#I just love not doing the dishes if I don’t have to

[trickbxbes]

Hey girl!

Love your work, especially the Dae-ho stuff and I’m so glad I found your page!!!!

If I can, can I request more smut… WHO SAID THAT

I don’t know if you need an idea, maybe if you do what I’d Dae-ho and fem reader are in an established relationship and they haven’t had sex in a WHILE, you got it from there ;)

-🦑

Omg I’m so sorry I didn’t see this but yes >:)

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 (18+)

[𝐃𝐚𝐞-𝐇𝐨 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

Summary: You and Dae-Ho have been extraordinarily busy trying to stay afloat from all the debt. It led to long days, and shorter nights. Both of you spending less and less time with each other. But one argument actually helps release some long built tension :)

Warnings: Smut, Minor arguing, angry turned passionate sex, kitchen fucking, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex,

Word Count: 1,703

Your shoulders slack as you finally get home, holding your purse close to you as a reminder to stay awake. It was a long night at work. Your eyes stung from the dryness. You fumble for the keys to your shared apartment with your boyfriend, Dae-Ho. Debt had been weighing heavily on both your shoulders and his. Many times did you come home to your lover already asleep, and many times did you wake up to an empty bed.

Entering your home, you’re surprised to see the living room light still on. Dae-Ho was sitting at the dining table, back hunched slightly over his laptop. He turns to see you arrive, squinting his eyes and then rubbing them.

“Hi, honey. Wow, is it that late already?”

He checks the clock on the screen. You nod, rubbing your head. A migraine had creeped its way to the left side of your skull. You flick on the kitchen light to get yourself some water. But you’re greeted by a ghastly sight, dirty dishes stacked up in the sink. The chronic stress you were under turned your minor irritation into full frustration.

“Dae-Ho, I thought I told you to clean that…!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. Dae-Ho leans back in his chair, getting scolded making it harder for him to not get defensive.

“‘m sorry, I thought I did it already. I have a lot of stuff to do too, you know.”

His tone made him come off a little more self justifying than he intended, which further amplified your annoyance. You hum, looking to the ground.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure.” You mutter sarcastically. Dae-Ho’s eyebrows furrow as you go and grab a glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He sat up a bit straighter. “It means I’m not the one in 250 mil debt, Dae-Ho!” You knew you’d regret being so harsh but right now you couldn’t care less. A dry chuckle leaves his lips. “Don’t act so innocent. You’re in mil debt territory too!”

“I just wanna come home to a clean house!”

“You want me to do it so bad? Fine!”

Dae-Ho gets up from his seat and storms to the sink. “Y’know more than half of these are yours, though.” He’d say quietly, wanting an end to the conflict but also wanting to get that point across. You grip at your hair, your teeth grit. “Why are you making this so difficult? You think I like coming home super late and being so tired I can’t do anything but crawl in bed? I miss you!” You raise your voice, but lowering your volume mid shout. As angry as you were, you didn’t forget your boyfriend’s discomfort with shouting and aggression.

He’s about to turn on the sink, still heated. “I miss you too—!” Until he saw you pulling your hair, making him instinctively grab your wrist. “Stop that-!”

You jerk, trying to release yourself. “I wouldn’t be this pissed off if you had just did what you said!” Your struggling made you step back, now feeling the cold kitchen counter on your back.

“You think I like going to bed alone too? Barely being able to see you, huh?!”

His breath is hot on your face, the close proximity being mere inches. You find yourself staring up at him. Being pinned to the counter, his rough grip on your wrist, it made a certain heat rise in your stomach. You both don’t say anything for a few minutes, just glaring at each other. Until you use your free hand to grab the side of his neck and pull him in for a searing kiss.

Dae-Ho makes a surprised sound before reciprocating, groaning against your lips. He lets go of your wrist, instead choosing to grab your hips and pull you closer to his body. He presses you further against the counter, making you moan lightly as you had your hands tangled in his hair.

You lift a leg up, giving Dae-Ho a chance to grab your under thigh and lift your leg higher. You feel his bulge against your wet core, he was already getting hard. Had it really been that long since you two have done it?

You hook your leg around his waist, grinding against his body. A deep rumble leaves Dae-Ho’s throat, he pulls back, a string of saliva connecting you both. “Fuck…” He pants for air. Disappointment and anxiety creeped up faster than you could’ve imagined. This was the first time you two were this passionate in awhile. You couldn’t let him pull away now.

You grab the cuff of his shirt and yank him back toward you. Oh that shirt, you always hated it. The design reminded you of some clown graffiti you’d see in a sketchy part of town. You’d rather see your boyfriend without it on.

As you kiss him again, you slide your hands up underneath his shirt. His skin was hot, his hips stuttered as you ran your fingers over his abs. Dae-Ho shuddered a little. But he leaned closer, his tongue dancing along with yours. He’d attempt to speak to you in between your hot temperature kisses.

“Wait—is this… okay?”

You cup his cheeks and look him in the eyes, you could see you both were much less angry. But the passion brewing was one you couldn’t let simmer. You needed that shit to over boil.

“Dae-Ho. Fuck me. Now.”

Dae-Ho did not have to be told twice as he dived back into your lips. The passionate exchange only broken for a moment as you made him take that ghastly shirt off. His hand slowly slid down your pants as your hands slid around his neck. Dae-Ho groans in your mouth as his hand feels your soaking folds. You whimper in pleasure, trying to somehow get closer to him. He starts to rub your clit in smooth slow circles. You whine out, Dae-Ho letting your sounds fill the room so he could hear you clearly. His mouth was slightly open, as if mimicking the shape your mouth was making.

He slips in a finger, curling it and making you bite your lip. Dae-Ho thumbs the bottom of your lip. He leans in close.

“Don’t. I wanna hear you.”

His tongue swirls around yours before his lips connect for a quick peck. He inserts another finger, now drawing out all your sounds. He plunged them in and out of you in a steady rhythm. You still had both your hands on the back of his neck.

“Fuck… fuck, fuck… Dae-Ho…!” You couldn’t take it, you needed more. You took off your shirt, and aggressively pulled down your bottoms. You’re left in just your bra and underwear for him. His fingers didn’t leave your dripping cunt, continuously finger fucking you. You felt yourself getting close, but this isn’t how you wanted to go. “Dae-Ho~! Get… inside!” Your command somehow made the male even harder, his cock stirring in his pants.

He removes his fingers so he could lift you up onto the kitchen counter. While you desperately removed your panties, he took off his pants and got his member free.

Dae-Ho lines up with your entrance. Your wetness being more than needed for a lubricant. “Fuck, you’re so wet. All this cause of me?” He’d remark with a light cocky smirk. You glare up at him, still needing your nerves fucked out of you.

“Shut up.”

The male narrows his eyes and enters you with one thrust, bottoming out. You cry out, wet enough where it didn’t hurt, just raw pleasure. “Oh fuck—!” You choke on your own words. Dae-Ho barely gives a moment to adjust as he starts ramming into you at a fast pace. Pumped full with adrenaline, you didn’t mind at all. It almost felt like having sex for the first time. But you’ve never felt Dae-Ho’s thrust so desperately before. He had his hands on your hips, pushing you further down on him to meet every thrust. You were seeing stars, almost drifting away from the feeling. But then, you hear a,

“I love you.”

Dae-Ho was looking at you with a deep sincerity. You gaze into his eyes. Of course, now you remember, you were fighting. Your heart grew so full. You cup his face, and lull him closer.

“I-I love you too!”

You both kiss lovingly, now out of pure passion and love for each other, than out of lust. His rhythm struck slightly out of order, and you knew he was close. Before you could even hold out for him though, you come undone. You cry out his name, your head arched toward the ceiling. Dae-Ho sped up, his thrusts sloppy, but yearning.

“(Y,n)… (Y,n)…! Shit…!”

He lets out a held back roar, finishing inside of you. You cling onto him, whining with broken gasps. Your hands drift from his back to his shoulders as the two of you calm down.

Panting, Dae-Ho rests his head against your collarbone. You weakly rub his head, closing your eyes. He slowly comes out of you, creating a light squelching sound.

“Don’t be mad…I love you.”

His tone was soft, hesitant. You recognized this vulnerability from him, and slowly wrap your arms around him. “I love you too…” You say sincerely. Dae-Ho doesn’t say anything back, but he does scoop you up bridal style in his arms.

You’re carried back to your bed, and he lays beside you. It was late, and you were more than happy to get some rest after that. You can safely say you’re no longer angry. To double check on that, Dae-Ho mumbles,

“I’ll do the dishes in the morning, I promise.”

He gently pushes a strand of hair from your face. You scoot closer, signaling your boyfriend to embrace you in his open arms. He plants a kiss on your head. You listen to his heartbeat, the way it beat so fast.

“I’m sorry…”

“…I’m sorry too…”

The two of you lay there together, drifting off into a well needed slumber. But for the first time in awhile, you felt like your relationship with your lover was secure. And how, that’s one way to get out of doing dishes.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

───୨ৎ praise that old man, girl!

a/n: i adore Stanley Pines and apparently im not alone because the amount of asks i got for nsfw with this man?? who am i to deny the people what they want?? also one anon asked for public sex with Stanley sooo here you go angel!

tags: nsfw, smut, vaginal and oral sex (f receiving), age gap, dirty talk, older man/younger woman, degradation + praise, size kink, dumbification, public sex, rough sex, breeding kink

You hadn’t exactly walked into the Mystery Shack with dreams of employment. Stan had hired you on the spot, half-serious when he said he couldn’t afford to be picky. “you got a pulse? can count to ten? good, you’re in,” while shoving a broom into your hands.

You’d been working here for a while now and Stanley Pines had somehow, against all reason, taken a liking to you. You weren’t like the other employees, you were sarcastic and always ready with a quick comeback. It didn’t take long for Stan to notice and he loved the fact that you didn’t take his shit. He loved how you could dish it out just as good as he could.

You genuinely liked your work. The old place had its charm and Stan, despite his grumpy act, was actually funny in his own way.

You were sharp, quick with the same kind of deadpan humor Stan wielded like a weapon. when tourists asked the weirdest and dumbest questions as “how does this yeti paw feel so real?”, you’d shrug and go, “oh, Mr. Pines wrestled the guy for it last spring! you should’ve seen him in the ring.”

And somehow, your nonsense never grated on him.

He’d grumble about you “driving him crazy,” but the truth was, he admired how you handled people, how you could spin up a lie on the spot and sell it with a sly smirk. Even when you worked him up, you had a knack for knowing how to make him laugh before he could stay mad.

Like the time you’d swapped the “do not touch” signs in the gift shop with ones reading “please steal this.” When Stan stormed out of his office, you barely flinched. “don’t blame me. Soos did it,” you’d said again and he’d folded his arms, sighing.

“Kid, you’re gonna give me an ulcer.”

“Then you’ll get to take a vacation, Mr. Pines.”

You had a way of making him feel younger, somehow. Not just the old man with a bad back and a million regrets. Around you, he felt like the guy who still had a chance to make someone smile. And god, he loved that.

Because, god, you talk back, crack jokes, get in his face with that stupid grin of yours. And he knows you know how to get under his skin. It’s annoying and hilarious at the same time.

You’re a disaster of a worker. He’ll admit that to anyone, but for some reason, Stan forgives you. every time. “who did this? who messed up the brochures?” and you always say the same thing “Soos.”

And fuck, he adores it, the way you lie so easily and confidently. He's not mad, but charmed by it. And maybe a little turned on too, but he’ll never admit that out loud.

“You know, i should fire you, right?”

“Yeah, but you won’t, cause i’m too cute, Mr. Pines.”

Stan had wanted to stay mad, but how could he? Every time you messed up, he found a way to let it slide, not because you were good at covering your tracks, but because you always knew just what to say, how to make him forget the shit you’d done. You made it all worth it.

The pick-up lines started a few weeks in. At first, they were awful, so bad that you’d nearly die of secondhand embarrassment. “you must be tired, ‘cause you’ve been running through my mind all day, doll,” he'd say with a lazy wink. and, of course, you’d always have something ready: “you should probably take a nap then, Mr. Mystery, you’re getting old.”

The first time Stanley tried to flirt with you, he didn’t know how it’d feel. He was always smooth, always had a line ready, but it always went wrong with you. “you know, i must be a snowflake ‘cause i’m falling for you.” but before he could even get the whole line out, you shot back, “snowflakes melt. Is that really how you want to end up?”

He’d blink, caught off guard, then chuckle. “smartass.”

But Stan, the bastard, he loved that about you.

He loved how you never pretended to be anything you weren’t. No frilly nonsense or sugar-coating, just honest humor that reminded him of his own shitty jokes. You didn’t back down, never tiptoed around him, and he couldn’t even be mad when you lied about the mess-ups.

His flirts were always the same, predictable, corny, but somehow, Stan delivered them with the precision of a seasoned performer. He would laugh at your attempts to flirt back what made you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “you’re cute when you’re trying to be a romantic,” you say as you lean against the counter with a teasing grin. “but i’m still gonna need a drink to believe you.”

Stanley grew bolder though. “if I were a few years younger. . .”

“You’d still be a pervert?”

“Nah, just a smooth talker, toots,” he’d grin, trailing his fingers over a stack of papers as you walked past, brown eyes never leaving you

The more you two exchanged these ridiculous lines, the more the tension built. The fake flirting, the dumb compliments, it was a game to both of you and neither of you could stop playing.

The shack is empty, just for now. It's an early morning in Gravity Falls, the aroma of coffee that Stan insisted on brewing too strong fills the air. He was at the counter, organising some brochures for the tours, his usual tourist-trap grin nowhere to be found yet.

Tourists haven’t arrived yet.

You were running a little late today, again. Not that Stanley really cared, but he always pretended to. The man was predictable like that. By now, you’d learned that his bark was worse than his bite, though sometimes, you didn’t mind the idea of getting a little bitten.

You walk into the Shack with coffee in one hand and bag slung over your shoulder, the creak of the floorboards greeting you. Stan was leaning against the counter when you came, scribbling something on his clipboard, his back turned to you. And that’s when you saw it.

He wasn’t wearing his girdle and it was impossible not to notice the soft swell of his stomach beneath his shirt.

Fuck. You swallow hard, trying to act normal, but there’s no stopping the heat pooling low in your belly. Mr. Pines, all thick and broad, strong arms, messy morning hair, his belly curving under his chest, that's just too much

And while anyone else might have held back, might’ve thought better of sneaking up on their boss, you didn’t hesitate. The moment you saw him, your lips curled into a smirk.

He hasn’t noticed you yet.

Stepping closer, your let your hands slide over his clothes until your palms rested against the warm curve of his belly. He jumps immediately, his hand jerking across the paper, leaving a thick, jagged line of ink.

“What the— hey! what’re you doin’, kid?!”

“Just admiring my boss?” you grin wider, leaning into him.

Another grumpy “pfft. yeah, right.” comes your way when Stan moves to brush your hands away, but you just dig your fingers in harder, letting your breasts press against his back.

“You’ve been hiding this from me all this time? What a shame.”

His face burns instantly, bright red flushing up his neck. “dammit, don’t go grabbin’ me like that! i’m too old for—”

“Oh, come on,” you cut him off, crowding him against the counter. “you’re not too anything. in fact,” your fingers dip just slightly below his beltline, teasing. “i think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Perfect? hah, are you outta your damn mind? Look at me! I’m no spring chicken, alright? i’ve got—”

“Got what, Mr. Pines?” you interrupt. “nice body?” your nails scrape lightly against your boss, earning a shaky exhale from him. “i like it. a lot.”

“Cut it out, kid, this ain’t the kinda body women go crazy for. You’re wastin’ your time”

You frown. “says who?”

He huffs in embarrassment. “C’mon, you've seen it. I'm too old and- and uh, rough around the edges?”

“Damn, exactly what i like,” his whole body stiffens under your touch. “big strong hands, broad chest and this belly, i want all of it, Mr. Pines.”

“You got a filthy mouth, y’know.”

“Oh, i had a good teacher.” you giggle, feeling him already getting hard. “you ever been touched like this, Mr. Pines?”

Stan exhales hard, irritated and flustered. “‘course I have, don’t talk like I’m some goddamn virgin.”

“Thats not what i meant.” your nails scrape, dragging slow over his belly, over the dips and curves.

He tries to change the tactics then. “listen, sweetie, i’m too old for this shit, alright? you- you deserve some young, pretty guy who—“

“Who what? who doesn’t look half as good as you? who can’t make me laugh the way you do? who doesn’t make me want to do this? i like it thick, broad, strong. You could just throw me around and have your way with me, Mr. Pines.”

Stanley fucking stops breathing. Hes hesitating because he doesn’t want to admit he’s just as fucking hungry for this as you are.

He runs a hand over his face, trying and failing to keep his composure. “You- you’re crazy, y’know that?” but you always knew how to get under his skin.

“Admit it, you’d miss me if i wasn’t here to keep you on your toes.” your fingertips graze his bulge once more and that's it. Stan’s breath stutters in his throat.

“Hot belgium waffles, you better be serious, sweetheart.” he’s already turning, crowding you against the counter, gripping your waist, your hips, your ass.

“Why wouldn’t i be?” you gasp after you say the last word when he palms your tits, kneads them roughly.

“You wanna be fucked like that? like a real man oughta do it?” he leans closer to your face. You nod too eagerly and Stan doesn’t waste a second “we better make this quick,” while his fingers already yanking at your clothes, dragging you onto the counter, pressing his mouth to yours.

Quick. Ha.

Stan kisses like he’s trying to eat you alive, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You moan, grinding against him, feeling the hard length of his cock pressing into your stomach

You should have known better. Should’ve known better than to touch him like that, to let your fingers linger on the soft curve of his belly as he stood there, all unbuttoned and exposed. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because the moment your hands landed there, the pull was too strong, and you knew that if you didn’t take it now, you’d burn up inside.

“You sure you want this, baby? ‘cause once i start, i’m not stoppin.” you nod, gasping for breath, and that’s all he needs. “good, i’ve been holding back long enough.” he gropes you, touches you everywhere, his hands roaming over your back, squeezing your ass.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” your bra is barely on you before he’s palming your tits, squeezing rough, thumbing your nipples, watching them peak.

He licks his lips, then leans down and latches on. Wet, sucking, pulling noises fill the Shack. You arch, whimper, push into his mouth and he groans. “needy little thing, ain’t ya?” he switches breasts, drags his tongue over the swell, teeth scraping before sucking your nipple into his mouth, rolling it, flicking it.

Stanley Pines, despite his gruff exterior, is a sweaty mess in front of you. A man that had given up, probably, on ever being seen as sexy. That’s what made it so deliciously easy to shatter him. To break that cold shell. Because he didn’t see it, did he? He didn’t see how much his body, his age, even his wrinkles, didn’t matter to you. You just want him to feel it. You want him to feel desired, so badly.

“Fucking hell, yer driving me insane, toots.”

You laugh breathlessly. “don’t be so dramatic, old man. You’re tougher than you look.”

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one,” he growls as he pushes you back against the counter, gripping your thighs.

His mouth is on you again, kissing down your neck, biting, his tongue leaving hot scorching wet trails that fill your stomach with butterflies. You grind against him, feeling the press of his cock through his pants.

“You want this, huh? want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in?”

“Yes, i need you, Mr. Pines.” your hands grip his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Stanley presses his thick fingers against your underwear, circling your throbbing clit through your panties, drawing soft sounds from your lips.

“Already so wet. Hell, you’re gonna take me so good, aren’t ya? this tight little pussy’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”

You moan, your head falling back, your body arching against him as he works you with his fingers faster, harder.

“Please, please, please, need you!” then, out of the blue, or maybe because you're too lost to even care so you'd mumble everything that comes out of your mouth, you quietly admit. “Mr. Pines, f-fuck, ive touched myself to the thought of you—”

Stanley looks at you. “say that again.”

“I've thought about you, i fingered myself imagining it was your cock.” you say quietly, looking at him with little hearts in your puppy eyes.

“Jesus christ, you filthy little thing.”

“Stan—”

“Mr. Pines.” fuck. the way he corrects you, heat coils in your stomach, between your legs. “You wanna get fucked good, you use the right name.”

“M-Mr. Pines—fuck, please—” his fingers press harder, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clothed clit.

“Soaked. And i ain’t even touched you yet.” you whine, pressing into his hands, your hips twitching. And that bastard laughs. “poor thing, you really need it, huh? sweetie, you’re lucky i’m not makin’ you beg for it.” yet, he forgot to add.

You’re about to retort, but then his fingers slide your panties to the side, spreading your folds, dragging through your wet slit.

“Fuck, baby, dripping all over my fingers.”

“N-need you—”

“Aw, yeah? that so?” he pushes a finger in your pussy so fucking slow, savouring the way your little cunt takes his thick digit, already imagining how perfect it'd be with his cock instead. “tight angel, fuck, so tight.” Stan manhandles you roughly, spreading your legs with his hands, kneeling in front of you, about to devour you whole. You feel his hot breath against your core and when he leans in and his tongue finally licks a long, slow stripe through your folds, you swear you see stars.

“Taste even better than i thought,” he groans, voice muffled against your pussy. His big hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking like a man starved.

“Mr. Pines—oh my g-god—” Stanley keeps grunting and moaning, the vibration sending shocks through your body.

“Fuck, keep sayin’ my name like that. Can’t get enough of you, doll.” his warm tongue flicks your swollen clit and he slides two fingers into you, curling them, scissoring. Your hips buck against his face, but he holds you down with one arm across your stomach. “Stay still, princess, let me take care of you.”

You’re already close and he knows it, his fingers pumping into you faster, his mouth relentless on your clit. You fall over the edge with a cry, your thighs trembling as he works you through it, fingers still moving, tongue still teasing, until you’re begging him to stop from overstimulation, tugging his hair. Stanley pulls back, lips and chin glistening and grins like the filthy bastard he is. “cant believe i’ve been missin’ out on this.”

He stands, towering over you and you reach for him, fumbling with his belt. When the metal buckle clinks loudly in the quiet of the Shack, Stanley impatiently shoves his pants down to free himself.

Your gaze drops and your eyes widen. Jesus christ.

“Like what you see?”

“I’d be stupid not to,” you grin, reaching out to wrap your fingers around him, making him curse under his breath, his hips jerking into your hand as he grabs your wrist, guiding you to pump his hard length slowly.

But you two don't have much time so he holds your panties aside with one hand, lining himself up with the other and with a single thrust, Stan buries himself inside you, stretching you so perfectly it makes your vision blur.

“Fuck,” his hands grip your hips so hard you were sure there will be bruises. “you’re so fuckin’ tight and warm. Goddamn, sweetheart.”

Your response breaks off into a whimper as he starts moving, slow at first to let you get used, his hips rolling into yours smoothly.

“That’s it, take it, baby, all of me.” you let out a soft moan, looking down where you both connected and he grins, pressing his hand against your stomach, where the outline of him bulged beneath your skin. “look at that, i’m so fuckin’ deep, i can feel myself here. You feel it, baby? feel me stretchin’ ya open?”

You nod frantically, your head spinning with every relentless thrust as he stretches you in ways you didn’t think possible. You cry out, your nails raking down his back, your body arching against him as he sets a brutal pace, driving into you over and over again.

“Such a pretty little thing, lettin' an old bastard like me ruin ya.”

You can only nod, your needy voice lost to the pleasure as youre getting fucked that good, right here in the Shack, where anyone could walk in.

He’s watching you, watching your pussy stretch around his fat cock, watching the way you tremble. His big hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, forcing you to take all of him.

“Bet no one’s ever fucked you like this before, huh?” he slams into you again, making the counter creak beneath you. Using his strong hands he keeps you in place as his cock drives in and out of your dripping, swollen cunt.

“C'mon, answer me, baby,” he growls, his hand sliding up to grab your jaw, forcing your glazed-over eyes to meet his. His cock buries deep, hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. ”didn’t ask for silence. you ever been fucked like this before?”

Your eyes are closed as you shake your head, whimpering. “n-no.”

“No, what?”

"N-no one’s ever fucked me like this, Mr. Pines—”

“Good girl, use your words,” Stan grips your chin and forces you to meet his gaze. “tell me how much you love this cock.”

“S-so much,” you manage to choke out between pathetic whines and mewls, your brain turning into useless mess. “i love it, i love you, Mr. Pines, don’t stop!” tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Poor thing, all those boys before me and none of ‘em knew how to stretch this perfect cunt open right.” he shifts his hips, grindings his cock against your walls, making you sob. “bet they didn’t even know how to fuck you proper, huh? didn’t know how to make ya beg?”

You shake your head and gasp, clinging to him.

His hand slides down your body, rough fingers rubbing over your swollen, sensitive clit. “owwh, they never even made ya cum, did they, sweetheart?”

“No, they didn’t, Mr. Pines.”

“Fuckin’ shame. all those useless boys, never knew what they were missin’.” his thumb circles your clit. “but don't worry, this pussy’s mine now, ya hear me? No one else’s. I’m the only one who can fuck ya like this, make ya feel this good.”

“Mr. Pines, ple-please. . .’

“Please what, sugar?” he pants, fucking you so deep you swear you feel him rearranging your insides.

You sob, tears spilling from your pretty eyes. “p-please, make me cum—” Stan doesn’t let up, not even for a second. His cock is buried so deep inside you that you can barely breathe and think, barely do anything but moan and take it like the filthy little thing you are.

“Aw, baby, you gonna cum already? just from my cock stretchin’ ya open like this?” you nod, your body tightening around him. “fuck, that’s right, sweetheart, squeeze me just like that. Never thought i’d get to ruin somethin’ so perfect.” his pace picks up, his cock pounding into you so hard you’re sure the counter’s going to break.

You were supposed to keep it quick. just a little pre-tour fuck as you both said.

But thirty minutes turned into sixty and sixty turned into absolute depravity.

The counter was first, but then Stan couldn’t stop. His cock is buried deep inside your soaked, needy cunt as his hands hold you while he thrusts into you.

"Fuckin’ christ, doll, this pussy’s gonna be the death of me."

You had your legs around his waist, arms locked around his neck, Stanley fucking into you so deep you felt like you’d pass out. But then he lifted you up, didn’t even bother pulling out, just carried you like you weighed nothing, still fucking up into you, and took you across the shack like a man possessed.

“Mr. Pines!” and “so good!” were the only words you knew.

“Thought we were keepin’ this quick, huh?” he grunts. “then why the fuck can’t i stop?”

You can’t even answer because your mouth is too busy moaning, gasping, babbling absolute nonsense while he splits you open, every inch pushing against your soft, sensitive walls, stuffing your tight pussy full.

You arch your back, sobbing, because you need it fast again, rough again, animalistic again. And he fucking gives it to you, by grabbing your thighs, folding you in half and absolutely destroying you.

“Fuckin’ filthy girl, letting an old bastard like me ruin this tight little pussy. Even dreamed about this, ugh, layin’ awake at night, fingers buried in that needy little cunt, wishin’ it was me.”

What can you say except loud “yesyesyes!” gasps? However, Stanley is satisfied with that.

“Yeah? bet you’re never gonna want anyone else fuckin’ you again.”

He doesn’t stop. Every display case. Every fake cryptid setup. Even the damn vending machine.

“You're so fuckin’ wet, doll, i could slide into this little cunt with no effort at all.”

Fake exhibits? fucked over them. That fake monster cage? Bent over it. That dusty-ass animatronic Stan managed to steal? yeah, he fucked you right in front of it, hands gripping your ass, hips slamming into yours so hard the damn thing started moving

Stan literally punched it to shut it up.

But did he stop? no.

“Shut the hell up, buddy,” he muttered to the machine, before shoving his cock back inside you and making you scream.

but the final round?

Staff room.

Both of you panting, sweaty, while he takes you from behind, balls slapping against your throbbing clit, the slick sound of skin on skin echoing through the empty Shack.

Or, well, not so empty anymore, because suddenly you hear the honk of a tourist bus outside.

Stan’s head snaps up. “oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me—”

His eyes dart to the stupid clock on the wall and he actually freezes for a second.

“We— we were supposed to open, like—shit, twenty minutes ago.”

“So? keep going.” you say lazily under him.

“Oh, you’re gonna get me in trouble.” but does he stop? does he fucking stop?

No, no he does not. Instead, he fucks you harder.

“I'm gonna make this quick, baby, gonna fill you up real nice, then i gotta—fuck—gotta get to work—“

But then— “uh, Mr. Mystery?”

fuck.

Stan’s body locks up and you both freeze. The voice is right outside the door. Stanley lets out the deepest, most exhausted sigh. “Uh, yeah?”

The tourist hums. “sooo i was wondering, when does the tour start? we’ve been waiting outside for a while.”

Stan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “yeah, yeah, uh, give me five minutes, kid, i got, uh, got a bad back today, y'know? just need a second to—uhhh—” you clench around him, tight, so fucking tight and his words cut off in a groan.

He glares at you. you just smirk.

“You okay in there, Mr. Mystery?”

Stan forces his voice steady. “yeah, yeah, just—” he grits his teeth. “just need a minute to stretch it out.” he snaps his hips forward, stuffing his cock back into your cunt, deep and slow, forcing you to feel every thick, throbbing inch

You whimper, just to fuck with him because this old man is so funny when annoyed.

“Fuckin’ hell, stop that.” he growls under his breath at you.

But the tourist won’t leave.

“So, uh, what’s the official policy on taking pictures of the fake exhibits?”

Stan’s eye twitches, his hips jerk forward involuntarily and you let out a choked gasp.

The tourist pauses.

“Mr. Mystery? are you sure you're okay?”

Stan immediately shoves a hand over your mouth. “Told you, just back’s actin’ up, kid.”

The tourist keeps talking.

“What do you think the likelihood is of alien activity in oregon? because personally, i think—”

You clench around him again. Stan chokes on a groan, his cock throbbing inside you as he tries to keep his voice normal.

“Listen, kid, why don’t you, uh, go look at the gift shop or somethin’, huh?”

“Oh, but i wanted to ask about—”

Stan loses it

“NOT NOW, KID. TOUR STARTS IN TEN MINUTES. LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE.”

“Ohh. . . Okay?” fucking finally, you hear footsteps and door creaking, that idiot leaving

Stanley slumps forward, forehead against your shoulder.

“Poor Mr. Mystery,” you tease, moving your hips. “just trying to do his job, but this damn girl won’t stop teasing him—”

“Ohhh, you thought you were so fuckin’ cute, huh?” the deep rasp of his voice sends shivers down your spine. His chest is pressed against your back, his weight holding you down while his cock still stuffed inside your ruined cunt. “moanin’ all pretty while i was tryna talk? teasin’ me in front of that dumbass tourist. Makin’ those fuckin’ sounds on purpose. Thought i wouldn’t do somethin’ about it?”

You yelp when his hand grips your hair, yanking your head back just enough to whisper against your ear. “you wanna act like a dumb little slut? then i’m gonna fuck you like one.” after that, Stan pulls out slowly, torturously just to slam back in.

You cry out. No, the sound you make would be better described as pathetic loud whine.

But Stan slaps a hand over your mouth, pressing you into the couch. “uh-uh, pretty, you don’t get to be loud now. you lost that privilege.”

His cock is so deep, stretching your cunt open, filling you completely. Every thrust is hard, brutal, messy, wet. Your pussy clenches around him, sucking him in, greedy for more as you whimper into his big palm. The couch creaks under you, the whole room still eerily silent except for the filthy, wet sounds of him using you.

“Aw, what’s wrong, baby? thought you liked teasin’ me. now you can’t even take my cock?” as you nearly fall from the fast rhythm. Stan laughs against your ear. “thought you wanted me to fuckin’ ruin you, huh? turn this sloppy little cunt into my personal fuckhole?”

You can't even moan as Stan snaps his hips up, hitting so deep it knocks the breath from your lungs.

“What’s the matter, princess? feelin’ a little too full?” his belly presses against your back, his size overwhelming you, his weight pinning you down, making sure you can’t run from him as he grabs your waist, pulls you back onto him, forces you to take every inch. “ this little cunt’s gonna take every last drop, huh? ‘cause that’s what you are, ain’tcha?”

His fingers grip your jaw, turning your head so he can look in your glassy eyes.

“Say it, sweetie. Tell me what you are.”

Your brows knit together. “m’ your dumb little slut, Mr. Pines. . .m’ made to take your cock—” words come out barely coherent through the lewd slap of skin-on-skin filling the room.

Damn right. His hand slides down, finding your clit, rubbing it fast. Your body jerks, overstimulated.

“Too much?” his voice is mocking. “too fuckin’ bad, baby. Shoulda thought of that before you started actin’ like a brat.”

You’re already close again, what is it now, your sixth orgasm? Eighth? You shake too hard in his hands as your cunt spasms around his cock.

“Gonna fill you up, doll. make you fuckin’ mine. you want that? lemme hear you beg.”

”P-please. . . ple, mhm. . .hhng . .” your words muffled against his palm.

“Please what?”

“Please—please breed my messy cunt, Mr. Pines—please, please—”

“Holy shit, baby, you want me to breed this little pussy? want me to fill you so full you’ll be drippin’ down your thighs all day?”

You nod frantically and Stanley feels you smile widely against his skin what makes him laugh. Such a dumb slut you are.

“Greedy little thing. y'know i gotta work today, right?” his cock throbs inside you, stuffing you so full you can feel him in your stomach. ”but fuck- fuck, baby, can’t help it.” his hips snap forward, burying himself completely as he cums, making you feel every pulse, every throbbing rope of his hot seed spilling inside you, flooding your pussy.

Your own orgasm hits so hard your vision whites out, your cunt clenching tight, squeezing him, milking him dry.

“Oh, that's it, baby, there it is. Good little slut.” you collapse, trembling, fucked-out and absolutely ruined.

Stan stays inside you, catching his breath, watching as his cum spills out, dripping down your thighs. He leans down, kisses your neck. “gonna clean you up, sweetheart.”

You blink up at him through tired eyes, dizzy. “with what?”

He smirks. “my fuckin’ tongue.” uh oh, you guess Mystery Shack is gonna open late today because even though Stanley Pines has a job to do, first he’s gotta make sure his messy girl is properly taken care of.

[echo-riot]

Texting Sevika/Ellie/Abby

•|||——————————————————————|||•

You: So when I said I wanted you to take care of me, I didn’t mean in the “drag me across the floor by my hair” way…

Sevika: Quit whining. You look good all disheveled.

You: I bet I do, but I’m just saying, there’s a line between “care” and “torture”

Sevika: You’re lucky you’re cute. And lucky I’m in the mood for cuddles, not punishment.

You: Lucky for me. Or unlucky for you, depending on how much patience you have for me trying to escape this “care”

Sevika: Try escaping again. I dare you. You’ll end up back on my lap.

You: Oof, is that an offer? Because I’ll test it

Sevika: Test it, and I’ll remind you who’s in charge… And who gets to decide when the cuddles end.

You: Guess I’ll just have to test it out, then. Maybe I’ll need a little extra help getting back in your lap

Sevika: I can always make more room.

You: Glad to know you’re still obsessed with me.

Sevika: Obsession is an understatement.

You: I’ll take that as a compliment, sugar mama.

Sevika: It’s more of a warning, love. Don’t forget it.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

You:Hey, loser. You still breathing?

Ellie: Oh, I’m breathing, alright. But only because I need to stalk you in person later. What are you doing?

You: Just thinking about how lucky you are to have me as your girlfriend. You’re welcome, by the way.

Ellie: Oh yeah? You’re lucky I haven’t tied you up and kept you all to myself yet. But I’m patient, I guess.

You:Yeah, well, I’d let you, but I’d probably escape, and you’d be sad. Maybe that’s your fantasy, huh?

Ellie:You wouldn’t. You think you could escape from me? I’m the one with all the tricks, remember?

You: Oh, I remember. Your “tricks” are mostly you being a grumpy little brat, though.

Ellie: You love it. Don’t lie. You love when I’m all possessive and weird with you.

You: Yeah, I kinda do. You just can’t get enough of me, huh?

Ellie: Yeah, well, if you’d stop being so damn cute, maybe I wouldn’t have to. But here we are, me constantly obsessed with you and you pretending you don’t love it.

You:Who’s pretending? I know you’re a complete mess without me. I’m basically your lifeline now.

Ellie:And don’t you forget it. You’re stuck with me, loser.

You:I’m not complaining. You’re stuck with me, too. Hope you’re ready for me to ruin your life in all the best ways.

Ellie:Babe, my life was already ruined before you came along. You just made it a lot more fun.

You: Good, because I’m only getting started.

Ellie: Can’t wait to ruin you, too.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

You: Hey, muscle-head. Got any room for me in that oversized hoodie of yours?

Abby: You want me to share my hoodie? Really? You know I could just pick you up and carry you around instead, right?

You: Ooooh, are you trying to flex on me? I think I’d rather just crawl into your lap and make you squirm instead.

Abby: Squirm? Babe, I can take whatever you dish out. It’s you who should be worried about that, not me.

You: Keep talking like that and you might make me want to test that theory… but I’ll let you have your little victory for now.

Abby: Victory? Pfft, I don’t need to try. You’re already obsessed with me. I know how this ends.

You: Yeah, obsessed, huh? You wish. I’m just here for the murderous cuddles and your questionable muscle flexing.

Abby: You love it. You know damn well you can’t resist this. Don’t act like you don’t wanna be tangled up with me right now.

You: Who says I’m acting? I’ll happily let you “tangle” me up. But I’m definitely not going easy on you.

Abby: You don’t have to go easy on me. I like when you push back. But don’t think for a second I’m not gonna win.

You: I’m not worried. I kinda like a challenge. You won’t know what hit you.

Abby:Bring it on, babe. I’ve got all the time in the world to prove who’s really in charge here.

You:You can try, but just know that when I win, I’ll expect a serious cuddle session… no complaints allowed.

Abby:Fine. But you better be ready for when I win. I’m claiming all the cuddle rights first.

You: Deal. Just don’t be mad when you end up in my arms instead of the other way around.

Abby: We’ll see about that, babe. We’ll see.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[gothicxreylover]

Oh and can you make the yandere giant hashira plus genya and the wive x tiny reader a little bit longer if that’s not too much sorry if I mixed it up!😅

Yandere Giant Hashira’s spoiling and pampering their tiny

Hello! I finished your request and I hope you enjoy!

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu is quiet in his affection, but his actions speak volumes. He creates a custom home for you inside his mansion, crafting everything by hand to ensure your comfort. Tiny furniture, soft bedding, and even a miniature garden are prepared with great care.

His way of spoiling you includes making sure you’re well-fed with meals he painstakingly prepares, often in silence, before watching you eat to ensure you’re satisfied.

Occasionally, he’ll hold you gently in his palm, his expression unreadable as he murmurs, “You’re safest with me.” He doesn’t show much outward emotion, but his overprotective tendencies grow by the day, ensuring you never have a reason to leave his side.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi’s idea of spoiling you comes across as aggressive care. He’s always on edge, constantly checking for any dangers to you, whether it’s drafts, insects, or even his fellow Hashira.

“You’re not leaving this room until I’ve double-checked everything,” he growls, securing every possible escape route.

Sanemi crafts a secure space just for you, using his strength to make it impenetrable. While his gruff demeanor might seem intimidating, he often leaves little surprises for you, like snacks or tiny, handmade trinkets. If you thank him, he gets flustered and mutters, “Don’t get used to it.”

He might grumble about how much effort he’s putting in, but deep down, he thrives on knowing you’re entirely dependent on him.

Tengen Uzui and His Wives

Life with Tengen and his wives is nothing short of overwhelming. They shower you with lavish gifts—tiny jewels, elaborate outfits tailored to your size, and decadent food prepared just for you.

Makio is practical, ensuring your safety and comfort while teasing you playfully. “Don’t even think about wandering off. You’re too cute to lose.”

Suma is the most emotionally doting, constantly cuddling you and asking if there’s anything you need. “Are you happy? Is there anything I can do to make you happier?”

Hina keeps everything balanced, making sure you’re never overwhelmed. She reads to you in a soft, soothing voice and often sets up relaxing activities for you.

Tengen, of course, is the ultimate showman. “Only the flashiest things for you!” he proclaims, crafting a display of affection so grand that it feels impossible to escape their collective care.

Obanai Iguro

Obanai takes a meticulous approach to caring for you. He’s quiet but fiercely protective, ensuring you have everything you need within arm’s reach. Kaburamaru often keeps you company, curling around your tiny living space as a second layer of security.

Obanai’s way of spoiling you includes bringing you small treasures he finds during his travels—tiny flowers, polished stones, or anything he thinks will make you smile. He’ll never admit it, but he watches your reactions closely, craving your approval.

“You’re mine,” he says softly, his mismatched eyes boring into yours. “Don’t forget that.” His spoiling comes with an unspoken expectation of gratitude and loyalty.

Mitsuri Kanroji

Mitsuri spoils you to the point of smothering you—quite literally. She adores holding you close to her heart, her affectionate squeezes often leaving you gasping for air.

She loves cooking for you, making tiny portions of her favorite dishes and watching you eat with sparkling eyes. “Do you like it? I made it just for you!” she says, her voice brimming with excitement.

Mitsuri spends hours sewing adorable outfits for you and decorating your living space with bright, cheerful colors. Her affection is endless, and she constantly showers you with compliments.

“You’re the cutest, most precious thing in the world! I’ll protect you forever!”

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu’s care is precise and calculated. She ensures you’re in perfect health, often creating herbal remedies specifically tailored to your tiny size. While her smile is sweet, there’s always an edge to her words.

“You wouldn’t want to get sick, would you? Stay with me, and I’ll make sure you’re always safe and sound.”

She enjoys experimenting with new ways to spoil you, whether it’s creating tiny sweets, crafting miniature furniture, or reading you bedtime stories in her gentle, melodic voice.

However, her obsession shines through in her need to control your environment. “Everything here is for your own good,” she says, her soft smile belying the possessiveness in her eyes.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Rengoku’s care is as intense as his personality. He’s always enthusiastic about ensuring your happiness, often declaring, “You deserve the best, and I’ll make sure you have it!”

He creates a vibrant, colorful living space for you, complete with tiny decorations and cozy furnishings. He loves sharing his meals with you, carefully cutting pieces small enough for you to enjoy.

Rengoku frequently tells you stories about his battles, his booming voice filling the room. His way of spoiling you is through his boundless energy and attention, always making sure you feel valued and loved.

“You’re safe with me, little one. I’ll protect you with my life!”

Muichiro Tokito

Muichiro’s care is quiet and unassuming. He spends hours crafting tiny things for you—furniture, blankets, and even small puzzles to keep you entertained.

Though he often seems distracted, his attention to your needs is unparalleled. “This will keep you safe,” he says simply, placing a handmade protective dome over your living space.

He doesn’t say much, but his actions speak louder than words. He’s always nearby, watching over you with a calm yet possessive gaze.

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei’s care is reverent, treating you like a sacred treasure. He carves intricate items for you, from tiny statues to delicate furniture, his hands working with incredible precision despite their size.

“You are a blessing,” he says softly, his voice rumbling like a distant storm. “I will protect you with all that I have.”

Gyomei’s spoiling often comes in the form of his unwavering attention and gentle presence. He frequently prays for your safety, his devotion to you growing stronger with each passing day.

Genya Shinazugawa

Genya’s care is rough around the edges but heartfelt. He builds your living space himself, using his hands to create something sturdy and secure.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he mutters, his cheeks flushing as he places a tiny blanket over your shoulders.

Genya spoils you with food, often hunting or foraging to bring you the best ingredients. “Eat up,” he says gruffly, avoiding eye contact. “You need to stay strong.”

Despite his tough demeanor, he dotes on you in his own way, ensuring you’re always comfortable and protected.

[cigarettesaftersae]

i'll like you - 07 lucky girl syndrome

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: reo mikage x f!reader | contains : fluff, angst, jealousy, academic rivals, fake dating

With a good sniff, the inhalation gifted you great pleasure. The well-cooked food settled down on the table was nothing but a present wrapped with a bow just right for your tummy. The soft clatter of dishes echoes through the dining room as your mom gracefully places steaming plates of food onto the table, the rich aroma of her cooking filling the air. Reo, his eager eyes sparkling like a puppy's, sits obediently by your side, his hands folded neatly in his lap. A warm smile spreads across his face as he watches your mom showcase her culinary talents, her precise movements a testament to years of practice and love.

“Is this what you have every dinner?” Reo turns to you

“If I don’t take naps”

A chuckle gracefully leaves his lip which only get glossier. Finally accomplished with tonight’s dinner, your mom sits down immediately picking up utensils as if her stomach rumbled with thunders and both you and Reo followed along with her.

“So, what do you do nowadays, Mikage?” your mom asks politely, her hands busy arranging utensils on the table.

Reo’s lips twitch upward into a charming smile, but he quickly waves a hand in the air, his tone light and friendly. “Oh, please, no need for formalities. Call me Reo,” he insists, leaning forward slightly in his seat. “but I’ve really been focusing on soccer.” There’s a brief pause where his smile deepens, and you catch the flicker of genuine pride beneath his usual confidence. Reo’s voice spikes with a glitter of excitement, perhaps his passion towards soccer has been his highest of satisfaction or maybe it was his bromance with Nagi. “I couldn’t have done it without my great friend Nagi.”

Your mom hums in approval, her gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Reo. “Soccer, huh? That must take a lot of dedication. It’s wonderful that you’ve found such a strong connection with your teammates.”

Reo nods eagerly, his excitement undiminished. “It’s not just dedication, really. It’s… I don’t know, it feels like it’s my purpose. And with Nagi, well,” he chuckles softly, “it’s like having someone who always understands what I’m aiming for, no matter how crazy it seems.”

“How romantic,” you comment dryly, breaking the thoughtful silence as you spear a piece of food with your fork and pop it into your mouth. Your tone carries the faintest edge of sarcasm, but it’s softened by the amused smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Your mom chuckles softly at the interaction, shaking her head as she arranges more food on the table. “It’s wonderful to see such passion in young people. You don’t see bonds like that every day,” she says, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

“Right?” Reo agrees, flashing a grateful smile at your mom before shooting you a playful look, as if daring you to make another comment.

Before you can respond, your mom’s voice cuts through the moment, light yet curious. “Where’s Yuna nowadays?”

The name alone sends a jolt through you, freezing you in place like ice water running through your veins. Your hand stiffens around your fork, the lump rising in your throat making it impossible to speak. How could you answer that? Lie to your mom? No, you’d never do that—never could.

“She’s, um…” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “She’s busy nowadays.” The words leave your mouth dry and flat, as if scraped together from fragments of an incomplete sentence.

The room feels heavier now, as if unseen storm clouds had gathered overhead. The once-warm atmosphere shifts to a quiet tension, your mom’s cheerful hum faltering for just a moment. Maybe you should say more, something convincing to ease her concern, but the words won’t come. They stick in your throat like stones, immovable.

Reo, however, doesn’t let the silence linger. “I heard she’s been having lots of family over!” he interjects, his tone effortlessly light and cheerful, like sunshine piercing through heavy clouds.

Your eyes snap to him in surprise, and for a moment, he meets your gaze with a knowing look—one that speaks of silent understanding and an unspoken promise to have your back. The gloom that had settled over the table begins to lift, the tension easing as your mom’s expression softens.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” she says, the smile returning to her face as she continues setting the table.

Reo flashes you a small, reassuring smile before turning back to your mom, smoothly steering the conversation away from the subject that had you reeling. He use to make your stomach turn upside down, a vomit form in your throat, and his smile always felt deceiving but he’s never felt more beautiful.

“Thank you for having me,” Reo says warmly, his signature smile lighting up his face as you walk him out to the gates.

“If you hadn’t come over, we’d would’ve had some leftover pork,” you grumble, stuffing your hands into your pockets to fend off the chill of the evening.

Reo chuckles, the sound soft and easy. “Oh—here,” he says, abruptly stopping to pull something from his bag. He holds out two neatly wrapped boxes, their sleek design and embossed logos practically screaming luxury. It’s so obviously Reo, and you can’t help but raise a brow as you take them from his hands with deliberate care.

“What’s this? And more importantly, how much were these?” you ask, your tone laced with suspicion as you tilt the boxes slightly, their weight surprising you.

Reo grins mischievously, his violet eyes gleaming under the streetlights. “It’s a secret,” he says with a wink, his playful tone only making your irritation rise.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you untie the elegant ribbon on one box and carefully lift the lid. Inside, nestled against a cushion of soft velvet, is a black necklace. The pendant—a sleek tooth design wrapped in a dragon’s claw—shimmers faintly, its craftsmanship intricate and unmistakably expensive.

Opening the second box, you find an identical necklace, except this one is white, the dragon’s claw seemingly carved from pearl.

Reo watches you intently, his smile softening as he explains, “You can give the other to Yuna when you two are together again.”

The mention of her name makes your hands falter for a moment, your thumb grazing the smooth edge of the white pendant. You swallow hard, unsure how to respond, but Reo’s voice is gentle now, lacking his usual teasing lilt.

“She’s still important to you, right?” he adds quietly, his gaze searching yours.

You don’t answer right away, instead staring down at the necklaces in your hands. The intricate designs seem to hold more weight than just their physical presence, as though Reo knew exactly what they represented to you.

“Yeah,” you finally mutter, your voice barely audible. “She is.”

Reo nods, his expression unreadable but somehow comforting. “Then keep them safe until the time’s right.”

Another fine morning with a bleeding sun greets your moon kissed eyes. An abundance of school air is yet to welcome your skin as soon you finish brushing away your dust collected morning breath, slipping into your school uniform, and a kiss to your mom’s cheek as you rush up. No longer being provided of the coffee smell warmed up in your house. With a creek of the gate noise opening, you would usually run off to school and meet Yuna on the way. But the most avoidant fight is still ongoing. So you’ll just head to the bus alone, right?

Well this Tuesday wasn’t the case; if Reo’s sleek, lavish black limo outside waiting for you. This would be the closest you get to a red carpet upon the earth ground accompanying your feet with rose petals delightfully scattering the scene, and white flashes, that even sunglasses can’t behold, blind your eyes. How’d he get it to be so shiny? A question only the dirty wealth can answer you guessed. Nagi’s white messy hair is spotted, engraved into his cell phone games. The LED lights inside make his hair almost colorful. Then Reo slips out of the limo, feet on the ground, a signature smile vibrantly stunning you “Good Morning”

You stood silent as the rest of the bread crumps in your mouth were being chewed away. “What is that”

“What is what?” His dumbfound act made you rise an eyebrow, a sign of impatience's for a simple answer already “Obviously it’s a limo but you didn’t say you were going to pick me up in a limo, I thought kids do that for dances”

“Well a lot can benefit you now that you’re with me my love”

“Can you not call me that?’

“I was kidding—” You quickly pinch the skin on Reo’s ear then slide into the limo, resting your bag by your hip as Nagi still makes love with his gaming. Following behind was a heart-broken, wounded, rich boy. “Now my ear is red, that hurt” He whines childishly, attacking a pout towards you.

“Is baby gonna cry?” You tease back into his childish manner “you basically broke my nose last week you should be a good”

“That was an accident!”

“Womp womp” The car— or rather the limo takes off, away from your home gates directing to where you’d have to face the unavoidable quiet fight.

“We’re already here?” You lean against the window, staring across the school field and building, the hundreds of other girls and boys in school uniform entering into which you bestowed a synonym for hell.

The car door swings open, revealing a tall, older woman whose posture is strikingly upright despite the evident weight of her years. Her appearance is imposing, her sharp, angular features framed by thin wisps of silver hair tucked neatly. Across her face is a long, hooked nose—a feature some might whimsically describe as a "witch’s nose,"

The sunlight pours in through the open door, momentarily blinding you as you squint against the glare. Then, out of the dazzling light, Reo’s hand extends toward you, his fingers steady and inviting. He stands there, looking every bit the part of a fairytale prince in shining armor, though instead of a sword, he wields his signature charm.

“Shall we?” he asks, his voice warm and smooth, his smile effortlessly disarming. Without missing a beat, you swat his hand away with a quick, decisive motion. “I can walk on my own,” you mutter, brushing yourself off as you step out of the car.

Reo’s smile doesn’t falter; if anything, it grows wider, his amusement evident in the glint of his violet eyes. “I thought we needed to act all lovey in front of these people,” he says, his tone laced with playful exasperation.

Your brow furrows as you turn to him, crossing your arms. “No one’s in front of us?” you fire back, your voice sharp but carrying an edge of curiosity.

Reo sighs dramatically, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair as if your defiance is the greatest challenge of his life. “Let’s just go,” he says, his tone a mix of resignation and humor, gesturing toward the imposing building ahead. As soon as you take a step into the school grounds a line of students is in awe, cheering, reeling with an immense amount of joy to the sight of the famous future Mikage heir. You glance at the crowd and then back at him, unimpressed. “Are these your friends or fans?” you mutter, your tone dry as you watch a group of students practically fawn over his every step. Reo flashes you a grin, his violet eyes glinting with mischief. “Can I say both?” he quips, lifting a hand in a casual wave. The gesture earns a fresh round of squeals, and you roll your eyes so hard you swear you hear them creak

“Put your arm around me,” he whispers suddenly, leaning closer so only you can hear.

Your steps falter, and you whip your head toward him. “What?”

“Just do it,” he insists, his voice low but commanding, the smirk on his lips never quite fading.

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicion flaring. “So Nagi can third-wheel? No.” Your tone is sharp, almost venomous.

Reo chuckles under his breath, completely unfazed. “He’s just on his phone, as usual,” he says, nodding toward the tall, silver-haired figure loitering nearby with his gaze glued to his screen. “Remember the plan,” he adds, his tone firm but with an edge of exasperation, as though he can’t believe he has to remind you.

You hesitate, glaring at his outstretched arm like it’s the most revolting thing you’ve ever seen. Your disgust is palpable, but so is the growing pressure of the watchful crowd, their murmurs and curious stares intensifying.

With a resigned sigh, you step closer, wrapping your arm around his with all the enthusiasm of someone being sentenced to a lifetime of chores. Reo, on the other hand, moves with effortless ease, draping his arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“There,” he whispers, his tone light and teasing. “See? Was that so hard?”

You glance up at him, your glare sharp enough to cut through steel. “I already regret this.”

He chuckles, the sound soft and infuriatingly smug, and together, the two of you walk further onto the school grounds, every pair of eyes on campus following your every step. “Is this how it is everyday?”

“What do you mean?”

“The attention, all the stares?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Never mind, of course you’d like it”

Upon your arrival into your regular classroom, students of boys and girls applaud for the two pretty individuals relationship, your holding hearted arms, and oh-so loving eyes, pleading with help to begone already- your arms entwined and expressions... less than thrilled.

“LOVEBIRDS!” a group of jock boys shouts from the back, their voices loud and obnoxious. One of them even makes exaggerated kissing noises, prompting laughter from their friends. Your shoulders stiffen, and your pleading eyes scream for this to end already. But Reo, ever the charmer, seems entirely at ease, raising a hand in a mock wave as if he’s royalty greeting his adoring subjects.

Before you can untangle yourself from his arm, two girls rush up to you both, their faces lit with uncontainable excitement. One has sleek black pigtails, her uniform pristine, and the other, shorter with flowy hair and bubbly eyes, practically bounces on her toes. They block your path with beaming smiles that already give away what they’re about to say.

“Is it true?” the one with pigtails asks breathlessly. “You two are really in a relationship?”

You glance at Reo, who looks back at you expectantly, leaving the answer entirely in your hands. His smirk widens slightly, clearly entertained by your discomfort.

“Yes,” you say with a forced smile, nodding coaxingly. What else could you say or do?

The girls gasp in unison, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!” the shorter one squeals. “You two are like... the it couple!”

“Totally!” the other agrees, her eyes sparkling with delight. “When did it happen? How did it happen? Was it love at first sight?”

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Your brain scrambles to come up with something remotely convincing, but all you can think about is how much you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Reo steps in smoothly, his tone effortlessly charming. “It’s a long story, maybe one for another time?” he says, flashing them one of his signature grins. His hands intertwines with you, the casual gesture almost too natural, and pulls you gently along with him toward your seat.

The room buzzes faintly, filled with whispers and muffled giggles, but you’re too focused on maintaining your composure to care. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Across the room, another group of girls huddles together, their heads bent close, their voices toxic in their secrecy yet deliberately loud enough to be overheard.

“Yuna, look,” Naomi breathes, her words sharp despite the hushed tone. She leans closer to her companion, the stale scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

Yuna’s delicate head lifts at the mention of your name, her gaze drifting reluctantly toward you. Her eyes settle on your figure, seated beside Reo, his arm draped casually over the back of your chair. The sight of his violet hair close to your own makes her stomach twist, though her expression remains unreadable.

“There she goes,” Naomi sneers, her lips curling as she watches the interaction from afar. “Do you think she’s just using his money?”

“Oh, definitely,” another girl chimes in, her tone dripping with malice.

Naomi smirks, leaning back in her chair as she twirls a strand of hair around her finger. Her eyes gleam with a dangerous combination of curiosity and cruelty as she turns to Yuna. “What do you think, Yuna? She was your friend, wasn’t she?”

Yuna hesitates, her gaze dropping to the desk in front of her. Her fingers grip the edge of it, her knuckles faintly white. “Yeah... definitely,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Encouraged by Yuna’s response, Naomi presses on, her tone growing even more poisonous. “Hey, didn’t you say her mom was, like, 32? Doesn’t that mean she got pregnant at 16?”

The question hangs in the air, sharp and cutting, and Naomi blinks her lashes expectantly at Yuna, as if waiting for her approval to unleash another round of insults.

Yuna swallows hard, her voice faltering as she murmurs, “Yeah...” The word is so quiet it’s almost swallowed by the hum of the classroom, but it carries a weight that Yuna can’t seem to shake. Naomi’s laughter, soft but biting, echoes in her ears. Meanwhile, with you, Reo, and Nagi, all remain settled down 10 minutes before class starts. “You can let go now” you nudge Reo softly

“Oh, right” You feel the faintest trace of his skin as he begins to pull away, the touch so subtle yet noticeable enough to make your chest tighten. It’s maddeningly slow, a deliberate yet unspoken hesitation that leaves you caught in a moment you don’t fully understand.

Your instincts urge you to slap his hand away, to break the strange tension that lingers in the air between you. And yet, for some reason, your subconscious betrays you, allowing his touch to linger just a little longer. You hold your breath without realizing it, suspended in the warmth of the fleeting contact until reality strikes, sharp and undeniable, breaking the spell.

You clear your throat, turning away sharply as if to shake off the lingering feeling. Reo’s hand retreats fully now, his expression unreadable but his smirk faintly returning as he leans back in his chair.

.

.

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erm hi

[starlightsreigns]

get it together | s.sikoa

summary ⇢ emelie wants to work it out, she love's sefa too much to give up, but he needs to meet her hallway. word count ⇢ 2.1k tags ⇢ minors, do not interact. angst(kinda) and explicit language. author’s corner ⇢ thank u for the request, @bratzzzdoll this was an absolute thrill to write and hope you like it! x "i don't really wanna stay, i don't really wanna go."

Emelie brushes her hair into a neat ponytail. She stares into her vanity for a long moment, takes in her facial features then gently brushes under her eyes and takes a deep breath. Emelie feels tired, she looks tired, but she presents a front to the world where everything is perfect. There was a time when everything felt perfect, but perfect doesn’t exist in this life.

Downstairs, Emelie stands in the kitchen, prepping dinner. Cooking is her safe space and anytime she needs a moment to herself, she can’t help but cook a random meal she found online or bake so many sweets she’d have to ask her friends to come over and take them before she eats it all.

The house is quieter than usual, deciding against playing music tonight so she can be fully alone with her thoughts.

Sefa should’ve been home by now, but as of late, he’s come home later and later.

What has become of their relationship? There used to be a time when he’d be home the second he was done with training or with work. He’d burst through the door and wrap his arms around her and smother her in kisses then they’d eat dinner on the couch. Yet, now, he’d stay out late with his friends and she’d barely get a kiss.

They’re complacent.

Several years down in their relationship, nothing is progressing past the point of being boyfriend and girlfriend. They don’t officially live together, there’s no talk about the future and what’s to come.

Emelie gets it, truly, she gets it. WWE is demanding and he has relationships to foster through that tight schedule, but she’s taken the back seat in his life — on the totem pole, she’s found herself at the bottom.

How do they reconcile this?

“Emz?” His voice reverberates through the house.

“In the kitchen,” Emelie shouts as she moves to a different sauce pan. She hears the kitchen door open. “Hey, baby.”

Sefa peeks over her shoulder at the food, “I’ve had a long day.” He groans.

“Oh? What happened?” Emilie focuses on the fish she’s cooking.

Without a kiss, or acknowledging her, Sefa goes on to complain about his training and the myriad of other issues with his upcoming storyline. There’s a point where Emilie zones out, looking up and out of the window at the sink.

“I’m sorry it was so bad,” Emelie rubs his shoulder and sets his dinner in front of him. “Want a drink?”

“Nah, actually, Imma go shower and put the game on.”

Emelie watched him stand from the table with his plate and walk away. She takes a step forward then immediately stops. For a moment a pang hits her chest and she wants to say something, but instead she goes to finish the dishes in the sink. Her hands work roughly on the pans as her breathing quickens. She wants to kick, scream, and cry for him to see how she feels.

The simplest route is the hardest one and it rings in her ear: Emelie just leave.

She loves Sefa more than anything. They’ve gone through so much together, they’ve been through rough patches and those were easier than the pain she’s suffering now. This isn’t the love they’ve grown through the years. It makes her question whether or not there’s someone else.

“There’s no one else.” Emelie says aloud and drops the pan in the sick. The thought shocks her. It wasn’t a safe or healthy thing to ponder. She knows deep down in her heart that Sefa wouldn’t do that.

After setting the pans to dry and cleaning up, Emelie walks into the living room to see him in front of the TV. Sefa glances back at her then goes back to the TV. She stops behind the sofa and clocks the plate still filled with food.

“You not hungry, Sefa?” Emelie questions softly.

“Nah, I had dinner with the twins earlier.”

Emelie waits for a moment, waits to see if he’ll say anything else, but continues up towards the stairs where her purse sits in the first step. If she didn’t go home tonight, she’d lose her mind. Emelie ponders on it but goes up the stairs. She doesn’t want to leave, but she needs to leave… no, she doesn’t want to leave.

In the bedroom, she stares into the mirror and decides she needs to make a point. If she doesn’t go home, Sefa will think this is okay.

“Emelie?” Sefa clears his throat as he watches her put her jacket on downstairs. “Where you goin’?”

“I’m going home.” She speaks softly while tying her shoelaces. “I need to go home.”

Sefa stands up, “Emz, what’s going on?”

Emelie whips towards him, “Get it together, Sefa, I need to go and if it’s forever is up to you.”

A quick escape is nearly impossible when he rushes in front of her. Emelie stares at him, but it’s not a look filled with anger, it’s one of sadness. She doesn’t want to do this, but her back is against a wall.

“Emelie, baby, talk to me.” Sefa holds her cheeks in the palms of his hand. “What’s going”

“Why do you treat me the way that you, Sefa, we’ve been dating for almost five years and you treat me like I’m a house lady that takes over your space when you’re here. You don’t even come home and kiss me and spend time with me anymore.” Emelie looks down to keep the tears at bay. “And now I’m begging you—”

Sefa wipes a tear off her cheek, “Baby, I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel like that.” He whispers softly and pulls her against his chest. “Please don’t leave, Emz.”

Emelie shuts her eyes for a second, “I just need to go home for the night, Sefa, I need a second.”

“i’m fed up with you not being here with me”

Her house feels colder. Emelie, for the past three years, spent most of her time at Sefa’s house. It was just easier for them to be there. She lived almost an hour away and her job was the midpoint. It was a convenient thing —but he never truly asked her to move it, so much so that she had to pack her bags for weeks at a time. Yet, the past three hours in her own home makes her slightly uncomfortable.

Emelie sits on the edge of her bed on her phone. She sighs at a text message from Sefa. She’s not going to break up with, she loves him too much for that, but Emelie just wants him to understand that there needs to be something more.

The text message makes her smile softly.

sefa: emz, i love you so much and im sorry i haven’t made you feel like i do. but baby, you the love of my life and i promise you’ll never question it ever it again. okay? can you please come home?

Emelie sighs. A second message makes her get out of bed.

sefa: emelie, will you come home? come open the door.

A silly look passes on her face as she makes her way to her front door. She opens it slowly. Sefa stands there with a bowl. He opens it slowly and Emelie can’t help but laugh softly. In the bowl is what looks like some semblance of food, but she’s not sure what.

“I cooked you dinner, and I’m hopin’ we can eat it at home together.” Sefa gives her a sincere grin. “Emelie, forgive me baby and I’ll never take you for granted ever again.”

Emelie stares at him for a second and nods. “I forgive you, baby,”

Sefa sets the bowl down then pulls Emelie into him and plants a soft kiss on her lips. She melts into him and smiles until they pull away.

“I know this is a couple years overdue, but Emz, I want you to move in. I want you to feel comfortable. It’s always been our home and you should feel like it is.” Sefa moves her hair out of her face. “Is it a yes?”

“I just want us to have better communication,” Emelie searches his eyes. “But yes, I’ll move in with you, baby.” She smiles brightly, jumping into his arms.

“You know love is all I need”

Emelie stares into the mirror as she nitpicks her outfit. She spent over an hour trying to figure out what to wear until she landed on a little red dress Sefa bought for her years ago, she paired it with the highest heels she owns, and allowed her curls to fan out over her shoulder. Emelie smiles into the mirror. In all honesty, Sefa hinted at wanting to see her in the outfit tonight, so she obliged.

“Good enough to fuck,” she laughs at herself.

Since moving in, things have been… a work in progress. Things don’t change overnight, but Sefa is better at his communication and it’s made things easier to work on. Most days are easier than others, but five years makes you immune sometimes.

Tonight, Emelie decided to surprise him. In her sexiest outfit, she made his favorite meal, his second favorite dessert and kept his favorite dessert (her), ready to go.

Yet, the clock reads 10 and Emelie finds herself sitting alone at the dinner table. She looks down at her phone with a deep breath. She opens her text messages and sends him one message.

Emelie: hey baby, you coming home soon?

… then another fifteen minutes later.

Emelie: hey, are you okay?

… and another.

Emelie: Sefa. Just let me know you’re alive and safe.

Once the clock reads 11:45, Emelie is past the point of anger. He was supposed to be home at 8:30. She glances at her phone when he finally texts back and her jaw drops.

Sefa: damn emzzz, im otw

A ticking time bomb activates inside of her. She pushes her chair back and grabs the plates of food from the table. Emelie practically kicks down the door of the kitchen and marches to the trash can. Through the anger, she drops the food and the plates into the trash.

“He really must have me fucked up.” She grits.

Emelie paces the kitchen in hopes to calm herself down. Finally, she takes a massive breath and exits the kitchen in time to see Sefa walk through the door. Her eyes zeros in on him and he can see the anger in them.

“Baby, please, just come here.” He immediately runs towards and takes her hand. “Emz, lemme explain and I swear it’ll make sense.”

She doesn’t respond. Emelie can’t find a word to describe her anger nor her disappointment. Everything has been going so good and he goes and fucks it up like this.

“First of all, I’m sorry I ain’t text back or called before.” He cups her face. “I’m sorry about the dinner I know you cooked for us.” Sefa glances back at the table.

Emelie pouts softly as she feels the tears coming, “Sefa, what the fuck is up with you?”

“Baby, just come with me and I’ll show you.”

As hesitant as Emelie was, she followed him out to his car. It wasn’t too long of a drive and confusion knits on her face when they pull into a neighborhood. The houses are extravagant, not that Sefa’s house wasn’t already insane, but these were just insane!

Sefa opens the passenger side door and helps Emelie out.

“What are we doin’ here?” Emelie looks at him. “Whose fucking house is this?”

A look passes on Sefa’s face. He stares at Emelie then smiles, “This our house, baby.”

Emelie doesn’t move and she doesn’t say a word. Her mouth hangs open as she turns to look at it. It’s a house out of her pinterest board dreams.

“You’re fucking lying,” Emelie gasps and walks up to him. “You’re lying, is the bitch you’re fucking living here?” She jokes.

“Baby, the only person I’m fucking is you, and we live here.”

It was all too much. Emelie pulls him closer and crashes her lips onto his. The tears that were at bay earlier fall like a waterfall onto her cheek. Sefa hugs her waist tightly and hums.

“I know I’m not the easiest to love, Emelie, but you deserve this and more.” He peers into her eyes whilst holding her up. “I love you.”

Emelie rubs her nose against his, “I’ll always love, Sefa, no matter what.”

“Wanna go see inside?” Sefa whispers against her lips. “I think you gonna like the bedroom.”

Emelie bites her lip, “Of course.”

this was very fun to write, hope you all enjoyed it x

send your request, as usual, and i'll try to get them done!

[elementalwriter67]

I’m listening to Epic the Musical again (shocking I know) and maladaptive daydreaming as one does. So now it is my personal headcannon that the Apollo Cabin uses places around the camp to re-enact the musical when it is not actively in use. It’s only while they’re not in use because Chiron gave them all a lecture and dish duty and pegasus pen clean out for a month because they disrupted training one day while re-enacting the Circe Saga resulting in a few (read: multiple) injuries so now it’s either use non-active areas or don’t do it at all. And the Apollo Cabin would sooner die than not re-enact any musical much less Epic the Musical, so they do as they’re told.

They have a handful of places that are on rotation. 1st is the Mess Hall/area and they love to use this one to re-enact the ithaca saga because the pillars, torches, and tables make recreating “Hold them Down” and “Odysseus” real nice. And yes they do incorporate actual weapons. Don’t tell Chiron.

2nd-The wall is used on the occasion for the Troy Saga but it gets tiring climbing to the top so they switch it out every now and again for the amphitheater. It’s a lot easier to climb.

3rd- The Canoe Lake gets used a lot for the ocean saga and the underworld saga. Yes they do canoe across it every now and again for the authenticity. No they do not care about the concerned looks they get from other campers. Yes their spear throwing skills have improved because of the “aim for the sky” bit. They will occasionally use the lake for the Thunder Saga as well but they like to use a different place a lot more.

4th- The Amphitheater gets used a lot more for the Wisdom saga and the Circe Saga (though they do like to swap in the north woods every now and again for the Circe Saga because the Nymphs like to participate in that one every now and again.) They use the amphitheater mainly just because it feels right and that’s the best explanation you’re gonna get from them. Sometimes you just gotta go with the vibes man.

5th and final place is Cabin 1 and yes they do preform inside the cabin and yes it is used because Thalia is basically never home and well Jason’s dead so it’s free real-estate and yes they use it for the Thunder Saga and the Thunder Saga only. They’re pretty sure using it for the Thunder Saga is the only reason their cabin is still standing to be honest, Using this location did take a while for the whole cabin to warm up to because many of them were like “Zeus barely tolerates our dad he’s gonna fuckin kill us if we use his Cabin for this and he catches wind of it.” Eventually they all chilled out and started using it for it when enough of them hadn’t died for using it. Unbeknownst to them the only reason Zeus doesn’t do anything is because the damn musical does a good job representing him and damn it all if it isn’t catchy. So he lets it slide. For now.

@clea-nightingale

[obvithe-bestsoph]

hi can you do a prompt for pedri n• 75 "Isn't it a lot more fun to fuck than fight?"

No. 75 | "Isn't it much more fun fucking than fighting?" PG8 masterlist requests prompt list (if you request a prompt, please request a player for it as well!) warnings: VERY suggestive (borderline smut, but nothing graphic), arguing

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop leaving dishes in the sink?! Or to put away the bread?!” you shout, finally raising your voice at him, clattering the dishes in the sink and roughly shoving the bread back into the pantry. 

“I’m sorry, alright? I was busy,” he argued back. “Busy playing FIFA with your boyfriend?” you interrupt, your tone laced with venom, referring to how he was constantly talking to and spending time with Gavi. “Oh, please. You know it’s not like that, I’m in love with you, not him, plus that’s not what this argument is about, so don’t bring that into this.” “It may as well be! I bet after this you’ll just go and text him, complaining about how annoying your girlfriend is, constantly nagging you!” you give him a sharp glare and continue to harshly shove dishes into the dishwasher, slamming the door of it shut and then moving on to angrily cleaning all his junk off the counter. “Oh my god, Pedro. You do know things have a home for a reason, right? And I’m telling you right now, their home is not my counter.” you huff, throwing a random coin that was sitting there at him, but he catches it easily, only making you more annoyed. You begin ranting on about all the things he does around the house that piss you off when you feel yourself being spun around and pinned against the counter, trapped between his warm body and the cool marble. It’s only a few moments before you feel his lips on your neck, those stupid, perfect teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. But after that, it’s only a matter of time until you’re spun around again so your ass is against him, he bends you over and strips your bottom half.

After a few rough thrusts, you hear a husky voice in your ear.

 "Isn't it much more fun fucking than fighting?"

[dudddleee]

Let's see huh

Nerdy seb asks kimi out with a cute ecoli petri dish. Like writes something like "I like you ♡" or "will you be mh boyfriend" yadayada

Ngl imagine if kimi isn't in science and ate it 💀

Kimi hears his phone buzz. That must be Seb. Only person allowed through his Do Not Disturb mode.

-- Can you get me some coffee please?

He could use a break. This simulation was going nowhere. He picks up Seb’s coffee, almond milk cappuccino with non-fat whip and two pumps of vanilla syrup, and a black coffee for him. Of course he memorised his boyfriend’s coffee order. 

It’s a short walk to Seb’s biology building. 

-- I’m outside.

Soon enough, Seb comes out of his lab. “Thank you so much, Kimi. I needed that,” Seb says as he lets out a satisfied sign, “Do you want to see what I’m working on right now?” 

“Sure.” 

They put down the coffee on Seb’s office desk and walks into the lab. Kimi thinks it’s amazing how different a biology lab could look, no screeching sounds of metal on a lathe, no smell of lubricants or adhesives, just the smell of alcohol and a distinct smell of animals and nature. 

“Look!” Seb gestures, a small petri dish. White speckles on a milky base. The white speckles spelled I love you.  

“I love you too. What is this?” Kimi asks. It looks like jelly. Kimi gave it a wiggle. It wiggles. Like jelly. He poked it. Almost like jelly. He scooped some up to taste it. Not jelly. 

“Kimi, no! That’s E. coli!” Seb looked worried. He also looked like he was about to burst into laughter, “Why would you eat that? Why would you put anything in a lab in your mouth?”

“It looked like jelly. It didn’t taste like it.” Can’t blame him, they should have made it look less like jelly.

Seb bursted out with laughter. “Oh Kimi, never change.” 

Kimi was fine. No issues eating whatever that ecoli thing was. 

——

“Here.” 

Seb got handed a simple silver band, matching silver chain looping through. “What is this?”

“I made it. For you.” Kimi said, scratching his neck. Seb knew he was embarrassed. His boyfriend was adorable.

The ring had grooves running through them. Seb pushed at the grooves, and the ring opened. Like the orbit of the planets on the solar system. I love you engraved on one, the date that they met on another. 

“Don’t eat it.” Kimi said, a smile on his face. 

“It’s beautiful. I love you” 

“I love you too.” 

——————————

Kimi made Seb an astronomical ring :) He's an engineer and a jewellery maker :)))

[neon-danger]

That sounds really silly. I'd unironically enjoy having an legit excuse to not have to do the dishes tho. Sorry I can't do the dishes, if my scales get too wet I'll involuntarily transform. :)

My dad does the dishes because none of his kids do it “correctly”

[itspileofgoodthings]

had a very nice realization about peace, especially spiritual peace, the other day. (Been brewing for a while.) and it’s just: peace is for the non-peaceful.

[simgerale]

me after attempting to get back into sims and realizing i had a lot more to do than play the game

[bibleofficial]

god bless sleeping 12hrs nightly

[skyland2703]

…ok so I got inspired <3

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.

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Thesis in the tags

[foreverppl]

Moodboard for Amais Rena (he/they), lead singer of alt rock band Way Way Downers @infamous-if

Playlist

[boomerang109]

(guy who’s literally nocturnal): i didn’t realize i was doing that badly