#i needa hop on this

[a-blip-of-billdip]

not enough people use bills ability to change his size when hes in human form...

give me size difference billdip!!! i wanna see dipper skewered like a kebab!!!!!!!!!

[peawinkls]

why jfabe is NOT!!!! boring and lifeless and proving that wrong, an informational thread discussing their relationship and dynamic, because honestly im getting tired of ppl saying their boring

contains s3 spoilers!

The relationship between JFK and abe from Clone High is something alot of people within the community discussed, especially before s3, being talked about more after s2's finale. Many speculated that the two would remain friends or even become more than that.

Now with season 3 out, we have a lot more things to work out with, specifically episode 3. It's something a lot of people are too afraid to admit, but jfabe/abefk would make the show a lot more interesting, rather than its repeatable joanabe plotline.

So, I'm here to talk about the inner workings of this pair, why their so interesting, and why they work out so much, whether platonic or not. If ur not a fan of jfabe/abefk, or heavily dislike the ship, I'd recommend turning away from this post.

Introduction, the who, the when, the why, the how...and their differences n similarities

So, we all know these two characters. JFK the beloved, Abe the hated. Something that many people picked out of the 2020 clone high fandom. But what if i told you that the beloved and the hated were truly meant to be together from the start?

What we already know is that they are the complete opposite of each other in many ways. JFK is meant to be a parody on 90s jocks from highschool movies and tv shows. Abe is the weak nerd who desperately wants to be cool.

JFK is buff and shorter, Abe is tall and lanky. JFK is a douchebag, Abe is the nicer guy. The list goes on and on. And they even have stuff in common, such as the fear of abandonment and the fear of ruining things.

But one difference i can note is that Abe is way more naive than JFK, JFK is portrayed as empty-headed, but not empty-headed enough to not realize whats going on. Of course, despite the differences, both characters make a really good team.

And this was even evident in s2 ep10, aka the finale, where they both realize that they make a great "duo of bros who'll remain friends for the rest of their lives". Jfabe shippers were FEEDING on this shit back then you have no idea

So with this stuff out of the way, it's time to talk about my favorite episode out of season 3.

Bible Humpers: A Much Needed Praycation

This episode revolves around JFK getting tired of having meaningless sex with girls and partying hard, and decides to seek out a new life when he and Abe discovers the prayer pals club, hosted by Lady Godiva. And at first, Abe is happy to see that JFK is taking on new opportunities.

"Where the slut goes, the wing slut follows."

But eventually, JFK starts straying away from Abe and his friendship, to the point of even FORGETTING about the broniversary that Abe had planned for the both of them (he literally baked a giant cake for him, look at me and tell me thats straight cmon now).

Seeing how Abe had already lost Joan and Gandhi, he didn't wanna lose JFK either, and does everything he can to make him happy and thats so clear. And even at the end of the episode, it's revealed that Abe even respected his choice on ultimately choosing celibacy.

He really does care a bunch for JFK, liking him for who he truly was (compared to JFK's other dates) and respecting his choices. And despite choosing celibacy over Abe, the two still remain close, which really tells you how great their bond is.

So something HAS definitely changed throughout the years, from them hating each others guts to potentially becoming clone highs next couple...which didn't happen, and I'm still petty about it i will admit.

But even if they didn't become canon at the end, you could really tell that some people who worked on this episode wanted them to be a thing, and that's a good enough sign for me that they could hopefully become canon in the next season if we ever get one (still petty though).

Let's circle back to season 1 again. I'm not making a jfabe thread without mentioning Litter Kills: Literally, which is another episode that jfabe shippers fed on. In this episode, JFK's close friend Ponce dies, and he's left to grieve over him.

And in this episode, we see a side of JFK that we never saw before. He starts wondering why the hell he's feeling all of these emotions, because he's a Kennedy, and he's not used to them. But Abe helps him realize that emotions like this are normal.

And even if the two hated each other, Abe apologized to him in the end and finally realized his mistakes. It seemed like Abe disliked him, yet he cares about him. Abe never knew what if felt like, because he hasn't lost a friend close to him.

So he starts berating Cleo for comforting JFK and was even aggressive towards JFK as well, believing that he was only doing all of this just to take Cleo away from him. That was all because he NEVER knew what it was like. But he finally understood.

He was sorry, but he felt like he couldn't do much to help because he didn't experience the same thing. So he just hugged JFK and held him...for a really long time.

But that was just enough for JFK, all he needed was comfort, and Abe chose to do that. So even at the episode, he couldn't help but ask JFK if he was alright. And by the next episode, JFK was already feeling better. All it takes is someone to tell you that its gonna be okay.

So what I'm trying to say is despite their own anxieties, flaws, characteristics, whatever, their PERFECT for each other. I don't like how people label them as "boring", when their so much more deeper than that.

Jfabe/AbeFK is one of my comfort ships for this exact reason. Their lore, dynamic and relationship goes beyond that, i don't ship them just because i think their cute, but because their interesting, and it may seem like im going insane over a white boy ship, but i truly, truly, from the bottom of my heart, love this ship to pieces, and hopefully people can see that through me. Thank you, clone high.

[sophfandoms53]

Yo im lost, is the vote actually flipping for Meme to go?? Bc apparently Cameron’s down for it now???

What the fuck is happening

[achillean-knight]

Travesty, I cannot do what I did for prev art fight years.

My ass can't start drawing 1 hour after waking up, BC it gave me a massive ass headache 😭

Good to know at the start of the fight atleast. This means attacks will- be really slow from me, given I have to stay away from my laptop the first half of the day, or atleast let my eyes rest after waking up GAHH

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - jealousy

miguel gets jealous possessive after a new intern flirts with you this is part of the same universe as my call oneshot!

Being 2nd in charge of the multiverse is... honestly not that hard for you. It’s mostly just co-leading, and being a secretary. Lyla helps out a bunch, but sometimes, a sassy AI can only do so much. 

Jess informed you of a new intern she recruited. Apparently, he’s having his first day today, which means you’ll probably have to do a quick run-through of things with him later. 

For now, it’s your fated duty to sit with Miguel at his desk so he doesn’t get all pouty later. He starts huffing and puffing when you aren’t near, takes it out on the kids sometimes. 

Thanks to your suggestion, Miguel invested in a nice desk and swivel chair for the office, so now it looks more like an actual workspace instead of a maniac’s plot room. (either way, he his one lmao)

Since Lyla’s gone for the time being, you’re standing up on the office platform, tapping away at a multitude of screens. Miguel lays lazily in the office chair, swiveled up behind you to rub his face into your upper back, as well as run his hands along your tummy. 

“Hun, you gotta let go. I needa tour the intern.” You mutter, closing in on an ID photo of the recruit.

“No.“

“Well, if I don’t do it, then who will?“ You ask. 

“Jess.“

“She’s busy on her break. Pregnant women need breaks, you know.“

“Ugh. I don’t want you to leave.“ He whines. squeezing you tighter. 

You start squirming out of his grip, pulling his pinky off of your stomach. Inching away, you push Miguel away by his head. Reluctantly, he starts letting you go, lazily running his hands onto the skin of your hips and lower thighs before letting go. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, baby.“ You say, scuffing up his hair with your palm. Gracefully, you leap down from the platform, somersaulting onto the floor and skating out the exit. You hop over a few stray cardboard boxes. 

Miguel watches you stroll away, and fixes his hair back into place. 

Lyla magically appears, phasing in and out with a different sly look each time. She snickers, flickering all around Miguel’s head. 

“Whipped.“

“Shut the fuck up.“

. . .

Miguel’s blood starts to boil as soon as you roll in with that stupid, bastard of an intern. He’s too close to you for comfort, so close to his arm nudging yours... Miguel’s teeth start to clench, his fangs close to drawing blood from his mouth. He’s paying too much attention to you, there’s a vibe he gets that he hates to his core. 

Everything about him is aggravating; the blonde hair, the snarky smirk, all of it.  

“...and this is Miguel’s office!“ You say, gesturing your hand to the majority of the area. 

“Sweet, nice to meet the bossman.“

Bossman, his ass. Miguel would only ever let you call him bossman. 

“Miguel! Come down!“ You yell, and his heart warms in his chest. He turns around from his standing form on the office platform, eyeing the intern in order to scare him a bit. 

“Hey, what’s up man! Glad to finally meet the man behind the slaughter!“ The intern exclaims, his hands rested on his hips. 

Miguel fights every urge to both roll his eyes and tackle the recruit, keeping a somewhat straight face on. He chuckles a little, not a single trace of a smile on his face. 

“Heh, yeah? Excited to meet the bossman?“ Miguel taunts, but it looks like the intern can’t tell he is. 

“Heck yeah dude! Where do I start?“

Miguel starts nodding a little, plastering on a face smile, chuckling a bit...

Before he throws the entire office chair at the recruit. Not to hit you, though. He’d never, ever hit you. 

Instantly, the intern turns away, shielding his body with his hands. In the nick of time, though, you latch your webbing onto the chair, slinging it away to side before it could harm anyone. You cross your arms. 

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about tha- MIGUEL!“ You scream. 

And he throws a literal file cabinet at the man. Again, you latch it out of way without problem. 

“What th'heck, man?! What’s your fuckin’ problem?!“ The intern yells, spreading his arms out. 

“My fuckin’ problem is you nagging my wife!“ He roars. 

“Wait a sec- she’s your wife?“

Miguel then  leaps down from the platform, chin held up high in a sinister glare. Slowly, he steps over towards the both of you, fixing his eyes on the intern the entire time. 

Miguel’s tall, really tall compared to the newbie. He pokes his finger to the recruit, leaning in real close. 

“Stay at least 5 feet away from my wife at all times.“ Miguel utters, and you kinda feel bad for the new guy. 

You cross your arms. “C’mon, Miguel. He’s literally new, take it easy on him!” You say back, and Miguel pouts, whines. Possessively, he reaches over to you, pulling in you in by the hip to try to soothe you. It doesn’t work, and you present yourself from giving into his needy touches.  

And then, you turn around back to the newbie. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about that! He’s usually not like this-”

“Man, fuck this.“ The intern exclaims, taking a few steps back in agitation. “Take me back home, I ain’t dealin’ with this shit!“

He storms off, kicking a stray cardboard box on the way out. 

“Aw, crap.“

“Finally.“

You swerve back around, hands on your hips. “Miguel, that was uncalled for.”

“Yes it was! He was smothering all over you!“ He yells, throwing his hands up in the air like it was the most obvious thing ever. 

“Well, now thanks to you, we lost a recruit.“

“One of literally thousands!“

“And now, there’s papers everywhere on the floor!“

“Shhh, honey, I’ll clean it up later.“

Ignoring your frown, Miguel finally pulls you into him, pressing your lower back into his own with a nose into your hair.

“I saw the way he put his arm around you. He was flirting with you too. Hated it.“ Miguel utters. 

“When?“ You ask.

“On the surveillance.“ He says, and you sigh. He’s right, the guy was flirting with you for a bit, but you chose to ignore it so you could get over with the tour faster. 

“Eh, he gave me the heebie jeebies from the beginning.“ You say, and Miguel automatically squeezes you tighter into him, a deep grumble bellowing from his inner throat.

“I’m never letting you tour anyone ever again.“ Miguel admits.

“After that? Go ahead.“ You scoff, and finally, he sighs in relief. 

He tries drags you back to the office platform again, but then forgets that he threw the chair, grumbling in regret. Instead, he just hovers behind you for the rest of the day, occasionally pressing a smooch to your head. 

[laiiaaa]

CINNAMON SUGAR — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.

length 2k

contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice

Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesn’t block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. It’s late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.

He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when you’re asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.

You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. “…Bear?”

“Yeah, ‘s me, baby.” Even at a whisper, he thinks he’s too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.

A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hours’ rest. “You coming to bed soon?”

“Almost,” he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks he’s worthy of. “Needa take a shower first, alright? But I’ll be right back.” 

He could’ve done that much by now—could’ve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing you—but truthfully, waiting any longer would’ve driven him mad. He would’ve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he could’ve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.

“Okay,” you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.

He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. There’s a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the day’s stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampoo—the one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that he’s been purchasing ever since to keep you happy—before cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better it’d feel, how much more relief he’d get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. You’ve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and you’re waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, he’ll do it.

He hops out of the water like it’s acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, he’ll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing more—you’ll keep him warm enough under the blankets.

It’s only then—when he peels back those final layers—that he realizes he’s been smiling the whole time.

Once he’s settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, you’re turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there. 

“Hey,” he coos, “Y’don’t have to move f’me, yeah? Just sleep, baby.” Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder. 

And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. “ ‘S more comfy this way, Carm.” You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. “You smell good, too.”

He can’t even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesn’t run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. “ ‘S that shampoo you got me a while ago…Sometime this week—” he yawns, and if he weren’t dying to hear your voice a few more times, he’d be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easily— “Sometime this week we can go t’the store, you can pick out another body wash f’me to try, too.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. “How was it today?” The restaurant. His headaches. Richie’s mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.

“Was alright,” he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. “Real busy, so I didn’t get to leave ‘till late, ‘m sorry.”

“ ‘S alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.” You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. “I was gonna ask you to bring something home, but it’s a weekend, so I didn’t wanna bother you in a rush.”

“What’d you want?”

From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds he’s ever heard. “I just wanted some fries, honestly…didn’t feel like going out.”

“Heh,” he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceiling—as if looking at you would make the moment disappear. “I would’ve picked ‘em up for you, ‘r at least had Fak get ‘em to you.”

You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answer’s a bit softer. “Uh-uh, I like them better when you make ‘em.”

“Yeah? ‘ve I been pampering you too much?” He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but it’s all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work he’s put in—all the love he has for you—makes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person he’s sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any critic’s review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and that’s enough.

“Of course you have,” you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. “You’re always so sweet to me, Bear—” one more quick peck just beneath his ear— “love when you cook for me.”

He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he can’t always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: “Y’know, uh…Marcus’s been playing around with recipes…”

He feels you smile against his chest, knowing what’s to come. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an’ I’d never let ‘im serve ‘em, ‘cause, y’know…” He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. “They don’t fit the menu…but uh, he made these…these rolls today…”

“Mhm? ‘M listening…”

Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. “I think you’d like ‘em, he had some classic cinnamon, ‘n…a blueberry lemon goin’…”

“That sounds really good,” you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.

“I know,” he drawls, and he’s a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, “Which is why I said I’d let ‘im fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.”

“Did you really?” The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call. 

He figures that’s why he’s so drawn to you—all the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. “ ‘F course, baby…” 

It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries it’ll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, he’d stop breathing before pulling your hand away. It’s soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when you’re not around.

“I brought…” He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. “I brought you some of the cinnamon rolls…Sugar liked ‘em…they’re on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'…” He’s not sure whether it’s your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed he’s ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.

“Thank you, my love,” slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline. 

And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over him���at least part of him does, the part that’s still awake—because the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle there’s a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesn’t warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.

Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, you’ll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.

And he’ll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.

[goaskangel]

helping an overworked john price !

you knew how busy john price could get at the base, especially if he’s stuck in his office with a crippling stacks of paperwork. so you took it as your responsibility, even as the captain’s girlfriend, to let him finish his work up with any distractions or interruptions, and god knows that man can get worked up. like a puppy, you’d stand outside his door, guarding it. maybe leaving your post for a quick coffee run to the lunch room and returning it back inside to his desk, you give each other a quick smile or nod. later you’d walk around the camp, accepting any errand from team members just to keep yourself occupied. 

the next time you gently close his door from the inside and ask him if he’d like another cup. 

“no, that’s alright.” his voice so deep that he clears his throat, most likely from the long period of muteness. you walk towards him and grin when you make contact with him, he sits up in his seat just a little, signaling for a peck. you kiss him and feel him get up casually. 

“don’t go jus’ yet, love.” 

you nod, even when he’s walking away to a file cabinet, his strong back facing you. you hop onto the empty space of his desk and kick your feet gently. john’s hands are warm when he cups your cheeks. you blush at the impact and feel his words go straight to your core, “miss lookin’ at this pretty face. been so busy, i ain’t have the time to see ya.” you giggle and paw at his chest when his beard scratches your face as he kisses you for longer. 

“needa break, birdie.” he mumbles between his kisses, he starts to toy with the various straps of your bra and tank top. you lean back according to his sudden eagerness, supporting yourself whilst his bigger body stands between your dangling legs. as if he’s inhaling you, he only stops smothering you with his love when you pull away for some air. “want it, john.” you find yourself almost moaning out when his large hands come to grasp your thighs, keeping your legs spread at his waist. 

“bad girl. tryna get a working man to submit to your neediness. mm, you’re lucky i’m willing.” he places a kiss on your shoulder before digging his fingers to the band of your shorts. he’s dragged your lower half to complete nudity while he tosses his shirt to his chair. the heat in the entire base almost unbearable, but you thank it for the sight of seeing john’s unshorn body glistening. his strong muscled arms much sexier unconfined to even a compression top. your bare cunt throbbing at the sight. 

“baby,” you call as he unbuckles his tight belt, “i didn’t lock the door.”

“ah, yes. but ‘ts all apart the thrill, love.” unzipping his loose jeans, “bet ya won’t remember the lock very well after i’m done with you.” you wanna slap the smirk off his mouth but your fingers dig into the wood desk when he slips his leaking tip against your sex. gathering that wetness, he smears it against his stiff length. john holds your legs against and prods at your very welcoming body before slipping in, slowly. 

“sh sh, gonna need ya to focus on not makin’ a peep, ‘kay love?” you would’ve stayed quiet regardless if his sweet honeyed voice had told you so, but god was it hard to. 

his large, uncut cock seems to force its path into your tight heat. you felt full even at halfway. the stretch burning exactly how you needed it, you don’t mind if the bite you have on your lip starts to bleed. 

he damn near growls through his barred teeth, “fuckin’ hell…” he holds his grip on your chubby thighs and bottoms out inside you. he wastes no time, quickening his pace, leaving your sweet pussy halfway just to return all the way back inside. you nod at the impact and start to shift and move your hips down to meet him. the deep, quiet groans and moans he lets out make you clench impossibly. 

after a good set of thrusts, he pulls out, letting your leg go to squeeze at the base of his cock. a thick amount of pre pours from your stretched cunt along with your own arousal, you gawk at the mess as you continue to leak down onto the floor, your shaking leg writhing at price’s side for his support. “what a sight, huh?” his very much hearted pupils watch the scene unfold upon him. he grabs your leg and shoves his way back inside of you, you hum at the needed fill. 

his voice is just above a whisper, “gonna be good for me and let me fill ‘er up?” it’s insane how quickly you nod. 

“yeah…pump this pretty cunt, mhm.” he takes a couple of good strokes before pressing flushed against your lower thighs, releasing his love out in you. you’d thank him immediately if your own orgasm didn’t crash down onto you, letting a pained, loud whine. but he can’t just stop there, he pulls his half-hard on out and teases your sensitive body. pushing his load by the tip back into you. cooing at how well you stay pliable and open for him. “so good…yep…my perfect girl, yes you are…” how couldn’t he love you, you just take such good care of him!

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Dating a ghost isn't easy...

I love my boyfriend. I really do, but his death has put a strain on our relationship. At least Halloween is close which means his spirit is close too. Like always, I spend lunch alone at our favorite cafe, waiting for him to fill the empty seat next to me. I jump when a burly worker throws his heavy frame down, blaring a husky, "Hey sexy! Give your man a smile!"

"Danny?" I ask, shaken by the guy's abrupt arrival and more-than-rough countenance.

"The name's Gordon," he bellows back, draping his dirty arms and legs aggressively outward, "But yeah, it's me sugar, your dead boyfriend. I thought you'd appreciate me showing up in a hunky body of the working man!" He flexes one of his thick arms and flashes challenging looks at some of the nearby customers.

His crass words make me shudder. My Danny was soft-spoken, charming, and thoughtful: nothing like the rude, stinking gorilla in front of me. Sure, a big hairy construction worker like this is great to fantasize about, but it's less exciting when that hulking body is sitting right there. His cocky mannerisms, sour body odor, and wandering eyes that seem to undress everyone they land on: it all adds to the growing pit in my stomach.

"You just gonna stare, sweet-lips?" he goes on, snickering with Gordon's deep timbre, "Spent the morning jackhammering the sidewalk, but now I could hammer your organs out!"

"Danny!" I blush, checking to see if anyone overheard. They're already staring, probably wondering why this guy sat down at this nice cafe caked in mud, "Can you cool it with this Gordon-the-macho-construction-worker vibe? I know you can't help it, but it's a bit much!"

"Fuck! Just shut up and kiss me already," he grunts, leading his heavy body covered in sweat with puckered lips in my direction.

"Danny sto-OH!" I can't help but melt into the bulky embrace. With arms like Gordon's, I don't have much choice, and though his breath smells like cigarettes and his skin is slick with sweat, I enjoy finally kissing my boyfriend again even if it is through the mouth of some ridiculously unmannered construction worker. At least I've got my boyfriend back!

"That's my boy," he growls low in my ear, and I feel a strong hand squeeze my ass tightly through its filthy work glove. Fuck! Danny is so assertive inside this Gordon character.

"Babe, please not here," I wheeze from the effort of escaping the intensely strong grip, "And not with Gordon. Aren't you tired of being an dumb, hairy ape yet?"

"Not at all!" he announces as he reclines in his seat, almost yelling with Gordon's loud voice.

I shake my head, admittedly feeling more and more amused by this rough-around-the-edges giant. Ever since Danny passed away and started possessing people, I realized hopping into bodies wasn't like the movies. He didn't just jump into some dude and take over, his soul became entwined with that other person. All of his hosts have personalities, memories, and habits that bleed into Danny as long as he's wearing them. Honestly, more of the host shines through than my actual boyfriend does, but regardless of who he possesses, his love for me is never affected. I suppose that's enough to put up with some of the more unpleasant quirks of each guy he takes over.

"I don't mind walkin' around in Gordo's boots," he grins at me, obviously at home in the man's sun-dried skin, "But lemme see if I can find a cleaner stiff to hop in for ya."

With that, Danny hoists himself off chair. I swear every move he makes in that body is startling, shaking the table with the ruckus of his tool belt being carelessly whipped around. Seeing the burly worker stand there with his hands on his hips makes me almost regret suggesting he swap out of the body. Sure the mud, sweat, and body hair makes my skin itch, but imagining that thug attacking me with his careless dominance is turning me on: not to mention the tight ass beneath that denim.

"Lunch break is almost over. Needa head back to the yard," he growls and then catches himself, "I mean Gordon does. I'll be back in someone else to finish this fuckin' date!"

"You're a real working man, Gordon," I tease, understanding this character a bit better "I'm sure you're the big boss on site."

"You bet yer ass, I am," he thumbs his chest proudly, "Someone's gotta keep the guys runnin' smoothly. Who else gonna do it?"

"Well I'll let you get back to work. Hopefully I'll run into you again. Maybe at home tonight?"

"Hell yeah!" he bursts, "I'll hop in this guy later, so I can take a look at your plumbing. Anything you need! ...I'll be your handyman, baby!"

"Hope you don't mind getting your hands dirty," I wink, and he flashes me one last wild grin from Gordon's face. That grin falters, and the construction worker shudders. His eyes still stare at me, but I can tell they don't recognize me anymore. Danny's left his body.

"Uh, sorry 'bout that," the real Gordon mumbles, "Dunno what came over me."

"Don't worry about it."

"We know each other?" he asks, pawing at his head in desperate confusion, "We been chattin' like we do. Only just realized I don't think I know you like I thought I did." The poor guy's mind is probably racing with conflicting ideas.

The laborer chuckles nervously. I can tell Gordon is completely unsure about what he's been doing. Danny seems to have that effect on his hosts. Understand that they're still conscious while he possesses them; his thoughts just merge with their own. So, right now, Gordon the rough-neck construction worker is trying to reconcile the fact that he's been thinking of me as his boyfriend for the last twenty minutes. The poor guy's probably never had a gay thought in his life! Yet he just spent his break flirting with some random guy at a random cafe. He even kissed me, and I'm pretty sure Danny was imagining some rather homoerotic things with that guy's head.

"Sorry, man," I shrug, pretending to be just as clueless as he is.

"Fuckin' queer," his face hardens into a glare before he leaves our inexplicable lunch date.

"See you tonight, Gordo!" I call lightheartedly.

The construction worker gives me an intense scowl, but I can see blushing cheeks under that matted beard. Danny definitely had some sexual thoughts while possessing that guy, and Gordon seems completely embarrassed that those thoughts were in his head. Well, his opinion on the subject will completely change once again tonight when Danny hops back in.

"Afternoon, sir," a voice hums to my right, "Got some time to thank me for my service?"

"Danny?" I immediately gasp.

"In the flesh," the policeman flirts with a cool voice, "At least, in your hometown hero's flesh." Danny enjoys a sip of coffee and shoots me a smile from the man's sparkling white teeth.

"Uh, are you sure you should be inside a cop," I whisper, leaning in so our fellow cafe-goers won't hear. They were already staring when a big blue-collar bear sat opposite me, but now their intrigue is growing from this man of the law. It doesn't help that this cop is a local celebrity! Nearly everyone's seen him on the news. With a face like that, it's no wonder the force chose him for public relations.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he extends a capable hand, "The name's Officer Steele."

"Well, officer," I try not to swoon too hard as Danny forcefully shakes my palm, "I'm-"

"You're my lover," he interjects warmly, "I know you like a man in uniform, sir. Why not enjoy the best guy this town has in uniform?"

"Wow, I..." I fumble, "...yup. Are you sure I'm not keeping you from anything important?"

"I've got patrol duty today," he nonchalantly answers, "But the town’s quiet. Besides, a guy’s gotta take a break sometime, right? Can’t be all work and no play." The officer's sneer is dripping with pride, clearly keeping a high opinion of himself! I doubt this man would be so open if Danny weren't in their making Steele think I'm his lover. Who knew the cop was as arrogant as he was charming?

"Aren't your fellow police counting on you to protect and serve, officer?"

"Oh sir, I can show you how well I protect and serve. And my men know better than to question me. I mean, look at me. Who else is gonna chase down the perps? Certainly not those doughnut-loving desk jockeys.” Steele stares me down with a confident, haughty look as he rises out of the chair. It's hard to do anything but listen and watch when Danny's wearing a guy like this. His eyes grip me in a trance while his fingers undo his shirt buttons.

"Like what you see, sir?" Officer Steele smirks.

I can only answer with a dumb nod as I drink in the sight of his chiselled torso. Somehow the dusting of blonde fur only defines his perfect musculature further. At this point, everyone in the cafe has stopped to gawk at the cop stripping in the middle of their lunch.

"You make one hell of a cop, Danny," I breathe.

"It's Officer Steele, remember?" he winks, and bounces his pecs, rippling the fabric dangling off his shoulders, "I work out twice a day, before and after my shift. Sure it helps keep the town safe, but I also just like the citizens of this town to see me as the hot, muscular cop of their dreams. I love their eyes on me when I pull them over or walk past on patrol. They're always intimidated, jealous, or turned on."

With this Danny looks around at the people around him, matching their stunned expressions. I'll admit that I'm a little surprised by how vulnerable my boyfriend is getting with this cop's inner thoughts. Maybe this is all how Steele actually feels, but I doubt the officer would want to share it with the world!

"Maybe we should slow down," I suggest.

"Do I need to get out my handcuffs, sir," the cop purrs, his tone sharpening as he steps closer, "I'm used to having a good girl waiting for me at home, but I want that to be you tonight. Men are a whole lot more capable than women afterall. I'll be late from the gym, but I'd like supper ready. Think you can handle that?" His big hands hold me squarely at the shoulders while he stares down in my eyes. For a second I'm lost in the proximity of his handsome face and statuesque muscles.

That's when I notice the ring.

"Jesus, Danny!" I chastise.

"It's Officer Steele!"

"No! Jump out! You hopped into a married man!" Honestly, part of me is relieved to find something wrong. Officer Hadley was starting to freak me out, and now that I know he's married to a woman, his sexist comments are starting to make a lot more sense.

"Oh, come on," the cop rolls his eyes, "She doesn't have to know. You're my boyfriend, anyway! You won't find a hotter guy than me!"

I put my foot down and give Steele a look, appealing to the Danny I know is somewhere inside him. Like I'd hoped, he relents and let's out one more sigh of frustration. Then the cop's meticulously trained body shivers and his eyes lose their intense focus. In seconds, Danny's spirit slips out of the cocky cop.

"Woah!" Officer Steele gasps, "Why did I do that?" He looks just as confused as Gordon did, frantically trying to button up his shirt and lose the attention of everyone in the cafe.

"Beats me," I play dumb, "Hope your wife doesn't hear about this."

"No!" the cop stomps over, "That wasn't what happened. I wasn't...coming on to you or anything. I'm not even into men!"

"Seemed like you were..." I press.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I'm going home to my wife tonight. You are not..." Steele glances around warily before whispering, "...my boyfriend. Got it!"

"Of course, Officer," I assure him, enjoying the rapid crumbling of his confident swagger.

The policeman lingers around the cafe to collect himself and straighten up his uniform. I can tell he'd like to say a few more words before leaving, but he thinks twice with the crowd of witnesses and strides off forcefully. I wonder if a guy like that would lash out if we weren't in such a public place. His poor wife better watch out tonight. I can't believe my Danny was inside a guy like that! The thought of his good-natured demeanor mixing with that man's entitlement and aggression makes me sick; not to mention his antiquated ideas about gender roles!

That's what's always so tricky about dating my boyfriend through a neverending series of hosts. Sure, I get to sleep with a rotation of the hottest characters I want, but the bad gets mixed in there too. I have to put up with his body's offensive ideas, mean comments, and weird behavior. I know I can't blame Danny for it, but while he's possessing those guys, those are his thoughts as much as they are theirs. It's just unsettling.

"Sorry about that," I hear behind me.

"You're in the waiter now?" I feign a smile, unable to hide how tired I've grown.

Now that the cafe is rid of the policeman and construction worker, the atmosphere of the place seems to go back to normal. People turn their attention back to the food on their plates or the screens on their phones.

"Can I get you another cup? It's on the house," the cafe server tries to lighten the mood.

"Danny, I'm just tired..." I admit, "Wait, what's the name now?"

"It's Josh," the waiter replies, "But I am sorry about being inside that cop. I just want tonight to be special you know. That's why I've been combing the town for the biggest, hottest guys to jump in. You deserve the best!"

"Josh...Danny, you don't need to give me the best. Sure it'd be fun to mess around with you inside Gordon or Officer Steele, but right now I want you to be in someone that makes me feel like it used to. I miss you, the real you."

"I guess I really did pick some bad ones today," the waiter chuckles, smiling with dimples in his cheeks, "I felt so manly and tough in Gordon; like I didn't give a shit about anyone except my man. In Steele I felt so cocky and sure of myself, and honestly a little too entitled to you. It's hard to realize if I'm in the wrong with each of these guys. In their heads, they all believe themselves to be right, and I can't help but think the same in the moment."

"I know," I sigh, frustrated by the influence these guys have over my ghost boyfriend, "How do you feel in Josh the waiter."

Danny perks up in the cafe worker's body. I have to admit that this guy's energy is infectious, and he's far from bad looking. His broad shoulders look perfect for hugging, and he smells faintly of coffee. I don't know how I never noticed him working here before. I must've been preoccupied, looking for ghosts, to miss a charming barista like Josh.

"I have to admit something," Danny says with Josh's sweet tone, "I've got a crush on you. Had it for awhile. You're the hot guy that always sits here during lunch."

"Well, I'd hope you have a crush on me. You are my boyfriend afterall," I snort.

"No, I, Josh, have a crush on you," he smiles.

"Oh," I'm at a loss for words. Somehow this feels like a whole new can of worms. I'm flattered, but unsure. Is it weird if I flirt with someone that has a crush on me while my boyfriend is inside them? They're both conscious right now, so it's genuine right? But am I really flirting with Josh as long as Danny is in there too. Does flirting with another guy while your boyfriend is possessing him count as cheating? I can't even keep track anymore.

I don't have time to think before Josh/Danny has rushed over and pulled me into his arms. It feels just as good as I imagined to be in the waiter's embrace, and it feels even better to kiss. This guy, this Josh, seems romantic, kind-hearted, and gleeful; he reminds me of what it was like when Danny was alive. Before I know it, my boyfriend/new crush is clocking out of work and leading me to his car, holding me close, and whispering in my ear, "Happy Halloween, babe."

I love the spooky season.

[darnell-la]

Heyo! Hope you are well :)

Could I request any version of Logan with a partner who always has bad rashes from shaving and he brings it up and she says how her last boyfriend made her shave and said it was gross otherwise and so she just assumes that’s right

note: our inboxes are open! give us anything, and maybe even make your request dramatic. we’d like a bit of bedazzle to our stories, just like this one.

———

“Hey, babe? Before you get in the shower, I wanted to talk to you,” Logan said in the softest voice he’s ever made. He didn’t know how to come off, thinking it would make her uncomfortable.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Y/n asked as she walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in the towel Logan had bought her. “You look good, Bub,” Logan said, making the young lady blush.

“What did you want?” Y/n asked again, not wanting to get into too much before she hopped in the shower. “Just wanted to talk — C’mere,” Logan pat a spot next to him.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Y/n asked as she sat down. Logan softly held her hand with an easy rub. “I know this is way out of my group, and I don’t know much about a woman’s private spots when it comes to that stuff but- Baby, you’ve been talking a lot about your rashes lately,”

Y/n was silent for a little, a little embarrassed about speaking about what her ex put her through for what felt like an eternity.

“Hey, babe- It’s fine, okay? If you’re going through something, just tell me so we can get you treated as fast as possible, alright? I heal, so I’m at no risk, but you are, so we need to,“

“Logan, Logan! Relax, it’s not that, okay?” Y/n cut Logan off, knowing he was overthinking. “It’s just razed bumps and all. Really bad ones because I shave almost every day for the past decade,”

“What?” Logan asked, confused about why she shaved almost daily, especially for so long. “Look, I wasn’t in a good relationship before you. H-He’d want it smooth any time of day, just in case he felt like doing it. Even just touching it to watch me squirm in public spaces,”

Now Logan was silent, having difficulty believing anyone could make his woman go through something like that.

“I-I just thought you wanted it smooth too, you know? He said that most men don’t want it hairy,” y/n felt disgusting, feeling like her ex was speaking through her.

“Baby — I’m just offended that you think I’m some little scummy boy. Who the fuck cares so much about a smooth cunt? Who the fuck is that bastard? I needa talk to that man-“

“No, no, relax, babe,” Y/n pulled Logan back down on the bed. “It was years ago,” y/n tried to make it seem like she wasn’t still traumatized. “Yet, you still do that shit — Baby, I’m hardy. I’ve never shaved around my cock for you, so what makes you think I have the right to tell you to shave?”

Y/n looked down and thought to herself. It wouldn’t make sense, but her ex would make it the worst deal if he felt one prick of hair.

“Bub, look at me,” Logan grabbed her chin softly, making her look up at him. “I’ve lived more lives than your sad excuse of an ex could ever live. He’s not a good man, and any man that has a mindset like that isn’t a good man,”

Y/n nodded her head as her eyes teared up, feeling a bit of relief, knowing she wouldn’t have to go through these rashes anymore. She can finally feel better about herself.

“C’mere,” Logan slowly laid y/n down on the bed and he kissed her neck. “My baby looks good no matter what. You think hair will scare me away from how good you taste?” Logan asked as he slowly moved down to her lower body. “Could be tangled down there, and I couldn’t care less,”

Logan pulled her towel off and softly spread her legs, already seeing how wet she was. “You haven’t even hoped in the shower, baby. How dirty if you,” Logan smirked as he leaned towards her heat, smelling the smell that always seemed perfect.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” y/n spoke low, still feeling a hint of anger in Logan. She knew Logan was a man who hated when people thought he couldn’t game anything.

Logan chuckled because he thought he was hiding his anger pretty well, but y/n seemed to always know when something was off about him.

“Oh, you will be, Bub,”

[jeansplaytoy]

random ony headcannons

sexual references, violence (?), fluff, ony.

he sassy asf 🙄 always got a attitude when you got a attitude. “girllll you not talking to me like that.” “miss girl you need to calm down” “is there a problem between us i needa handle?”

he loves plucking your forehead for no reason at all.

he def takes your lashes and/or makeup off when you come home from a night out or when you forget to take it off yourself.

you can’t tell me he don’t be playing in yo heels/dresses/wigs. 😭

he always be tryna slap box you but you don’t be wanting to do it because you always lose against him.

he named yo coochie ‘mini ma.’

he hypes tf outta you no matter what you do. if you eat a lot, he’ll record you and then brag about how much of a bad bitch you is for eating, or when you put on the dumbest clothes you could find for bed.

wears your bonnets over his durag at night because it ‘protects the waves more.’

he picks your boogers for you sometimes and then gets disgusted at them and tries to blame you for ‘making’ him pick them.

you can’t have food to yourself around him. normally it would be you taking his food but no. he will literally fight to get the food you have.

don’t ever tell him he can get a sip of your drink because when he ‘sips’, he’ll forget that it’s yours and drink it all.

he loves taking you out on date dates. yeah the club or a party is nice, but he likes taking you out to a restaurant and fancy shit like that. and fun dates when you go somewhere like skating or bowling.

he listens to every bit of drama in your life, like you’ll go on a full rant about how bitches got you fucked up and he’ll listen all night.

every time you and his mom bond (because she’s really a bad bitch) he’ll mess with both of you on purpose. “i know you telling her lies about me, matter fact, i know both of y’all lying on my name.”

he will have the full option to drive his own car somewhere, but no baby. he will drive YO shit around and make people think it’s you just to hop out at the gas station where his homeboys at and be like “yeah y’all thought that was my woman.”

he has a ‘gang banging’ persona, but he’s actually really romantic. he’ll fight, sometimes shoot, but he’s really nice (to you.)

when any girls try to flirt with him, especially in front of you, he’ll give her the dirtiest, and i mean the dirtiest mean mug. “get the fuck…”

sprays on one tinyyy little spritz of your perfume so that when he goes out, everyone’s knows he has a girlfriend. same with putting your colored hair ties or scrunchies on his keys or wrist.

he most definitely daps you up after sex. like he’ll beat them doonies ZEOWNNNN and then dap you up while you laid across the bed, tangles in sheets, lace lifting, legs tingling, etc etc.

he pops the pimples on your face, even when you tell him he’s not supposed to, he’ll beg you to let him pop at least one.

he know he lovesss him some matching holiday outfits or pjs😩.

[hai7ani]

PRINCESS TREATMENT haitani rindou

sfw

adult rindou is a lovesick fool + ran still peels rindou's prawns to this day

"What's better, vomit green or pee yellow?"

"'The hell's wrong with you?"

Rindou thinks you're stupid.

Not in a bad way of course -- he fucking adores it, especially when you're all sleepy and blabbering nonsense to him before bed in that stupidly cute face of yours. "Baby, have I ever told you that you look a bit like Chicken Little?" "Shut up. Go to sleep."

He says that with an annoyed expression and yet every time, Rindou will simply gaze into your eyes with a lovesick grin as you continue to sleepily mess with him in bed. A few swats to his chest when he sneaks a hand down the blanket to pinch your butt, a few giggles tumbling from your mouth when he attacks your neck with his lips because it tickles there . . .

And he'd air his whiny complaints out to Ran who is busy peeling prawns on the dinner table.

"I swear, why do all girls get zoomies when they're 'boutta fall asleep?" He rants to his brother with a scrunch of his nose and the older boy simply chuckles before placing down a nicely peeled prawn in Rindou's plate. "Does your girlfriend do that too? I gotta know, bro."

"You say that as if you don't like it. Love it, even." Ran licks off the sauce from his fingers with a look on his face. He stares at his brother, and stifles a laugh upon meeting eyes. ". . . And ya, she does." Rindou pokes into the prawn with his fork and brings it up to his mouth, before eventually choking on the meat from trying to hold back his own laugh.

Two unserious brothers.

And today, Rindou is holding your hand as you walk back home together after a dinner date out at a high-end restaurant in Aoyama. It is payday and he had immediately forwarded you a copy of his payslip when a notice from HR came through. "Eating nice today, baby." He'd smirked into the phone and you'd laughed loudly into the speaker. "Sure, sure. Whatever you want."

The crisp autumn wind blows past the two of you and dried leaves rustle around the walkway with some crunching beneath your shoes following the steps that you both take. You sway your hands together back and forth while kicking a pebble in your step.

"Answer it, baby. I needa know which kinda disgusting colour are you more into." You cling onto his arm and pout up at his blank expression.

Rindou pinches your thumb between his fingers while you giggle up at him, "do I seem like I got a fuckin' choice?" You shake your head, "you don't, no. So hurry up, answer it."

He clicks his tongue and moves to wrap a warm arm around your shoulders. "Lord have mercy. I'm stuck here with my annoying lady and she won't stop asking me weird n' stupid questions."

You ignore his whines and cries for help to the Lord and hug your arms around his frame tighter. You laugh into his shirt and a hand reaches up to caress at your hair. It's warm, it's comforting.

"Quickly, vomit green or pee yellow?"

"Dunno. You're stupid. Shut up. Go away."

You deadpan. He gives you a judgmental look that reminds you a bit of the silly The Rock meme that you always see on social medias before pulling you anymore closer to him.

You snort at it -- so much for telling you to go away.

"Fine. Have it this way then -- I'll massage your back tonight if you say pee yellow. Please."

It's an obvious bait -- it's deliberate.

". . . Pee yellow."

He willingly falls into it.

And Rindou flushes when you cackle and swat a hand at his back, "Jesus, Rin! Who's the stupid one now?" You point an accusing finger with a red face -- the aftermath of laughing so hard and he slaps it away with a faint pout. "Shaddap."

You approach a huge puddle of water on the ground and he hops over it in one big step. Rindou almost falls back when you don't let go of him, and instead, you remain where you are -- foot seemed to be mounted into the ground -- and you tug back on his hand. Hard.

Where on Earth did you find the strength to do that? He's got no idea at all.

"Shit, baby, I almost fell-"

Your hands break off somewhere in the process of him trying to regain his balance and not fall into the puddle of water with you figuring out your best course of action, and you soon realise that he's on the other side of the puddle now. You feel oddly left out despite the look of patience plastered on his face as he beckons for you to come over to him.

"C'mere, baby."

You stop moving, choosing to stare down the puddle with an annoyed expression instead while scratching at your bun that's starting to agitate you.

Your orbs scan around the tight walkway and notice that there isn't any walkable areas for you, and certainly not for the expensive Louboutin's you are currently wearing that is paired with a slim body-hugging dress hanging off your shoulders. No clear ground except for the muddy grass on the side from the light rain earlier, and you grimace at the thought of getting your heels dirty.

Because Rindou had gotten these shoes for you just last week -- you can't be getting them dirty this early into your ownership. These shoes are your pride and joy -- your absolute love. No harm can ever be done to them.

Rindou raises a brow at where he stands on the other side, staring at your figure who is awfully quiet all of a sudden. He notices that you aren't really paying attention to him and takes it a hint to follow your gaze instead -- the big puddle, the tight walkway, the muddy grass, the way you're checking and tapping your heels on the ground repeatedly . . .

And he pieces it together.

"I can't cross." You mumble and look up at him, who is already silently crossing your heavy Michael Kors over his torso. He puffs and fixes his hair before swiftly hopping back to you in one big step.

You reach out to hold his hands, a habit you make when you're unsure of what to do, and Rindou simply pulls you by the waist, closer to him, to grab at your arms and he looms it over his shoulders. You blink up at him with wide eyes and a cheeky smile -- you seemed to have picked up on what he's about to do -- and he resists himself to smooch at your rosy lips for being so cute.

He'll save that for later.

"C'mon, princess."

Rindou hurls you into his arms in one swift motion like an actual princess -- one arm supporting your back and the other tucked under your knees -- and you immediately smile widely into his neck, burying your face there as you shy and melt deep into his body. You hear wet footsteps sound through the area and can't help but finally let the giddy laugh escape your lips.

Rindou steps through the puddle while carrying your body in his arms with the heavy bag of yours slung over his torso that he's repeatedly tutted at the entire evening. "What the hell do you even put in there? It's always so heavy." "An umbrella, a recycled bag in case of emergency shopping, two packets of tissues, some pads, makeup, your stupid bulky power bank that you never use but still wants me to carry around-" "Enough."

You relish in the warmth radiating off his chest as you relax in his arms and thanking yourself for training a man like him.

You remind yourself to make it up to him tonight.

In what way? Guess he'll be finding it out tonight.

When Rindou finally makes it over to the other side, he moves to place you back down on your feet, but you cling closer to him at that and wrap your arms tighter around his neck.

"Noooo. Les' go home like this." You whine into his neck and he chuckles lightly, "I'll be all spent before we even get back home, baby."

Nonetheless, Rindou picks you back up and continues walking forward while you rest your head on his chest, listening to his frantic heartbeat and you giggle like a fool. "More the reason for you to look forward to tonight."

He smirks down at you in his arms upon your words, half-lidded eyes gazing straight into your mischievous ones. You bite your lip under his gaze and look away.

"Yeah? What should I be expecting?"

"Something like a really nice massage. Paired with a little extra thing."

You wiggle your eyebrows at it and Rindou leans his head down to bite at your cheek.

"I'll sure be looking forward to it, then."

Though the two of you are being rather . . . cheeky, right now, he can't help but have his heart swell at the current situation. It makes him feel all giddy on the inside and he silently prays the night hides it well enough that you don't notice the flaming red on his cheeks. (You always do, and you never point it out. It's so endearing to see him like this.)

You're giggling like a pretty baby in his arms as he carries you back home with wet footprints trailing behind and your heavy bag slung over his torso.

He smiles at it. You smile at him.

And Rindou will spend a lifetime carrying you home in wet shoes and sore arms if it means getting to see you so happy.

Happy with him.

reblogs are appreciated ≽ܫ≼

[lav-is-writing]

Hey first of all love ur writing!!

Ronin x reader who has anxiety about him getting caught? I feel like it’s a interesting concept and I wonder how he’d react to it

Don't Worry, Darlin'

warnings: reader is anxious, ronin's kinda being rude :| (dw he gets better <3)

paring: ronin x reader

wc: 556

a/n: hello anon :] i see that you've asked lots of other killerchat writers this (guess we follow the same talented people <3) and I just wanna say that this probably isn't going to be as good, but I hope you like it :3 also lets pretend reader lives near him because I don't know what kind of vehicle Ronin has O_o

(username): but what if they catch you?

(username): What if they find the messages on my end and they find who you are

(goreboy): it’s fine, darlin

(goreboy): relax

(goreboy): i haven’t gotten caught in all these years, why would that change?

You resisted the urge to remind him of, I don’t know, your existence? The way he spoke with such confidence, insisting that he would be fine, it made you both worried and proud. Ronin didn’t want to cause you worry, but a part of you suspected that he wouldn’t tell you even if he was arrested. Why would he? If you got roped in with him, it was to jail with both of you, neither to ever see the other again. If only Ronin was caught, you could visit. 

The thought did nothing to ease your anxiety.

(username):  i don’t want you to get caught because of me

(goreboy): im telling you, i’ll be fine

(goreboy): don’t doubt the devil

Ronin smirked from his side of the screen, amused by your concern. Why would he get caught? Out of everyone in the server, he was easily one of the best ones at covering up his tracks (It would be someone else if you asked literally any of them besides you). Leaning back in his chair, he watched as you frantically typed another message, then deleted it, then started to type again.

He knew your anxiety was bad, especially when it came to him, but he couldn’t help it. It was funny seeing you get all worked up, and at times, he would simply disappear for a while to see what you did. At first, you acted fine, but then Angel reported the frantic texts and calls she was receiving, each accompanied by tears and desperate whispers asking about Ronin.

Guilt would always start to gnaw at him after a bit. Seeing his favorite little writer so distressed made him a bit anxious too (not like he would ever admit it). He would hop back into the server, message a lazy “hey” and watch you explode. 

But this? 

This was something that him returning wouldn’t fix.

(goreboy): how about this

(goreboy): ill come by and stay with you for a bit

(goreboy): then you can see that ill be fine

You agreed, leaving Ronin to pack up what he needed. A toothbrush, some clothes, random shit like a notepad, whatever he thought would be useful. Exiting his house, Ronin walked to yours, ignoring anyone who tried to speak to him on the way there. Upon arriving, he threw open the door.

Papers strewn across the floor with messy scribbles all over them. Notes for your novel, most likely. You tended to grow a bit obsessed with it whenever you didn’t have many people to talk to, as you could put yourself in a world of your own creation. Dirty dishes had piled up in the kitchen, electing a sigh from Ronin. He would have to clean that up later. 

“Ronin!”

He heard your voice before he saw you, tumbling out of your room and trapping him in a hug. Tensing, it took him a moment to relax and hold you back. The scent of your shampoo filled his senses as he rested his head in your hair.

“‘M here, darlin’, you don’t needa worry anymore.”

[tgms]

fight! — togame jo

you only wanted to try throwing a real punch! too bad your overprotective boyfriend has other plans. (wc: 1k)

“make sure your thumb’snt in your fist,” togame explained from over your shoulder. “line your feet up with your shoulders and put one forward—like that. good girl.”

you stand in the middle of your room, arms up like you’re ready to fight, hands formed into fists (thumbs on the outside!). togame stands behind you, big hands resting on your waist as he guides you to a proper fighting stance.

you giggle at the praise, craning your head back to lock eyes with him. you purse your lips a little, and he sighs before ducking his head down and planting a quick kiss.

“you happy now? if you needa punch someone, stand like this and aim for his nose or kick his balls.”

“mhm. thanks for teaching me, y’re the best,” you grinned back at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “but how ‘bout that reverse arm breaker thing you did? said you’d show me how to do that.”

“maybe next time. no need to worry your pretty head over that,” togame said, ignoring your immediate pout and pressing his thumb into your bottom lip to smooth it out. “lemme take care of all the fighting for you, ‘kay?”

the pout on your face deepened, your body already starting to pull away from togame’s. his grip on your sides tightened slightly and he turned you to face him fully.

“next time, baby,” he sighed out. he could never win against you. “dinner first, then we’ll see.”

you brightened up considerably, arms reaching up to wind around his neck. you planted another kiss on his cheek, laughing slightly at the air he blew on your neck.

“dinner first!” you promised, eyes glistening. “can i pick?”

which is how he ended up here, in an alleyway after dinner with an empty wallet and a group of guys giving him the stink eye. and of course, you with your arm wrapped prettily around his. why you picked a hole-in-the-wall dingy izakaya in the middle of the worst part of the city is beyond him.

“you know them?” you asked togame, eyes following the group of guys who were sneering at your boyfriend.

“had a little scuffle with ‘em last night. don’t worry ‘bout it,” he replied, sharp eyes directed to the supposed ringleader.

“were they weak?”

“very weak. made them eat shit.”

“can i try then?” you stopped midstep, looking up expectantly at togame.

“no,” he shot back quickly, almost cutting you off.

“you didn’t even let me finish!”

“i know what you’re gonna say, baby. and my answer’s no. no fighting for you.”

you stayed rooted in your spot, still a good three-quarters of the alleyway left before you reached the main street.

“if you let me punch one of them i’ll stop asking you to teach me,” you proposed.

“still no.”

“and i promise to stay away from any fights from now on. for real,” you threw in, tugging down on togame’s arm to get him to look at you. “and if i don’t have any cuts i’ll do anything you want.”

he turned his head slightly, eyes staring down into yours in a silent battle. you could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he weighed out the pros and cons of letting you do as you please.

pros: you’ll finally stop asking him to let you fight.

cons: you’re gonna fight.

after a couple more seconds of silence, togame threw his head back and groaned, one hand moving down to snake around your waist and the other coming up to toussle his hair.

“fine. you know i can never say no to you. i don’t wanna hear another word about fighting after this, got it?

you squealed in excitement, hopping up on your tip-toes to plant a smooch right next to his mouth.

“you missed,” he grumbled under his breath, hands flexing against your hips. you hummed, missing his words in your excitement of your first ‘fight.’

“which one should i go for?”

“that one in the front,” togame leaned down, voice low. “apparently their leader but he’s weak as shit. don’t worry ‘bout the rest.”

you beamed up at him again, giving him another quick kiss before practically skipping over to the small group.

“remember, no cuts!” togame called out after you. you didn’t bother replying to him or acknowleding his words. he grinned a bit, at least you listened when he said to never look away from your opponents.

togame stood a few steps away, watching as you exchanged quiet words with the leader of the group and laughing inwardly at the confusion that continued to show on his face, panicked eyes switching from you to togame.

and suddenly a loud crunch echoed through the air and the guy was on his back, uncomfortably laying on bags of trash. a hand came up to cup his bleeding nose while the rest of his group stared in shock, jaws hanging open.

you happily walked back to togame, smile as bright as ever and pride evident in your eyes. you lifted up one of togame’s arms, settling it around yourself as you started walking toward the main street.

“i did good, didn’t i?” you asked, beaming up at togame. the arm around your shoulders shook as he laughed, deep and hearty as always, but with something a little more that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“so good, baby,” he grinned, pressing his lips to your temple. “you always listen so well.”

his words sent butterflies straight to your stomach, and you couldn’t help the way you squirmed a little in his grasp.

“and no cuts!” you proudly showed off your knuckles, skin just as smooth as before your little fight.

“wow. looks like i get a wish, then,” he grabbed your hand and brought it up for closer inspection, placing gentle kisses on your knuckles after he deemed your skin injury-free. “dinner on you for the next week? or maybe you should take out the ori’s trash tomorrow.”

“no wait, stop,” you said, panic filling your voice. “anything but the trash, jo. you can’t make me!”

he laughed again, that same something still lingering.

“well how about i show you just how good you were today and we’ll call it even?”

notes: i literally want him so bad wtf. talk to me if u enjoyed!

[morgluvsconnie]

BOUND, c.springer

chap.5 | drinking, mild sexual reference, basically just a build up for the next chapter! | chap.4

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

everyone yelled as mikasa took her hand from over your eyes. you smiled and put your hand on your heart. “yalllll, stoppp.” you bit your lip, looking at the decorations and bags of gifts.

“you finally growing up, that shit crazy.” eren wiped a fake tear and shook his head.

your eyes scanned the long table, which fit everyone in it. you were surprised that the rest of sasha’s friends came.

“my bitchhh!” sasha hopped up, hugging you and kissing your cheek. “you’re so pretty.” she poked your cheek, making you smile. you sat at the end of the table. “thank you, like, for real. is this a whole private room?” you looked around at the beautiful theme of the restaurant.

“my pockets hurt.” armin raised his eyebrow. you smiled and covered your face with your hands.

suddenly, a bunch of waiters came in, carrying a big, pretty cake, placing it in front of you. you clapped your hands out of excitement and stood up from your stool.

with your little birthday tiara on and your birthday ribbon, you clamped your hands together as everyone started to sing happy birthday to you, getting to the end where you could finally blow out your candles.

“now cut the cake.” connie smiled a little, passing you a knife.

you cut your cake, and everyone else a piece, sasha hopping back up to pass them out.

“i feel like a child again.” you smiled softly, sitting on your stool as the waiters placed the cake in the middle of the table.

“now she think she grown ‘cus she 102, okay.” eren slowly shook his head, being the first one halfway through his cake. you gave him a playful “shut up” look and started eating your cake.

“sasha slow down.” mikasa frowned. “anyway, y/nnn, what you wanna do today? everybody’s whole day is yours.” mikasa smiled at you. “nah, ‘cus i got some sneaky links i needa see.” ony said, raising his eyebrows, everybody giving him a death stare.

“chillll. i’m fuckin witchu. my day yours, best friend.” ony put his hands up in defense.

“ion really know, ion think about things like this when my birthday comes, only before it.” you laughed a little.

“so i’ll plan the whole day.” armin nodded.

“armin, if you plan the whole day, somebody gon end up dying.” eren mumbled, reaching in front of him to cut his self another piece of cake.

“ima plan it, that’s my friend.” ony waved eren and armin off.

“you just met y/n like two days ago.” connie scoffed at ony. ony frowned and squinted, lookingat connie. “and you met her like three days ago. that don’t make nothing better. now i said that’s my friend, ain’t that right y/n?” ony looked at you.

you laughed and nodded.

“y/n can plan the day, even if she don’t know what to do.” mikasa bucked at everybody.

“girl.” eren slowly shook his head, making everyone laugh.

“who’s a gentleman?” you looked up.

“me.” all the guys looked at you.

~

“man, ian even mean to say me, i was tryna say i needed some more meat.” ony groaned, carrying all the shopping bags for you. connie looked at ony. “we ain’t even have no damn meat.” connie said, also carrying bags.

“can y’all not complain for like… three seconds?” mikasa squinted at the boys behind the three of you. “it’s y/n’s birthday. everyone should be happy to give her what she wants.”

“i’m goin broke.” armin muttered, slowly shaking his head.

“when ain’t you broke?” eren looked at armin. “you bein funny?” armin raised his eyebrows. eren smacked his lips. “remember what happened last time we fought.”

“that was in sixth grade.”

“okay, everything goes in connie’s car because hes dropping it off later on tonight, and then we can split up and get ready to go out.” sasha said as you and mikasa both headed towards her car.

you and mikasa closed the doors, sasha starting her car, not even thinking to wait on them. “okay so we’re going to your house to get ready.” she pointed to you. mikasa sat in the back, stretched across the seat.

“whys it always my house?”

“because your house is like… the hangout spot.” mikasa laughed a little. “oh yeah, what’re you wearing tonight?” she leaned up to look at you.

“some revealing ass outfit sasha picked out, i don’t know.” you shrugged. “it’s literally cute, okay it shows a buncha ass, and? you have plenty to show off.” sasha waved you off.

“well what color is it?” mikasa asked, scrolling on her phone. sasha thought about it for a few seconds “white.”

mikasa nodded. “so me and sasha can wear white and black and you can wear white and pink ‘cus you’re the birthday girl.” mikasa poked your cheek, making you smile. “yeah, i’ll just wear pink heels, pink accessories, and my birthday ribbon, that’s everything pink. my nails are already done, toes…” as you were naming things you glanced back to see mikasa with her hand over her heart.

“you’re growing up so fast, it makes me sad.” she poked her bottom lip out. you laughed and shook your head. “it’s nothing for real. just one more year of bein sexy.” you flipped your hair in a playful way, making sasha and mikasa laugh.

the ride wasn’t long to get to your house. considering how long you were at the mall, it was already dimming outside when you made it home. and considering how long it was gonna take you to get ready, all three of you specifically, it was gonna be late by the time you went out.

“alright, come on.” sasha turned off her car, everyone getting out and going towards your house. you unlocked the door and let them in, everyone going upstairs.

“okay, so i’m gonna go through your clothes and my clothes.” mikasa said as she got in your room. since her and sasha weren’t even guests anymore, they already had a bunch of clothes at your house. and a bunch means a bunch.

“i’m gonna take a quick shower.” sasha got towels out of your bathroom closet. “with the door open.” she finished, turning on your shower.

you grabbed your jumpsuit and looked at it. “this looks really small.”

“it’s supposed to be, most likely. gotta hug that body.” mikasa said, sitting on your closet floor and going through the bag of things she had.

“this or this?” she held up two different white dresses. you pursed your lips together and hummed. “they’ll both look good so… it really don’t matter.” you raised your eyebrows with a shrug. mikasa rolled her eyes at your answer. “i’m asking you thoughhh.” she said, looking at the dresses.

“that one then.” you said, not even looking at the dresses. “perfect, i knew i should pick this one.” mikasa hopped up.

after a few minutes of mikasa retouching her makeup, she finally walked back over towards where her clothes were, you gluing your lashes back the way they were.

“yall done?” sasha yelled from the shower, cutting it off.

“girl we barely started.” you mumbled, taking off your dress and walking to your night stand to find your favorite perfume. “you’re literally naked.” sasha mumbled, putting a towel over herself. “i have a bra and panties on sasha, you’re naked.” you said, tossing your perfume on the bed and grabbing the jump suit.

“what if i wear a thong with this?” you held it up for a few seconds before sticking your legs through it and pulling it up.

mikasa put on her dress and looked in your body mirror. “lucky for whoever you lay tonight.” she said. you went in the bathroom where sasha was putting her body suit on, looking in the mirror.

“i hope nobody.” you said, turning around in the mirror. “this is cuteeee.” you smiled before sitting your leg on top of the toilet, tying the strings on the back.

sasha helped with the string on your back and nodded. “really cute.” she said, zipping up the front of her outfit, walking to your room to find her black heels.

“i have to curl my hair, hold up.” sasha said.

you and mikasa groaned. “were gonna be forever.” mikasa mumbled.

and yeah, you were forever. but the drive was only about five minutes from your house. everyone sprayed on more perfume before getting out of the car. “this things gonna give me a wedgie.” you mumbled, making sasha and mikasa chuckle. “you’ll be fine.” mikasa said, showing all three of your IDs and walking in the club.

you smiled as the atmosphere filled your eyes and ears.

“it’s my best friends birthday, you see this?” sasha said to a random guy, pointing at your pink ribbon.

mikasa led you and her through the crowd, finding the spot everyone would normally be. to your surprise, it was empty, only eren and armin rolling up blunts. “damn where everybody at?” mikasa frowned.

“ony talkin to some girl and connie prolly doin the same.” eren said, dabbing the blunt with his tongue while looking at mikasa. “i said where.” mikasa furrowed her eyebrows.

“armin, talk to her ‘cus if i do…” eren shook his head.

“they went over there last time i saw.” armin pointed to a direction, you looking that way. “i’ll find em.” sasha said, walking towards where armin was pointing. “i’m finna get a drink, i’ll be back.” you turned to walk towards the bar, standing instead of sitting in a stool like you’d normally do.

“can i get two shots?” you crossed your arms on the counter. “straight up?” the bartender laughed a little. “what shot?”

“your choice.” you mumbled.

“birthday girl.” you heard someone say from beside you. you glanced over, double taking as you saw connie. “connie, sasha’s lookin for you.” you smiled a little as your shots were brought to you.

connie grabbed one and drunk it, putting the cup down. you smacked your lips and squinted. “i was gon drink that, thank you.” you softly moved him away from you to take the second one.

“ion care. you look good tonight.” connie mumbled, scanning your body before looking away and drinkin from his cup. you looked at him and tilted your head. “really?”

“what i gotta lie for?”

you looked at him for a few seconds before scoffing and calling the bartender back over. “can i have four more? two for each.” you then looked at connie.

“sure. who’s paying?” the bartender leaned on the counter.

connie stared into your eyes for some seconds, his eyes flickering to your lips, just for a second as he reached in his pocket, pulling out some bills and passing them to the bartender.

you gave him a small smile.

“that’s one out of the three of yo presents, ight?” he rested his eyes on you. you raised your eyebrows. “what’s the other two?”

“still thinking.” he pursed his lips together and looked at the counter. “where ya boyfriend at?”

you frowned a little. “reiner?”

connie nodded, looking at the shots as the bartender sat them in front of you.

as you went to grab one, it tipped over on your hand. you groaned. “look what you made me do.” you muttered as you both grabbed a shot, taking them at the same time.

connie grabbed the last one, sipping half of it and then passing it to you. “i don’t drink after randoms.” you said, looking him up and down.

connie lazily blinked, grabbing your jaw and tilting your head back. “open yo mouth.”

as you mindlessly did as he said, he poured the rest of the shot in your mouth. “answer my question.” he put the glass back down as you swallowed. you rolled your eyes. “if your question made me waste my shot, what you think the answer is?” you narrowed your eyes.

“oh y’all ain’t together no more?”

“you know that. i told you that.”

“oh.” connie bit his lip and looked towards the crowd.

you didn’t know it, well, you felt it, you were starting to get drunk. and he was too, you could tell because that’s how he looked when he was high.

you didn’t even know you were staring, once again.

you also didn’t realize you hadn’t wiped that shot off your hand. you waved your hand, and grabbed a napkin, wiping everywhere it dripped.

when you were finished, connie grabbed your hand, looking at your nails. “cute.” he mumbled, rubbing your pink nails with his thumb.

you snatched your hand away with a soft laugh.

connie slightly frowned, grabbing your hand again.

you moved it away again, connie frowned even harder, grabbing your hand and forearm, looking at your wrist.

“the fuck?”

chap.6

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

FICMAS - DAY 11 - MAKING CHRISTMAS DINNER

Title: The Bird

Synopsis: You, Johnny, and Simon all make Christmas dinner together

Warnings: Uh.. none? Simon and Johnny argue, though!

AN: Writing in the morning is a fucking fever dream.

"Comin' up behind you," Simon's voice grumbles out, passing by you with the lovely carved turkey. Johnny's at the table, currently skinning potatoes to mash them, you're making some form of casserole.

"L.T., what're ye seasonin' the bird with?" Johnny calls from the other side of the kitchen, causing Simon to scoff.

"Salt, pepper, rosemary. You know I can cook, Johnny."

This is the first Christmas you, Johnny, and Simon will all be hosting in your new house. It's a little unnerving.

"Simon," you mumble out, shaking your head, "Behave."

Johnny smirks at you both, then looks back down, going back to skinning potatoes.

You keep stirring the vegetables, getting ready to put them in with the other items for the dish.

You look back to Johnny, who is now washing the potatoes one more time before putting them into a stock pot of water and letting them boil, salting the water.

He massages his temple, turning to Simon, "Sim'n I swear to god if ye don' get the bird on soon I'll serve you fer instead," he grumbles, as Simon glares him down and bends over, opening the oven and finally putting the turkey in the oven. He turns back to Johnny, an unamused expression on his face.

"It's in the oven, now what, *Johnny?*" He asks with a sneer, causing you to roll your eyes and turn your head back to look at them.

"Simmer down, Simon. You know he needs the oven, too," you chide, letting out a sigh.

"Wha'ever," Simon grumbles, stepping back and going to do whatever he needs.

You massage your temple, taking a deep breath and sighing it out. Then you walk off to get yourself busy, something has go help more than nothing.

It takes two hours before the dinner is ready, just in time for everyone to get there.

You set the table with Johnny, occasionally he grazes past you just to grab your ass. Simon gets the food on the table, his footsteps silent, his eyes brooding again.

It causes you pause, and you grab Simon's shoulder, turning him aside.

"Si? What's wrong?" You ask, concern on your features.

Simon scoffs, "Fine. Jus' needa momen'," he says shortly, walking off to the porch.

This is what really concerns you. You go to Johnny, wrapping an arm around his bicep, "John.." you mumble, "Simon's pissed..."

you both go out to find Simon smoking a cigarette, a hardened expression on his face.

Johnny comes up next to Simon and sits on the railing, and you lean against it on his other side, essentially blocking him in.

He huffs out a plume of smoke, "Yes?" He grumbles out, clearly unhappy about the position he's in.

"What's wrong, Si?" You ask, hand reaching to his shoulder.

"Nothin'," he mumbles, glaring at the sky, brooding.

"Lyin's a sin," Johnny smirks, making Simon scoffs.

"Suddenly we're Saints," he says bitterly, glaring up at Johnny.

Johnny sighs, smirk falling off his face, "I came 'ere t'tell you I'm sorry, LT," he says bluntly, crossing his arms.

Simon sits up, and Johnny continues, "I shouldn't'd acted like a cunt li' 'at. I' was wrong. I'm sorry."

This makes Simon stop brooding and make and look up at Johnny, that anger in his eyes dissipating.

"And I'm sorry if it seemed like I didn't care," you add on, your thumb rubbing circles on his shoulder.

He massages his temple, putting his cigarette out in his ashtray and looking at you both.

"It's fine," he mumbles out, making Johnny scoff and hop of the railing to go infront of Simon.

He crosses his arms again, "Is it fine, though? Ye seem.. tense."

Simon huffs, "No' tense. Just stressed. Everyone we know is in our home."

You look sympathetic, Johnny moving and hugging Simon. You go to his head, kissing his forehead and stroking his hair.

"We got this.. it's okay.." you say to him softly, "We'll go, serve everyone dinner, eat whatever John and his wife brought for dessert... then we'll go to bed. It's okay, Si."

Simon scoffs, holding onto Johnny, "'M a bloody sniper. I shouldn' feel this much fea' over nothin'."

You hold one of his hands, "Fear is normal. It's a lot of people," you respond gently.

"C'mon, LT, let's all go'n an' get dinne' goin'," Johnny says, pulling back. Simon takes a deep breath, and nods.

You, and Simon, and Johnny all walk back in, and get dinner on.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

Mdni

Thinking about being Kafka's needy, horny little wife.

He surprises you when he comes home for lunch one day. You don't have anything prepared for him A) because he didn't tell you and though you could sling some food together for him really quick, B), because you're too busy in your bedroom running a very precise vibrator over your clit.

You're too busy thinking about how yummy he looked this morning. Too busy listening to your most recent favorite song to hear him unlock and come in the front door.

Your eyes are closed, and your legs are wide open, back flat against the bed. Small, breathy and whiny moans escape your lonely lips. God what you wouldn't give to have Kafka stuff you full of his cock right now.

He said your name, but it was drowned out by the music being up so loud. And rather than continuing to holler for you, he just headed down the hallway to the bedroom.

What he saw when he looked around the doorframe was truly a thing of beauty: Your swollen cunt was pulsing again and again as you pulled away just in time to deny yourself another orgasm.

But you didn't know he was there. You didn't hear anything but the melodic serenade of the song you'd put on repeat.

Once you were sure you could keep going, you lifted your head to see where the vibrator landed on the bed. Instead of seeing that, you caught an eye full of Kafka just standing there. Smirking at you.

"So's this what you do all day when I'm keeping the country safe?" He laughed and ducked down when you threw your toy at him. "Hey! Hey ... I come in peace. I can't say the same thing for you, though. Goodness, kitten. You miss me that much, mm?" He said, his voice dropped to a low tone that would've been almost scary if it wasn't so sexy.

He sauntered over to you in his officer's uniform, undoing his pants when he reached the bed.

You hopped right up and got on your knees on the floor, pushing him back onto the bed, pulling his pants down around his ankles, essentially trapping him there.

Of course, he could've gotten away if he wanted to. But he's never said no to your mouth being wrapped snugly around his dick.

You went right to work, bobbing your head up and down the full length of his cock, moaning against him every time you felt the tip hit the back of your throat.

"Fuh- oh - oh my god, kitten. What the hell's gotten into you to- fuck! Today?"

You looked up at him as your hand stroked what wasn't between your lips, coming off of him with a pop, you said, "I juh- fuck," you wiped the wet mess off of your chin with the back of your hand and continued, "I just want you, Kaf, so fucking bad today, want you so bad."

You turned your attention back to sucking him off, fully enjoying the reactions you were getting from him.

His abs and thighs began to tense up, his cock throbbing against your hot tongue. "Hmm ... kit- kitten, gonna - oh fuck, gonna cum f'ya keep that up ... hoh my god, baby ... please ... please please please doh-hon't stop. Don't ever stop."

So, you didn't. You sped up your movements, pulling him right over the edge. "Cuh-cuh-fuckin' cumming! Oh shit, shit shit shit! Hoh god ... b-babe! Fuck!" It was an explosion in your mouth that you wholly consumed.

"C'mere, you." He pulled you up onto his lap and cupped his hands under your ass, squeezing you impossibly close. "I needa eat lunch before I head back. You wanna help me with that? Maybe gimme somethin' tuh eat, mm?"

You smiled against his kiss and got up off of his lap.

"Aht! Where you think y'goin', uh?" He said as he stood and scooped you up into his arms.

"G'na fix you some lunch ... right?"

"Mm-mm. Tag baby cakes. You're it. Now, get back t'how I found ya and get ready. 'M fuckin' starvin' t'day."

Fuck, you love this man.

_______________________

@witchy-scribblings @kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo

@delirious-donna @darkstarlight82 @bakubunny

@reiners-milkbiddies @supersecretsaga @trevengersprincess

@breathofthewind29

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