman at the door holding Eli’s hand to usher him quickly out of the house now that his shoes were securely on his feet. “Mommy! Did you hear what Daddy said to help me remember?”

She grinned so beautifully; it melted him. The center of his chest felt deliriously warm. It felt equivalent to being snuggled under a blanket with her, warm and close while it snowed outside their house. The kids drinking hot chocolate at the coffee table and a movie playing in the background.

It was unbelievable she was all his. “What did Daddy say, Evie?” Eli held onto her hand tight while he jumped from the second to last step of the porch while Evie explained the A she was going to get. “Well, I guess you inherited your smarts from Daddy, hmm?” Which was unequivocally a joke. She was a hundred times smarter than him. Or at least it felt that way. But he loved her so much for never making him feel less than. She was good at that. It was impossible to feel less than in her presence.

She was good at everything. Her job, being a wife, but perhaps his favorite thing, she was a tremendous mother. Something he knew she would be good at, but not to the extent he witnessed on a daily basis. Eli hurried to Harry and Buddy petting the dog’s head and giggling when he licked his face. Harry kissed the top of his head and gave his little body a squeeze. “What smarts?” Harry asked.

She rolled her eyes as she finally approached her family. “You’re plenty smart, baby,” she shook her head with a gentle smile. The two kids that looked like the perfect combination of them went to her car and climbed into their respective seats. Harry wrapped his free arm around her back and pulled her to his side. He kissed her temple, nosing along her hairline.

“Not as smart as m’beautiful wife,” he reminded her. She laughed.

“I love you.” She tilted her head up for a kiss which Harry never let her wait for.

“I love you,” he grinned into the kiss.

“Ew!” Eli called.

“Mommy, let’s go!” Evie was eager to get to school and ace her spelling test.

“Bye Daddy!” Eli shouted. She gave his cheek a final peck and she headed across the yard to take their kids to school. “See you at my soccer game!”

“Hey kitten?” He called.

“Yeah?” She asked over her shoulder.

“M’a lucky man t’have you,” he reminded her.

She shook her head, laughed. “Me too, baby. Luckiest girl in the world to have you.”

The second her door closed behind her a swarm of hummingbirds fluttered so loudly into the yard. Seemingly out of nowhere. The noise of their wings was unbelievable. A dull roar. It was hundreds of the little birds, and she paid no mind to them as she started her car. Buddy didn’t care about the intrusion either. Even the kids were indifferent. “Are y’seeing this?” He called out to her. He blinked curiously when she didn’t respond. “What’s with all the—”

*

I had a dream last night / we were married in that house you always talked about / you were rushing to get the kids to school / packing their lunches, reviewing their spelling words / it was hummingbirds

Harry’s heart was beating like he had just finished a workout. His skin felt clammy. The sheets were wrapped too tightly around his legs. He groaned as his alarm vibrated to the same hum of the birds in his dream. The music playing alongside the vibration made him grumpy. “What the fuck?” He whispered and smacked the song off. He wished he could go right back. Did Evie pass her test? Did Eli score a goal?

Did she still love him the way he dreamed about?

*

Dr. Hendren listened to Harry’s dream but very much already knew the ending. It was the same as all his dreams with the house and the girl that he had been hearing for ten years.

“Harry,” the doctor said gently as he watched Harry on his screen. “Do you know what hummingbirds symbolize?”

“No,” Harry was grumpy. He always was after a dream that was so real so lifelike. It wasn’t fair. He just wanted her back. Wanted to see her. Wanted to know.

“Healing.” Dr. Hendren was quiet while Harry processed that. He worked his jaw, swallowing, and flexing it as he tried to get the words to come out. His body felt tense. Like he was trapped inside a box that was too small. That didn’t seem right. He didn’t feel like he was healed. He was still frustrated most of the time. Work was a minor distraction, and the loneliness was crippling at times. The only reprieve was dreaming of that pretty girl he knew so many years ago.

Why did it have to be her? She didn’t deserve Harry and his bad attitude. She already suffered through it for two years at a time when life should have been fun, lovely, sweet. They were kids and Harry was an ass. He never even said he loved her back then.

“Don’t you think,” Dr. Hendren continued quietly, and Harry knew what he was going to say. “You’ve been quiet long enough about what you want?” He shrugged. “Harry,” he tutted.

“I wasn’t a good boyfriend.”

“You were a kid.”

“She deserved more.”

“Then tell her. Worst case scenario, she doesn’t want to talk to you and you’ll have some closure and you can stop dreaming about it.”

Harry remained silent, looking around his empty apartment. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright. I’ll reach out to her.”

“Harry,” Dr. Hendren said quietly. “Have you thought about the best-case scenario?”

He shook his head. Thatkind of hope could kill him. But he knew why the dreams were so powerful these days. Why they were so steady and quick.

Woke up bleeding from my mouth / I bit my tongue right through / well I broke the habit / I guess that I’d had it not saying the things I need to

The following morning, he searched his inbox from an email he hadn’t used in ten years and found the address he never thought he’d email again after he broke up with her way back when.

But Harry wasn’t twenty anymore. He was trying to move on. Trying to fix things that should have been fixed a long time ago. He sat on the couch, typed out seven different versions of the message and clicked send before he could overthink it any longer. He slapped the computer shut and rubbed his hands on his pants. He took a sip of the tea he made hoping to calm himself and told himself that it was okay if she didn’t answer.

Hey. Long time. Not sure if you use this email. I know it’s been a long while. Hope you’re well. ... I’ve been thinking of you. And truthfully, I had a pretty realistic dream that you were in the other night. Nothing weird. Just my old self and back then and... I don’t know. ... How are you?

If she was working, she might just be getting settled. Or maybe out with a friend. Running errands. He refrained from imagining a little family that was waiting on her for dinner but reminded himself anyway that there were a million reasons she—

His phone lit up on the table beside the computer and his heart skipped a beat.

Harry Styles. As I live and breathe :) I’m well! How are you?

That little smiley face made his heart ache with adoration for her. He could picture her pretty face smiling. But she answered.

Good. Yeah. I… I’ve been going to therapy regularly. Finally had to and... my doctor and I have discussed a lot of things. You were one of them. I just... wanted to chat with you. I’m sorry, this is so out of the blue and weird.

No! Not at all, Harry. I’m glad you reached out. It’s really nice to hear from you. Therapy? That’s amazing! Do you like it?

I’m a work in progress.

Aren’t we all? :)

He smiled feeling relieved. Even just reading words on a screen made him feel at ease. He could practically hear her sweet, encouraging voice.

What are you up to? Do you live in state still?

Yes! I actually just moved down the road from the college. I’m a guidance counselor at the local high school.

That’s lovely. I’m not surprised you accomplished your goals. Your students are lucky to have you. Are you doing okay? It has to be draining.

A lot of the time yeah. But it’s rewarding as hell. You know I love kids, and I love being able to help.

Harry wondered if it was possible to love her more than he ever had before.

There’s a shadow on my shoulder / always whispers in my ear / that I’m so angry all of the time / I should be alone another year / I didn’t say it how you needed it / must have written it down a thousand times / all the things I would scream at the top of my lungs / if I wasn’t so busy saying I’m fine.

Harry had a habit of not saying what he was feeling. He bottled so much of it up and hid it from the rest of the world. Even people he loved. When he was dating her back in college, he kept a lot hidden and exploded when she asked him simple questions about himself. Trying to understand him and why he was angry all the time. Her willingness to look past it, try and help, and just continue to be kind to him made him angry too. It was constant, draining. It was like he couldn’t help himself.

There was a tiny voice in his head that told him he was too angry for her. She deserved someone lovely and sweet. Someone who would talk to her and tell her things. Be the person she deserved. Because despite everything, Harry loved love. It was nearly impossible for him to show it back then. But he did. He wanted to love her the way she needed.

But he was so busy being angry and bottling his emotions he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t love her the right way.

It was so unfair to her and looking back on it made him feel like a proper ass.

So, he was grateful for the email communication. He couldn’t imagine having this conversation with her about all this in person. They chatted for days. Catching up on things, reminiscing. Their email chain was up to 100 something messages. Some messages were long. Harry chatted about his family and she about hers. There were updates on work. On friends they still spoke to and no longer did. The conversation continued over the course of a little under a week.

But the most shocking details came from her.

I mentioned I moved... my ex-fiancé broke off our engagement. Don’t feel too bad for me, it’s actually a relief in hindsight. Something I’ve been trying to figure through. It’s why I know that anything you feel you did wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it was. There’s far worse relationship enders than a little bit of anger.

Jesus, I’m so sorry, kitten.

Well, isn’t that a sweet name for sore eyes :) Don’t be sorry. It’s good. I have this cute apartment to myself and it’s for the best it happened now before there were too many variables to consider...like kids or a house or something, you know? I’m definitely sad. But he wasn’t the one for me at the end of the day.

Sorry for dumping all that on you. It’s not really fair given our past. I think a lot of my friends disagree with my choice on this to let him go so it’s nice to just tell someone non-judgmental.

Harry felt angry the way he used to. The way that made him want to scream and he felt the desperate need to message Dr. Hendren because he felt out of his depth. All he said was sorry. How could she feel he was non-judgmental. He was judgmental. He was judging the fuck out of the piece of shit that broke her heart and made her sad.

But he was no better.

The man is an idiot to lose you. I know from experience.

:) I have to head to bed, there’s a big pep rally tomorrow at school so I have to have my brain ready for chaos. Sleep well Harry.

Good night, kitten.

He reread those messages over and over and right before he was going to fall asleep, his phone lit up with one more message.

You’re not an idiot by the way. He might be, but you, Harry Styles are not.

So of course, he dreamed of Evie, Eli, and the sweet girl at the other end of his emails that night.

And hummingbirds.

Thousands of hummingbirds.

*

Most of their messages were short.

I’ve been going to therapy for three years now.

That’s wonderful, Harry. Really. Do you like it?

Yeah...it’s hard.

:( Yeah... It really is. Do you like your therapist?

Yeah. I’ve had him the whole time.

Yeah? That’s good. I’m... proud of you. I don’t want to be weird about it, but I know you were angry. Really angry. It wasn’t good. You didn’t deserve that. I’m glad you have someone to help you work through it.

...You were so nice to me. When you shouldn’t have been. I didn’t treat you right.

You were wonderful, Harry. We were practically kids. If our relationship had any faults, it was because we were too young. I don’t regret a second of time being with you.

His heart skipped a beat. He felt that frustration from back when they were young, and she was so understanding but it didn’t make him grumpy or feel inadequate. All he felt was a sense of belonging. Something he probably would have felt back then if he could have gotten out of his own way. She was willing to look past it then as she was now.

You’re much too forgiving. He wrote. Because old habits die hard.

You weren’t fine, Harry. You didn’t know. We didn’t know what we were dealing with at that age.

Harry hadn’t a clue what he was dealing with. Did he even know now?

Can... can I give you something?

Give me something?

Yes. I... I can bring it to your apartment or to school or we can meet, I just... I’ve been trying to let it go but I think... I think my dream was reminding me that... there’s more to you. More I need to do for you.

Sure, if you think it will give you closure.

God, Harry wanted anything but closure.

Just to clarify: I don’t think you owe me anything.

I kept a lot hidden from you. I held back and it wasn’t fair. All you wanted was to love me and I wouldn’t let you.

It’s a vulnerable thing, Harry. To be loved. You didn’t do anything wrong. We were just young.

But... you knew I wasn’t fine, and you tried and... I just wasn’t fair to you.

You were fine, Harry. I promise. Bring me whatever it is that you need to give me to make you believe you did what you could with what you had.

*

Her apartment had a wreath on the door. It was beautiful with an array of burnt orange and red flowers and green vines. The perfect fall wreath. Beside the door were three pumpkins of different sizes. If he didn’t have her address, he almost thought he would know it was her place. He looked at the mat in front of the door that said welcome, and he wondered if there was any other place where someone actually meant it.

Swallowing, he took a deep breath and knocked. After a minute, the door was out of the way.

At 18, Harry thought she was beautiful. The most beautiful girl he had ever met. During the time they dated, he thought she got more beautiful every second. Apparently, he was right because the woman before him somehow got exponentially more beautiful. Her smile was so inviting, so warm. Like he was seeing an old friend. “Hey Harry,” her voice was sweet. Not an ounce of distrust, frustration, nothing. Their breakup was ten years ago. Not a degree of anger was left.

Harry wasn’t angry either. Not anymore. But if she had broken up with him and he hadn’t done all this work to better himself, he would have been. He didn’t know how she could be so sweet after all she went through.

“Hi,” he swallowed. “I don’t want t’keep you. S’really nice t’see you,” his dream didn’t do her justice. Sure, she was beautiful especially with their imaginary kids. Simply stunning. But this was more. This was the beautiful angel he loved so much even when she wasn’t his to love.

“You’re not keeping me; do you want to come in?” She shifted to open the door wider. “I can make some tea. Or we can order pizza?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I jus’ want t’give y’this,” he handed her the shoe box.

She opened the lid. “Well, you know I won’t say no to shoes,” she smirked.

As much as he wanted to laugh at her joke, he felt like he made a mistake. The box was out of his hands. Not because of what was in there but because of the fear of rejection and being so vulnerable. Feelings of inadequacy were currently circulating through his bloodstream. “Um... s’not—”

“What is this?” She asked, tilting her head. He swallowed, pinched his lower lip between his fingers and took a deep breath.

“S’letters.”

“Letters?”

“I wrote t’you.”

“Me?”

He took a deep breath. “M’sure y’know m’not good at saying what m’feeling.”

She replaced the lid, leaning against the frame. “I feel like I’m a little lost here, Harry.”

He nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t fidget or reach back out to take it from her. His mouth felt dry. He wished he had taken her offer for a glass of water now.  “I know y’said y’thought we were fine. But m’not happy with how I treated you. Y’were an angel. The perfect girlfriend and I treated y’unfairly a lot. I guess I’ve really held onto that and some of those letters are old but when I hit low points I thought ‘bout what y’said back then. How I wasn’t on m’own. I was allowed t’be angry. But I had t’let people in. All that. I wrote t’you a lot over the years. M’therapist said it was actually one of the smartest things I’ve done on m’own,” he chuckled. “I want you t’read them. When y’have time. I guess. I don’t know,” he cleared his throat. “This is really scary,” he admitted.

“Okay,” she nodded encouragingly and reached out to his forearm. She squeezed it reassuringly. It was only a touch on his arm, and he felt so good feeling it. He knew it was her training kicking in. Like a broken, beaten student at her office door. “I can do that,” she assured him. “Do you want me to text you about each one? Or just a summary of all of them? Or do you want me to not say anything?”

He looked at his feet. “Fuck...” he whispered to himself. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” she took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she smiled. “I’ll start reading tonight and I’ll decide in the moment. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

He nodded, looked at his feet. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“S’a lot.”

“I enjoy reading, Harry,” she grinned and moved her hand to his upper arm and soothingly rubbed up and down. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Of course he did. There was no one else he really did. He nodded, feeling nauseous but still lighter. “I’m gonna go now,” he swallowed.

“I’ll email you,” she assured him with a smile and headed inside.

*

Like it grows old real fast / how much you can love and not get it back / were we too attached? / It’s a shame how often goodbyes last / I thought we were better than that / I thought I was stronger at last.

The knock on the door was hurried, eager. Insistent on being heard.

At first, he felt frozen in the kitchen cleaning up the dinner he made himself and placing the dirty dishes in the sink. Maybe he imagined the knock. Maybe he was just dreaming again. Plus, she said she would email right? This wasn’t something to feel nervous about.

But the flutter of knocking continued. He hurried from his frozen position as the rapid taps hit the wood. He knew. His gut telling him exactly who was on the other side of that door. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed before pulling it out of the way.

“You bought me the house?!” She shrieked.

Harry dipped his head to avoid her eyes. “Yes.”

“Harry Styles, what the fuck?!”

He felt sick. “You hate it?”

Her eyes were red, glossy. Not what he expected at all. But why wasn’t it? This wasn’t normal. After a breakup of her own where she was sure she was going to marry the guy. Harry appeared out of nowhere. Telling her that he had a dream about her, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about her.

She covered her mouth and shook her head. “Harry,” she croaked.

“I’m—"

“You can’t buy me a house! We’re not even... Harry. This is insane! You have to see that!”

He shrugged. “I guess... but... I don’t know, kitten. I think about you all the time. I see this house in my sleep. I see our life in m’dreams every night.”

She was wearing only socks. Like she didn’t even have time to put on shoes. She held the paper in her hand wrinkled like she had read it hundreds of times already even though he had only given it to her the night before and he just knew which one was in her hands. She cleared her throat and read the date from ten years ago before she read the remainder of the letter.

To the resident(s) of 1278 Chestnut Street

My name is Harry Styles, and I am a college student in town. My girlfriend and I walk by your lovely home every day when we head to our favorite coffee shop after class. We love your home. Or I should say, my girlfriend LOVES your home. She claims it’s her dream home. The porch, the yard, the location... everything. She even loves your driveway. Every bit of your house is part of this fantastic dream she has of the life she wants in the future.

I don’t know if I’ll be with her forever. I am... working on myself. I’m not very good at all this relationship stuff. Especially when it comes to her. Quite frankly, I think she deserves way better than me. But on the off chance I am lucky enough to keep her in my life for as long as I would like, I want to make her dreams come true. She deserves that. She deserves every single one of her dreams to come true. She is the kind of girl that deserves every good thing that can possibly be provided for her.

If you ever find yourself selling, would you please consider emailing me first? Of course, if you have family that you plan on giving your home to, I understand. I can’t even promise I’ll be able to afford it, but I’ll want to know. If only to pass on the message to her somewhere down the line. She deserves the chance to have all her dreams come true.

I’m not sure where you are in life or if you have ever been in a relationship like this one. This girl is so special. She’s an angel. The kind of love that even a movie couldn’t show, or a book couldn’t write. I’m lucky to have her right now and I don’t know why she’s with me. I don’t know why I’m even sending this crazy letter other than I know I have to try. Even if she’s smart enough to leave me, I want her to know her dream home is available. Somewhere down the road. Even if we’re not on the same road anymore. That’s what she deserves.

I’m sorry to bother you like this. I hope you can understand what love can do to a guy in college with a girlfriend who is LEAGUES above him. Thank you for taking time to read this and I hope you continue to enjoy your lovely home.

Sincerely,

Harry

Her voice shook as she read it. “You sent that when we were in college.” He nodded, swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at the packet stapled together. “They emailed you,” she whispered. He nodded again.

“Dear Harry. We got your letter. When the time comes. We’ll be moving closer to our children. They’ve never expressed interest in our house the way you have. My wife and I met in college and believe me, I know a little something about finding the girl of your dreams. It’s nice you’re working on yourself. You deserve the life that fits this house too. We hope it’s with the girl that is leagues above you (although, we imagine she’d think differently). We’ll be in touch. The Andersons.”

Harry watched her flip the page as she made eye contact with him briefly before returning her gaze to the paper in front of her.

“Dear Harry. We hope life is treating you well. That you’re working on yourself, and your girlfriend is still around. If she’s not, we hope you’re not being too hard on yourself. We wanted to let you know we’ll soon be moving to a retirement community close to our son. We want to have you (and your girlfriend) over for dinner if you’re available. Let us know.”

Harry knew what was coming but he was still terrified. Why was she here? Barefoot. Reading the letters to him. What did she think.

“Dear Harry. It was so nice to meet you in person. Here is the contract we discussed. See you soon.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Kitten,” he whispered.

“Dear Harry. We hope you get her back. Enjoy your home. Never stop giving out your love. The Andersons.”

She was teary, swallowing hard. Her hands were shaking as she held the papers in front of her. “You bought me a house.”

He nodded. There was a pause. “M’sorry I took so long.”

She dropped the papers and launched herself into his arms. He stumbled back at the impact. Her arms around his neck, her feet barely touching the floor as she tucked her face into his shoulder. “Harry,” she whimpered. Harry sighed, wrapped his arms tightly around her, one at her waist, the other hand cupping the back of her head.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” his voice felt raw. Like he was the one that was crying and shaking. Not her.

She sniffled and nodded. “I know,” because she did. She read every single letter. Watched the date change but one thing never did and that was the love she felt in each letter.

“M’so tired, kitten,” he croaked.

“Of what, baby?” She cupped his face. The emotion on his face was tender and nothing like she remembered from ten years prior. Her thumb soothingly rubbed his cheek.

“Life without you,” he closed his eyes tight. “This house is yours I want nothing more than for you t’have it, but I want it t’be ours.”

She sniffled, ducked her head briefly as she glanced around. “You decorated it for Halloween,” she whispered.

“You would have done better.”

She snorted. “Harry...”

“If this is the house that makes you happy then I want it jus’ as much, kitten. But you’re my home. You always have been.”

“I don’t know what to say Harry,” she whimpered.

“Say yes.”

“Harry...” she whispered.

“Please, I’m so tired of loving and loving and never feeling that way. I know s’how I made y’feel in college and y’jus’ dealt with it. Y’jus’ wanted love and I didn’t give y’what y’needed. But m’ready now. M’so ready t’do whatever y’need t’love you the way y’deserve. The way y’always deserved.”

Not for the first time in his life, Harry prayed that if this was a dream, he would never wake up.

He never thought he would hold her again. Never thought she would be in the house she always wanted. Or that she would know he was sorry for how he was back when he was an angry kid.

Perhaps most importantly, he never thought he would feel her lips on his ever again.

--

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[burreauxsworld]

Ours To Keep | Joe Burrow

Smut/18+, Angst, Fluff

Takes place at the beginning of the 2023-2024 season. Reader is Joe’s assistant, and they are really good friends, whose lives are about to change forever.

Shit. This was never supposed to happen. This never should have happened. None of this should be happening. Your breathing picks up as you stare down at the the plastic stick in your hand. The two bold pink lines staring back at you, taunting you. Punishing you for getting intimately involved with, Joe Burrow, your boss. Your heart felt as if it was going to burst out of your chest.

Fuck. Joe. You scrambled around, dropping the stick onto the bathroom counter and bolted toward your bedroom. You’d lost track of time. You have to be at work in 15 minutes, and it’s a 30 minute drive. He shouldn’t be too mad. I mean you guys are friends, maybe even a little more. Definitely a little more after today.

Let’s go back to how this whole thing happened.

Flashback / January 2023

Your tires came to a screeching halt in front of Joe’s mansion. After a frantic call, where Joe was damn near crying into the phone begging you to come over, to say you were worried would be an under statement. He gave you no insight on what you were about to walk into. You slammed your car door, and shivered. Regretting only wearing leggings and a long sleeve sweater in the cold Cincinnati weather. You rushed toward the door, and entered the house with your spare key.

“Joey?” You called out. The place was trashed. Glass broken everywhere, cushions from the couch thrown around the room, wine stains on the white carpet. “Joe?!” You yelled, a little more frantic, moving toward the living room. Joe sat in the center of the living room, on the floor. His head in his bloody hands, and an empty bottle of grey goose laying next to him. “Joey, what happened? Are you alright?” You frantically ask, kneeling down in front of him, just nearly missing a piece of glass.

He looks up at you, and your heart nearly shatters. His eyes bloodshot, and cheeks stained with tears. “Oh, Joey” you frown, pulling him into a hug. It had been a rough few months for Joe. After finding out his girlfriend of 5 years, fiancé of a few months, had cheated on him. She was gone that night, and you were there to pick up the pieces within an hour. Joe was distraught. You’d never seen him like this in the 3, almost 4 years you’d been working for him. Usually he was Joe Cool, everything just rolled off his back, but this was different.

If anyone knew Joe, they knew how much he loved Olivia. Hell, he would’ve went to the ends of the earth for her if it would’ve made her happy. You actually almost lost your job in the beginning because Olivia had gotten jealous, but the two of you ended up becoming great friends. You often had dinner with her and Joe on late work nights.

So when he discovered the messages in her phone, his heart was broken. Completely shattered. A big fight had happened, and Olivia was gone that night. You’d received a number of text messages from her before Joe even called you, telling you how sorry she was and she hoped you’d stay friends. That went out the window as soon as you heard what happened.

“I tried. I really did,” Joe slurs, motioning to the empty bottle next to him. “It’s okay. Let’s get you to bed, I’ll clean up” you told him, attempting to help him to his feet. However, his 6’4 stature compared to your 5’1 stature didn’t make it easy. “You don’t have to clean up. I’ll hire someone in the morning” Joe slurs, and you scoff. “The last thing you wanna deal with is people you don’t know. I’ll take care of it” you tell him. “Alright, hold onto the railing” you order, bracing yourself for the journey up the stairs.

“Joe, hold onto the railing” you scold, when he reaches his other pen toward you halfway up the stairs. “Joseph, you’re going to make us both fall. Put your hand back on the railing” you order, and her frowns but does your bidding.

After what felt like an eternity you made it to his room, him falling onto his back on the soft mattress. “I’m gonna go clean up. You get some sleep okay? You have practice tomorrow” you told him, knowing he was gonna feel like absolute shit in the morning.

“Don’t go. Please stay with me. I don’t want to be alone” he pleaded, and you shook your head. Knowing this wasn’t what he needed right now. “You need to sleep-“

“Please stay. I’ll give you a raise”

“Joe, I don’t need a raise” you argue, and his pouty face makes you crack. “Fine, I’ll stay. But only until you fall asleep” you told him, kicking your shoes off.

End of flashback

It wasn’t only until he fell asleep. You ended up falling asleep too, and woke up tangled in his limbs the next morning. And you were correct, he did feel like absolute shit and practice went horrible that day. Nothing sexual had happened that night, just sleeping. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you were in his bed again, only this time, no sleeping happened.

Flashback / February 2023

You don’t know how this happened. One minute you’re in the living room having dinner and watching a movie. The next, you’re sprawled out on his bed with your face shoved into his pillows and your hips up in the air. Skin slapping skin, your moans, and his grunts fill the room. Your loud moans muffled by the pillow.

Joe wraps your hair around his hand and pulls your head back, hard. “Wanna hear you,” he grunts. He slaps your ass with his other hand, and you let out a loud moan. “Fuck, Joey! Right there!” You cry out. “Yeah, right there? Fuck you’re taking me so well, baby” he groans, slapping your ass again. “This pussy was made for me. Fuck” he grunts.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” You whine loudly. “I’m gonna cum so hard” you grit your teeth. You gasp when his free hand reaches around to toy with your clit. “Cum for me baby. Cum all over this dick”

You yell out his name like a mantra as you come undone. He wasn’t too far behind you, grunting loudly as your walls squeezing him hard. “Fuck baby” he moans. “Milking me dry” he taunts, smirking while he unravels your hair from his hand. Weakly, you fall against the mattress, and he drops down next to you. Both of you trying to catch your breath.

“What just happened?” You ask, your voice to shaking from your orgasm. “I don’t know. But I’m not mad at it” Joe says, letting out a breathy laugh. “Joe, this can’t happen again,” you murmur. “It’ll complicate things” you conclude, looking over at him. He nods in agreement.

“We just act like it never happened,” Joe confirms, and you agree.

End of flashback

But it did happen again. It happened a lot more. It’s now July, and the two of you haven’t stopped fooling around since the first time. Now it was coming back to haunt you. What the fuck were you gonna tell Joe? You sigh as you pull into a spot outside of Paycor Stadium. Conveniently, right next to Joe’s Porsche.

Quickly getting out of your car, you rush toward the door. Practice started about a half hour ago. You hoped Joe wouldn’t be too upset with you.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Gabby, Ja’Marr’s assistant jokes as you walk into your shared office. “Don’t worry, he’s not mad. More worried than anything because you’re never late. Why are you late, by the way?” Gabby asks, as you set your stuff down. “Lost track of time. Took an everything shower this morning,” you lie, and she smirks.

“Who’s getting the goods?” She questions, and you roll your eyes. Pulling out your phone, you make an online appointment with your gynecologist for tomorrow. Maybe the test was a false positive, doubtful, but you could hope. “No one. Just needed an everything shower” you told her, laughing slightly. “Are you okay?” She questions, noticing you seem slightly off.

“Yeah, I’m good. Being late to work throws off my entire day” you lie, and thankfully she believes it. Her phone chimes, and she sighs. “Duty calls. See you out on the field” she says, before leaving the room. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Hiding this was gonna be harder than you thought.

You began to pull out your laptop when you hear a light knock on the doorframe. “Hey, you okay? You’re never late” you look up and make eye contact with Joe. “Yeah, I’m all good. Just lost track of time while getting ready. I’m sorry,” you apologized, and he raised an eyebrow. “You never lose track of time. Are you sure everything’s okay?” He asks, stepping into the office with concern written on his face. “Joey, I’m sure. Just more mad at myself than anything. I swear-“

“You’re lying.” He says, eyeing you. “Excuse me?” You ask, feeling slightly offended. “You do this thing where you play with your bracelet when your lying. I noticed it last year when you’d lie to guys about why you couldn’t go out with them” Joe said, laughing slightly. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” Joe asks, leaning on your desk closer to you.

“I’m okay, Joey. Promise”

He sighs, but lets it go. Until you open your mouth to speak again. “I’ll be late again tomorrow. I have a doctors appointment in the morning”

“Y/N-“

“Joe, it’s nothing. I told you I’m fine, now can you please drop it” you snapped, and immediately regretted it when he frowned. You never snap at him. Other people, definitely, but never him. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out right now, and I shouldn’t have snapped at you” you say, walking around your desk to stand in front of him. You think he’s mad when he moves away, but you realize he’s just shutting and locking the door.

“Baby, talk to me” he urges, and you cringe at the pet name. Not because he called you it, you’re used to that since you guys started sleeping together, it’s the name itself. Your breath feels like it’s caught in your throat. You’ve never been nervous around Joe, but this was different. Your lives are changing. You’re afraid of what might happen once you say something.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry. Come here” he pulls you into his arms, rubbing your back while you softly sob into his chest, getting mascara on his practice jersey. “It’s just me. You can tell me anything” he reminds you, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

Finally you pull away and look into his eye. Here we go.

“You might wanna sit down for this” you tell him, and he shakes his head. “I’m good right here”

“Joey…” you trail off, your voice cracking. His concern for you growing, and you can see it in his face. “I—I um…took a home pregnancy test this morning” you start, not looking up at him, but you can feel his body tense up. “It was positive” you say, letting out another sob.

“Joey, I’m pregnant.”

[werezolft]

The Dead Boy Detectives (and crew), have been occupying my thoughts the past few weeks. I’ve watched the show on repeat, rewatched Sandman, actually started reading the Sandman graphic novels (currently on Seasons of Mist, the introduction of the Dead Boys), and I’ve started drawing the episodes in the style of old teen detective novels.

I started these before getting super into behind the scenes details. I went down a bit of a rabbit-hole last night, and was delighted to learn that show-runner Steve Yockey wanted the show to be reminiscent of The Hardy Boys, one of the main influences of these covers.

The accuracy of their depictions varies, I don’t think they always really look like themselves. But I had a lot of fun.

I hope to continue designing these for a bit while the obsession holds, and maybe I can properly bring in purples, Crystal’s hero color.

[Alt Text:

Image 1: A series of covers on a white background. From left to right, "The Case Of The Dandelion Shrine", "The Case Of Devlin House", "The Case Of The Dandelion Shrine" (alt cover), "The Case Of The Hungry Snake", and "The Case Of The Lighthouse Leapers".

Image 2: Three teenagers, Charles, Crystal and Edwin explore a blue green cave with a skull covered in dandelions on a center shrine. Charles holds a flashlight, Crystal is climbing in while her eyes have gone white during a psychic episode, and Edwin is playing lookout. At the top of the page in yellow italics is the text “Dead Boy Detectives” and below in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE DANDELION SHRINE”.

Image 3: Edwin, Charles and Crystal peering around the corner of a yellow-green wooden hallway, looking at the silhouette of a man swinging an axe. They have varying worried expressions. At the top, in yellow italics is “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF DEVLIN HOUSE”.

Image 4: Crystal and Niko stare at each other across a green hallway. Niko has her left hand raised and is surrounded by glowing images, stars, hearts, moons, butterflies, rainbows, and sparkles. The cast a faint pink light. At the top in yellow italics is “Dead Boy Detectives”, and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE DANDELION SHRINE”.

Image 5: Charles and Edwin tied to chairs in a golden yellow room. Charles has an iron collar chained to his neck, and his wrists are bound. Edwin is in a white tank top, and his mouth is gagged with a clothe. On the wall is the shadow of the witch Esther, with her cane. In the corner is a large cabinet, Niko peers out of. On top of the cabinet is perched a crow, Monty. At the top, in yellow italics “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE HUNGRY SNAKE”.

Image 6: Edwin, Charles and Crystal stand on stairs overlooking the gray sea and red sky. A giant angler fish, Angie, is staring at them. In the corner, on top of the hill is a classic red and white striped lighthouse. At the top, in yellow italics “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE LIGHTHOUSE LEAPERS”.

Image 7: A series of book covers on a white background: “Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators in The Secret of Skeleton Island”, “Nancy Drew Mystery Stories, The Ghost of Blackwood Hall”, “Nancy Drew, The Mystery at Lilac Inn”, “The Hardy Boys, While the Clock Ticked”, and “The Three Investigators in The Mystery of the Coughing Dragon”.

[asapstarkey]

It’s Complicated — Rafe Cameron

Introduction

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader

Summary: Years of fooling around with Rafe comes back to bite you in the ass. He will now be a part of your life for the indefinite future. How in the hell are you supposed to do this?

A/N: Watching season 4 got the writing juices flowing and this is what came from it. This is a slowwww burn, but Dad!Rafe incoming. Chapter 1 is in the works. I’ll have it out as soon as possible for you. Thank you for reading!

This was never supposed to happen. How could you let this happen?

You had been playing with fire for too long, sneaking around with Rafe Cameron for years. 2 AM phone calls when he was sick of his girl of the month. Drunken escapades in the back of his car during a party on the beach, or on his boat under the cloak of night as he was coming down off of the cocaine. Just for him to throw you away like trash and treat you like shit, like the filthy Pogue he thought you were.

Though, you couldn’t stop.

He’d catch you when you were alone. Raspy voice and hot breath on your neck. Soft fingertips tracing the curve of your shoulder and down your arm. His cologne intoxicating as he pressed his solid chest against your back.

You were addicted to him like the white powder he loved so much. You couldn’t get enough.

But this was too much. You’d gone too far, been too reckless.

Kiara wasn’t supposed to be home. You could have sworn you would have the Chateau to yourself. You went to your room to change and she went to the bathroom before you could take the trash out.

You exited your room and froze when you saw her standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Your eyes were locked on the little white stick in her hand as she looked at you, disbelief written all over her face and she asked, “(Y/N), what is this?”

You swallowed thickly, feeling like the air was sucked out of your lungs. You wanted to keep this a secret. You weren’t going to tell a soul until you figured out what to do. But Kiara had ruined it. The two bold pink lines stared back at you and you tore your eyes away to meet her worried brown ones. Your voice shook and cracked, just a whisper in the otherwise silent house.

“Please don’t tell my brother.”

Read Chapter One here!

A/N: Add yourself to my taglist for this series if you'd like to be notified when new updates come out! I hope you are all as excited for this series as I am. I'm so glad to be back to writing. Feedback is always appreciated!

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Scared The Life Out Of Me”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: metal-vocalist!Sukuna, fluff, you’re both basically frenemies

Word Count: 1.4k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

You and Sukuna don’t tend to be home at the same time, you’d think you would see him all the time considering, you know, you live together and all, but you honestly don’t really know all that much about him. You know he rides a motorcycle, ‘cause every time he pulls up to the apartment late at night it’s blaring loud engine wakes you up, and you know he listens to metal music because it’s blasting through his speaker in the bathroom right now as he’s taking a shower next to your room; maybe he’s going deaf, that’s probably a safe assumption considering everything around him is so loud.

Hell, everything about him is loud. Not only literally, like how he can never walk to your room to come get you and instead opts to yell across the apartment, but it’s as if every aspect of him doesn’t know subtlety. He’s always wearing over the top clothes, spiked leather jackets, torn to shreds t-shirts, jeans with patches sewn into every available spot, his pink hair and his face tattoos drawing everyone’s attention, everything is so maximalist. And his personality, you swear he’s never backed down from anything. Anything he does, he does it with passion, he does it big, and he does it bold.

Basically, you don’t know peace when he’s home, and you especially don’t know peace this morning, being rudely awoken by his blaring music in the bathroom between both of your bedrooms. Technically it’s not his fault that this overpriced apartment only has one bathroom, but for Christ’s sake it’s six in the morning, what is he even doing awake right now?

You grab your pillow from under your head and smother your face underneath it, attempting anything to be able to sleep in on your day off.

He drives me fucking insane.

The pillow definitely helps muffle the sound, but it’s not enough; and it definitely isn’t enough to cover the sudden low growling coming from the bathroom. You slowly uncover your face, brows furrowed as you’re trying to figure out what that noise is before it suddenly jumps in volume, like some kind of scream, making you nearly jump out of your bed. What the fuck is that? Did a pipe burst? Did the ceiling collapse?

It sounds like some kind of lion- or maybe a demon, horrific screaming growls coming from the next room. You slowly raise yourself off of your bed, timidly stepping out of your room and taking a few steps to stand outside of the bathroom door. It’s definitely coming from in there, but Sukuna doesn’t seem to have any reaction to it. Surely there’s no way he doesn’t hear that, right?

Oh my god, he really is going deaf isn’t he?

“Sukuna?!” You yell from the other side of the door, the low growling sound abruptly stops.

“What?” He yells back, he sounds annoyed. Annoyed? You’re trying to save him from a lion that just fell through the ceiling, or… something, and he’s seriously annoyed?

“What the fuck is that noise?” You can hear the shower stop running and his music shut off, after a moment of waiting the door swings open. Sukuna stands before you, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and his pink bangs hanging over his eyes, dripping water down his cheeks.

“What? You don’t like it?” He grins at you before turning to face the mirror, swiping his palm over the fogged up glass to create a clearing to see his reflection in.

“It sounded like something was dying, please tell me that wasn’t you.” You step into the steamy bathroom, leaning your back against the wall and watching his grin grow wider through his reflection in the blurry mirror.

Sukuna grabs a clean towel from the floor, rubbing it over his hair and down his face, his voice muffled through the fabric, “I was practicing.”

He drops the towel from his face and drapes it around the back of his neck, glancing back at you in the mirror as he combs his hair out of his face with his fingers, he bites his lip to try and hide the snarky grin spreading across his face when he sees the confused look you give him, “Practicing for what? Are you auditioning to play a monster in a play or something?”

“Oh please,” He rolls his eyes and turns to face you, you’re not fast enough to catch your gaze before it drifts down to the droplets of water running down his tattooed abs and he simply snaps his fingers in front of your face to grab your attention back, seemingly unfazed by you accidentally checking him out, “I’m in a band, believe it or not I do the vocals.”

A faint blush started to paint your cheeks, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the way your jaw drops in mock horror, “Oh my god, that was you singing?”

“Oh fuck off,” He huffs out a short laugh, “I’m in a metal band, I actually scream.” He grabs the towel from around his neck, tossing it over your head and pushing past you to walk to his room.

“Hey! Asshole,” You tear the towel down from your face, letting it plop onto the tile at your feet, “You can’t just scream first thing in the morning! You scared the fuck out of me!”

He turns around to face you, wrapping a large hand around the top of the doorframe and leaning his side against it, “Consider us even then, you got me real good when you woke me up to you screaming Bloody Mary over a little fuckin’ spider.”

“That was different, I was scared! That’s a normal reason to scream!”

“Yeah?” He leans down to be eye level with you, speaking in a mocking tone, “Well I saw how much you shed all over the shower and was horrified.”

“You’re such a dick,” You turn to pull the shower curtain back, “There’s not even- oh, well, there’s like two strands, god forbid.”

He grins as he stands back at his full height, taking a few steps back into the hall and opening up the door to his room, you quickly follow behind him, looking up towards him, “Why didn’t you ever tell me you’re in a band?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping the door open as he walks into his dimly lit room, “You never asked.”

You stand in his doorway, peering around his room. The walls are covered in posters and some most likely stolen street signs, but aside from the eclectic decor it’s surprisingly neat, “Is your music any good?”

He opens his closet door and then turns his head to face you, speaking to you in a monotone voice, “Can I put some clothes on or do you wanna talk to me with my cock out?”

A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you toss your hands up into the air defensively, turning around to give him some privacy, “My bad.”

You can hear Sukuna chuckle behind you and the quiet sounds of fabric moving around his skin, “Is it good? Well, you’d probably think it sounds like… what did you say? A dying animal?”

You grin and bite the inside of your cheek, “A dying animal or maybe the horrific screams of the unknown, either one.”

He lets out a satisfied hum, “Horrific screams of the unknown is a good album name, I’ll have to write that down.”

“I’ll be expecting royalties.”

“Don’t expect shit,” You suddenly feel a wet towel smack against your back, making you jump and yell out in surprise, “Brat.”

“Ew!” You turn around to find him standing right behind you, smug grin plastered on his face and both of his hands shoved into the pockets of the black sweatpants he threw on, opting out of putting on a shirt and instead leaving his tattooed torso on full display.

“Hm? Thought you’d want that,” He snaps his fingers in front of your face again, “Freak.”

Oh, oh he knows what he’s doing. You didn’t even realize how you were looking at him before he caught you, but it’s not like it’s your fault that he looks like that.

You let out a groan and turn around to walk down the hall to your room, “I’m going back to bed.”

He really drives me insane more than I thought he would.

Little do you know, he’s thinking a similar thought about you.

A/N: THIS is the one I intended to be the first part before I got too excited and wrote the one where y’all quarantine together instead, but shhhh we can just pretend this one takes place before that!! Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[writingwisterias]

Each Era of Leon and their first date with you

WARNINGS: Fluff, Fem!Reader

RE2,RE4R, Damnation, Infinite Darkness, Vendetta, RE6, Death Island

(not proof read was bored at my dads and did this quickly lmao)

RE2:

Leon sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror for the 100th time, his keys jingling as he pocketed them.

He swore his heart was going to explode with how fast it was beating, the idea of a first date still seemed stranger after everything he had been through.

His fist shook as he knocked on the door to your house, the stained glass window was decorated with flowers. The walkway lined with small flowers was the perfect family home, something he again assumed would be something to give away after he signed his life away to the government.

Your outfit was different from what you wore at the office, your frame decorated in a soft flowery dress, "Hey, you look nice" you spoke sweetly the door shutting behind you.

He couldn't stop the blush that lingered on his cheeks, the smile that grew impossibly wide as he linked his arm with yours. It felt nice; the weight of your arm in his...it felt right. "So do you" he stuttered out, cringing at the shakiness of his voice.

Once he finally settled in the restaurant, his nervous chatter reduced. You smiled as he talked enthusiastically about your interests, offering pointers and tips on how to help with the garden. Even offering his own help to you.

He somehow stumbled his way through the date for you to offer him a second one, departing the night with a simple kiss on his growing red cheeks.

RE4R:

After everything he's been through, he fought hard with himself to hold the slight shake in his hands.

Checking himself over briefly before going out, his outfit was casual but practical. A new warm jacket draped over his form since he lost his other one in Spain.

His knock is firmer, he's hand tucked in his pockets as he waits for you to leave your house. Not looking at the door, only looking at his feet.

It's only when he sees you his breath falters, your hair curled nicely falling across your shoulders, your dress showing off your form perfectly. "wow" is all he managed to get out, his smile growing at the dust of pink that showed up.

He's cracking jokes the entire evening, small puns here and there as he checks the menu for what he wants.

Pays for the whole thing, maybe would let you pay for the tip.

You already knew he was in for a second date..he didn't even need to ask

Infinite Darkness:

Most relaxed out of all of them, he was confident he looked good, opting for a shirt and jeans. His trusty leather jacket thrown over his shoulders.

He's looking at the door when he knocks, his body is still stiff but there's no obvious signs of being nervous

Smiling before you even made eye contact, hand on your waist as he leads you away.

Opting for a more low-key casual date in case he gets called away on a mission so he takes you to a coffee shop.

Paying for everything again, I'm sure he has so much money and no one to spoil.

But more touchy than the other ones, hands on your lower back as he guides you to a table, small touches of his fingers as he walks next to you.

If he's feeling bold enough he would kiss you, his hand weaving in your hair as he brings you closer.

Damnation:

Despite his grumpier tone during this film and his drinking habits in full force. He would try and do everything in his power to show up sober and not hungover.

This would mean he's slightly more nervous, not just because of the lack of sleep since he didn't drink the night before but also because it's first time he's been open with someone like this for a while.

Would be the easiest person to deal with at the start of the night, very closed off when he picks you up. However he does manage to compliment you though, his cheeks blushing when you return the favour

His humor is dry having lost the will to keep going it became more depressing but you didn't seem to mind. He instead started to view you as a light in the darkness.

So much so that he doesn't want the night to end. Dragging it out by going on a walk buying hot drinks and enjoying the simple conversations.

This is when his guard slips and you see past the tuff exterior he built to survive the harsh world.

His kiss at the end of the night is simple, but leave an impression on you along with a promise for more

Vendetta:

We all know he's the most depressed out of all the eras, so he wouldn't really care too much in his appearance. He's just shocked you even took enough interest.

I imagine it's more after the events of the movie where he's slightly on the brighter side.

He wouldn't talk about his job, using the date as an excuse to get away from it.

Very touchy, probably the only time he's realized how touched starved he actually is.

Drinking, he would probably try to avoid it during the night. He doesn't want to give you the wrong idea but towards the end he eventually gives in..not quiet content enough to go sober.

His kiss is sloppy but meaningful; a lot of his unspoken feelings about you given in the last moment with the kiss..leaves you begging for more.

You feel like you still don't really know him but know him enough to want to go for a second date

RE6:

Defiantly had a drink before he left, his outfit is scruffy and doesn't put too much thought into it. At least he put aftershave on though!

His knock on the door is firm and confident, smiling instantly when he sees you and almost escorts you to the car.

Opted for a nice restaurant making sure he booked a booth so he could have this moment without other people looking at him and you.

His conversations are mainly about your interests again, dealing out a couple of his own hobbies without giving away a lot of what he does...not fully trusting you to handle that information yet.

Keeps his drinking to the minimum, wanting to actually remember the events.

Drives you home but you stay in the car a bit longer, the conversation seemingly flowing a lot easier in this situation.

Kisses you passionately again, cradling your face as he does it.

DEATH ISLAND:

He's more nervous this time around, putting in more thought into his clothing..scolding himself for being so nervous.

Sober when he picks you up and during the entire date.

Is the most open with you off the bat about his interests but is still blunt with his job.

Picks you up on his bike but tells you before hand so you can dress appropriately.

Smiling the entire time he's driving you to the location, he loves how your hands tighten around him as he goes faster. The feeling of you pressed so closely to him

His heart melts when you exclaim how much fun it is!

Very big on touching, but always asking permission before he does.

Kisses you after you get off the bike, not driving away until he sees you have gotten in the house safe.

[hoshifighting]

    stripper!reader x stripper!mingyu

— where you join forces with your coworker, mingyu, to make this saturday's client night the absolute best!

WARNINGS: +18, smut, stripper club setting, pussy eating, penetrative sex, protected sex, public teasing, mentions of money.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

the bass is so loud, it’s vibrating through your bones. you can feel it under your fingertips as you grip the pole, spinning lazily around, letting your body arch and twist under the spotlight like it’s nothing. just another night, just another shift.

the stage lights glint off the tiny pearls on your matching set, each one catching the neon pinks and blues cutting through the dark, practically blinding in how they flash against your skin. your whole body sparkles, glitter dusting your cheeks, eyelids shimmering every time you blink.

out of the corner of your eye, you catch mingyu, all perfect muscle and stupidly sharp jawline, doing his thing with some woman who’s gotta be pushing forty, maybe fifty. she’s bold, though, slipping a stack of bills down his waistband like she’s done this before. the whole time, mingyu’s eyes are locked on you, a smirk teasing at his lips as he grinds just close enough to make her blush. cocky.

mingyu’s staring at you the whole time, like she isn’t even there, like you’re the one giving him the damn lap dance. you don’t break eye contact as you slide to the floor, your knees hitting the stage with a thud that only you can feel. the pearls on your top catch the light, sparkling like something priceless, and you know you look like a fucking dream.

the girl sitting by the stage is young, too shy to even meet your eyes, but she’s holding a wad of cash tight in her fingers, like she’s not sure what to do with it.

“go on, sweetheart,” you purr, voice low as you push up onto your knees, rolling your shoulders as you arch your back, eyes flicking over her face. “don’t be shy.”

her cheeks flush and, after a second of hesitation, she slides a couple of hundred-dollar bills onto the stage, her fingers trembling like she’s never seen a naked body before in her life. cute.

you pick up the notes, your fingers curling around them before tucking them into the side of your panties with a grin, giving her a wink as you rise back to your feet. the guy with her, maybe her boyfriend, watches the whole thing with his mouth open, but you barely even glance his way. nah, this is all for her.

you sway your hips as you walk over to her, slow, teasing, circling her like you’re a predator and she’s the prey. the dude next to her—the boyfriend? the sugar daddy? who fucking knows—he’s watching you too, but his attention’s mostly on her, like he’s getting off on her reaction more than yours. you pause, letting your fingers brush against her knee before leaning in closer, your lips ghosting over her ear as you whisper, “enjoy the show sweetheart...”

she stutters, barely able to form a response, and you laugh softly, the sound low and sultry. then, just like that, you’re gone, turning on your heel to head back to the stage, looking over your shoulder with a smirk, your body still moving with the music.

show’s over.

hours later, when the shift finally winds down, your legs feel like jelly and your head’s buzzing from the lights and the constant movement. you’re wiping the last bit of sweat from your brow when mingyu shows up, two glasses of juice in hand and that familiar, smug grin plastered on his face. he’s already thrown on a pair of sweats, but his chest is still bare, glistening under the faint glow of the backstage lights.

“house’s favorite girl,” he teases, draping a fluffy robe over your shoulders like the gentleman he pretends to be. “how’s your night been, superstar?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you take the juice from him, downing half the glass in one go. “same shit, different night. made some bank though, so i ain’t complaining. had a cute little thing at the front, though. she couldn’t even look me in the eye.”

mingyu chuckles, taking a sip of his juice. “yeah? she the one with the hundred-dollar nerves? you were working her real good.”

“you saw that?” you raise an eyebrow, smirking. “course you did. you couldn’t stop staring.”

“what can i say? hard not to when you’re putting on a fucking show.” his voice drops, and you know he’s baiting you, but you bite anyway.

“oh, come on,” he says, nudging you playfully with his elbow. “you know you love watching me work.”

“nah,” you laugh, stepping away from him, heading towards the dressing room. “i just love how easy you are to distract. that poor woman had no idea where your head was at.”

he laughs, loud and easy, following you as you both make your way out. “yeah, well, you’re lucky i’m so damn good at multitasking.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night, gyu,” you call over your shoulder, the two of you stepping into the cool night air.

he shakes his head, still grinning, as he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “you know, you should be thanking me,” he says, voice playful but with that edge that makes you wonder if he’s serious. “i keep the lights on in that place. without me, you’d be broke.”

you shoot him a sideways glance, smirking. “oh, please. i’m the one keeping those lonely boys coming back for more. without me, you’d be giving free dances just to keep your ego in check.”

mingyu laughs again, and you find yourself laughing with him, the two of you walking side by side under the neon lights of the city, ready to do it all again tomorrow.

[...]

you remember when mingyu first stumbled into the club—eyes wide and innocent, asking if the house was hiring. the poor kid looked like he’d never stepped foot in a place like this before, lost in the velvet and gold that dripped from every corner of the club. you’d been the one to take him under your wing, showing him the ropes, giving him pointers. hell, you even helped him pick out his first set of dance clothes, some cheap shit he was embarrassed to wear, but you told him it wasn’t about the clothes. “it’s about confidence,” you’d said, watching him stumble through his first routine like a newborn fawn, all limbs and nerves.

there was that one night—maybe a year in—when he messed up a private dance, almost spilling a drink on a client’s lap. you’d swooped in, smooth, flashing that grin that always made the rich ones open their wallets. you saved his ass, pulling him out of the situation, and afterward, in the break room, he looked at you like you were some kind of goddess. from then on, he stuck to you like glue, and over time, he became just as polished, just as skilled, and just as much a favorite as you were.

now, years later, it’s saturday night, and the club’s packed with the usual crowd. high rollers, rich assholes with more money than they know what to do with. and there’s mingyu, standing behind you in the dressing room, his big hands buttoning up your rhinestone-covered bra. it’s your good set, the one that always makes the cash pile up a little faster. he’s seen your tits a hundred times at this point—everyone’s seen everyone’s in here, with all the changing and rushing—but it’s different with him. you can feel the way he keeps his eyes guarded when he’s fastening the hooks—respect endless. how he glances in the mirror just to make sure the fit is perfect, your chest looking a little perkier under the sparkling stones, but just that.

you finish your makeup without missing a beat, and then you turn around, there’s a small smile playing on your lips as you grab your brush and start dusting highlighter across his chest, his shoulders, those stupidly defined abs. his muscles twitch when the brush drags over them, and you feel the slight tremor in his breath. he looks away, embarrassed, but you catch the way his lips twitch up just a little, like he can’t help but smile, too.

“hold still, gyu,” you murmur, voice teasing as you brush the glittering powder along the curve of his bicep. “can’t have you going out there looking anything less than perfect, right?”

he chuckles, nervous, and there’s that tension again. it’s always there, buzzing under the surface, but you both ignore it.

the club is packed. you’re up next, and mingyu’s already on stage, doing his usual routine, charming the hell out of everyone like he always does. but something’s different tonight. maybe it’s the way the lights hit just right, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you from across the room, like he’s seeing you in a way he hasn’t before.

your heels click against the stage, your eyes locked on mingyu as the public hums around you. you brush your hands down your body, fingers trailing over the rhinestones of your bra, your stomach, and then your hips. he’s walking toward you too, matching your pace, the same heat in his gaze. when you’re close enough to feel his breath mingle with yours, he cocks his head, voice low.

“what are you doing?” his tone is playful, but there’s an edge to it, like he knows this is different.

you scoff, leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost across his lips. “you ready to make some cash tonight?”

his eyebrow lifts in that cocky way he always does, but the smirk dies when your hands slide from his chest, down his abs, fingers grazing the sharp lines of his muscles. his breath hitches when you hit his thighs, your knees bending as you dance your way down, rolling your hips to the beat. your eyes never leave his, catching every tiny reaction as the music pulses around you.

he hears the crowd, feels the weight of all those eyes on the two of you, but they don’t matter. not really. not when it’s you and him, moving together like you’ve done this a hundred times, even though you haven’t.

as you rise again, your body sways back, your ass pressing into him, your hips grinding against his in time with the rhythm. his hands twitch at his sides, but it doesn’t take long before his fingers finally meet your waist, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against him. the heat of his body, the tight press of his hips making you shiver.

the crowd’s getting thicker now, more people drawn in, whispering about the two favorites dancing together. it’s a special night, and they know it.

“you’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear, barely touching, but enough to make your skin tingle.

“oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” you purr, a teasing lilt in your voice as you sway your hips, feeling his hands tighten on you, fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you bite your lip.

the crowd’s buzzing now, louder than before, even some of the employees have stopped to watch, their eyes glued to the two of you, wondering where this is going. as you two drown in your own world. the music pulses through your bodies, and it’s just you, him, and the tension that’s been simmering for way too long.

your lips brush against his, so close but never touching, teasing him, teasing the crowd. you can feel his frustration, the way he wants to close the gap, to finally taste you, but you hold back, keeping him on edge. he chuckles, his hands roaming lower, pressing into the small of your back as his hips grind harder into yours. the crowd’s roaring now, fully invested in the performance, but all that matters is him.

your lips hover just out of reach, the dance turning into something more, something bolder, he leans in, lips brushing yours again, but you pull back just enough to keep him guessing, that playful grin on your face as you whisper, “you really think you can keep up with me?”

his eyes flash more intense, and he smirks, challenging. “i can do a lot more than keep up.”

the money practically rains down around you, the sound of bills hitting the floor like music in its own right. you and mingyu catch each other’s gaze, eyes gleaming with the sight of it—stacks of cash, pooling at your feet, your reward for the tease you both just put on. mingyu moves fast, his hands gripping your thighs as he picks you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. the sharp point of your high heels digs into his lower back, and the sensation makes his breath hitch.

your hand slides to the back of his neck, fingers curling into his skin as he holds you close, his grip on your waist tight and possessive. you arch your back, your hair falling back like a waterfall, and he’s mesmerized for a second, the notes still floating in the air around you both. you know he loves this—the way you move, the way you own every second on that stage. he’s addicted to it, and you feel it in the way his hands pull you tighter against him, the way he can’t let go.

together, you step off the stage, leaving behind the frenzy, the crowd’s imaginations running wild with what might happen next. but they wouldn’t see it. this part? this was just for you and mingyu.

he pushes through the dressing room door, locking it behind him with a quick flick of his wrist before pressing you against the hard wood. his lips are on yours in an instant, desperate, rough, tongue sliding against yours like he’s been waiting for this all night—or a lifetime. his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a swift pull, while your hands work on his belt, both of you too impatient to slow down.

“fuck, you really had to tease me like that?” he breathes against your lips, hands yanking your bra off, tossing it to the side without care. “you know i can’t keep my hands off you when you look like that.”

“you gonna do something about it?” you challenge, taunting, fingers finally pulling his belt free, your hand dipping lower.

but he’s already got you spun around, pushing you down onto the velvet divan, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck before latching onto your tits, sucking, biting the buds just enough to make you gasp. your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as he moves lower.

“gonna do more than ‘something,’” he growls, hands gripping your panties and yanking them down, the fabric sliding off easily, leaving your pussy bare under his gaze. his breath is heavy, eyes shady as he kneels down, slinging your legs over his shoulders. your high heels rest on his broad shoulders, the sharp stilettos digging in just enough to make him groan low in his throat.

“god, you’re so soaked already, panties almost didn't hold it” he mutters, as his fingers part your folds, watching the slick gather. without warning, he spits on your pussy, the wetness mixing with your own, dripping down before he catches it with his tongue. his mouth seals around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue swirling as your back arches off the divan, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips.

“fuck, gyu, so good, baby boy” you gasp, your hand fisting in his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you. his tongue works expertly, flicking and circling your clit, as if the nickname made his body work more. you can hardly keep your eyes open, the feeling too much as he continues, relentless, sucking and licking like he’s starving.

he pulls back just enough to growl, “taste so fucking sweet… you know how crazy you make me, right? you’re fuckin’ mine tonight.”

you grip his hair tight, yanking him back just when his mouth is moving too good on you, the sound of his moan vibrating against your skin. you don’t let go, making him look at you, his eyes dark and desperate, like he’s being denied air.

“you gonna be a good boy for me, mingyu?” your voice is a low, sultry tease, breathless but in control. “or are you just gonna sit there, all pathetic and needy, waiting for me to let you fuck me?”

his eyes widen at your words, pupils blown out with lust. “fuck, y/n, please…” he’s already nodding like a man on his knees, begging. “i’ll be good, promise, just—please—”

you smirk, biting your lip as you push yourself up on all fours, your upper body laying across the arm of the divan, head resting lazily like you’ve got all the time in the world. but it’s your back, arching just enough to make him lose his mind, the way your ass is up, fully exposed, skin glistening from the sweat of the night. and when you look over your shoulder at him, your gaze nasty, wild—he swears he almost blacks out.

mingyu stumbles back, rushing around the dressing room like a madman, eyes darting everywhere as he hunts for a condom. he’s moving so fast, he nearly trips over his own pants as he kicks them off, his boxers joining them in a heap on the floor. “shit, fuck—where the hell—ah, got it,” he mutters to himself, finally finding one in the drawer.

his hands are almost shaking as he rips the foil with his teeth, pulling the condom out and sliding it on with a frantic desperation, his cock already leaking, hard and throbbing as he fists it once, twice, just to calm down. “fuck, y/n… look at you,” he groans, coming back over, his eyes locked on the curve of your ass, the way your pussy’s practically dripping for him.

you don’t say anything at first, just watching him through half-lidded eyes, biting your lip. you spread your legs wider, teasing him, showing off just how slick you are, the wetness glistening under the dim light. “you gonna keep staring, or are you gonna put that dick to work?”

he’s on you in a heartbeat, one hand gripping your waist, the other guiding his cock to your entrance. you feel the tip press against your folds, and it’s hot, thick, pushing just enough to make your breath hitch.

“you feel that?” his voice is rough. “feel how fucking hard you make me?”

“shut up and fuck me,” you spit, pushing back against him, making the head of his cock sink in just a little. “you’re too slow, mingyu, don’t make me wait.”

he doesn’t need more than that. with one strong thrust, he’s buried inside you, his cock stretching you wide, the feeling so intense that you can’t help but let out a sharp moan, fingers clawing at the arm of the divan. he’s big, filling you up so deep that it almost hurts, but fuck, it feels so good. he groans so whiny that doesn't even fits him.

“so fucking tight,” he pants, his hips jerking as he starts to move, slow at first, like he’s savoring how you feel around him. “goddamn… i could fuck this pussy for hours.”

you push back, meeting his thrusts with a grind of your own, your ass slapping against his hips with every movement. “yeah? that what you want? to be my little fucktoy? use that big cock of yours until i’m done with you?”

he growls, hands gripping your hips so hard, it’s like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. “fuck yes,” he grits out between thrusts, his pace picking up, hips snapping into yours harder now, faster. “you want me to be your fucktoy? then use me, baby… use me all you fucking want.”

your pussy clenches tight around him, the wetness making obscene sounds every time he slams into you. the rhythm is perfect, rough, and fast, his cock dragging against that one spot, your fingers curling on the heels. the heat builds between your legs, the slickness coating his length, making it easy for him to fuck you deep, hard.

“shit, mingyu—right there,” you moan, your body arching back into him as you feel the pressure build, every nerve tingling with the intensity of it. “fuck, you’re so good at this… like you were made to fuck me.”

his hips falter for a second at your words, a deep groan ripping from his throat. “god, y/n, you’re gonna fucking kill me… i’m already so close.”

“don’t you fucking dare,” you snarl, throwing a glance over your shoulder, daring him to cum before you. “you’re gonna keep going until i say so, got it?”

he nods frantically, almost whining as he keeps thrusting, his cock twitching inside you, the tension in his body obvious. “yes, fuck—yes, anything, i’ll keep going, baby, just—fuck, you feel so good—”

you can feel the edge coming, the orgasm building deep inside, and you push back even harder, grinding your ass against him, loving the way he’s losing control. “you feel that?” you taunt, voice breathless. “you feel how close i am? you better fucking keep up.”

“fuck—please, please cum for me, y/n… wanna feel you cum on my cock, wanna feel you tighten up around me,” he’s babbling now, barely coherent as he slams into you over and over, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

it hits you all at once—the orgasm making you bite your hand, your body convulsing as you scream his name, fingers digging into the divan. your pussy clamps down on his cock, squeezing tight, and that’s all it takes. mingyu lets out a strangled groan, hips stuttering as he finally cums, his body shuddering against yours as he fills the condom, thrusting through the aftershocks, just to satisfy you, until you tell him to stop.

“back to the stage?” he asks.

you scoff, finally laying on the divan. “fuck no baby, my shift ends here tonight.”

“so let me go get our money pretty, we have to bring home the bacon.” he winks, dressing his denim again. you just give him up thumbs.

he walks to the door, but then turns, walking in your direction to give you a kiss, and now he leaves.

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

When your best-friend Steve Harrington asks you to hold his fleshlight for him.

It wasn’t really something that either of you planned on happening. But then it just did. Steve had been pent up from work all day from typical annoying patrons, smart mouthed jocks from the high school, that were freshmen when he was a senior (tenfold karma, Harrington), and Keith’s particular way of criticizing his every move out of some form of nerdy revenge. You could count on one hand the times that Steve had to bail out of your two person movie nights on Fridays (Saturdays were for dates and Sundays were for hanging with the rest of the parties and running kids around), and tonight happened to be one of those occurrences. Usually, it would be for self-care or whatever reason he needed to spend alone, but when he’d barely shed his leather jacket upon entering his house, dusting snow off of his boots — he was about to crawl out of his skin by the time his massive palm was wrapped around the receiver, thumb strangled by its cord.

He was… off? And seconds after he’d cancelled without much reason, the line went dead. You wanted to give him space, especially because he usually called back to tell you goodnight. But after being unable to sit still and finish a generous portion of the large pepperoni pizza you’d ordered the two of you, you were grabbing your keys for the journey over to his place.

~*~

It didn’t take but five minutes before you reached Steve’s house, pulling in behind his familiar car. You dangle the copy - made spare from your pointer finger, trekking your way up to the door and letting yourself in, wiping at your wind-whipped, wet eyes. You know he’s not on the first floor, its entirety dark and a little cool. So you toss your coat and keys onto the small table beside the entryway, kicking off your boots to join his on the cheesy welcome mat, and you make your way to the second floor landing to his bedroom. Seeing a buttery glow spill out from the crack in his doorway, you’d proceeded, only to be met with a sight that only appeared in your late night fantasies… and pretty much your every waking thought.

Steve is facing his mattress, sheets tousled and clothing pooled beside him, stood on the left side of his bed, naked and glistening in the perspiration of teasing, observing his massive length as he edges himself, moving the toy slowly over his cock. You know what it is, you’ve seen it in magazines and stores, in some porn. A fleshlight, they call it. Your brain goes through a million thoughts at a couple seconds to spare.

Why doesn’t he have someone here to do this with? He can get a date?

Is he okay? Obviously he’s very okay.

Holy fuck… he’s big.

Holy fuck… he’s beautiful.

A little more than usual, waiting on the summer sun to tan his freckle and mole spattered skin. His hair has grown longer, curling at the nape, his shoulder blades and biceps defined from a regular regime. And that ass, the way it flexes and is perfectly plump, connecting to those hairy thighs and big feet, his own toes curling when he twists, a wet squelch coming from the faux cunt. There’s beautiful chestnut curls scattered across him sternum and connecting to a trail that surrounds his base and those full, heavy, balls. That cock… thick, barely able to be pushed back into the toy, his fingers having to peel back its soft pink layers to help ease the slick way, decorated in a vein that matches the one running along his forearm

And you must make some sort of noise, because your lips part to let in a gasp of air, causing his body to twist in a sudden defensive stance, clenching the toy so tight with a ‘caught’ pose. You go to move and the door spills open completely, slamming back into his dresser and shaking old sports trophies. You’re panting, seeking out the words to apologize, Steve is wincing from how hard he still is, attempting to cover his modesty. But the air shifts in the room and you gain a boldness, a restlessness that won’t be satiated, nor a conscience satisfied if you don’t ask.

“Can I help you?” A customer service line from working at Scoops with him. But it comes naturally.

Steve, biting his lip, disheveled — he nods. And it’s happening. A tickling ease, a line crossed.

“C’mhere.” He’s waving with his opposite hand. His ribcage expands as he gulps in lungfuls of air.

You’re at his side shortly, shyly. “W-what do you need me to do?”

His spare hand pushes back through his hair, amber gaze gone to a midnight sky, teeth milky white, defined jawline covered in stubble, and a perfect nose. His voice is raspy when he lets you know what he needs.

“Go get on my bed, lay back for me. Please?”

A fucking gentleman.

All of your clothes feel too tight, smothering you as you lay back on his bed, his pillow immediately invading you. Your hands are unsure of where to go, but he approaches slowly, kneeling his way into kneeling by your feet. “I’m gonna… Can I use this between your legs, honey? You don’t have to do anything, just let me do all the work.” He motions to the toy and you want nothing more, suddenly offered the world.

It’s your turn to say it now. “C’mhere.”

He’s using that enriched tendon covered forearm to prop himself up beside of your head, slotting right between your knees, his remaining hand wrapped so tightly around the toy that his skin is pulled taunt over his knuckles. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, releases it, licks it, and then he’s asking, “Can I?”

“Go. Do what you need to do. I’m right here, Steve.”

If you thought the toy was loud before, the sound of him working his lengthy girth through its walls right in front of you now — it’s surround sound. You’re watching, unable to help it, bones threaten to be dusted to ash from how hard your heart is ramming beneath your breastbone.

“Wanted to come over, but it’s been a shit week, an even shitter day. And I just needed to —“

“— Release some tension, right? I get it, I do it too. I have a cock that goes… I —“ you stop your horny rambling, face feeling too much warmed.

Steve’s face scrunches, teeth gritting, and he twists the toy until slowing it almost completely. “Tell me what you do. You fuck yourself with it, right? When everything is too much and not enough? Fuck, honey.”

He doesn’t verbalize, but you don’t either, simply accept the toy and hold it against your denim covered cunt, leaving Steve’s hands free to hold on either side of you, his nose nudging yours as he leans down — here, present. You copy his earlier motions, using the toy to glide along his length as he thrusts into it with a new focussed vigor. “That’s it. You feel so good, honey. Workin’ me so right.”

“I’m soaking — fucking — wet for you, Steve. Just so you know.”

His hips stutter and his nose finds its way into your eyelashes, cheek pressing into your own. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum into this thing, and I want —“

“— You want what, Steve?” You hold your breath.

He answers without fear or pause. “You.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[prettiestlovergirl]

TROUBLE

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; slytherin!reader; spoiled!reader; ditzy!reader; semi-public sex; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it); oral fixation! reader; slight dumbification; rough sex; fingering; italian!theodore nott.

a/n: giggling and kicking my feet with this one, I LOVE ITALIAN! THEO. one of my favorite hcs. i had a grand ole time writing this one hehe. enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

theodore nott thrived on things being neat and orderly.

he was reserved, controlled, proper. his hair was always perfectly styled, his uniforms neatly pressed, every single act was planned in advance, he functioned 5 steps ahead of the world.

even when he and his friends were cruel or caused some sort of chaos, it was perfectly controlled. there was nothing that could break his focus, his drive, his desire for perfection.

well, except for you that is.

you and theo had been... acquaintances for years. you had classes together, attended the same house parties, you were incredibly hard to miss. you were his opposite in every way: you were bold, impulsive, fucking chaos personified.

he liked controlled actions, carefully planned out steps, and neat perfection and you? you liked everything but.

he should have wanted nothing to do with you, should have been appalled by you but.... it was exactly the opposite. everything about you seemed to draw him in. your charming smiles, your hissed demands, your expensive taste, everything about you fascinated him.

something about you made him want to lose control, to let you drive him insane. being around you felt messy, felt like playing with fire, he should have never been alone with you.

being alone with you meant thoughts of letting you ruin him completely and letting him ruin you ran wild, so he always made sure to have a buffer or three to keep you at arm's length.

but when snape asked if anybody could tutor you... he couldn't resist offering his services, being your knight in shining armor. you'd just looked so desperate, with your glossy pink lips sticking out in the sweetest little pout.

now, however, he was seriously regretting allowing himself to think with his dick instead of his rational brain. you were so close he could smell the fucking strawberry scented shampoo you used and the way it mixed in with your expensive perfume.

theo prided himself on his self-control, so really, it was pathetic that 40 minutes with you sitting across from him had him so tense. he tried to focus on helping you, but you consistently pulled him off course.

you hated studying, hence the need for a tutor. you could never focus, it was just so boring. especially right now, when you had the theodore nott helping you out. how could you be expected to focus on potions when you could pick the brain on the most poise and proper man in your year?

you couldn't help but tease him a bit, i mean, you figured he was indestructible. you joked around and flashed him flirty little smiles, relishing in every teasing comment or joke you pulled out of him.

eventually, theo couldn't take it anymore. he was one pink-tinted glossy smile away from grabbing you right then and there. he excused himself abruptly, lying about needing to find you another book. really, he just needed a second to breath strawberry-free air and calm himself down.

but you had to follow him, didn't you? you just had to follow him into the secluded section, hands behind your back, pouty lip caught between your teeth. "are you alright, theo?" you questioned, eyes full of concern as his name rolled off your tongue perfectly.

and that was all it took for his last shred of self-control to break.

it had taken you completely by surprise. one moment, you were afraid you'd upset him, going to follow him and apologize for your teasing. the next, he'd murmured a quick "fanculo" (fuck it) and crashed his lips onto yours.

the kiss was rough and unrestrained, not at all how you'd imagined he'd have kissed. you thought it would be chaste and sweet, all proper like him. the roughness, the desperation of it all had you moaning on impact in both surprise and delight.

theo relished in your moan, pushing his tongue past your lips and teeth to explore your mouth. his tongue moved so expertly; it made your brain go a little fuzzy. his tongue drew moan after moan out of you.

his long, nimble fingers expertly unbuttoned your shirt before tugging your bra down just enough to expose your mouthwatering tits to him. the cool library air made your nipples harden instantly.

"merda, guaio." (shit) he swore, pulling away from your lips to admire all your exposed flesh. he watched as your chest heaved while you caught your breath. "you gonna be quiet for me, mio tesoro?" (my treasure) he asked, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples while his eyes stayed on yours.

it took a moment for you to even register that he was talking to you. your mind was spinning with a million different thoughts but you still found yourself unable to come up with a coherent sentence.

it felt a little like you had whiplash. you couldn't quite believe that the perfect and oh-so-calculated theodore nott was currently swirling his tongue around your nipple in the middle of the library.

"i asked you a question, guaio." he cooed, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh and making you gasp. "yes. yes, i'll be quiet." you breathed, nodding your head rapidly as your eyes stayed trained on his. "brava ragazza." (good girl)

his words burned into your skin, the wetness between your thighs practically gushing over your panties while he continued to suck and lick both of your nipples until they were coated in his saliva.

"t-theo.." you whimpered softly, biting your lip harshly as one of his hands trailed under your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness soaking your panties. "please..." you gasped.

the sound of you whimpering out his name drove him fucking insane, his hands quickly sliding your panties off and shoving the damp fabric into his back pocket before brushing his thumb over your swollen clit.

you mewled out in pleasure, his smooth thumb making your vision get a little hazy. "so fucking wet, guaio." he groaned quietly, continuing to rub your clit with his thumb.

you didn't see when he pushed a finger deep inside, making you cry out before his free hand smacked over your mouth. "gotta be quiet for me, or i'll have to stop." he hissed, making you whine at the idea of him stopping anytime soon.

"'m s-sorry." you moaned against his palm, hand latching onto his arm. you brought two of his fingers into your mouth, sucking them and coating them with your saliva in order to help keep you quiet while he consumed you.

he played with your body with ruthless precision while you writhed in pure bliss, free hand gripping onto the bookcase beside you as you moaned around his fingers.

he pushed a second finger into you and then a third, stretching your puffy walls out over and over with his thrusts. your knees were practically shaking when his fingers crashed into that familiar, gummy spot that made your toes curl.

he forced his fingers further down your throat once he hit the spot, keeping you from screaming out in pleasure while you came all over his hand.

theo relished in your pussy walls fluttering around his fingers, the squelching sounds of your wetness coating his hand making his trousers feel fucking unbearable at this point.

he pulled his fingers out of both your holes, letting you catch your breath for just a second before shoving his cum-soaked fingers back into your mouth. "clean them for me, will you guaio?" he cooed, a borderline deranged smirk on his face as you did just that.

"cazzo, i can't enough of you." (fuck) he huffed, pulling his fingers back out and spinning you towards the bookcase. he pressed your face lightly against the bookcase, bringing his hands down to quickly bring his cock out from his pants.

you gripped onto the bookcase for support, face pressed against some old atlas' no one ever used anymore will your nipples scraped the smooth wood.

"you're gonna be the fucking death of me, guaio." he hissed, before lifting your skirt back up and thrusting roughly into you. you gasped and moaned against the shelf, unable to help yourself before his fingers pushed back into your mouth.

you gagged and sucked on his two fingers while he thrusted roughly into you, muffling his grunts and groans of pleasure into your neck. his lips latched onto your sweet spot, teeth scraping over it repeatedly as he fucked you.

"so fucking tight, guaio. such a good fucking girl for me. you drive me fucking insane." he grunted, each word followed by a fast and rough thrust and made your whole body shake with pleasure as he fucked you.

his free hand gripped your waist tightly, keeping you from rocking the shelf as best he could while he moved roughly in and out of you. your tongue swirled around his fingers, muffled babbles about how fucking good you felt escaping your lips.

the neat and pristine man relished in turning you into a dumb, babbling mess. your own drool and saliva coated your chin as he fucked you.

it wasn't long before your legs started quivering and your pussy walls started to clench tighter around him. "'m gonna- f-fuck, 'm gonna cum!" you whined, the wet sounds of you gagging on his fingers and his cock pounding your pussy drove you insane.

theo bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, forcing himself to stay quiet while he lost himself in your tight walls. his eyes were fixed on where you two were connected, the sight of your arousal creating a creamy white ring around his cock nearly sent him over the edge.

"cum for me, guaio. be a good girl and cum on my cock." he cooed in your ear, gripping your hip even tighter to fuck deeper into you until you coated his cock in your cum.

you had a couple tears running down your cheeks, mascara clumping as he continued to fuck you hard and fast until he reached his own high and painted your walls with his cum.

he buried his now sweat covered forehead into the crook of your neck, trying to catch his breath while you panted. he pulled his fingers back from your mouth, letting them drag over your kiss swollen lips and chin.

theodore nott had fucking ruined you and he was sure you had done exactly the same, he had the crescent shapes etched into his arm to prove it.

"what does guaio mean?" you asked suddenly, absolutely butchering the pronunciation as you blinked your doe eyes at him. you would have looked so innocent if it weren't for the saliva and streaks of black.

"it means trouble, bambola." (doll)

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[mrsshabana]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, vaginal sex, creampie, age difference, angst, fluff, daddy issues, mommy issues, modern au ꔫ‧₊ Note 7.7k words. If you can guess the secret reference in this fic, I love you ♡ ✧:･ﾟ→ Part one ✧:･ﾟ→ Part three

“I really let myself go, man…” Gyutaro mumbles to himself as he carefully shaves his face. Leaning closer to the mirror as he focuses on getting rid of the facial hair he's been too lazy to shave. Well, really it's been a combination of stress and laziness. He's been pretty stressed ever since you came over and he kicked you out. But after you agreed to go on a date with him he knew he had to clean himself up and make himself look nice for you. 

The whole time he tries to pep himself up, “You got this, you got this… it’s only probably your last chance at love. No pressure,” yeah that pep talk ended up making him even more nervous. 

But there's no time to dwell on it, he's supposed to be at your place in 20 minutes to pick you up. So he hurriedly finishes his grooming, puts on some nice clothes, and grabs his keys. 

As he drives over to your place, you pace around your room nervously. Thinking about the hundreds of possibilities that could take place during this date. To say you’re nervous would be an understatement. 

You think Gyutaro is an amazing guy, but you can't help but feel cautious about the fact that he's so much older than you. You may be naive but you’re no idiot. You know how a lot of older men view younger women, like they're some kind of trophy or toy. Gyutaro never gave you those kinds of vibes, but you want to be mindful just in case. 

As soon as you hear a car pulling up to your driveway you grab your purse, slip on your shoes, and bolt out the door. Gyutaro's car pulls up to your house, looking very shiny as he must have recently taken it to the car wash. 

He parks the car and steps out to greet you, and as soon as his eyes land on you his cheeks turn pink. Becoming flustered by how beautiful you look, especially in that floral dress that's perfect for the botanical gardens. 

“H-Hey Y/N,” he waves shyly, walking over to you. 

“Hey, Gyutaro!” You make the bold decision to walk up to him and give him a hug. By reading his body language you can tell he isn't angry at you anymore so you decide to go for it. 

He's surprised at first because he's never touched you like this before, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it. And the same goes for you. The way his strong muscled arms wrap around you sends shivers down your spine. Not to mention the masculine scent of his cologne, so much more attractive than the axe that guys your age typically wear.

“You look really beautiful, by the way,” he says as he pulls away from the hug. Looking down at you with a flustered expression, glancing at your dress but trying not to stare too hard.

“Aw thank you! You look very handsome,” you smile and run your fingers along the hem of his shirt, “This color looks good on you.” You admire the way the white fabric clings to his biceps. White isn't a color he typically wears, but it's getting hot out and he figured it'd be more comfortable. Now that you complimented him though, he’s feeling a million times more confident with his outfit decision. Even though it’s just a nice button-up shirt and some jeans. 

“Thanks,” his blush deepens and he opens the passenger side door for you.

You thank him as you hop inside. 

The drive to the botanical gardens was pretty quiet, there's an awkwardness that lingers in the air. Mostly from the situation where you last saw Gyutaro in person. It didn't go well, to say the least, and going from leaving his house in tears to now going on a romantic date, it's quite the contrast and there was no conversation acknowledging what happened. A part of you wants to bring it up but you feel like it might ruin the date so you decide to save it for another time. 

Once at the botanical gardens, Gyutaro parks his car in the parking lot and then comes over to open your door for you.

“Thanks,” you blush at the chivalrous gesture.

“Have you ever been here before?” Gyutaro asked nervously as the two of you walk towards the entrance.

“No,” you shake your head, “I've always wanted to come though!”

“W-well I’m glad I chose this then,” he blushes as he shows the employee at the entrance the tickets he bought online. Once admitted inside the two of you follow the designated path to view the gardens. 

He looks down at you, observing your beauty instead of that of the rose bushes beside you. He can't bring himself to pay attention to them right now. All he can think about is you, how beautiful you are, and how he wishes he was in his 20s again so he wouldn't feel so weird about this date. He feels like everyone is judging him for being out with you, but in reality no one really notices. 

He's been on two first dates in his entire life, and they didn't go well considering he never got a second one. Both of those dates were over five years ago. And by now he's forgotten how to do it, but let's be honest he never knew to begin with. 

Should he hold your hand? Should he talk to you? Or should he just keep staring at you? He quickly looks away when he realizes how long he’s been staring at you, and that you must have noticed him from the corner of your eye by now. 

“Shit, I wish I knew what I was doing,” he thinks to himself, “Things feel so awkward right now… I should probably clear the air if I want any chance of this date going well.”

He takes a deep breath before speaking, “Hey uh, Y/N?”

“Hm?” you hum, looking up at him through your fluttery lashes. 

“Can we talk about what happened the other night?” he says hesitantly, looking to the side, avoiding eye contact out of nervousness.

“Sure,” you say, leading him over to a bench where you can talk more privately. 

When he sits he takes a deep sigh and rolls his fingers through his hair, trying to think of the right words to say. 

“I'm sorry,” he just spits it out, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, my reaction was uncalled for and I overreacted…”

You instantly feel a weight lift off your shoulders when hearing his apology. “It’s ok, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said what I said… I wasn't thinking and it wasn't the right way to tell you how I felt.” You look down, feeling a bit ashamed and embarrassed about what you said to him that day. 

He smiles, chuckling to himself as he recalls your statement. It was pretty bold for you to flat out say he should get with a younger girl like you. 

“You don't need to apologize. It was my fault for assuming that you liked me based on that statement…”

“Well, I do like you,” you smile and take his hand, “so you assumed right.”

His cheeks turn pink and he stutters, “R-really…?”

He's left speechless, but on the inside he's doing summersaults. In all honesty he wasn't sure if you liked him in that way, especially after everything that happened. A part of him thought you were just being nice to him and giving him a suggestion without insinuating your feelings for him at all. That maybe he jumped to the conclusion that you liked him because he already liked you himself. 

And through today’s date he was hoping to find out how you really felt. If you liked him back, it'd be a romantic date. Or if you didn’t it could just be a friend date where you could make up. He’s happy that this is going to be a romantic date instead. 

“Of course really! I started liking you ever since that night you fell asleep on the couch and I made dinner for you…”

His blush deepens, “Th-that's when I started liking you too… but my head told me you were off limits so…”

“How come?”

“You know,” he nervously scratches the back of his neck, “Because I'm so much older than you and you're my sister’s friend.”

“You're really hung up on the age thing huh?” you stand up and pull his wrist till he stands up, “I really like that you're older than me… so don’t be so hard on yourself, ok? Being older doesn't make you bad, it just makes you different, and I like all of those differences compared to guys my age.”

“Th-thanks,” he whimpers, feeling like his heart is going to explode. 

Now that the air has been cleared and the purpose of this outing has been established, the two of you make your way through the gardens. Admiring the beautiful flowers, the butterflies, and of course the cute expression on Gyutaro's face the entire time. 

You make sure to take lots of photos of the two of you. Gyutaro looks so awkward when you try to take selfies with him, but it's kind of cute. The best one is where he didn't even realize you were taking a photo and he's looking at you, blushing with a smile on his face. 

As the two of you near the end of the gardens, you walk by a large koi pond filled with beautiful lotus flowers and surrounded by hydrangea bushes. You and Gyutaro decide to take a break and sit by the edge of the pond, peering in and observing the beautiful fish.

“Wow, this is so pretty!” you chime, “I think this is my favorite part.”

“Me too,” he shyly agrees, “Fish are so cool…”

“Maybe for our next date we could go to the aquarium then?” You smile optimistically, already excited to spend more time with him.

“Wait… seriously? You actually want another one?” His eyes widen and he looks at you in disbelief. 

“Of course! This was really fun…”

He blushes and mumbles, “Yeah, it was…” he inches closer to you until his shoulder is right beside yours.

You sit there with him for a while, enjoying the scenery and taking it all in. Gyutaro feels so many things right now, and his heart is pumping at a million miles a minute. He's so psyched that you want another date, it quite frankly feels like a dream. And even though you admitted how much you like him, he's still convinced that he’s going to fuck this up.

“Shit… I'm being too quiet I should say something,” he thinks to himself.

“So uh… my manager fell into a koi pond once,” he blurts out of nowhere.

“What?” you giggle.

“Yeah, he walked straight into it! One of my coworkers got ahold of the security footage and everyone in the office watched it. It was hilarious.”

“Haha! Oh my god, he must have been so embarrassed.”

You continue to giggle as Gyutaro acts out what happened, telling you every detail about how mad his manager was and how he even got sued for accidentally killing one of the fish. 

It's honestly quite strange seeing Gyutaro this way, telling you silly stories and being so talkative. It's a completely different side to him that you had never seen before, but it’s really refreshing to see him this way. And since he’s older than you, you figure he has lots of stories to tell. You hope he'll share more of them with you in the future. 

After sitting at the pond and listening to Gyutaro’s stories, the two of you decide to stop by the gift shop before leaving. 

“I was thinking maybe we could get matching t-shirts?” you exclaim as you begin looking at the racks of shirts in the gift shop. 

“S-sure, that sounds good to me,” he swallows dryly. Isn't getting matching t-shirts something that couples do? But you aren't a couple yet… or are you? He starts sweating nervously as he contemplates the idea of being your boyfriend. He doesn't want to get too ahead of himself but he can't help but swoon over the thoughts that come to mind when imagining himself as your boyfriend. “Wait… does that mean… she might sleep over sometime?” His whole face goes red as he thinks about you lying in his bed with him. It's been so long since he's ever considered such a thing, years to be honest. He hasn't felt this kind of adrenaline in at least 5 years since he gave up on romance. 

“Are you ok?” you ask as you notice how red his face is. 

“Y-Yeah!” he quickly snaps out of it and clears his throat, “I uh I just have allergies.” He laughs nervously hoping you'll accept his lame excuse. 

You frown and hand him a tissue from your purse, “You poor thing, here take this, I get allergies a lot too.”

“Thanks…” his blush only deepens, being taken care of by you flusters him.

“What do you think of these ones?” you hold up a pair of matching t-shirts sporting the logo and name of the gardens, with a beautiful koi pond illustration on the front. 

He can't help but smile, “Those look perfect,” he takes them and slings them over his arm.

“I'm gonna look over here real quick. I want to get something for my friend,” you say.

“No problem, I'll look around too.”

After ten minutes of looking around you notice Gyutaro is waiting for you outside of the gift shop, he must have already paid for everything. Honestly, he just wanted to pay for the shirts when you were occupied so you wouldn't insist on paying, he wanted it to be his treat.   

So you go ahead and check out the item you picked out before meeting him back outside. 

“Got everything you were looking for?” he smiles before taking your hand again.

“Yep!” you eagerly take his hand and look around the courtyard, “I really don't want this date to end yet… would you like to maybe check out that cafe before we go?” you point out a small cafe across from the gift shop.

“You read my mind,” he blushes and walks over to the cafe with you. 

Inside is full of beautiful plants and flower arrangements, making a scenic and relaxing atmosphere. There are only a few people inside too so that makes Gyutaro feel a bit less self conscious. 

“Hey look Gyu! They have cold brew!” you chime as you point up to the menu.

He's immediately caught off guard not only by the nickname but also that you know his favorite kind of coffee. “What-when-how did you know I love cold brew?”

“I saw a bunch of them in your fridge when I was studying with Ume the other night…” you confess. 

He can't help but think that's quite cute, “Ha, well yeah. It is my favorite, I'll let you have a sip of mine.”

Gyutaro orders your drinks and as he hands the pink-haired cashier his debit card she says, “You two are such a cute couple!”

His eyes immediately go wide and he stumbles over his words, unsure of what to say, “I um um w-well we uh...”

“Oh I'm sorry,” she apologizes, “I didn't mean to assume! Are you her teacher or something? Is there a class trip going on today?”

Gyutaro's skin goes pale and he begins choking on the air that was in his lungs. 

You quickly butt in, “Haha no worries, we are a couple actually,” you say nervously hoping Gyutaro won't mind what you've said. 

“Oh! How cute! See I could just tell it was love by the way you were looking at each other!” The girl has hearts in her eyes as she proclaims her joy at seeing a happy couple. 

Gyutaro is still in a non-functioning state of disbelief as you walk him over to a small table and help him sit down. He still can't believe she thought he was your teacher, and not only that but you said you two were a couple! That statement is the only thing making him feel a bit better about your age gap being called out. 

“Are you alright?” you laugh nervously as you put your hand on his shoulder, “It's alright Gyu, at least-”

“Are we a couple?” he cuts you off. 

“Oh um,” you blush, “w-well if you want to be…”

“Do you?” he looks at you with wide eyes, with a mixture of eagerness and desperation.

“Of course I do! I wouldn't have said it if I didn't want it to happen,” you smile and kiss his cheek to reassure him. 

He looks down, cheeks dusted pink and eyes half closed. Sitting there thinking and trying to calm himself down. This is only the first date, are things maybe moving too fast? The thought is in the back of his mind but honestly, he has no relationship experience so he isn't sure what's normal and what's not. 

The thing is, you know Gyutaro well enough to know that you would want to pursue a relationship with him. You don't need multiple dates to tell you that. Your previous interactions with him and this one date have been enough to help you make up your mind. He's honestly everything you want in a partner, you just hope that he will agree. 

Gyutaro still has a lot of concerns, mainly the age difference. But putting that aside, he really does like you. You're sweet, caring, and not to mention beautiful. You go out of your way to take care of him, something he's never experienced before. And you do everything you can to ease his anxieties and you actually make him feel normal. Despite all of his self-sabotaging thoughts, he's not going to let them get in the way of his happiness. 

“Yeah,” he looks up at you with a soft smile, “I'd love to be your boyfriend.”

You can't help the excited squeal that escapes your lips. You immediately run over and hug him, almost knocking him out of his seat. “I'm so excited Gyu! This means we can go on a lot more dates right?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, “But we can't tell Ume, ok? She'd freak out…”

“Don't worry, my lips are sealed!” 

After you receive your drinks you and Gyutaro discuss how to proceed with your relationship. For the most part, you're just like any other couple, the only difference is that you need to keep it hidden from his sister. Which shouldn't be too hard since Ume is always glued to her phone. You'll just need to remember you can't post any photos from your dates with Gyutaro. 

Before leaving the cafe you give Gyutaro a cute pen with bees and flowers on it that you bought for him at the gift shop. He had no idea you were going to buy something for him, but even though it's just a small pen, it means a lot to him and he plans to use it every day at work. 

Gyutaro also gives you a stuffed animal koi fish he found in the gift shop, he thought you'd like it since you spent a lot of time talking together by the koi pond. 

You can't help but tear up at the thoughtful gesture. You've only officially been a couple for less than an hour but you're already seeing proof that becoming his girlfriend was a good decision. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

The date went a lot better than either of you had expected, but unfortunately, things won't be so easy from now on. 

Not only do you have classes and Gyutaro has work, but the only times you get to see each other is when Ume is around so you have to pretend your relationship doesn't exist.

Gyutaro will usually give you a generic greeting if he comes home from work to see you studying with Ume, and act indifferent towards you. Only to text you as soon as he gets in his room telling you how beautiful you look and how much he misses you. 

It's hard having to hide your feelings every time you see him. But you know it's necessary. And it's not all bad because sometimes Gyutaro will tell Ume he is working overtime when in reality he's taking you out for dinner or to a movie. Most often ending the night with a heated kiss in the car before he drops you off back at your place. 

For once in his life he actually feels genuine happiness. Like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and maybe all of his hard work is actually paying off. He feels a higher sense of purpose now. Instead of his only purpose being Ume, he has you. It feels good to have someone else care about you, someone that has no other reason to other than the fact that they love you. 

Not to mention every time you come over to study with Ume you bring homecooked food with you. After Gyutaro told you his dad was Japanese and he loved eating his cooking, you’ve experimented with Japanese recipes just for him. You have no idea how much that means to him. 

Like today, when he came home from work, immediately the smell of nostalgia hit his nose. 

“No way…” he smiles excitedly as he kicks off his shoes and runs over to the kitchen. “Holy shit!”

Entering the kitchen he sees neatly packed portions of curry rice, one of his favorite meals his dad would make before he passed away. 

He looks around for you, but the living room and kitchen are empty. Though if he listens closely he can hear you and Ume laughing in her room. 

Wasting no time opening one of the tupperware containers and digging in, Gyutaro thinks about how lucky he is to have you in his life. Not to mention how thankful he feels that you go out of your way to cook for him. After a long and exhausting day at the office, this is exactly what he needs. He’ll make sure to thank you later.

It’s not long before Gyutaro is passed out in bed. After binging on your food and changing out of his work clothes he was fast asleep in under ten minutes. 

And so was Ume. She fell asleep on her bed watching TikToks as you finished up her online quiz for her. It’s already past 11 pm, but you didn’t pack anything to sleep over. Not that you’d mind staying the night, it’s not like you have a way home anyway. Unless you asked Gyutaro to take you home but you would rather let him rest.

Though that does give you a devious idea.

A little while later Gyutaro wakes up to the feeling of someone crawling into bed with him. 

“Ume…?” he rasps, rubbing his eyes. It’s been so long since his sister has gotten into his bed. She’s only ever done it when she had a terrible nightmare or was extremely upset by something. But that was years ago. He can’t imagine what would have upset her so much to make her do it tonight. 

“Are you alright- WAIT, Y/N?” His eyes widen when he realizes it was actually you who crawled into bed with him. Immediately his cheeks turn pink and his body stiffens. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you blush as you notice he’s shirtless, “But I just wanted to spend some time with you… it’s been a while.”

“Y-yeah it has, but where’s Ume?”

“She fell asleep a while ago,” you say shyly.

“O-Oh, I see. W-Well I don’t mind you staying here with me for the night I guess,” he stutters, “But you gotta be out before Ume wakes up, ok?”

“Ok!” you say happily as you cling to him and nuzzle your face against his chest. 

Gyutaro’s whole body feels frozen in place as he feels your body press against him. Not to mention the pressure he feels building beneath his pajama pants. 

His whole body heats up and he feels like he’s suffocating. He’s full of nervousness and excitement. Never in his life has someone been so physically close to him. “Oh god… what do I do with my hands?” he thinks to himself as he swallows dryly. 

Would it be rude to touch you? He’s so self-conscious about crossing a boundary or making you uncomfortable even though you’re his girlfriend. He just really doesn’t want to mess this up. And all the insecurities surrounding him being older than you just make it a million times worse. His inner voice yelling at him that he’s a creep. That he’s too old to be doing this with you. Or worse, that he’s taking advantage of you in some way. 

“Hey, are you ok?” you look up at him, noticing that something is off, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“No no! It’s not you,” he laughs nervously, “I like being close to you like this, I just… I just feel weird… I’m just some old loser-”

You cut him off by quickly grabbing his face and pressing your lips against his, giving him a soft and heartfelt kiss. His eyes widen at first but he can’t help but relax into your affection, slowly closing his eyes and resting his hands on your waist.

“You aren’t old, and you aren’t a loser,” you whisper as you pull away from the kiss, “You’re my boyfriend and I love you.”

That shut up the negative voices in his head real quick. 

“Y-You love me?” he blushes, looking at you with tears in his eyes. 

“I do, I love you so much,” you smile sweetly as you caress his cheek, looking into his eyes to let him know you really mean it.

He takes a shaky breath, really taking your words in. Could it really be true? He knew things were going well with you but he honestly never expected you to actually fall in love with him. Things never go this well for him. It has to be a trick, right? … no, no it can’t be a trick. Maybe, just maybe it really is true. And maybe it really is what he deserves. After all the hell he’s been through for the past 35 years of his pathetic existence, it all had to be for something right? Could this really be it? It has to be because staring back at him is everything he’s ever wanted and more. 

“I love you too,” he states. It’s the first thing he’s ever said to you with full confidence. 

He’s so sure of himself in fact, that he does something bold. He pins you to the bed and intertwines his lips with yours, quickly running his tongue along your lip begging for access. Of course, you’re quick to grant it to him. 

Even though his actions seem aggressive, his kiss is gentle and passionate. Confirming the strong feelings he has for you. 

But you suddenly feel something strange. Something wet splatters across your cheek. 

You open your eyes to see tears clumped to his eyelashes, sparkling in the moonlight before they drop onto your skin. 

You feel a pang in your chest, but it only makes you kiss him more fervently. You want to make sure he knows how much you love him, and that you want to be his. 

In the heat of the moment, you break away from the kiss and begin taking off your clothes. Throwing your shirt and pants to the floor. Before Gyutaro can even react you’re pulling him in for another kiss, not giving him an opportunity to second guess himself or let his insecurities seep through. 

He doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead, moving along as you guide him on top of you. Allowing him to lay comfortably between your legs. Immediately you feel his hard-on press against you through his pajamas. No wonder he’s moaning so desperately into the kiss, he must want you pretty damn badly. 

“Y/N…” he pants.

“It’s ok Gyu, you can do whatever you want to me,” you whisper to him, “I trust you. And I promise I want you as badly as you want me…” You bite your lip as you take his hand and guide it into your panties, letting him feel just how wet you are for him. 

His jaw literally drops and his entire face turns red. He can’t believe this is happening right now. 

“Y-You’re so wet…” he mutters, feeling his member twitch involuntarily. 

“Just means I’m ready for you…”

“Wha- oh!” he blushes and looks down, unable to process that you’re actually asking him to do this. And he wants it too, he really does, he’s just nervous. 

“Hey, it’s ok if you aren’t ready. We don’t have to do it tonight,” you smile and rub his shoulder, trying to reassure him that whatever he’s feeling is ok.

“N-No that’s not it, I really do want to. I-I just… don’t know how,” he looks away, completely ashamed to admit to you that he’s a virgin. 

“It’s ok, just do what feels natural. I can guide you if you need help,” you say in the most understanding and kind tone. Making him feel comfortable that you won’t judge him. 

“Alright…” with a shy smile he sits up and grabs the hem of his pants. 

You’ve already seen him shirtless which is honestly the worst of it, and if that doesn’t disgust you then maybe you won’t be repulsed by his dick either. That’s his hope at least. He takes a deep breath and pulls down his pants. His cock immediately springing free. 

He feels his heart rate speed up when it’s finally out and he realizes you can actually see it. He looks down at you, praying that he won’t see a disgusted look on your face. But all he sees is lust in your eyes, no hints of distaste whatsoever. And it’s confirmed when you reach over and begin jerking him off. A desperately pathetic whimper leaves his lips as soon as you begin stroking him. He already feels weak to his knees. 

“Wow Gyu,” you say in awe as you stroke up and down his length. 

He tries to respond but his words get jumbled together and he mutters nonsensical sounds mixed with moans. 

A million worries are going through his head right now, “Wait - should I have gotten circumcised before this?! Shit, I should have shaved more!! Oh fuck fuck fuck.” But none of those things matter at all because you think he’s perfect just the way he is. 

It’s obvious just how nervous he still is, so you hope a hand job to warm him up will help calm his nerves. In the meantime, you admire what he’s kept hidden this whole time. How his shaft has birthmarks on it to match the rest of his beautiful body. It’s something he’s always been insecure about but you have always loved them. And there’s a neat patch of hair right above it too, it looks like he keeps it trimmed, matched with a trail of sparse hairs leading down from his belly button. It’s an odd observation but you find it quite sexy. 

“B-Babe,” he whimpers, “I think- I think m’ready.”

Honestly, you were so enamored by him that you didn’t even notice how close you got him to cumming. “Oh haha sorry, I got a bit carried away.” 

You quickly take off your bra and panties and lay back down again, allowing him to position himself on top of you. 

Holding your thigh with one hand and the base of his cock with the other, he looks down in between your legs. Trying not to hyperventilate. 

“R-Ready?” he stutters. 

“I’m ready, Gyu.”

He takes a deep breath and slowly slides into you. It takes him a few seconds to find the right spot, but he quickly finds it. His grip on your thigh tightens as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. You can’t stop the moans that escape your mouth as you feel him completely fill you up. 

“Hah.. ngh- oh fuck…” he whimpers. 

“Ah- Gyu,” you moan as you pull him in for a kiss. Wanting to give him as much reassurance that he’s doing a good job. 

Getting lost in the pleasure and love you give him, he begins thrusting into you. Sharply bucking his hips as his tongue dances around your mouth. 

For once, his negative thoughts are quiet and he is solely focused on this moment. A moment he thought he didn’t deserve, a moment he gave up on wishing for. But now, he’s glad he gets to have this moment with you. 

And even though he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, he still tries his best to make you comfortable and put your needs first. “H-How can I make you cum?”

“Huh?” you’re honestly taken aback by what you heard him say. 

“I wanna make you cum… b-but I don’t know how,” he blushes and looks away in embarrassment. He’s the older one, he should know how to pleasure you, but he’s ashamed to admit his lack of experience. But even so, he won’t let that get in the way of his desire to put you first. 

Every day he gives you more and more reasons to be thankful you’re dating someone in their 30s, and this is one of them. You can’t say you’d expect a guy your age to want to put you first like that. But Gyutaro is mature and caring in nature, so of course he wants to take care of his girl.

“Oh honey,” you smile and caress his cheek, “you’re already doing a great job, but when you do this it feels really good…” You have him lower himself more onto you, your chests touching, and then you grab his hips and reposition them. Pulling him a bit closer so that with every thrust his pubic bone, and the patch of hair that sits there, stimulate your clit. 

“J-just like that,” you pant, “stay close and k-keep going.”

He nods and focuses on moving in a way that elicits the most moans from you. He may be lost in pleasure, but he’s also paying attention to you. 

He picks up the pace, pressing his entire body against you, wrapping his muscled arms around you, and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His desperate moans and the slapping of skin fill his bedroom. A once quiet room where he’s spent countless nights alone. 

Feeling that all too familiar tightness form in your stomach, you arch your back and spread your legs wider, allowing him to hit your sweet spot. Continuously ramming his cock into you, a mixture of your fluids coating his shaft. 

He felt himself getting close a long time ago, you have no idea how hard he’s trying to contain himself right now. But his desire to pleasure you drives him to go faster and faster, the sounds of your heavenly moans next to his ear make it almost impossible for him not to fill you with his seed this very instant. But he holds out, determined to make sure you finish first. No matter how torturous it may be for him. 

When he feels your thighs tremble and your walls clench around him, he knows you must be close. 

“Please,” he whimpers, “Please cum for me Y-Y/N! Ngh! M’gonna cum too!”

He squeezes his eyes shut and collides his lips with yours, desperately kissing you as he picks up his pace, thrusting as hard as he physically can. Until he just can’t hold it in any longer, and he’s moaning into your mouth as his cock twitches inside of you, painting your insides white. 

And even though he’s feeling overly sensitive and vulnerable, he continues thrusting into you to ensure you reach your peak too. And it isn’t but a few seconds before you’re crashing with him. Tightening your legs around his hips and moaning his name. A sweet sound he never thought he’d hear. 

Collapsed on top of you, he pants in an attempt to catch his breath, holding you close and just basking in the feeling of you. Letting it all sink in that he finally got to do something he’s always wanted. Quite frankly, he’s never been happier. So happy in fact, that he doesn’t even realize that he came inside of you without asking. 

But after a few minutes, he finally pulls out of you and kisses you once more. “That was perfect…” he whispers as he moves a strand of hair out of your face, “I’ll be right back.” 

He quickly goes to his bathroom to get a wet cloth, then comes back and starts cleaning you up. It’s not until then that it dawns on him and his expression changes from one of pure joy to immense guilt. 

“Oh shit… I-I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m such an asshole,” you can see his heart slowly starting to break as he realizes what he’s done. He feels so incredibly selfish and disrespectful for finishing inside of you. It’s something he’s never intended to do, he was just so caught in the moment he didn’t stop to think about it. 

“Gyutaro,” you coo, hugging him and kissing his cheek, “It’s alright, if I didn’t want you to do it I would have told you so. I really don’t mind at all.”

“A-Are you sure? But I should’ve asked if it was ok…”

“You’re my boyfriend now, and I trust you. I told you I loved you, didn’t I?”

“Y-Yeah,” he nods and hugs you back, “Thank you…”

“I would have said it was ok anyway, so don’t worry. You did everything right,” you kiss him again and rub his back.

Gyutaro’s surprised you aren’t making a big deal out of him not pulling out, but he’s glad you aren’t mad. Maybe he’s making a bigger deal out of it because he’s older and has a better grasp on the consequences. Or perhaps it is normal for couples to do it that way. He wouldn’t know. But either way, he feels lucky to have had such a moment with you. 

After the two of you are done cleaning you snuggle up together in his bed, not bothering to put clothes on. Gyutaro wraps his arms around you and holds you close all night. Falling asleep feeling like his life is finally on the right track. His dreams filled of your future together. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

At 6 am Gyutaro wakes you up to take you home. You’re reluctant to get out of bed with him because you were so comfortable, but you know it’s probably best to go home before his sister wakes up. 

It’s strange because there has always been a slight awkwardness between you and Gyutaro, like something was preventing you from getting closer to each other. Maybe it was his insecurities or maybe it was the pressure of dating someone with such a large age gap. Who knows, but whatever it is, it’s gone now. After last night that awkwardness is completely gone. And the two of you feel closer and more comfortable together than ever before. It makes leaving him this morning even more difficult. 

But you don’t have a choice so you quickly get dressed and sneak into Gyutaro’s car with him. 

Once he gets to your home, he parks in front of your house and gets out of the car to come open the door for you. 

“Thanks,” you giggle and kiss his cheek, “such a gentleman.”

“I try,” he blushes, “Um by the way… I think I’m gonna tell Ume about us. Is that alright?”

“Oh, yeah! Of course! I don’t mind if you tell her, it’s probably best coming from you.”

“Yeah, hopefully she takes it well…” he trails off. 

“Well, good luck,” you give him one last hug and kiss, “I love you.”

“I-I love you too, we’ll hang out again soon!” He blows you a kiss as he watches you walk into your house, feeling a warm sensation creep into him. This must be what love feels like. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

A few hours later Ume wakes up, and Gyutaro makes pancakes for her in an attempt to get her in a good mood so she’ll take the news a bit easier. 

He sits down with her at the table as they eat together, “So Ume, I uh… I have something to tell you.” 

“Hm?” she hums with her mouth full. 

“So um,” he says hesitantly, “I have a girlfriend.”

Her eyes widen and she immediately leaps out of her seat and gives him a tight hug, “Oh my god!!! Why didn’t you tell me?! This is great! I’m so happy for you, brother!! Who is she?”

Gyutaro is warmed by his sister's positive reaction so he feels a bit more at ease. “Well um, you already know her…”

“I do?” she quirks a brow, seemingly confused since she can’t think of anyone she knows who would be dating her brother. 

“It’s… it’s Y/N.”

She immediately lets go of him and takes a step back, looking him up and down in disgust. “You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not joking, Ume,” he begins to get nervous, “We’ve been dating for a while and I didn’t tell you because I was afraid of how you’d react… please don’t be mad.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Gyutaro?” she pushes his chest, “That’s disgusting!! What’s wrong with you?!” 

“Please Ume, I-”

“She’s younger than me!! You know that don’t you?? Please don’t tell me you guys are fucking too!”

He looks away, feeling completely ashamed. 

Filled with rage, Ume slaps him in the face, “You’re disgusting!! I’m leaving!” She storms off to her room and begins packing her things. 

Gyutaro is left in utter shock, standing there holding his cheek and feeling the sting from her hand. Never in his entire life has his sister put her hands on him like that. Tears begin to fill his eyes, but even though he’s full of sadness he can’t help but be angry too. 

When Ume comes back into the dining room with a bag full of her things he grabs her by the arm and yells at her, “You have no right to say that to me!”

“Like hell I do!” she yanks her arm away from him, “Not only are you sleeping with my best friend, but she’s also 14 years younger than you! Don’t you realize how creepy and predatory that is?!”

“It isn’t! She’s a grown fucking woman!!” he finally stands up for himself, “I didn’t fall in love with her because she’s young, I fell in love with her because she’s an amazing person and she accepts me for who I am! And she actually appreciates the things I do! Unlike you!!”

“Shut up!” she clenches her fists and stomps over to the front door, “You’re just like all those old desperate creeps who are too pathetic to get with a woman their age!!”

“Can I not be happy, Ume? You know I’ve dedicated my entire life to you and now that I want to do something for myself you insult me! Are you kidding me? The only one acting pathetic here is you. I’ve lived so much of my life alone and living in your shadow, and I’ve finally found someone that makes me happy… can’t you just be happy for me?”

She frowns, “No, I can’t,” and with that she leaves, slamming the door behind her. 

Gyutaro stands there, completely dumbfounded. A mixture of emotions swirling inside of him. But the strongest one is sadness. Sad that this sister isn’t happy for him, sad that she can’t support him like he’s always done for her, and sad that her words about him being a creep may actually be true.

After his night with you, he was feeling confident and proud, but now it’s all crumbling apart and he can’t help but feel like a complete and utter loser. Maybe his sister is right, maybe he is just a pathetic middle-aged man who’s so desperate for love that he goes after someone younger than him. 

He slumps into the couch and lets these negative thoughts consume him. Until he feels his phone buzz. 

“Hey Gyu! How’d it go with Ume? You should call me and spill the tea!”

A text from his girlfriend. 

He can’t help but smile. You explained to him what “tea” meant but he had already forgotten. You’ll have to teach him again. 

Seeing how casually you text him makes him think about how happy he feels every time he receives a message from you. He knows what Ume said isn’t true, but that doesn’t mean her words don’t hurt. 

He needs you, and he needs you now. You’re the only person that he can talk to about this, and the only person who will be able to comfort him. 

So, he doesn’t bother replying and he just drives over to your house. His heart feels broken but he knows you’ll be able to mend it, like you always do. 

After parking in your driveway, he runs up to the front door and knocks. 

“Hello?” an older women opens the door. She looks a bit older than Gyutaro and has similar features to you.

“Holy shit, is this her mom?” he thinks to himself. “Fuck! I should have texted her and asked if it was ok to come over…”

“Er um… is Y/N here?” he says nervously. 

“Yes, she is,” your mom quirks her brow and looks him up and down, “And who the hell are you?”

Gyutaro gulps, sweating nervously. He knows he can’t just say he’s your boyfriend, she’s probably not too fond of the idea of her 21-year-old daughter dating a man in his 30s. And this is when Gyutaro realizes, he’s fucked.

Taglist: @gyusimp @chibi-absol @kyu-kitsune @idontevenknowlsjsbsbdj @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @sterzin @cherrysxuya @angelicsaiko @misskaorii @matsukaah @merryclaus @dawn-rays-dingo @hoshigafuru (feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, your age must be listed on your blog. Also some of the usernames tagged aren't underlined? They are when I am on the editing screen so I'm not sure what's happening! If you know how to fix it please let me know!) ♡

[aweina]

ᰔ. wrong package : mike schmidt — suggestive warning !! + ft. secondhand embarrassment.

next door neighbor mike who randomly appears in front of your doorstep, an unusual flushed look in his tired features. neither of you have been formally acquainted, if you don’t count the forced awkward exchanges when getting the mail outside.

although, mike was good looking despite his unkempt demeanor — the remnant memories of his stiff politeness and husk voice had you fawning over him for as long as you were made aware of his presence. but it seems like he’d rather get to work or rest at home than getting to know any of his neighbors.

but now, he stands in front of you shifting one foot over the other — his wavering eyes settling onto the torn box in his grasp rather than your face. there was a bob to his throat, swallowing down on his thickening saliva in anticipation.

“uh sorry to bother you, but i’ve actually gotten your package on accident and ummm … i opened it.” his fumbling words shot through his lips like he’s in a rush, but you still manage to make his statement coherent.

he directs your curious eyes over the beaten package and immediately, your polite smile turned into a silent scream. the rabbit vibrator that you ordered online was hastily covered in some old newspaper — what mike probably did beforehand out respect of your already invaded privacy. the hot pink color and obnoxious packaging taunting you. your name was bold and printed on the delivery sticker, sparing you no excuses for your erotic purchase.

your dilated pupils and now flushed complexion made mike feel apologetic, yet somewhat amused. his encounters with you were a rarity, but he made sure to remember those moments. like when you would focus on reading the mail beside the shared mailbox, the way your face looked so cute carefully squinting and mumbling each word. or even that time you mistaken his sister as his daughter, the same dust of pink settled onto your cheeks like it did now.

mike formed an impression that you’re put together and tooth achingly innocent, but after accidentally opening your package — his superficial thoughts about you has gone down south and into the depths of a more lustrous head space.

how would you look like using it? what would you sound like? crude and carnal ideas spilling over the mental image of your face, his senses clouded with this new epiphany.

he carefully hovers his hand over yours and guides them with a phantom touch, placing the package gently in your stiffened grasp. the furrow in your brows and lack of response made him worried you might pass out — but then you began to sputter a shy “thank you”, your quivering eyes never meeting his. it was a nice look, he couldn’t deny it.

“i won’t tell, promise.” his previous nervous manner completely melted away as he teases you for a bit, his pointer finger pressed against his friendly smile — like it could somehow permanently seal his lips from exposing your status on your sex life.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak — not when you heart feels like it’s about to explode while your body temperature is fighting between haunting chills or overwhelming heat. the gaze in his eyes was much more darker and relaxed than before. weirdly enough, you trust him like you’ve known him your whole life. mike gives you a friendly farewell before he makes his way back into his house.

slowly shutting the door with a solid click, you immediately pathetically fall to your knees and shriek in absolute horror — the box crashing down with you and revealing the one thing that made this rare exchange so humiliating, embarrassment settling so thick in your core. your hot neighbor knowing you’re sexually active? currently getting off to a dingy sex toy? you cannot go back outside again, not if you’re going to possibly see him. hell, you cannot even use the toy without thinking of mike. it’s like he cursed it with some spell, the whispers of his name draw closer each passing second whenever you gaze at the toy.

his ears perk at the bloodcurdling scream that pierced through your closed windows — one so loud and dramatic, it sounded like an active crime scene. he couldn’t help but helplessly laugh into his baggy sleeves, prickles of tears in the corners of his eyes. it’s been awhile since he’s laughed like that, it was needed. returning back home felt less eventful, your embarrassment still making him chuckle under his breath and somewhat eager to see it on you again.

of course, there’s no shame of getting yourself off, but if you needed a helping hand — mike would gladly come over and do his due diligence to be the perfect neighbor. with his new image of you carved into his mind and colorful second impression of you, maybe it’s time for him to make a more formal introduction of himself, once you actually start recovering from your eternal embarrassment.