#what else are you supposed to call a tomato when it's a tomato

[guzhufuren]

You call me "girl"? Huaien said "Unbelievable" 😆

Li Le, Wang Yunkai and Fan Lanyue in BTS of Meet You At The Blossom

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ million dollar baby (gr63)

wolff!reader x george russell // fc: lani pliopa

Being the eldest daughter, you kept pretty much everything to yourself in favor of your siblings getting the limelight. When you start soft-launching your boyfriend after years of being quiet about who he is, everyone scrambles to find the truth.

warnings/notes: nothing really? i do have george win silverstone in this (i wrote it forever ago ok?) so just pretend he did. just pretend guys. pls.

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, alexalbon, and others...

ynwolff: hanging with the wolff pack (+ george) back home before our home race this weekend <3

tagged: georgerussell, susiewolff, mercedesamg

mercedesamg: refueling for a great weekend ahead !!

user: the photo of jack and george shut up

lilymhe: WHOOO??? FLOWERS??? HELLO??

⤷ ynwolff: shut up shut up ur gonna summon alex shh

⤷ alexalbon: BITCH WHAT?

logansargeant: @ ynwolff , alex and lily are literally losing it over this.

⤷ ynwolff: greaaaattt 🫠

user: is george driving in the second pic??

⤷ user: no bc who else would have a convertible mercedes if not george russell

georgerussell: i still think the trunk is unnesscessary

⤷ ynwolff: shut uP RUSSELL???

user: imagine being rich enough to have huge flower bouquets in the back of your mercedes... i could cry

susiewolff: oh, this is where all the flowers came from?

⤷ ynwolff: 😀 yes ! they are mine !

⤷ susiewolff: ur father has extra vases in the downstairs bathroom

⤷ ynwolff: thank uuu xx

liked by susiewolff, georgerussell, landonorris, and others...

ynwolff: silvastone day one baby !! (expect insane spam this weekend.)

tagged: susiewolff, mercedesamg

lewishamilton: i need the bono photo for... reasons...

⤷ ynwolff: im gonna start paying you for using my wolff charm to get blackmail

⤷ lewishamilton: i literally buy you so much food atp shut up

⤷ ynwolff: 🩵

mickschumacher: glad the gloves are getting use

user: oh to be yn

mercedesamg: those flowers are as beautiful as our favorite head communications officer 🩵

⤷ ynwolff: admin when i see u tomorrow i will kiss u on the lips

⤷ mercedesamg: toto told me to stop flirting with u :(

⤷ ynwolff: booo tomato tomato tomato

user: JACK AND THE CARRR SOBBSS

susiewolff: more flowers?

⤷ ynwolff: what if i said i just really like flowers ?

⤷ susiewolff: i would say your father is suspicious

⤷ ynwolff: when is he not though..

liked by susiewolff

ynwolff added to their story!

replies...

alexalbon: does george know mystery man??

⤷ ynwolff: he's sworn to secrecy, sorry !

lewishamilton: ah yes. the peak of subtly.

landonorris: aren't you both supposed to be sleeping?

⤷ ynwolff: says you, norris. ill tell jon on you >:)

⤷ landonorris: WOW.

susiewolff: your father says both of you need to sleep

⤷ ynwolff: why are you both awake 😭

⤷ susiewolff: you know toto has like a sixth sense for you, right? he heard you leave the room.

⤷ ynwolff: LMAO okay 👍🏻 we are coming back up

⤷ ynwolff: tell dad i beat george at pool

⤷ susiewolff: he says good job

liked by ynwolff

ynwolff has added to their story!

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant, alexalbon, and others...

ynwolff: what a quali!! p4 and p5!! so proud of my boys!

tagged: mercedesamg, roscoelovescoco, georgerussell, lewishamilton

danielricciardo: roscoe the mvp

user: jack in the chair omg

mercedesamg: a great day with great help from even the littlest wolffs!!

user: lewis in the shades og my GOD

user: another day another set of great george photos from yn

lewishamilton: did lowkey fear for my life with your father chasing me...

⤷ ynwolff: fair enough

susiewolff: a great day today :)!

logansargeant: what secrets his roscoe spill?

⤷ ynwolff: @ lewishamilton s secret to looking so good at his old age

⤷ lewishamilton: its called melanin and neither of you have it

georgerussell: thanks for all the love today yn 🩵

user: yn always takes really good photos and ten really fucking funny ones

⤷ user: shes the queen of duality

secretlifeofyn (private acc) has added to their story!

replies...

lando.jpg: shut the actual fuck up is this a date??

⤷ secretlifeofyn: remind me why i let you into this account again?

roscoesdad: fucking called it, tell george he owes me dinner

⤷ secretlifeofyn: have you ever noted the three of us always bet dinner? (george said he'd pay next time)

⤷ roscoesdad: yeah because food is the best currency, duh?

alobonoo: OH MY FUCKING GOD?

alobonoo: HELLO??

notalexsm: oh !!! oh my god !!! shut upp!!! this is george right?

⤷ secretlifeofyn: the watch gives it away, doesn't it?

⤷ notalexsm: yes (charles says congrats if this is a date!!)

⤷ secretlifeofyn: tell charles thank you <3

maxverstappen: if you need a hideout from your father after he finds this one out, we have an extra bedroom, the fee is babysitting p

⤷ secretlifeofyn: thanks max i will keep that in mind 🙏🏻

liked by alobonooo, lilgrit, lilyzneimer, and 154 others...

secretlifeofyn: everyone on this account is sworn to secrecy (because my father) but YES. WE ARE DATING. NOW SHUT UP !!!!

alobonoo: HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU GUYS HAVE A DEATH WISH

alobonoo: called this like two years ago tho i am the oracle

⤷ muninotlily: alex the oracle of georgeyn

⤷ secretlifeofyn: GEORGEYN??

lilgrit: the day toto realizes it's george you're dating, a health bar is gonna appear at the top of george's eyeline with the word 'toto' on top

⤷ ls2.priv: he stands no chance im afriad.

ls2.priv: rip george you would've loved the flintstones 💔

junior55: @ lando.jpg you owe me sushi for this

⤷ lando.jpg: @ mrsaturday how could u do this to me?

lilyzneimer: awee!!! congrats guys!!

mrsaturday: we posted this so you guys would STOP and you got WORSE

muninotlily: alex is pacing help me

⤷ lando.jpg: LOLLL HE LOST SO MANY BETS 😭

⤷ secretlifeofyn: what bets did you guys place im scared

⤷ lando.jpg: we bet george couldn't pull you

⤷ mrsaturday: i have won so much money

⤷ secretlifeofyn: if you buy me more flowers my dad is going to actually be concerned.

maxverstappen: the extra bedroom offer still stands

⤷ secretlifeofyn: thanks max we'll need it

liked by mercedesamg, susiewolff, georgerussell and others...

ynwolff: pre-race day silverstone !! <3 (not shown, the 1356 photos george took of himself when I asked him to hold my phone while i was in a meeting...)

tagged: mercedesamg, lewishamilton, georgerussell

mercedesamg: always having fun out here!!

georgerussell: i blessed your phone with my beauty

⤷ ynwolff: whatever u say georgie

⤷ user: georgie ??????

lewishamilton: the 1356 photos are funny though

landonorris: just a guy being a guy

user: the photo of george with the screen behind him feels like a meme format

user: george looks so squishy in the last picture

user: not yn getting the cutest photo of george ever??

susiewolff: your father swore that sweater wasnt going to be too much

⤷ ynwolff: not to expose him but he took it off in five minutes

⤷susiewolff: and now its missing

⤷ ynwolff: I BOUGHT HIM THAT >:(!!!

alexalbon: i demand blackmail material

⤷ ynwolff: buy me snacks and then we'll talk

liked by f1, mercedesamg, georgerussell, and more...

ynwolff: OBLIGATORY GEORGE POST !!! (approved by @ lewishamilton ok no one get mad ! i love my boys equally !)

george!! we were joking about this moment last night but you pulled it off!! i could not be more proud of the work you put in today, you pulled it off last second and made me gnaw my nails off a few times but thats okay.

so so so proud, you get a drink or two on me tonight ! 🩵

tagged: georgerussell, mercedesamg

georgerussell: IM SORRY ABOUT YOUR NAILS ILL PAY FOR NEW ONES !! 😭

⤷ georgerussell: your support does mean the world yn thank you 🩵

⤷ ynwolff: you deserve every bit of it! 🩵

lewishamilton: amazing work as always for both of you!

user: YAYYY GEORGE POST!!!

user: finally a george post to match the iconic lewis post

susiewolff: great work today @ georgerussell !

⤷ georgerussell: thank you susie :)!

mickschumacher: great job george!

user: GEORGE RUSSELL!!!!

user: god the pictures yn gets of george are... fucking AMAZING.

landonorris: mr saturday did it

alexalbon: yabadababoo

⤷ logansargeant: yabadadabadoo

⤷ georgerussell: you both suck :(

⤷ ynwolff: no!!! its cute!!!

⤷ ynwolff: no!! leave them alone :(!

⤷ user: i see that deleted comment yn. ur not slick.

liked by 9823 others...

liked by mrsaturday, alobonoo, muninotlily, and more...

secretlifeofyn: i dont remember any of these photos after the first one. how much did i drink.

roscoesdad: enough for your father to think you DIED until i told him you and george were in my room and fell asleep (you are welcome. i expect free food for a month for this selfless act.)

⤷ secretlifeofyn: i will buy you literally anything lewis oh my fucking god i owe you my LIFE

⤷ lilgrit: the question should be how much didn't you drink because holy shit

alobonoo: u drank literally everyone under the table slay

muninotlily: oh so u stayed with george ? 👀

⤷ secretlifeofyn: hes like a big pillow

⤷ mrsaturday: she's not letting me out of bed :(

maxverstappen: hate to be the bearer of bad news but twitter did catch you ! have fun!

⤷ secretlifeofyn: MAX WHAT?

⤷ mrsaturday: MAX??

lando.jpg: LOL GOOD LUCK GUYS

liked by alexalbon, landonorris, susiewolff, and others...

ynwolff: good news! george and i are dating and my dad did NOT kill him when he found out! bad news! i now have to share my location.

tagged: georgerussell

susiewolff: i think continually sneaking out and then not answering your phone for almost fifteen hours is enough reason to track you

⤷ ynwolff: susie plsssss 🩵 convince him to get rid of it?

⤷ mercedesamg: toto says thats not happening anytime soon. and to tell george curfew is ten.

⤷ ynwolff: I DONT LIVE WITH HIM ANYMORE??

⤷ georgerussell: she's gonna be back by nine if she keeps biting my arm

⤷ ynwolff: stop putting it within biting range then, russell

⤷ georgerussell: you just walked across the room to bite me.

⤷ user: LMAAOOOO YN UR SO REAL FOR THIS

user: "you'd rather i didnt" YN PLSSSS

georgerussell: remind me to never try to sneak around your father again

⤷ alexalbon: buying like nine bouquets of flowers in two days is not exactly sneaking

⤷ georgerussell: she likes flowers and i was excited :(

user: kiss ya in 11! im gonna go lay on a highway in 12!

user: i too, would fall for yn when she threatened me

landonorris: my favorite new grid couple

⤷ georgerussell: we have been dating for like two years??

⤷ landonorris: WHAT?

⤷ alexalbon: HUH??

⤷ oscarpiastri: oh?

⤷ danielricciardo: well god damn

⤷ lewishamilton: how in the hell did we just now find out?

⤷ ynwolff: LMAOOO two years next week <3

⤷ susiewolff: yn you are going to give your father a heart attack

[charliemwrites]

Men At Work - Part 3

I know this has been a little slow to start, but things should progress a little more quickly from here. I wanted to establish some of the groundwork for this weird dynamic they all have but unfortunately, these men don't know the meaning of slow, even in my own head.

No Content Warnings

“How are the repairs going?” you ask.

It’s just Nikto today, returning your Tupperware from dinner the other night. He’s covered head to toe once again, all that’s visible are those glass blue eyes. One way mirrors - hiding everything beneath the surface.

They remind you of… something. 

Hmm. When you figure it out, they’re sure to make an appearance in your next novel.

“On track,” he answers in that sharp, staccato way you’re learning is just his way.

Unfortunately for him, that just makes you more curious. You know it’s a bit obnoxious - you’re not entitled to information, you know that. And most of the time you curb the inquiries tapping at the back of your teeth. But he’s in your house, snuggling your traumatized cat. If he’s got a problem answering casual questions, you’re certain he’ll have no problem letting you know.

“You’re redoing the whole thing?”

“Most of it. Foundation is good. The rest - дерьмо.”

You don’t know a lick of Russian, but you can guess.

“Good bones,” you hum in understanding. As if you know anything about construction. “That helps. When do you think it will be done?”

He shifts, sharp eyes flicking between your busy hands, the door, and Rasputin holding him lovingly hostage.

Little guy is currently perched on your shoulder, face buried against your collar in abject despair that his bestest friend hasn’t come to visit. Shithead is poaching (or attempting to, anyway) the sandwiches you’re assembling. So far, she’s only swishing her tail, biding her time. You’re keeping an eye on her.

“Two months. Three if any of us are called.”

You hum, reach for the tomatoes. It’s only because you’re looking at him that you notice the slightest twitch around his eyes. Beneath his mask, you’d bet he’s scrunching his nose.

“No?”

“I will eat.”

You leave the tomatoes off. Guy mews sadly, you tilt your head to press a kiss to his little ear.

“So, two or three months. Krueger said you’ll move in then.”

“Da.”

You top the sandwiches with a final slice of bread and turn to the oven. Spin back just in time to catch Shithead’s paw reaching for Krueger’s designated sandwich. Nikto eyes the plate of brownies in your free hand; you bite the corner of your mouth to keep from grinning.

“What about the yard?”

Nikto tilts his head. If he didn’t give the impression of a particularly large predator, you’d call it cute. As it is, even spiders and snakes endear themselves to you somehow.

“What about yard?”

“Any plans for it?” You sneak an extra brownie onto Nikto’s plate. Reward and apology for wrenching conversation out of him. “Grass? Trees? Flowers?”

He blinks. Just once. Some sort of intuition tells you that even that behavioral tic is a big social step for him.

“No.”

“Oh, uh… gravel then?”

“We mean no plans,” he corrects.

“Oh! Alright, I suppose that’s a long way off anyway. There’s still so much work to do on the inside.”

But it does get you thinking. What even goes into fixing a house? And how do they know all this stuff? The electric, the insulation, the… whatever else goes into a home. Is it just Weird Things they picked up from the military?

You stare contemplatively at the house’s exterior as you walk the plates across the street with Nikto. (Ras is riding on his shoulder and Guy refused to detach his claws from yours. You fear for the state of your home with Shithead left behind, but neither you nor Nikto had a spare hand to wrangle her with.)

Nikto practically kicks the door in, shouting for the others as he goes. Guy chooses that moment to start crying - uncanny sense for appearing pathetic as possible.

Konig must hear him halfway down the stairs, because the steady boot steps get faster after a moment.

“Oh, bubchen! Why are you sad? What has happened?” Konig coos, nearly running to your side.

Of course, now that he’s gotten what he wanted, Guy’s volume lowers. He makes a pleased little “mrow” and slinks off your shoulder and into Konig’s reaching hands. You’d call him a traitor but you’re a damn sucker for a big man with a cute animal. 

“You two are ridiculous,” you laugh, setting the plates on the counter.

It’s already been replaced since last you saw it. Black granite, very sleek. You like it. (Which of them installed it? Nikto? You usually catch glimpses of him on the ground floor.)

“He is a baby, Biene,” Konig protests, “he must be treated like one.”

“He’s already five!” You reply, like you don’t have a papoose for when your hands are too full to snuggle him.

“Did I stutter? I do not think so. This is a baby.”

You have to turn away to hide your laughter, pretending that taking the foil off the lunches requires your full attention.

Krueger steps up behind you while you’re not looking. The heat of him is what alerts you, the only reason you don’t jump when his rough voice comes by your head.

“Where is the Shithead.”

“Hello to you too, Krueger. How is your day?”

He grunts and reaches past you, trying to snatch up a brownie. Without a thought, you slap at his hand - balk at the sharp whack sound it makes. He jerks his hand back in shock.

“You deny me my dearest friend and you attack me in my own home.”

You spin on your heel, mouth already open. False start as you realize he’s even closer than you expected. The height difference doesn’t seem like much until you’re eye level with his neck. You untangle your tongue and ignore the smirk growing at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“This is barely a house, never mind a home,” you scoff.

He snorts - that smirk turns to a full blown grin. A little crazed. Unfortunately, that makes it more attractive. (And the bastard probably knows it too.)

“You insult me too, now.”

“Sure, but I brought you food.”

He flicks his eyes to the plate behind you and arches a brow.

“Bring me the little Sheisskerl and I will forgive you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Go get her yourself.”

What the hell did you just say? Inviting a man into your house unaccompanied?! You may not be a true crime writer, but you know better.

You still don’t take it back.

He locks eyes with you, gives the distinct impression that he knows exactly what you just thought and he’s amused by your obstinance.

“Fine.” He reaches past your hip. Smells like sweat and something that reminds you of heat. Solder? Certainly not anything you’re used to. “Behave, eh? Konig is easy to take advantage of.”

You snort and glance at Konig over his shoulder, who’s glaring now. (Somehow no less intimidating even with Guy nuzzling at his mask.)

As Krueger turns, he takes a big bite of brownie, humming appreciatively under his breath. You shake your head, then turn to Konig.

“If you want to steal one of his sandwiches, I’ll look the other way.”

Konig barks a short, sharp laugh of surprise. It startles you a bit, but not enough to wipe the grin from your face. You know he really means it when he sounds like that.

“How are the bathroom repairs going?” you ask.

“They are going well!” he answers. Then launches into an in-depth explanation of all the ongoing projects. Replacing walls, rewirings, outlet and light installations. What doesn’t go over your head is almost too fast to understand as his accent thickens with excitement. You nod along anyway, because you asked, and he’s stupidly endearing - big muscular man getting a bit squeaky while he rambles about pipes.

He barely even notices Guy’s little paw reaching until it’s shoved into his open mouth. He sputters as you burst into laughter, gently tucking Guy’s arm against his chest.

“Why would you do this?!” he asks, only to receive a slow blink in response.

“He’s saying you need to eat,” you giggle, nudging Konig’s plate.

“Oh, that’s right! Thank you for the lunch!”

Barely a couple bites in and you hear the door open again. Krueger stomps in with Shithead bundled in his arms, one hand under her bottom, the other around her tummy. She’s got her head tilted all the way back to chirp and chitter at him.

“Why are you carrying her like that?” you ask, choking back a giggle. 

“It is how she wishes to be carried.”

You blink at her - but sure as shit, she’s perfectly content being held like a child’s toy.

“Well good luck eating like that.”

“You won’t feed me?” he leers.

“I don’t want rabies if you bite me.”

His laughter is even harsher than Konig’s. You like it instantly.

All that’s left is to hear Nikto’s.

Agatha is outside when Nikto walks you back home.

(Krueger huffed that he had too much work to do for the day, but he would see you for dinner. While you were still blinking in shock at his self-invite, Konig transitioned Little Guy back into your arms. All the while grumbling at Krueger’s impatient German.)

She scowls as she notices your two-person parade. Nikto’s juggling Little Guy and Rasputin; you’ve got a firm grip on Shithead and the stack of dirty plates. You snort a bit just thinking of her paranoid comments about them being bad men. Sure, they might be in some ways, but it’s a hard sell when Ras is trying to lick at the edge of the mask around Nikto’s eyes.

“Afternoon, Agatha,” you call, just to be petty.

“When is your fiance coming by again?” she calls back. “Such a lovely young man.”

Your mirth dries up in an instant. “I broke up with my boyfriend four months ago. I thought I told you.”

You did. You know you did. Because she’s a nosy pain in the ass that was asking about your Easter plans with him (trying to invite you to church once again) when you told her that you left him. She’d even fussed about it at the time, saying that there’s hardly anything that can’t be healed with time and understanding.

(It was only your commitment to your own privacy that kept you from asking how much time it takes to smooth over someone cheating with your cousin.)

At your side, Nikto grunts. You glance sideways at him, wondering what he must think.

But his eyes are on Agatha. Even Rasputin has paused the grooming routine to narrow his one eye at her.

“Is this the one that looks in mailbox?” he asks, louder than you’ve ever heard.

Loud enough that she hears. And flushes redder than the poppies in your flowerboxes.

“That’s her husband, actually,” you answer. She sputters, and an incredibly immature bolt of satisfaction suffuses you.

He grunts again. Eyes her up and down. “Maybe we leave surprise for him next time, da?”

You press your lips together, but it does nothing to prevent you from grinning. He’s deadly serious, though, which somehow makes it even funnier to you.

“Maybe!” you reply in a tone that really means absolutely.

Nikto shuts the door on her face before Agath can get out a threat to call the police.

“You’ve got a petty streak,” you say, grinning at him.

He tilts his head. “You like.” He doesn’t even sound sure if it’s a question or a statement.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “I like it.”

He grunts and takes the plates from your hand. “We wash. You think about dinner and revenge. Da?”

You plop yourself onto a stool by the kitchen counter. “Da.”

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[mischievousmoony]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 ⟡ 𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜' 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; after training with james for a few weeks, people have started calling you his . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁1.3k

⟢ warnings/tags: coworker!james, coworker!marauders, slightly anxious!reader, not proofread

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: i hate seafood but i keep putting it on my fictional restaurants menu ? kept this one pretty simple so i could get it out there <3

"Crab cakes, go." James says, eyes darting up from the menu he's holding to look at you from across the rickety staff room table.

You don't miss a beat, describing the dish as you would to a customer, "The crab cakes are one of our most popular appetizers. They're pan seared and served with sofrito escabeche, a zesty blend of onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes—so I highly recommend them if you're looking for something tangy—and they have a to die for berbere aioli drizzle."

"Tell me more about the berbere aioli. What is that?" James questions, playing the part of a curious customer.

"The berbere aioli is a spicy-chili sauce that I'd say is just shy of medium in terms of spice level. It complements the crab cakes really well, but you could always order it on the side if you're not too sure about it."

"That's my girl," James praises, "You're a quick learner, you know that?"

"I don't know about that," you protest, looking down at your hands that lay politely folded on the table in front of you. You try to mentally will yourself not to blush at James' approval.

"It's barely over a week since you started and you know this thing like the back of your hand," James argues, gently tossing the menu down as he leans back in his chair, "And there's so little time to sit and study here."

You have a funny look on your face when you meet James' eyes again, eliciting a gasp from him.

"You've been studying the menu outside of work, haven't you?" he squints, speaking in an accusatory tone.

"Shouldn't I?" you ask, and the fact that it's a genuine question has James clutching his chest over his heart.

"No! You never think about work unless you're getting paid!"

"How else am I supposed to learn this whole menu in a timely manner?" you cross your arms defensively.

"Who said anything about a timely manner, Love. I was weeks out of training before I had the whole thing down."

"Yeah, well you're more..." you trail off, trying to find the words.

"More what?" James is quick to sound defensive.

You put your hands up as a sign of innocence, "Just laid back. You're a go with the flow kind of guy. As opposed to me, who's more-"

James interjects, "Stuck in your head," nodding along without a doubt that that's what you were going to say.

You look at James, a bit of surprise and alarm swirling around in the pit of your stomach. He was spot on, but how could he possibly be? He barely knows you, after all.

"What?" James seems to sense your confusion, "I've noticed the turmoil in those eyes of yours. You're doing it right now."

You look bashful, so James graciously changes the subject.

"Whatever, just promise me you won't ever think about this place when you're off the clock again!"

"Promise," you agree, despite his request being impossible.

For whatever reason, your mind seems to always be on work. Not even in a stressed, overthinking way like you'd expect from yourself. It seemed to be little random tidbits from work infiltrating your mind throughout your days. Like sometimes, you randomly think of a joke James said once. Or you see something funny and want to show it to him. Or you think about how nice James is when you mess something up.

Okay, maybe they're not so random after all.

"What're you thinking about?" James interrupts your thoughts.

Just as you're about to start stammering through an excuse, Mary pops her head into the room.

"There you guys are!" she says, "I just sat you guys. Table six."

"Thanks, Mary. We'll be right there." James responds.

"I had Peter bring them some waters because I couldn't find you guys for a while—oh, he's back today by the way, did you know?" Mary asks, but doesn't stick around for James to answer, "I have to get back. Table six, guys!" Her voice echoes the reminder as she's already disappeared from your sights.

James shakes his head at her, amused by the way she jumps from one thing to the next without taking a breath.

"Peter?" you question as you and James begin to stand from the table.

"Yeah, he does bussing and some food running, a helping hand for us servers, really. He was on vacation." James explains as you follow him out into the dining room.

Your eyes fall on table six, a table for two that beholds two kind looking older ladies.

"You think you can handle this?" James juts his chin in their direction.

"Yeah," you say confidently. You have already taken the lead on some tables while James supervised. So far, it's been going well. Your first table you had to ask James to help answer some questions—maybe that's why you wanted to learn the menu so quick, it made you feel sheepish—but after that one time, James hasn't had any notes.

"Alright, I'm gonna check on our other tables then."

"Wait," you gave yourself whiplash with the way you craned your neck swiftly to look at him, "You meant handle it alone?"

"Yeah," James looks down at you reassuringly, his eyes filled with warmth, "You can do it."

"Uhh-? No, what if I-"

"Get out of that pretty little head of yours," he interrupts, "You've got this."

The sincerity in his tone incited a bit of confidence in you.

"Okay, okay. Okay sure," your shaky voice became a little more steady with each word, and you started walking to the table.

"Wait!" James carefully takes hold of your wrist. The progress you had made in easing your nerves is out the window.

"You'll need this," James slides his server book out from his apron and held it out to you.

"Right," you say quietly, smiling as you took it from him.

His hand fell from your wrist as he bid you good luck. He watches you for a moment as you greet the table, a proud gleam in his eyes.

Marlene appears beside James, a tray of waters and soft drinks balancing on her palm, "Your girl's taking orders on her own now?"

"Just the one table for today," James replies.

Marlene hums approvingly and saunters off to deliver the drinks.

James registers her words only when she's already left, "Wait, my who now?" he asks the wall.

His furrowed brows relax as he decides he kind of likes the sound of it.

After checking on your other tables, getting refills and putting new food orders in, James notices a congregation of his coworkers at the host stand so he decides to join in.

"Who's that?" Peter asks, swinging a rag over his shoulder.

Lily follows Peter's gaze to you, who's delivering some bread and butter to table six.

"James' girl?" Lily questions, "She started last week, she's been doing pretty well so far I think."

"Any reason in particular we're calling her that?" James decides to ask on his approach, having heard that phrase twice in under ten minutes.

"Ah, well, she hardly talks to anyone else." Marlene drawls.

"Eh, she's just a bit skittish," James provides an excuse for you, "it's kind of cute."

Lily and Mary share a look.

James continues, "She'll get used to you guys soon enough, just be nice." He really only says the last part to Marlene.

"I am nice," she defends.

"Well, you're not mean," Mary offers and Marlene scowls at her.

James chuckles, and turns to Peter, "How 'ave you been, mate?"

Peter opens his mouth to share details of his vacation, but he's interrupted.

"What are you all doing up here?" Nate hisses, appearing suddenly as if out of thin air, "You know how bad it looks for nearly my entire staff to be slacking off in the front of the restaurant?"

Before anyone can disperse or defend themselves, Nate continues, "And you're supposed to be training, Potter. Where's your girl?"

"Me?" your choked voice rings from behind him.

Everyone peers over at you, standing there shellshocked and blushing with a pitcher of water in your hands.

[pomplalamoose]

mkay soooo what if when the rebellion was living on hoth u and (like late anh!luke or esb!luke both would be cute lwk) went to a more tropical planet w lots of beaches tghr whilst looking for more possible bases and of course you guys just happen to get stranded n day a few vacation days on the beach!

but since luke is from tatooine n there’s barely even water in the AIR he’s never seen in a girl—specifically you, in a bikini. and since you guys have been on hoth for a time he’s never even seen you in a t shirt. like you just “what’s wrong” n he’s as red as a tomato.

anyway what i’m trying to say is you two making out in the beach n then leads to beach sex please please please oh my god. and don’t hold back on the gross details

18+ !!!

cw: a little bit of pining, a little bit of fluff, eventual smut, like seriously, mdni!

• initially you think nothing of it when the unbearable heat forces you to remove your jacket

• too great is the relief of feeling the gentle breeze cool your sweaty skin that you fail to notice the way your exposed arms seem to impact Luke

• Luke who is trying his hardest to be respectful, who is giving his best not to stare

• Luke who fails spectacularly

• Luke who, upon you sensing his distress and turning around, turns beet red and wide eyed, looking away immediately

• "it's just a pair of arms", he tries to tell himself staring down at his feet in the sand

• this certainly is nothing he hasn't seen before

• Force, he intimatedly knows what a person looks like naked and you are nowhere even near that state, he needs to get it together!

• though no matter how plausible he makes it sound in his head, the reality is, in fact, a lot harder to deal with

• because it's not "just" a pair of arms

• it's yours and he can barely tear his gaze away

• he can't quite recall the moment in which he first let his thoughts wander and they settled on you, doesn't remember when it was that he first started wondering how you'd look under all that thick winter clothing necessary to survive on Hoth

• only, that he never got the chance to hold your hand in his without those damned gloves on

• that it was never a possibility to even touch your face

• that your body was nothing more than an illusion he made up for himself during his countless daydreams

• only, that he half-feared you'd simply disappear into a cloud of cold air without all those warm layers keeping you tightly wrapped together

• but now, sitting before him, is a picture he'd nearly didn't dare to hope ever laying his eyes upon

• there you are, in nothing but a T-shirt and pants, and so close, so real, he desperately wants to reach out his hands

• he longs to finally find out how you feel

• he wants to trace his fingers up and down your arms for no particular reason, wants to touch every single freckle and mole he can find

• is your skin as soft as it looks?

• is the fine hair he sees shimmering in the sunlight when you move a certain way?

• when you raise your arms to fix your windswept hair, so does the hem of your shirt, revealing a sliver of your mid-riff and Luke nearly explodes

• he's at a loss for words, completely helpless in light of your beauty

• there's nothing more except the need to latch on to you and never let go again

• of course, at this point, you would eventually come to realize your appearance's effect; Luke is not being what one would call subtle and the love-drunk look in his eyes is hard to miss

• "have you been to the water yet?" you ask gently, feeling a little shy at being gazed at so intently, hoping to focus his attention on something else

• it works

• Luke, absolutely clueless and very happy to follow you everywhere you want to go is concerned immediately

• "wait, wait...do you know how to swim?"

• of course you do and he's so relieved until he remembers he can't

• imagine his face when he eventually admits to it

• the slight crease between his eyebrows, his unhappy, nearly upset frown

• how is he supposed to keep up with you now?

• how is he supposed to keep you safe?

• imagine his smile returning like the sun rising in the morning when you assure him you don't mind

• you only want to dip in your feet, would he not like to join you?

• imagine his eager nod, the delight in his eyes at the foreign sensation when he's finally standing beside you

• imagine the giggle that escapes him at how the water draws back and returns swiftly with every gentle wave

• at how it washes around his feet, how it feels when he wriggles his toes in the wet sand

• imagine Luke's surprise, the light shock, when you splash him, the droplets suddenly raining down all over him

• then his delight, the childish excitement

• he wasn't aware this was something you, and he too, could do!

• before you know it he's chasing you down the beach trying to get back at you

• with his long legs and ability to move over sand much faster than you are, you don't stand much of a chance

• though of course this doesn't stop you from fighting back as soon as he gets to you and it's not long after that both of you are sopping wet

• imagine him laughing freely, something you don't think you've seen him do before

• your heart beats faster

-

• it's when you're both out of breath, staring each other down to gauge your next movements, that the mood, so playful before, switches

• you can't put your finger on when it happened, can't explain how, but the dynamic between you has changed

• like your little game helped Luke make up his mind, emboldened him even, his blushy look and adoringly shy eyes are no more

• instead you're faced with a determination that raises goosebumps all over your skin, as he slowly makes his way towards you, his strong thighs parting the water with every step

• you don't know where to look

• not when he's suddenly this close to you, so close you can smell the salt on his skin and the wind in his hair

• carefully, as if afraid to scare you away, he reaches out, starts to run the fingers of his right hand up and down your left forearm

• you let him

• his gentle touch makes you shudder and unbelievably so he moves even closer, drinking in your subtle reactions

• "Luke I-"

• your voice is breathy, a little unstable

• but when you turn your head aside in embarrassment, he's quick to reach for your chin

• for a moment it's quiet, words simply eluding you in the face of your confusion and desire

• it's Luke who finally speaks again, who voices aloud what you had been thinking about, secretly hoping for, all along

• "please, may I kiss you?"

• and then, nearly inaudible, with such longing that it makes your heart ache, "just this once?"

• and all you can give in return is a nod

• imagine the light in his eyes, brighter even than the most radiant of stars, as he cups your face in his large hands and touches his lips to yours

• imagine how he slowly, so very slowly, pulls back, clearly not wanting the moment to end already

• imagine the look in his eyes, a look that seems to silently plead for more

• and the relief when he finds the immediate answer in yours

• imagine the gasp that escapes you when he finally, unabashedly, dares to take initiative and pulls you flush against him with a jolt

• imagine the pure joy that arises at being kissed like this, with such fervor and enthusiasm it weakens your knees, for once silencing your mind

• imagine the deep sense of peace that comes with being held so closely in strong arms as if they never plan on letting you go again

• you feel safe

-

• the persistence and thoroughness with which Luke continues to explore your mouth surprises you

• he kisses like he's starving, like he can't get enough

• like he may never get the chance to taste you again

• like he's afraid you're going to stop him any moment now

• meanwhile nothing could be further from your mind and it is without hesitation that you follow his lead, that you let him place you down upon the warm sand as if on the softest, most luxurious bed made just for you

• quickly his lips are on yours again and it's not long before they start to wander, to explore your features and limbs as leisurely as his hands do

• mesmerized, like in a trance, Luke traces the lines of your body, peppers kisses to every inch of you he can reach, his excitement at the ability to draw soft sighs and moans from you palpable

• soon unintelligible pleas start to spill from your lips as your arousal heightens with every passing minute

• you're growing desperate, are aching for more, for his deft fingers between your thighs

• but despite Luke's hardened length pressing insistently against his wet pants and repeatedly brushing along your upper legs, he makes no move to fulfill your wish nor to sate his own desires

• not even when you experimentally roll your hips upwards in hopes of gaining at least a little bit of friction

• he's not done exploring yet

• his attention focuses on your chest instead and you have no other choice but to continue clenching around nothing as he tentatively licks and, at length, begins to suck your nipples into his mouth until you're ready to cry out in frustration

• covered in sweat, the sand has begun to cling to your skin, rubbing against you with even the smallest of your movements and you're not sure what to make of it

• you're overwhelmed, helplessly overstimulated, almost wishing for it to stop

• though when Luke presses his knee in between your legs, giving you the chance to grind against him, it's suddenly not enough

• it's not nearly enough and your impatience finally exceeding your shame, the urge to beg becomes too strong to withhold

• for his touch, his fingers

• his cock

• "please Luke. Please just- just fuck me already"

• this catches Luke off guard though he remains silent, takes time to observe your shaking legs, your flush, quivering skin, the quick rise and fall of your chest, your wet eyes

• it shakes him out of his revery, like your words only now led him back into the present moment, made him realize for how long he's been toying with you

• how painfully desperate he is to seek his own release

• truly, he has no intention of leaving you like this, on the brink of an orgasm and close to tears

• but he's stalling, he knows, holding back, unsure of how to proceed and afraid to hurt you

• what if you're not ready to take him yet?

• lost in thought his fingers move gently along the waistband of your underpants until they dip lower in wonder, his knuckles slowly grazing over the wet spot where your dripping arousal has soaked into the fabric

• he is the reason for this, the reason for your pleasure, he realizes

• and he wants you, has wanted you for a very long time

• having made up his mind he carefully pushes a finger deep inside of you, pleasantly surprised at how easy you allow him entrance

• "no", he breathes when you try to strip off your panties to better grant him access

• "I want you like this"

• Luke makes you cum several times before even considering to free his cock from its confines

• too deeply does he enjoy your cries and twitches growing in intensity to accept for pleasure of his own to distract from it

• too hypnotizing it is to watch his fingers disappear into you again and again until they're deeply coated and practically dripping with your arousal

• too satisfying are the obscene squelching sounds that arise, louder and louder the faster he drives into you

• if it were up to him he would continue like this forever, unbothered by his own urges, content to simply watch

• though as you grow tired he eventually takes mercy

• he fucks you until you're close to passing out with pleasure, your face held tightly between his hands

• until your back is sore with being rubbed over the sandy ground over and over and over again

• until there's sand everywhere, in places you don't even dare to think about right now, and your legs are quivering from how long you had to keep them this far apart

• until he is panting, ruthlessly chasing his orgasm with hard, fast thrusts that shake your entire body and cause your eyes to roll into the back of your head

• until tears are streaming down your face and not even the sounds of the crashing waves are able to drown out the wet slapping noises when his hips meet yours in a near frenzy as he buries himself balls-deep in your throbbing heat

A/N: I'm so excited I finally, FINALLY had the time to work on this request!! Really, I couldn't get it out of my head since you first sent it in and not being able to write it all down immediately was pure torture😩

Thank you for your patience! I hope you don't mind the way this turned out to be a little fluffier than anticipated, I just couldn't help it. I love my Luke being desperately head over heels for the reader <33

[yuuuhiii]

omg hi if you’re still doing matchups i wanted to request a jjk one please! mmm readers pretty soft spoken, and very quiet. def a listener rather than a talker. a little bit dry honestly and pretty much relies on others to keep the conversation going😭 what else let me think…mm idk really likes cats? pretty girly i suppose but doesn’t like being called out on it☝️ omg super shy and hesitant in relationships but craves attention anyways. i think that’s it, thank you!!

i match you with YUUJI ITADORI ᥫ᭡

Yuuji is infatuated.

For the umpteenth time he’s out with Nobara. And this time he’s silently thanking her for forcing him to come because he would have never seen you. You’re so gorgeous, he thinks. He’s moving before he can even think but he’s not against it.

“Hey.” He says and you tense.

He’s tall, big, and attractive. You smell a faint perfume on him, and he has big eyes that remind you of a puppy. You’re sure if he has a tail, it’d be wagging.

“Uh! This probably really weird. But you’re so beautiful I was wondering if I could get to know you.”

You’re taken aback by his words and boldness. You were going to politely decline yet those damn eyes and smile held you from doing so.

That was the first day Yuuji had talked to you and now you guys were dating.

It had taken quite sometime for Yuuji to get you comfortable and to open up around him. However he did accept that that’s also just how you were as a person.

You were a woman of few words and he had no problem with it. He’d love to ramble about anything and everything as you hummed and looked pretty.

Although when it came to you coming by a cat, he swears he’d die of cuteness overload. The way you just naturally attract them and the smile you adorn has him wanting to kiss your face off.

Cuteness aggression was definitely his thing.

Especially when you’d get shy over his compliments. The first time he kisses you and pulled away, he whispered against your lips.

“You’re so perfect.” He could feel the exact moment you turned red and he smiled big.

Every moment after that he’d call you pet names, never failing to let you know how beautiful you were inside and out. One thing Yuuji did notice about you though was how shy you were to initiate affection. He’s still not used to it, when you crave his attention and actually act on it.

Like the one time you knocked on his door, evening hours.

“Oh? Hi cutes.” He smiles and you flush. You don’t say anything but you hug him and he freezes. His arms quickly cage you in against him.

“You okay?” He asks, voice laced with concern.

You hum, “I just missed you.” He immediately smiles, kissing the crown of your head he pulls you in his room.

Or the time you were once again in his room as he played video games. The whole time he could feel your staring and he’d noticed the way you’d fidget with your hands. Eyes still on the tv, he speaks.

“Are you okay, pretty?” He sees you jump, eyes moving quickly.

You then stand up and as he’s about to tell you to kindly move but you kiss him. His controller falls to the floor, making you jump away.

“N-No!” He squeaks out, his eyes lidded and a pretty blush on his face.

“Kiss me again.” He says mindlessly and with the both of you red as a tomato, you do as he says.

You don’t have to use your words, you don’t have to lift your finger because Yuuji knows you. He knows what you like and what you hate. It’s easy for him to give you just what you want without you asking him.

In this case, cuddling. He scoop you in his arms, laying you against him as your breath would even against him.

Yuuji loves how reserved and soft you are, you ground him and keep him sane.

What would he do without you.

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 9

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

As you come in sight of your desk, you stutter step. Every day when Mr. Hansen gets in, rarely before yourself, he closes himself in his office. He never says good morning, never has a ‘hello’, usually only a tossed jacket and cold shoulder. Not today. 

You stare at Mr. Hansen as he leans against your desk with his arms crossed. His eye socket is purplish blue and a bit swollen. He winces as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Critter,” he greets. 

“Sir, I brought you a coffee,” you wiggle the cup free of the tray and hold it out. “How’s your eye?” 

“You don’t look very well-rested,” he ignores your question. “Figured you would since you left in such a hurry.” 

“Mr. Hansen--” 

“Save it,” he takes the cup and hold his fingers over the lid. “It’s cold.” 

He takes the lid off and turns. He plunks it down so it splashes on your desk and he reached to your monitor. He takes the little dancing kitten and rams it into the cup. “Go get me another.” 

You can’t help a whimper as you step up to grab your figurine. He keeps you from getting to it. You can already see the felt soaking through.

“Sir?” You whine, “why--” 

“I need a new coffee. Scurry off and get it, Critter.” 

Mr. Hansen is rarely nice. You might call him the meanest person you’ve ever met but he’s worse today. Is it his ex-wife or is it you? Is this because you would stick around past dark? And if you did and came in worn out or late, what then? It’s a game with no winning. 

You take a step back and set your chin, “yes, sir. Coffee, sir.” 

Your voice is willowy and hollow. He faces you, weighing you with a glare. You turn and stomp back to the door, dropping the cardboard tray in the blue bin on your way out. You have to get away from him before you scream. 

It’s not just that he ruined your kitty, it’s everything. You’re so confused by him. You don’t get why last night he acted the way he did and now he’s a bigger jackass than before. That's right. A jackass. 

You forge ahead without hesitation. This building is suffocating, the indifference of others is biting, and everything about your existence is grey. You hate it all. 

Your instinct guides you through the motions. They know you at a glance at Esther’s. They get your coffee ready and you pay with the company card. You leave and drive without urgency. 

Back at the office, you head up with dread heavy in your heels. You take a breath before you near Mr. Hansen’s door, a brief glimpse of your still coffee-submerged figure on the way. You stop and stare at his door. Your heart is racing. 

Your hand moves to the lid without thinking. You peel it off carefully and gather saliva on your tongue. You dip your head and quietly spit into the coffee. You put the lid back and stand straight. You can’t knock. You look down at the cup and sigh. You can’t give him it now. Why did you do that? 

Too late. The door opens and you flinch. Hansen swipes the cup from your hand, “about time. I’m not supposed to be waiting on you, critter, other way around.” Your mouth falls open but you can’t speak. You're helpless. Again. You hate that feeling. “No tomato red today? Too bad?” 

He eyes you up and down and you slump. He raises the cup and slurps through the slot. You bite down and watch him, cheek twitching. You don’t feel so bad anymore. 

“Sir, is there anything else I can get you?” You ask. 

“A smile, how about that, critter?” 

You furrow your brow. 

“Other way, sweetheart.” 

You wince. Sweetheart... you’re critter. A rodent. Not anything else. 

You smile, it’s brittle and painful. He winks and doffs his cup, “good girl.” 

He takes a step back and slams the door in your face. No thank you. Just humiliation. 

You huff and shake your head. You go to your desk and slip your purse underneath. You boot up your computer and twiddles your fingers on your thighs. You’re uneasy, you can’t settle in. 

You remove the felt kitty from the coffee cup. It’s soppy and stained. You dump both in the bin under your desk. It's ruined. There’s no saving it. Forget it. 

Hansen’s calendar is busy that day. He has golf at one. Good. He'll be out of office. You start on the inbox and your own bings. You usually let yours pile up. There’s never anything important. You catch the title before the notification disappears. 

You switch to your own account and open the new mail. It’s from logistics; a general account without a name. Your nerves stir as you read the offer for an interview. Tomorrow. Wow, that’s quick. Jensen came through. And whoever this G is that signed the single letter at the bottom. 

You hit reply and Hansen’s door opens, giving you a start. Your pulse picks up and you minimize your response. Mr. Hansen teethes the plastic lid of his cup as he tuts and approaches. 

“I need new golf gloves for this afternoon.” 

“Sir,” you grab your notebook and a pen, “I can go grab some--” 

“No, you’ll come with me,” he demands. “I got big hands. I can’t have you bringing me those one size fits all bullshit.” 

“Yes, sir,” you close the notebook. 

“Could use a new shirt too,” he says thoughtfully, “something that brings out my eyes.” 

You look up at him, “right now, sir?” 

“Right fucking now,” he checks his watch. “Christ, what’s gotten into you?” 

“Nothing, Mr. Hansen,” you click around your screen and lock the computer. “Let’s go.” 

You bend to grab your purse and hook it over your elbow as you stand. You feel him watching. You come around the desk and he meets you on the other side. 

“You know,” he blocks you with his arm, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you pissed off.” 

“Sir?” You step back. “I’m not--” 

“You’re not?” He challenges. 

“No, sir.” 

“Then lighten the fuck up,” he sneers and pinches your cheek. You can’t help but swat at him and he catches your hand. “Woah, woah, we getting frisky?” 

“No, Mr. Hansen,” you wisp as he squeezes your wrist, “you surprised me--” 

“Aw, crit, how long have you been here?” He lets go and taps your cheek mockingly, “keep up.” 

His sole scuffs as he turns and struts off. You trail behind him like the mouse he calls you. You sniff and watch him sip from the cup. It is kinda of funny. He has no idea what’s in it. It’s as much vindication as you’ll ever get but hopefully, you won’t have to deal with him for much longer. 

[vinestaffery]

Scythe X cop or detective reader where Scythe kidnaps reader to join her cult or somthing

of course!! im a bit tired atm and my schedule bursted up again, so the other people that have requested, i will be taking a bit of a while to post them fully, but i promise i am working on them!! sadly this is gonna have to be a drabble, im so sorry </3

Characters: Scythe, GN! Reader Prompt: One-sided Romance I think???, Small Drabble Warnings: Usage of (pet) names; Mentions of murder; Slightly descriptive but vague of how Scythe killed civilians; Religious themes; Kidnapping; Drugging; Scythe being a literal serial killer; Indoctrination(?)

Days were never suppose to be this harsh. You were always looking for new angles for the strange disappearances of many civilians in Lost Temple, yet it seemed like every new case was to mock your work.

Someone was watching you, for all you know.

Days were becoming longer, more dissociative then regular. Someone was watching you, you could feel it. It was like being played with like prey, if anything, a piece of meat in the claws of a carnivore.

But, it didn't let you shoot you down off your pedestals. You still, somehow, no matter what found a way to link to your suspects. White, gold and teal clothing, and the way the victims were left.

Cut, bloodied and garnished. Ripped apart in one slick-move, a slice. Head, shaven off of it's horns before being squashed like a tomato with a heel.

You were connecting up the dots to your very last suspect; Scythe.

You met her a few times, once at a bar, another when you had nearly gotten into some beef with some stragglers late at night. She was somewhat always there to support you, but would be never seen again. You took note of this.

When the investigation was left up to you, the police huddling outside for their break; the sun blared down below the alleyway. The shadows were your spectators, witnesses to a brutal massacre of several.

It was her. It was her, how she always disappeared, how everything seemed to become more of a blur. She was always there.

All she had to do, was find her, or catch her in the act.

"I'll get you, one way or another," you whispered to yourself.

"Well, you've bet to get on wit' it, don'tcha?"

A voice seemed to silence all thoughts. You didn't turn to face the new opponent.

You readied your hand-gun that was strapped to your left thigh, hand hovered cautiously over it.

"You and ya littl' ol' brain, finally come to make senses haven't cha? Fufufu..." Scythe laughed, a claw raised and a large weapon rested on her shoulder.

Your heart was thumping, you had no clue what had happened to the people that were here before; blood leaked across the floorboards.

"You must watch yourself, Snake, or else," you threatened, vile in your throat and hatred in your words.

"Or else what, my fine sheep, you goin' to do something?" Her name-calling was getting on your nerves. "The sheep, the one who follows, threatenin' big ol' me? Why, what a show."

"You best watch your tone, or else I'll get those men to take you away-" "And do what? Shoot me with this?" She plucked a gun from her pocket, you could hear it fall and chatter on the cold, hard ground. It rung in your ears.

"Say, maybe if you are ta hear me out, I'll leave ya' be!" Scythe snarled in a smirk, eyeing at you as you gave a small turn. Your hand still readied by your waist.

"And what must that be?" You questioned.

It took her seconds before she was up close, hand over your prepared one as she pulled you into a hold. Your hands, crunched in her soft leather glove while the other one, outstretched and squished by her metal.

"Scream, and everyone in this town's blood will be on your hands, rabbit," You were petrified but held in your sounds, clogged in your throat. You could just throw up.

She took notice, and started dragging you away. In a sorts of type of kidnapping, it was uncomfortable. She caressed your cheek, holding you close as she kept viable eye on you.

Everything started to become fuzzy, did she slip a drug into you by chance? No, she couldn't have. That's not her sense of style. But, everything and everywhere became unrecognizable.

"That's it, we're nearly there, my sweet," Scythe was astonished at how you were still able to walk, to even keep yourself up with her as you seemed to become tired and unable to respond.

Her scorpion tail came back close to her once more.

"Fucking- scorpion.." You pointed out, the tip of her stinger dripped a certain chemical before you fell into the warm-heated sand.

Light's blared into your face as you suddenly awoke. Your back was in pain, brain spinning and pleading to be free from it's coffin.

"Fuck-.. where?"

"Ah-ah ah! Don't want the doctors hard-work to be demolished shall we?" Scythe's voice rung through the room. It echoed in your ears.

"Where am I!" You screamed, but it seemed no use as she walked over. Her heels clicked to the solid, clear marble ground.

A hand reached over, two clawed fingers pinched at your chin and made her look up. God, she was tall, and quite beautiful, for a serial killer. "Wouldn't wanna wake up the others now, do we?" Her scorpion tail threatened as it reached in view.

Eyes widened, and a simple nod in command. She let go in a rough manner.

"Now, you best listen to me, or else you'll end up the same way those people ended up," Your ears wanted to close, but you made eye-contact with her.

She took it as an agreement.

"You've rose quite an interest in me, my sweet. I wouldn't think such people like ya' would be so heavily fascinated in my work of art," Work of art? What is she talking about? Those were never work of art. Those were polished crime-scenes of horror. Onslaughts.

"Now, I wouldn't want my favourite detective, my favourite sheep to be close to finding out about me now do I?" You shook your head.

"Good. Now, if you want to live and make it out of this room alive, you best follow my words," Alive?! "What do you mean 'make it out alive'? I have no deeds to share with you!" You spat.

"Oh, but you mustn't think of it that way. Think of it as a way of... saving you and mine's life. You see, I work for someone quite special deity," Special? Who could be anymore special then the SfOTH? The respected deities, gods if you will?

"There's no one as special as the SfOTH, those deities would crush someone as despicable as your boss."

That struck a nerve.

"You best keep that mouth shut, or else I will do more damage then what my boss would do to you and everyone in this god-for-saken town," Her weapon in hand, you squeaked. You stayed quiet once more.

"... Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I want you to join me, in order to protect you from the harms that might come your way for your... case," "Work with you?" "Yes."

You could nearly laugh! But you couldn't, you'd die.

"...Any benefits?"

"Oh, darling. Benefits were already arranged the first time we met," You snarled. Of course, she was planning this all along at the very start.

"Now, do we have a deal?"

Silence.

A long, period of silence.

"Well?"

You couldn't stop thinking about your family. Your friends, people you considered close.

"You best answer me, clock is ticking."

Your father, mother, what about your pets? What about, what about, what about?!

A slam of the chair, and a rising heat of pain strucking your face as you cried out.

"I've given you one chance at this, now you best answer me! Yes, or nay?" Scythe knelt down to face at you.

"One."

No Answer.

"Two."

No answer.

"THREE-"

"I ACCEPT! I will join your stupid- fucking team!"

...

"Good."

[chiharuhashibira]

hi besiee (Love ya stories) I was wondering if you could make a fluff/smut head cannons for Sanemi like the fluff one is about he period what he would do if the fem reader was on her period (LIKE ME OMGGG) and the smut is like uhhh... BRUH I JS HAD IT OMGG OMG OMG OMG got it the smut is like when the reader upsets Sanemi and you can do the rest I have nothing else anyways bye bye bestie! (if you don't wanna do it you don't have to ^-^ bye bestie!) PS - js call me Octavia it's my name-

Hi Octavia~ Thank you for this HC request!

Alsooo I am so happy that you love my stories 💓 Appreciate the love and support UwU

And with that, I'll try my best to make this HC fluffy and pinch a bit of lemon 🤭

Enjoy~

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒅

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Content Warnings: Upper part is SFW but don't scroll down past the NSFW Warning if you're a minor! MDNI!

🌸𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚🌸

❥ Whenever you're on your period, the days are quite overwhelming for Sanemi. At least before.

❥ When you first told him that you'd gotten your period, the man was like... "Are you really supposed to say this to me?" and blushed redder than a ripe tomato. Give the guy a break; you're his first girlfriend, so he didn't know how to react.

❥ But then he had figured out that giving you foot massages, cuddling with you, and at least lessening his grumpiness helped a lot.

❥ And so he does that, accompanied by lots of kisses and, yes, pampering. If you want food, he'll give you anything; he would even cook for you on those days.

❥ Whenever you have period cramps... (See 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑹𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆)

❥ The man is really sweet. Little did you know that he had a calendar marked whenever you're getting your period. And when you saw this, he told you that he just wanted to be extra sweet to you on those days, and he just wanted to prepare for it.

❥ But then, period is equal to no sex. And this could sometimes make Sanemi a little impatient.

❥ Yes, he won't force you to have sex with him, but that doesn't mean that he won't do anything to relieve himself.

❥ At night, when his sex drive is too high, he will often pull down his pants and jerk off beside you. But then, even if he is not trying to wake you up, you'll end up waking up from his little grunts and muffled moans.

❥ And whenever that happens, you'll try to "take care of him" as much as you can. Yes, taking care could mean you taking the initiative to pump his cock up and down, making the man buck his hips up in pleasure. One thing about Sanemi is that he hates his sword being touched by you, but he loves his cock being held by you. And so, that's what you usually do. Jerk your boyfriend off with an unpredicted rhythm that would eventually not just make him cum once on your hand, but mostly twice.

❥ Taking care could also mean boob job. You would often place Sanemi's hard shaft between your boobs, making sure to give a great blow job as you licked the cum on the tip as you rubbed it up and down. Yes, Sanemi loved the way you looked as you did that, kneeling in front of him with his cock between your boobs or inside your hot mouth.

❥ Those are the usual nights, but then, your period could also mean mood changes. When it reached Sanemi's peak and you upset him, he would often roll his eyes at you and leave you for a bit. But then you'll realise you made him feel bad, so what you'll do is mostly give him all the love.

❥ And love could mean you giving him intense blowjobs, with Sanemi tugging your hair or holding your head to make sure he can fuck your mouth deeper.

❥ To make it up to him, sometimes you'll end up swallowing all his cum, showing it on your tongue like a good girl before doing so. Sometimes, you'll also end up letting him give you a facial, making sure you retain eye contact as he ejaculates on your face and boobs, as the Wind Hashira loves that fearful and seductive look of yours.

❥ But yes, you're on your period, so after that intense "work up" and "making up" with Sanemi, he'll give you the best aftercare, cuddle with you after, and tell you how much he loves you before you both end up asleep.

"I love you, baby. You're the best thing in this world. I'm glad I have you."

𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓸𝓷𝓮!

I was thinking to do an intense scene (like the one in Saltburn if you already saw it), but I can't XD I just can't HAHA

Thank you so much for reading this HC!

As always, feel free to comment, reblog, and request!

Ja ne~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

[astroboots]

Past Lives

Author's note: Prequel to Every You Ever Me (but can be read as standalone).

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You meet Miguel O'Hara for the first time in a life-changing encounter.

Word count: 1.3k words

Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist 

You're standing on platform B at Main Street station, teeth chattering as you zip up your jacket. You're freezing your tits off.

This is why you don't like going all the way to Flushing. As bad as the stations get closer to the city, reeking of piss, body odor and stale vomit, at least it's always warm underground. Out here, there's no shelter, the tracks are exposed to elements.

It seems as if you are the only one stupid enough to come out here at 6 am on a Sunday, because there's barely anyone else here on the platform.

It's dreary and dark. The leftover snow has melted leaving only grey sludge and a slipping hazard behind.

From the corner of your eyes, you spot movement on the tracks.

You don't think much of it at first. Must be another oversized rodent feasting on discarded pizza, except... it's much too large for that, maybe a dog?

Your head whips back to get a closer look and the sight has your blood freezing to ice.

Is... Is that a man?

You stare at the bulky build crouched over on the tracks. Even as he's bent down, you can see that the man must be freakishly all.

"Sir?" You call out hesitantly.

He doesn't answer you. Doesn't pay you any attention at all. Is he drunk? He's dressed in dark blue spandex from head to toe, obscuring any facial features, wearing a sparkling Lucha Libre mask like he's on his way to WWE.

Yeah, definitely drunk then.

You glance up nervously at the departure board. The green LED light ominously reads: "4 Min".

If the man doesn't get off the tracks he's going to be pancaked by the oncoming train.

Walking up closer to the ledge, you shout across to him. "Hey! You need to get off the tracks."

He doesn't move out of the way.

Shit!

You don't understand. How did he get there. There wasn't anyone on there just a second ago. You would've heard if someone had jumped down from the platform. Where did he come from? Did he materialize out of thin air?

"There's an oncoming train," you try again. It doesn't make a lick of difference from the first time you shouted.

Why you think you can talk sense into a drunk who seemingly can't hear you (or is pretending to not hear you) is beyond you.

Glancing up at the board, you only have 3 minutes left now. It would be entirely too late to call for staff to help. By the time they'd show up the man would already be tomato paste across the tracks.

"Sir!" you shout again. But nothing.

Shit. shit shit shit.

He's not moving of his own accord. The only thing that could get him to budge would be to tackle him... which is absurd for you to do. You must be nearly half his size.

But what else are you supposed to do? Stand by and watch a man die?

You get queasy at the doctors when they draw blood for check ups. You cry when the dog dies in a horror movie. You would never be able to walk away from a man dying, only a few feet away from you. It would haunt you for the rest of your life.

In the corner of your eyes, 3 minutes turn to 2. Before you have the time to slow down your thoughts and properly think, you're already scooting down against the ledge and jumping down the track.

What the fuck are you doing. Why are you risking your life for a drunken stranger?

Your heart is hammering through your chest, beating its way up your throat. You feel queasy with adrenaline as you squeeze your eyes tightly shut.

In the total darkness behind your eyes, you leap forward, with your entire body weight as you slam into him.

There's an angry growl of surprise as you make contact. The man is built like a brick wall. It's like you ran up to a building and collided with hard concrete.

Both of you tumble across the tracks and in that split second that seems to last forever, there is a pandemonius roar that bellows out behind you. Wind whips past your side so hard that it's painful, and you think to yourself that maybe you didn't make it in time.

Except you did.

Because when you open your eyes, instead of eternal darkness all you see are scarlet red eyes, staring up at you with wide shock. You've never seen eyes like this before. They shine like rubies even in the dim dark.

Underneath the blue mask, the man is gorgeous. All sharp angles, and cut jaw with pouty lips that belongs to a Hollywood starlet-- Wait where's the mask?

You could've sworn that he was wearing a mask over his face before.

You don't get to contemplate on that thought for long. There's a flash of glaring light blinding you, the grinding screech of gears closing in.

Oh fuck.

The northbound train is arriving.

You need to get up. Need to climb over the ledge before it's here. You try to raise yourself up on your elbows, but the strength is zapped out of you. Rubble digs into your knees. Everything stings and burns.

The yellowed lights are too close, the screeching of metal is right in your ears.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh god! There isn't enough time. You're going to die.

A strong grip envelops your waist, hoisting you up. The ground below you disappears. You don't know how, but gravity seems to fall away, and you find yourself high up in the air as the sight of train tracks recedes.

You're flying.

Looking up, you see the man's face once again covered in the blue mask from before. He's holding onto you with one arm, while the other is stretched outwards into the empty air. There's web connecting his hand to the sky as he swings you through the landscape of Flushing beneath your feet.

From up here, even something as vast as New York looks small.

He lands the both of you on solid ground, on a nearby rooftop, arms still wrapped firmly around you as he sets you down on your toes and doesn't let go until the back of your heel is firmly planted.

You on the other hand, are still holding onto him tightly. Hands in a death grip into the muscle of his forearm.

Up close, he's staggeringly tall. The angle you have to crane your neck to look up at him feels unnatural, like you're observing a landmark monument, not just a person.

The mask disintegrates, the red and blue material disintegrating to reveals his face to you again.

You're too stupefied by the events that have taken place in the last few minutes to react appropriately

"Are you--" you start, but you don't know how else to finish that sentence. Is he what? What do you want to ask him after he flew up in the sky and saved you? Is he human? an alien? Do you ask him what just happened? Where he came from? Why the hell he was on the train tracks and didn't move! even though you told him to?

You blink up at him, running through each one of the questions and stupidly instead, you settle for the simplest one of all.

"Are you okay?"

He's smiling at you, an amused expression glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he answers.

Stretching out an arm above him, a string of web shoots out from the palm of his hand into the sky.

"See you around," he says. Then he swoops into the air and he’s gone. 

Author's notes: I got some questions a while back about how Miguel meets Nena, and this is part of that answer.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[agentoffangirling]

Season 1 of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is not bad. It really isn't. To both a longtime fan and a complete newcomer to the MCU, it would not be seen as a bad show if they just did more than surface research on it

If you look at the ratings on Rotten Tomatoes for the show overall, it has a 95%. 89% for s1. On IMDB, 7.5/10, with their lowest episode being only 7.1/10. Critics like it, audiences like it

So why is it that it is viewed so negatively by a large majority of Marvel fans? And to that I say: they never stuck around till the end of the season

See, when AoS was coming out, there was massive hype around it. Marketing would have you think that it was some type of Avengers crossover, with people like Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff showing up every other episode (but hey, this is Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Not Agents of T.H.O.R.)

This is what led to the massive turnout of 11 million viewers for that first episode, but when it turned out to be a show about S.H.I.E.L.D. featuring new people, like it always was supposed to be, people very quickly tuned out

(Even tho, hey, it's a SPY show and you only watched 1 EPISODE. Give it some time)

But most didn't give it time. They wanted to see Hawkeye and Fury and Maria go on adventures that would stand the test of time, fighting Loki and essentially just being mini Avengers, and when that didn't happen, they left. They wrote early reviews claiming that the show didn't meet expectations and wasn't worth the time. You get a very sharp dip from episode 1 bc marketing claimed this was an Avengers show, and people felt that it fell short

Those reviews are what Marvel fanboys use now, without ever watching the show themselves or pointing out that they're literally 11 years old. They bring the idea that the show is boring and lazy, putting aside the fact that basically everything else from it is called innovating and jaw-dropping. They praise the use of THEIR ideas in other Marvel shows, but call it plain in their home territory. They don't bother

So hey, if you're planning on watching Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., please ignore literally everything those fanboys say. They haven't watched the show, those early reviews couldn't stand watching past episode 2, just ignore them. Trust the fandom when we say that not only is season 1 perfectly fine, it's truly amazing fun, and so many of the plotlines they executed in that season are incredible

Because if we all stopped at season 1, there wouldn't be any shows

[alwaysonthemend]

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @mindastreamofcolours Please don't throw tomatoes at me I know this has taken FAR too long (I'm the worst I'm so sorry) But I hope the length is enough of an apology for the wait. If you see any typos... no you didn't

Also sorry if you got tagged twice. Tumblr was against me posting this apparently and I was ✨struggling✨ but I think I got it fixed now.

Warnings: Fem!reader, threesome (no slash) / unprotected sex / spitting / spanking / oral (m. and f. receiving) / hand jobs / masturbation / voyeurism / arguing / josh being josh / jake being a little shit / dom and sub jake / dom and sub reader / soft!dom josh / MINORS ABSOLUTELY DNI. 18+ ONLY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

Word Count: 7k+

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ✺ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It started years ago – this little… arrangement that the three of you have. And at this point, none of you can even really remember how it had started. But, you suppose, the why and how don’t really matter anymore. 

All that matters is them. 

All that matters is that your life had changed from the very minute you were hired as their makeup artist. Your life changed to revolve around them and their needs. 

And you love every second of it. 

The rules (though none of you have ever really stated them outright) have always been simple. 

One: Don’t talk about it with anyone else. No one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors and no one needs to concern themselves with something they won’t understand. This works for you three and involving others would only complicate things. 

Two: No jealousy. At least, no more than a little showing out here and there. They work together (and they love each other more than anything else in the world) and this cannot ever get in the way. No questions, no pissing contests, no anger, no holding it against each other. There are nights where you leave with Josh and there are nights where you leave with Jake. There’s nothing else to it. 

And finally, three: Never at the same time. 

The arrangement is simple, really. You’re there to help them get their frustrations out now that they’re far too famous to be sleeping around with just any old roadie like the old days. They trust you. And you trust them. It’s easier this way for everyone. They get to blow off some steam and you get the most mind blowing sex of your life – all while getting to travel around the world doing what you love (for a handsome paycheck). 

Plus, there’s satisfaction in knowing that despite there being thousands of men and women out there who would give anything to have them the way you do… it’s you who they go to. It’s you who they trust. 

And anyways, you’re fairly certain that none of those screaming fans would be able to handle them like you can. 

Though it had taken time, you had learned over the years what makes each of them tick – the thing that drives each of them absolutely crazy. 

They’re both so similar and yet so different at the same time. Sun and moon, yin and yang… whatever you might call it – they balance each other in a way that few can understand. 

Their differences are subtle, and yet they make all the difference in the world. 

Josh loves to watch you. He wants to see how your face contorts in pleasure and how your tits bounce when he fucks you. He wants you on your back with your knees up to your chest so he can watch his cock slide in and out of you. He wants to watch you unravel around his cock as he whispers sweet things into your ear. Good girl, clever girl, beautiful girl. All you have to do is lay there and take it – let him pleasure you with his skilled tongue and big cock. Call him baby and Joshy in your sweetest voice and he falls apart inside your cunt, whining and moaning so prettily for you. Josh will give you orgasm after orgasm after orgasm until your body just can’t take it anymore and when you’re finally spent – laying there in a daze,  he’ll grin and kiss you softly. 

And then there’s Jake. Ever the dark to Josh’s light… he wants you to beg for it. He wants you cock drunk and desperate as he brings you to the edge over and over and over again until you’re left as nothing but a whiny mess beneath him. He demands respect. You call him sir or you will receive punishment. You do not cum unless he tells you to. You are obedient to him and him alone (though he always remains a slave to your pleasure despite himself). He likes you on your hands and knees where he can grip your hips and reach around to squeeze your throat as he pounds into you mercilessly. And his mouth. The vulgar things that spew from those plump lips of his leave you blushing like a schoolgirl. You’re his whore, his slut, his pretty little hole that he gets to use for the night. And when he finally, finally lets you cum…it’s the closest to Heaven on Earth that you’ll ever get. 

But yet, as different as they are from each other… they’re the same in all the ways that matter. Your pleasure is at the top of their priorities. As much as you are there to help them relieve themselves on the road… they never take you for granted. At the end of the day, you call the shots and you have both of them wrapped around your finger completely. They’ll follow you into the depths of Hell if you ask them – which you’re sure is where all three of you are headed anyway. It’s an addictive little dance that you all play and you’re sure that it can only lead you all down the path of destruction. And yet… none of you can find it in yourselves to care. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ✺ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You already know that they’re pissed. You can practically smell it in the air as you wait patiently in the green room, waiting. 

They had already been having one of those days – where everything seems to go wrong and they’re both intent on blaming the other for it. You’d been watching them do their dance all day. Listening to their bickering and passive aggressive little remarks at each other as the hours wore on and on. As close as they are… as inseparable as they are, there are days when they can’t seem to stand each other. 

And unfortunately, the tension between the two of them had manifested itself on stage tonight. Of course, you’re 100% certain that none of the members of the audience had even noticed, but you had. And they sure had. 

Josh had been late to the curtain drop. Perpetually late to everything else, he’d always had the decency to at least be on time for his own concerts until tonight. Jake’s shoulders had tensed practically up to his ears at the confused sounds of the crowd as they realized that they were one man short and though you couldn’t see him, you’re sure that the glare that Josh had probably received had been pointed and harsh. 

And then of course Jake’s equipment had malfunctioned briefly, causing him to angrily gesture at his tech to get the problem fixed. It hadn’t taken longer than two minutes and few even noticed the mishap, but the shit eating grin that Josh had given Jake only added to his building rage. 

And finally, the nail in the metaphorical coffin for the night… Jake had decided that it would be a wonderful idea to cut Josh off in the middle of one of his little bits, effectively silencing his joke with a piercing whine from his guitar. 

You’d known immediately that it was over. They'd pushed each other far enough and you would be the one to suffer the (delicious) consequences. It’s just a matter of who gets to you first. 

If Jake reaches you first, you know that you’re in for a night of complete sexual agony and he’ll push you to your limit until he deems you’ve begged him enough for it before finally giving you an orgasm that you’re sure to remember for months to come. And you’ll surely be waking up tomorrow with a bright red ass and a hitch in your step. 

And if Josh gets to you, well… it’s harder to tell with him. Perhaps he’ll decide on a vibrator for the night – getting to watch you fall apart serving as the perfect distraction from his troubles. Or perhaps his tongue will instead be his weapon of choice, using it to make you cum until you physically can’t anymore. 

Either option sounds wonderful and you can’t quite tell which one you want more. The wait will be well worth it no matter which boy is the one to reach you first. 

– 

The sound of the door opening stirs you from your thoughts. You turn to see Josh (the lucky winner for the night) eyeing you like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen. At this point, you’re pretty sure that you are. 

“Y/n.” 

That’s all he says. It’s all he has to say. Even from here you can see his eyes are blown wide and his chest heaves as his eyes drink in your form. Standing there, cloaked in velvet, he’s the picture of sin. The gemstones on his suit glitter as he stands there and you meet his hungry gaze with an innocent smile. 

“Hi, Joshy. Something wrong?” The lilt in your voice is sickly sweet, building up the tension that will inevitably make him snap. 

He only hums – the sound rumbling deep in his chest. 

“I think you know what's wrong, baby.” He whispers, dropping his hand down to palm his hard cock through the velvet. 

Well shit you think to yourself, an excited thrum coursing through your veins as slick pools between your thighs. If he's starting something here… he's desperate enough to not be able to wait for the short ride back to the hotel. All the signs are pointing to tonight being one that you won't forget. 

“Bad day?” You question, leaning back on the sofa where you're sitting and giving him your very best doe eyes. 

He nods, a sigh escaping from between his teeth as his hand grazes his crotch– his throbbing length obvious to you through the tight material. 

“Anything I can do to make you feel better?” This game is making you even wetter… the promise of what you know is to come. Without another word, you slide your body downwards until your knees hit the floor. You glance at him, patting the sofa with your palm. “Bet I can make you forget all about today, baby.”

“Fuck.”  He practically moans, biting his lip as he stalks across the room to look down at you. “You gonna be my sweet girl? Help me relax?” 

You nod, your mouth watering at the sight of his cock straining the fabric of his jumpsuit.

He grins devilishly, unzipping his suit and pulling the fabric down so that it rests around his thick thighs. With grace, he eases himself down to sit on the sofa, leaning back and spreading his legs. 

He never wears underwear in these tight suits and you’re grateful as you sit and stare at his cock. Flushed red and rock hard, it curves upwards to rest against his belly. 

Making a show of it, you hold your palm open and allow a string of saliva to drip from your mouth into your waiting hand. Josh groans at the sight and you waste no time as you wrap your palm around his length, slowly pumping him as you keep your eyes fixed on his. 

A flush has overtaken his cheeks and a light sheen of sweat beads at his hairline. He's got his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth as he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back. He wants to watch you stroke his cock. 

You drop your focus to his throbbing erection, flicking your wrist as you continue to tease him. You press your thumb into the spot just beneath his head and a whine escapes him. You keep the pace slow – too slow for his liking. Working him up until he can't stand it anymore. 

“Don't tease, baby.” He whispers, his tone soft but demanding. 

His hand covers yours, halting your movement as he gazes down at you. You know what he wants. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, flattening the muscle as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck, there she is. My wonderful girl.” He mutters, placing the head of his cock on your tongue. He doesn't push in yet, instead taking a moment to admire the sight before him: you, on your knees, tongue obediently extended and your eyes glittering in the dim light. 

Slowly, teasingly, he slides his length into your mouth and you close your lips around him. Relaxing your jaw, you allow the blunt head of his length to hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly around it, exhaling strongly through your nose. Placing both of your palms on his thighs, you dig your fingers into the meat of them as you start to bob your head up and down. You keep your tongue pressed into the underside of him, drawing a loud moan from between his pretty lips. 

You pull out all the tricks you know, making sure to gag every now and then because you know it drives him wild. Tears stream down your cheeks and saliva drips from the corners of your mouth and Josh is quickly coming apart beneath you. 

Just as his cock begins to twitch, signaling his impending orgasm, you’re both broken from your moment at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You pull off him, wide eyes turning to be met with none other than his twin – a dark, dangerous look on his face. 

“What a fucking sight.” He says with a grin, stepping further into the room. 

Josh eyes him warily, his cock softening at Jake’s interruption. 

“What do you want, Jake?” You ask him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“You’re kinda interrupting something, here.” Josh says snidely, sitting up straighter and pulling his jumpsuit back up to cover his cock. 

“I didn’t say you had to stop.” Jake shrugs, taking a seat in the chair opposite the sofa. “Just patiently waiting for my turn, is all.” 

You quirk a brow at him. He’s never done this before – neither of them have. You can sense the tension and anger radiating off Josh – and Jake seems entirely too comfortable as he sits there watching, a smug little smirk on his face. 

“Wait somewhere else, then.” Josh demands, sitting up straighter and glaring at his brother. 

Jake only meets him with a grin, sitting back in his seat and spreading his legs to get more comfortable. 

“I’m good here. Won’t take long anyway.” 

Despite yourself, you huff a laugh at his joke and then it's your turn for Josh to glare at you.

“Fuck off, Jake.” Josh tells him, jerking his head for the door. “Be fucking thoughtful for once in your life.” 

Jake sits forwards suddenly, placing his elbows on his knees and narrowing his eyes. 

“That’s rich coming from you, brother. Easy for you to say when you always get your fucking way.” 

“That’s not true and you know it.” Josh snaps, eyes fiery. 

Jake scoffs. 

“Fucking diva.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Boys.” You cut in, wiping your palms on your thighs. “Enough. I’m not doing anything with either of you if you’re going to act like children. You,” you glance at Josh, “now you know that you can be controlling and nitpicky sometimes.” Josh’s eyes narrow at you and he opens his mouth to protest but you start in on Jake instead. 

“And you” You glare at Jake, washing the smirk off his face. “You know that you like to stir shit up and make people mad on purpose because you think it's funny. You both have been acting unreasonable all day and you will not be using me as a piece in your little games with each other.” 

Josh looks suitably chastised and Jake too has the decency to look a little guilty. You rise from your place on the floor, knees protesting slightly. Both of their brown eyes track your movements, their facial expressions exactly alike. Fucking twins you think to yourself. 

“Can you please make him leave?” Josh begs, pleading with you with his eyes and a tiny pout on his lips. 

“No. I’m the one who’s leaving. I’m not fucking either of you until this” you gesture between the two of them, “gets resolved. You both know what room I’m in. Get your shit together and figure it out.” 

With that, you stalk confidently across the room, throwing open the door and making your way to the exit of the venue. Just as you round the corner, faintly you can hear Josh’s voice – angry and high pitched, “You couldn’t even let me have one fucking moment with her, could you? You asshole!” 

Rolling your eyes, you call an Uber and wait for it to take you back to your hotel. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ✺ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You take a nice, hot shower as soon as you get back. You take your time, allowing yourself to relax and forget about your idiotic twins. Once you get out and dry off, you check your phone to see a text from Jake. 

I’m sorry.  

You just giggle at the message. You know he’s never being malicious. But he does enjoy stirring shit up sometimes without really thinking about the consequences. You figure you’ll leave him on ‘read’ for now so he can sit there tonight and stew for a little bit.

Just as you turn it off, the screen lights up again with a text from Josh. 

im sorry baby

You figure you can answer him. He hadn’t been the one to try and involve you in their pissing match anyways. You send him a quick ‘It’s okay.’ before turning your phone off for good. Once changed into a pair of comfortable cotton panties and a tank top, you slip under the covers in the hopes of getting some good sleep. 

–  

A loud knock wakes you. 

Sitting up, you rub your eyes and try to get your bearings. You’d been sound asleep. 

Another knock against the door. 

“Fuck, coming!” You call, climbing out of bed and making your way to the door, fully expecting one of the twins to be waiting on the other side. 

The door swings open and you stop dead in your tracks. Both twins stand across the threshold, matching twinkles in their eyes. 

“Hey, angel.” Jake says kindly, as if both of them showing up at your door in the middle of the night is perfectly normal. 

“Um. Hi?”

“May we come in?” Josh asks you, grinning slightly as he takes in your state of (un) dress. 

“I guess?” You step aside, allowing them both to step into the room (annoyingly in sync as they walk). You close the door and lock it behind you. “Is everything okay?” 

“Wonderful, actually.” Jake says, plopping himself down in the desk chair and swiveling back around to look at you. 

“You and Josh figure things out, then?”

“Yup.” Josh says, popping the ‘p.’ 

“Great.” 

They’re both silent for a minute, making you squirm slightly under their dual gazes. They know something… or want something. You can feel it in the air. They’re up to something. Whether good or bad… you have no fucking clue. 

“Is there a reason that you’re both here?” You ask, sitting on the edge of the bed as Josh comes to stand in the middle of the room. 

“Yes. Though whether or not both of us stay is up to you.” Josh starts, glancing back at his twin for a moment before continuing. “See, we realized that we were both being a little overly dramatic today.” 

“Which Josh started.” Jake butts in. 

“Shut up, Jake.” Josh says, narrowing his eyes again and you’re worried that they’re going to start all over again. But Josh lets it slide. “And neither of us really want to give you up for the night seeing as how we’ve both had such a shit day.” He pauses and looks pointedly at Jake. “Regardless of who started it.” 

“And see… we thought that maybe – just this once, neither of us should have to wait. Figured that maybe we could share you for tonight.” Jake cuts in. 

“Share me?” You ask slowly, brain working a mile a minute as it tries to make sense of his words. Surely he doesn’t mean… right?

“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Josh says easily, hands moving about slightly as he speaks. “Or you can tell us to fuck off and we’ll leave you alone for the night.”

You swallow thickly, heart thrumming. 

“Share me…” You echo, brows pinched together. “As in, you both… with me. At the same time.” You speak slowly, still trying to wrap your head around the idea.

“In essence, yes. If you’d like to.” Jake says. 

You’re silent for a long moment – each of them waiting patiently for you to speak again. You’d be a big fat liar if you said that you hadn’t thought about it before. Having both of them… the ultimate sin that your mind loves to throw at you whenever you’re alone. Nights in between touring when you lay alone in bed, your own hand between your thighs to relieve the ache that the twins leave in their absence. Your thoughts – unable to choose, swirling between both of them. Their faces, the same but not, plaguing your mind’s eye and making your aching pussy soaked. Josh’s sugary words and Jake’s dirty compliments echoing through your ears all mixed up. The thought of having both of them at once – as wrong as it may be… just the thought alone usualy has you coming apart in seconds. 

And now here they are, offering you your deepest desire on a silver fucking platter. 

“Okay.”  You breathe out, voice shaky but sure. 

“You’re sure?” Josh asks, stepping towards you and brushing his fingertips down your cheek. “It’s your choice.”

“You won’t hurt our feelings by saying no.” Jake adds, smiling ever so softly at you. 

“And I’m saying yes.” You tell him with all the confidence that you can. Because you do want this. More than anything. You want to be fucking ruined. 

And yet… you’re not sure where to start. This is new territory – one that feels as though it’s too good to be true. Perhaps it is. 

“I believe I interrupted something earlier.” Jake says, once again leaning backwards in his chair. “Perhaps we can start by letting you finish what you started.”

Jake must have sensed your hesitance, deciding instead to tell you where to start. You’re infinitely grateful for him and his ability to sense when you need guidance.This is familiar for you – letting him take control. It’s natural the way his velvet voice tells you what to do. It makes this easy. 

You nod, gaze sweeping to where Josh stands, his face eager as he watches you slide off the bed to come and stand before him. 

“On your knees for me, sweet girl.” Josh whispers, easing his sweatpants off his hips and then hooking his fingers in the elastic of his boxers and pulls them down as well. He’s already hard and leaking, probably aching to be touched after being interrupted earlier. Slowly, you ease down onto your knees. 

“Suck his cock, angel. Make him feel good.” Jake’s voice is smooth as whiskey, just barely above a whisper. 

You do as he says, opening wide and letting Josh slide his cock back into your waiting mouth. 

“Shit.” He hisses, tossing his head back as his tip hits your throat. His hand comes up to tangle in your hair as he begins to thrust into you softly, giving your throat a moment to adjust to the intrusion before picking up his pace. 

You can feel the wetness between your thighs as you sit there letting him use your mouth – the cotton of your panties surely completely drenched through. Something about the noises Josh is making coupled with the feeling of Jake’s dark gaze on you has you feeling like you could come completely untouched before the night is over. 

The sound of a zipper being undone has you pull off Josh and snap your gaze over to Jake – Josh whimpers at the loss of contact but you’re more concerned with the sight of Jake easing his own hard cock from his pants and wrapping his fist around himself. He strokes his hard length lazily, eyes never leaving you. 

“Did I tell you to stop?” He asks, a sharp edge to his voice. “Keep sucking him, angel. You look so pretty like that.”

Josh’s finger hooks beneath your chin, forcing your focus back onto him and you gasp at the sight. His eyes, normally a soft brown, are blown almost black with lust. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is heavy as he gazes down at you. 

“Focus on me.” He says softly, his thumb coming down to caress your bottom lip. He tugs at it, dragging it downwards slightly before gripping your jaw a little harder. 

You take the hint and open your mouth again. 

“Good girl.” 

This time, you do give him your full attention as his thrusts into your mouth grow more confident. You gag around him and you hear Jake let out a quiet little groan at the sound. Spurred on, you relax your jaw even more, taking Josh even deeper. 

“Oh fuck.” Josh whines, head tossed back in pleasure. “Good fucking girl.” 

His cock twitches on your tongue and he pulls out, a string of saliva connecting his flushed tip to your mouth. 

You pout slightly, having wanted to taste his release but he only smiles at you. 

“Not yet, baby. I wanna savor this.” He caresses your jaw lovingly. “On the bed.” 

You hastily comply, scrambling to sit in the middle of the large bed and looking at your twins – waiting for them to tell you what to do. 

“Look at that.” Jake says with no small amount of pride in his voice as he stands up and begins to strip from his clothes before striding over to the side of the bed. You take a long moment to admire him. 

You eye the way his biceps and forearms flex as he moves, your mouth waters as you admire his plush thighs, and your own thighs clench at the way the strength of his body is balanced by his curves that are so rare to find in a man. He’s nothing short of breathtaking.

“Always so eager to please. Just waiting to be told what to do.”  He hums, hand still lazily stroking his leaking cock. “Strip.”

“That’s a good girl.” Josh mutters, watching you with hungry eyes as you pull your tank top over your head and slide your soaked panties down your legs, kicking them to the floor. 

Josh, the only one still clothed, begins to strip himself – but your focus is ripped from him as Jake comes to stand at the edge of the bed. He grips your calf in his strong, calloused hand, using it to yank your body around and onto your back. There’s no finesse to his movements as he manhandles you into the position he wants, the hunger in his eyes infinitely clear. 

Once on your back, Josh climbs into the bed between your thighs. He settles his weight between them, using his palms to spread your legs wider and exposing your glistening folds. His back muscles flex as his lithe form settles, his amber eyes glittering up at you. 

“She’s dripping.” Josh murmurs, tongue darting out to lick his plush bottom lip. “Stunning.” 

You whine, inching your hips towards him slightly, your core aching to be touched. 

“Desperate little thing.” Jake’s velvet voice rings out through the room, his hand coming down to tangle in your hair. He stands at the edge of the bed, his hard cock merely inches away from where your head hangs off the edge.

Another pulse of need rocks through you as your brain catches on to the possibilities that this position grants you. With Josh nestled between your thighs and Jake’s aching member so close to your mouth, you have no doubts about where this is going. 

As if in answer to your sinful thoughts, Josh swipes a finger through your folds, just barely brushing against your swollen clit and making you jolt. 

“Josh, please.” You whine, spreading your legs wider for him – begging him silently to give you more. 

“She just loves to be eaten out, don’t you?” Jake murmurs, looking down at you squirm on the bed. “Go ahead, Josh. Give her what she wants.” 

Josh relents, delving into your core and circling your bundle of nerves with his tongue. The feeling is sudden – aggressive even, and the stimulation makes you cry out loudly. He hooks his arms around both of your thighs as he begins his assault, using his talented tongue to completely unravel you. 

Jake, never one to let the spotlight last on Josh for too long, taps the head of his cock on your lips. Without hesitation, you open your mouth and let him slide his member between your lips. With your neck hanging downwards, he reaches all the way to your throat with ease. You moan and swallow around him, making his composure crack slightly as a groan escapes him.

“Fuck. Perfect little mouth.” He praises, beginning to thrust delicately into you. “Tap on my thigh and I’ll stop.” He says through clenched teeth and all you can do is moan around his cock in response. 

Josh’s slender fingers suddenly join in the mix as he plunges them into you – curling them in a way that makes your legs feel like jelly as he keeps lapping at your clit with your tongue. He moans as he does so, his hips rutting into the mattress below him as he pleasures you. 

If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’re sure that you’d be screaming from the pleasure. Between Josh’s menstrations and the sound of Jake’s breathy moans as he fucks into your mouth, your orgasm is already rapidly approaching. 

Your arms thrash about widely, finally coming down to fist into the sheets as the crest of pleasure builds within you. Josh is unrelenting, using all the things that he knows makes you fall apart. Jake is faring no better than you, his face twisting and contorting in pleasure. 

“Come on, Y/n. Be a good slut and cum, baby.” He encourages, voice shaky with his own pleasure. “Enjoy it. You’re not gonna get another one for a long while.” 

With that, the band snaps and your orgasm rips through you – drenching Josh’s face as he works you through it. Jake pulls from your mouth, allowing you a chance to get a full gulp of air as you writhe beneath them. 

Josh sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and grinning from ear to ear. 

“Tastes like candy.” He says, licking his lips as he gazes at your spread out form. 

All you can do is lay there stunned for a moment as you recover, chest heaving. 

“She’s a sight for sore eyes.” Jake murmurs, caressing your jawline with his pointer finger. “Bet that pretty pussy is just aching to get fucked, isn’t she?” 

You nod, body already aching for another orgasm. 

“Does my beautiful girl want my cock?” Josh asks, gripping your ankles and pulling so that your head now rests fully on the bed. 

Just as you open your mouth to reply, Jake cuts in with a dangerous lilt to his voice. 

“Don’t assume, brother. Maybe she’d prefer someone else’s.” 

“Doubtful.” Josh snarks, glaring daggers at his twin. 

“Fuck, stop.” You breathe out, sitting up to glare at both of them. You try to keep your face stern, but the thought of both of them arguing over who gets to fuck you has more slick pooling between your thighs. “No arguing.” 

“Your choice then, baby.” Josh grins, a smug smile on his face as if he already knows your answer. 

But in truth, even you don’t know. In fact, you have half a mind to let them continue arguing if only to further fuel the fire between your legs. But you figure that encouraging them would only end in all out warfare. Instead, you just grin at them, a wonderful idea coming to life in your mind. 

“Jake.” You start, turning to meet his dark eyes. “Get on the bed.” 

He grins and complies, eyes glittering thinking that he’s going to get his way. He always does when it comes to the bedroom, but tonight you want to challenge him – remind him and Josh who’s really in charge here. 

Jake crawls over to you, a dominant air about him as he moves to smother your body with his own. But instead of allowing it, you press your palm into his chest and push – shoving his back roughly into the headboard. 

Air escapes his lips in a shocked huff as he stares at you – completely taken off guard. Josh, seeing his expression, laughs quietly.  

“Angel, what-” 

You shush him. 

“Quiet.” You glance between him and Josh. “You both said that I’m in control, didn’t you?” You ask, though it’s not really a question. You all know the answer. 

Jake nods and Josh whispers a quiet ‘yes.’

With a grin, you turn your eyes to face Josh, his lips parted and eyes watching your every move – just waiting for you to tell him what you want. 

Without a word, you nudge Jake’s legs further apart before settling yourself on your knees between them. His chest moves up and down rapidly as he looks up at you. Though he’s letting you call the shots, you’re sure that you’ll pay for it some other time. But for now, you’re going to enjoy it.

“You know, Jake…” You murmur, sweeping your palms up his thighs and feeling the muscle twitch beneath your fingertips, “You love calling the shots. Maybe even more than Josh does.” You drop your hand to play with his cock – lightly pinching his tip between your fingertips and making his hips buck upwards off the bed. “I feel like maybe it might be time for a taste of your own medicine, yeah?” 

A delicate, almost silent whimper escapes him. It’s so quiet that you might have thought you imagined it… but the way his cock twitches and his chest heaves gives him away. 

“Josh?” Josh, sitting silently and watching you, perks up as you finally turn your attention back to him. “Come here, baby. Right behind me.”

Josh complies, crawling over behind where you sit between Jake’s thighs. Without a word, you slowly ease your chest downwards, spreading your own thighs and allowing your ass to stick up invitingly in the air for Josh. You wiggle your ass and a shaky exhale punches out of him, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

As he does so, you sweep your gaze up to meet Jake’s eyes – his pupils blown wide with want. Opening your mouth, you teasingly lick up his shaft, swirling the tip of your tongue around his head, before pulling your mouth away again. 

“You don’t get to come until I say. Understand?” 

He nods and you wrap your arms around his thighs and dig your fingers into the soft flesh. 

“Words.”

“I understand, angel.” 

Tossing your head back over your shoulder to look at Josh, you ease your hips back towards him again. 

“Let me fuck you, pretty girl.” He begs, his hard cock pressing into your ass cheek as he waits for your permission. 

“Go ahead, Joshy.” You tell him, keeping your voice nice and sweet just like he likes. “Make me feel good.” 

You descend your mouth back onto Jake’s aching cock as Josh enters you with one long thrust. You moan, causing Jake to groan at the vibration. 

“Fuck, just like that.” Jake moans, his hand coming up to grip your hair but you swat it away. You want to enjoy the control for a while longer. 

Josh’s hips slam into yours rhythmically, his pace slow and precise. With each glide of his cock against your walls, his head nails that special place inside of you. It takes all of your focus to keep bobbing your head up and down Jake’s length, making sure to keep your tongue pressing up into him – making him writhe and moan as he fights to keep himself from rutting his hips up into your mouth. 

“Baby,” Josh moans, his voice sounding wrecked as his hips increase their speed. “Fuck, I can feel you fluttering around me.” 

The wet sound coming from between your thighs coupled with the sound of Josh’s skin hitting yours and the sound of your mouth moving up and down Jake’s cock makes a delightfully symphony of pure lust and sin. You know already that this night will forever be cemented in your mind for years to come. You will never be able to think of it without growing wet. Josh’s cock is stretching you so wonderfully and Jake’s pretty noises are making your clit throb. 

Saliva dribbles out of the sides of your mouth, drenching Jake’s cock and just by the sound of him alone you can tell that he’s close. Josh’s pace is beginning to grow frenzied, his breaths coming out in tiny little moans as his own orgasm approaches. Hearing both of them, Jake’s hot, aching cock twitching on your tongue, Josh’s cock hitting all the right places… it’s like every one of your senses has been overtaken with them. Their sounds, the feel of them. Fuck it’s the best feeling in the whole fucking world. And as much as you don’t want this to end, you just can’t fight your orgasm anymore. 

You cry out around Jake’s cock, throat constricting around him as your release rips through you. Josh is a moaning mess as his own orgasm overtakes him, his cock painting your walls as he buries himself inside of you. His hips keep going, overstimulating himself with your clenching pussy as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Finally he pulls out, murmuring praises for you as he tries to calm down. 

Through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind, you register Jake’s cock twitching on your tongue. He needs to cum, his whines echoing over the roaring in your ears as he holds himself back, waiting for your permission. 

You pull off him, robbing him of his finish and a feral growl escapes him at the loss. You’ve enjoyed not giving him what he wants and the power has gone to your head it seems. But you’ve pushed it too far. 

Faster than what you thought possible, Jake sits up and fists your hair in his grasp. He yanks backwards, exposing your throat for him and you can’t help but moan. 

“Brat.” He whispers, leaning in close to you. His eyes look over your shoulder to Josh, who’s eyeing the both of you warily. “Move.” Jake demands, but Josh doesn’t do it. “Move.” He demands again, eyes blazing. 

A fresh wave of slick escapes you, dripping down your thighs and drenching the bed below at the anger in Jake’s voice. Making him wait, telling him what to do… it had been wonderful while it lasted but this is the Jake that you want. 

“Josh.” You whine, unable to face him fully because of Jake’s hold on your hair. “Do as he says.” 

Gingerly, Josh moves up in the bed. As soon as he’s out of the way, Jake grips your waist and flips you, pushing your back into the mattress as he hovers over you. His cock, neglected and no doubt aching, grazes your stomach and your thighs clench together in the hopes of soothing the ache there. 

“I agree to share you for the night, I let you call all the shots. Fuck I even let Josh be the one to fuck you…” He says darkly, his fingers gripping your sides and digging into your skin harshly. “And this is what I get in return, huh?” He laughs, sitting up just a bit to grip his cock in his hand and pump himself a few times, his precum making it easy for him. “No more nice. You’re gonna lie here,” he says, sliding his tip through your wet folds. “And you’re gonna fucking take it.” 

Josh, breaking his silence at last, leans back onto the headboard and spreads his legs. 

“Be good for him, baby girl. Just lie there and look pretty doing it.” 

The shock of his words has you momentarily breathless but then Jake spears you with his cock, effectively silencing your thoughts of anything other than the feeling of him stretching you. You cry out, hands fisting in the sheets at your sides as Jake starts a merciless pace. His hips are like lightning, pounding into you at a pace that you’ve never experienced before. 

From the corner of your vision you can see Josh, his hand dropping between his thighs, his dick rock hard yet again despite having only just cum moments before. He moans your name at the first glide of his hand over his cock, his knees falling open wider and his jaw hanging slack with pleasure. 

"You look so fucking pretty like that, baby." Josh's words come out shaky thanks to the pleasure coursing through him. "Fucking hell."

Jake, his face contorted in almost a snarl, snaps his hips into yours like a man possessed. It’s so fast and so soon after your last orgasm that your pussy feels like it's on fire – icy hot sparks mixing with the pleasure as your body trembles beneath him. You open your mouth to speak – to demand more or for him to stop you have no idea, but all that comes out is a high pitched, whiny moan. 

“I don’t fucking care.” Jake grits out, licking his thumb and dropping it to circle your clit. Your body jolts, the pain of overstimulation finally melting away to fiery pleasure.

Josh’s moans grow louder, the sound of his fist over his cock matching the pace of Jake’s hips – brutally fast and unforgiving. Your name falls from between his lips, interrupted only by groans and whimpers as he brings himself to the edge yet again. 

"Cum for us, baby. Make a mess." Josh encourages, his hand never slowing.

"Give it to me. Come on, angel." Jake's demand is firm but his voice wavers and cracks as he holds himself back.

The band that has been building and building in your lower belly finally snaps and your whole body goes taut, your muscles contracting and shaking uncontrollably as your release washes over you. Jake’s pace finally falters, his hips stuttering and a loud, feral groan falling from between his plump lips as he finally finishes. Josh’s voice rings out as he paints his hand and belly, his own release hitting him at the sight of you. 

– 

As the fog of lust and wanton, filthy desire finally begins to dissipate, the three of you are left lying there trying to get your breathing back under control. As harshly as Jake had been fucking into you just moments before, he’s delicate and soft as he slowly pulls out of you. His hands caress your sides, his rough fingertips ghosting over your skin and making goosebumps rise in their wake. Josh sits up and leans forward to brush your sweaty hair from your forehead. 

You smile lazily up at them, body still buzzing with pleasure but tiredness leaching into your muscles. 

“Better now?” You murmur, a lazy smile on your lips. 

“Infinitely.” Josh answers you, eyes glittering.

“Thank you, angel.” Jake says, pressing a feather light kiss to your belly. “So good for us.” 

“The best, even.” Josh adds, tone equally soft as Jake’s kiss. “And all ours.”

“All yours.” Is all your tired brain can come up with to answer. And it's the truth. You’re theirs. Completely. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ✺ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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[heartfullofleeches]

Small thing with Yan Vampire Harem/ill-tempered Maid Reader

Working quietly, you make your way to the backdoor to enjoy your break in peace. Regardless of your supposed freedom during the time, you were often roped into spending it subjected to the care of your masters as thanks for all you've done. It'd be more welcomed had they not been doing plenty of that during your shift as well. You'd grown some semblance to it by now and would have mostly succumb to their begging had it not been for the guest waiting for you outside.

You ease the door open, but a foot jams it shut halfway. A smirk is pressed to your spine as hands creep to your waist; an all too familiar laugh ringing in your ear.

"Hm.. Good Afternoon to you too, dearest . And where might you have been going without telling your dear caretakers?"

You pull your shoulder from their barrage of kisses. "Outside."

The vampire huffs. "So crass. Why go outside when you can enjoy a nice meal with us all here? There's so much preparation to be done for us to join you out there. It's not fair."

"That's the point. Look, if you let me go out now, I'll think about sleeping in your coffin tonight."

The vampire chuckles. "Deal." They kiss your cheek, sneaking a lick before they slip back into the shadows of the room. You hurry outside before anyone else comes, pulling the door close as gently as possible.

The garden is quiet at this time of day, as it is during all hours till dusk. You and the other servents tend to them daily, but you are the only one who has access to it at all times. It's a combination of the rules being bent towards your favor, and their love for taking you out on a nightly stroll every once in a blue moon.

You stroll on by the fountain. By the rose bushes and bundles of blooming plant life in favor of a group of shrubs by the farther wall. Their leaves wilt and roots separate by past force, giving a clear look into the outside forest on most days. On this, a pair of golden eyes block your sight from the world you once knew.

"I told you not to come anymore, didn't I?" You tone is lax as you reach out and touch the snout of the beast. It rubs its nose against the pad of your hand with a small whine as verbal sign of its stubbornness. Ignoring its protesting sounds as you pull away, you dig around in your satchel until your hand fall on a the smushed paper bag. You take the sandwich from its casing; a note pinned to the plastic around it.

"Have a good day! I hope it treats you well. Please come visit me well. Love you - A"

A took care of most of your meals. It was apparently their only talent and slightly more welcomed than the love letters and music pieces you received. You felt a little guilty for not remembering their name, but as far as you could recall no one here had one that started with it. Pushing the thought out of mind, you slip the note in your pocket; your companion growling in response.

"You don't have to rush me. Here." You hand the unwrapped meal to the animal who snaps it their jaws; your fingers christened by the wind beneath the force of its bite. You pet it as it eats, leaning against the stone wall. You came across the animal not even a month ago. Pruning the same bushes it hid beneath was how you found it. You offered it a spare tomato and the following day you heard its whimpers again. You never saw more than its luminous eyes and shaggy fur, but figured it to be some kind of canine. It shifts around beneath your touch; a gesture gone unnoticed as you heed to the cheerful calls from across the field.

"Y/n! There you are!"

Umbrellas overhead, two hooded figures march your way. Twins, those who never left each others side and tries always to be by yours. Others knew when to distance themselves, but these two were persistent. You remain still; expecting the animal to run off, but its still there.

The pair stop in front of you as the first speaks. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

You hold up the empty paper bag. "Eating."

"Let us know next time, we've been looking all over for you." The other speaks. "Honestly, I don't get what the big deal is about this place. It's far too bright and it smells like a mutt out here."

"A mutt? Now that you mentioned it- it doesn't, but worse. It's almost like a..."

"Get away from that thing."

The twins express various sounds of surpise as a voice speaks from other their shoulders. You're caught off guard as well, as you never see this one outside of rare visits. The Count stares past you and at the bush, clearly on edge. Neutral as ever, you remain in place.

"It's just a wolf and it's harmless. I've fed it for a while and nothing's happened."

"That's not a dog- Y/n, move-"

Before the warning could come, you're suddenly off the ground. Legs swinging in the air, you look down to see two thick limbs caged around you. The creature holds you to its furred chest; claws dangerously close to your neck as it smushes its cheek to yours. The werewolf lets out a soft whine as it licks your jaw.

As the twins scream, you can't help but feel a little gullible for not realizing this sooner. "Honestly should have expected this by now."

The rest of the afternoon is somewhat of a blur. Your masters attempt to get rid of the beast, but there's not much they could do with it carrying you around. It listens to you at some degree as you're able to get it to bring you inside the mansion, but refuses to let you go. They begrudgingly give you the night off until they could find a solution to your new pet.

[rebelliousstories]

Candles

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,286

Masterlist: Here

Summary: Tom doesn’t allow a lot of personal items in his office on base, much preferring to keep his loved ones close to his heart. But he had to have a little something.

As he rose in the ranks, Tom kept switching offices every few years. Never staying in one spot for too long. He supposed it was a good problem to have, but it also meant that he never cared too much about what was put up in his office during his inevitable short years there. There were his certificates that were displayed with pride, and the few personal effects he had with him. Models of the planes he flew, a single picture of his family’s annual Christmas photo they take every year, and a candle.

It seemed a weird item to have with him, but every office he had ever been in, that candle had followed him there. Tom had never lit the candle, but having it near him was enough. It was going on a decade old now, but it still was in perfect condition. The aroma, while not lit, still gently seeped into the air, providing Tom with a beautiful memory every time he let his mind drift further and further into the scent.

//

“Babe? Darling?” A young, ambitious pilot called out into the Navy housing he found himself in. The blonde set down his sea bag, and started the tiring process of taking his boots off. They were left by the door, and he made his way deeper into the house. He smelled food cooking on the stove, queuing him in as to where his girlfriend was. Tomatoes, meat, and pasta wafted into his nose as he took a deep breath in. But upon his second intentional smell, he noticed something else. Citrus, ginger, and a hint of vanilla that made you feel all warm and cozy, like making cookies on a frigid evening with your grandmother.

It was her favorite candle to burn, having bought almost fifty this year alone. Her one little guilty pleasure to have that Tom did not have the heart to take away from her. Walking into the kitchen, he was met with a precious sight. Tom’s loving girlfriend, dressed in his old navy shirt and sweatpants, hair pulled back messily, cooking over the hot stove. How did he get so lucky? Iceman made his way over to the woman and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. She was startled at first, but relaxed smelling her lover’s familiar aftershave surround her.

“Hey! I didn’t hear you come in. How was work?” She asked, genuinely wanting to hear about his day. Tom rested his head down on her shoulder when she went back to stirring in the pots on the stove.

“It was alright. Just happy to be home with you.” He whispered, pressing a few kisses to her neck and shoulder. She hummed, and set down her utensils to turn in his arms finally. They shared a loving kiss once she did, and they both felt Tom’s body fully relax underneath the hands of his lover. Unfortunately, they needed air, so they pulled away and rested their foreheads against each other.

“Go take a shower, and I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get out, okay?” She whispered. Tom nodded his head as best he could and kissed her again before untangling himself from the warm body of his lover. He went to leave the kitchen and noticed the burning candle on the counter.

“How many of these have you gone through this year, darling?” He teased as she focused on the sauce in front of her.

“Oh, hush. You know you love the smell too.” She sent right back to him. Tom chuckled and left for his shower.

It was truly amazing what a shower at the end of a long and tiring day will do to revive someone. Just the act of scrubbing away all the exhaustion from the day, mentally and physically, did wonders for Tom as he emerged from their bedroom. Now, fresh and clean, he walked back to their dining room just in time to see his girlfriend plating the spaghetti bolognese she had made. He leaned against the doorway and just watched her for a moment. She was dressed in his clothing, which was adorably larger than she actually wore, setting their dinner table with the dinner that she made. It made him feel… domestic. Suddenly, he could see every night ending like this. Except now, he had a toddler to run after and a baby in her arms. The thought alone made his heart swell.

“Tom? Tommy?” She called, noticing her boyfriend standing there, staring off into nothing. He shook his head and smiled at the woman.

“Yeah? Sorry. Lost in my thoughts, darling.” Tom made his way over to her chair and pulled it out as he waited for her to finish up. She held a light smile on her face as she noticed that her boyfriend could not stop staring at her.

“Oh yeah? What were you thinking about?” She lightly teased as Tom sat down across from her, and begun to dig into the food on the table.

“Nothing. Don’t worry.” He dismissed, but she was still skeptical.

“Alright then. Tell me about your day then.” Tom launched into telling her all the things that he could tell her legally, knowing that she enjoyed hearing about his work whenever she could. Conversation quickly passed through different topics as the couple enjoyed their dinner, and through the ice cream dessert she had acquired at the store earlier in the day. As they lay together on the couch, watching old reruns of their favorite tv show, Tom took in another deep breath where the aroma of the candle flooded it.

“Why do you like this candle so much?” He inquired, turning to face his girlfriend who was snuggled into his side, with her head on his chest. She shrugged, yet still responded.

“This was the candle that was burning on the table when we went on our first date. I wrote it down when you had left so that you wouldn’t see or think I was weird for liking it so much. I just wanted to have a reminder of that first date. Plus I love candles, and now I think of you anytime it burns. When you’re deployed, it makes me remember you easier cause I associate you two together.” She explained, never lifting her head from his chest lest she would see a look of judgment across her boyfriend’s face. But she felt him press a kiss to her head, and he stayed buried there for a moment.

“I love that you have something like that. I wish I had known sooner.” Tom whispered into her hair. He felt her smile against him, and nuzzle further into his chest.

“Next time I go get another one, I’ll get you one too.” She promised, enjoying the warmth and love from her boyfriend.

“I would love that.” He agreed. In the back of his mind, the box in his duffle bag burned a whole through his conscious. Tom knew he wanted to give it to her, but this just solidified where he wanted to.

//

Now, all these years later, the candle sat in his office as a reminder. It was that candle that gave him all he has today. It gave him his wife, his children, and his happiness. That candle from all those years ago, from his first date with his love, gave him what he has today. And now, that candle sat on his desk no matter where he ended up to remind him of his joy throughout the years. It sat right next to the portrait of his family, one that they were due to update any day now, as a reminder.

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Agatha All Along: Day 843

Agatha and Y/N: *opens door*

Wanda: “Well, how was the play? Did you enjoy it?

Y/N: “It was wonderful!…at least what we saw”

Agatha: “The theatre has changed a lot since I last went, the etiquette? The structure? Dull.”

Wanda: “Wait, back up: what you saw? Did it not finish?”

Y/N: “The finale is actually happening as we speak, but we had to depart early…for reasons.”

Agatha: “Apparently you’re not allowed to “throw rotten fruit at the actors anymore” or something silly.”

Y/N: “You grand-slammed a tomato into Romeo’s face when he was crying over Juliet’s corpse!”

Agatha: “How else are you supposed to let the actor know they suck? It’s called audience input! Can no one can take a critique anymore?”

Y/N: “Yes, but those are usually transmitted via an online review! Not by making Elizabethan instant pasta sauce on the actors!”

Y/N: “The worst part of all of this? Now I’ll never know how it ends!”

Wanda: “To Romeo and Juliet? THE most popular Shakespeare tragedy?”

Agatha to Wanda: “Can I throw a tomato at them?”

[pathetichimbos]

First Meeting - Part Five

((part four here)) ((part six here))

Thomas Hewitt/GN!Reader

tagslist: @goodiesinthecloset21 @shykoolade @strawb3rry-gal @ktssstuff @theclownbaby0 @leah-halliwell92  @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @aleracrovn

---

You’ve run away from home, hitchhiking around Texas as you come up with your next plan, only to find that life has plans of its own when a simple ride with a group of friends lands you at a lone gas station in Travis County, drawn to a mysterious man most seem to avoid.

---

Luda Mae didn't say much else after your confrontation, only directing you on where they kept the empty egg cartons once you were done drying the eggs and which fridge to put them in.

She tasks you with helping with dinner, leaving you in charge of cutting the vegetables she needs for the beef stew she was planning to make later in the day.

Okra, onions, tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, celery... This stew was packed full of everything, a big and filling meal, a recurring theme you could already see playing out in this house.

The Hewitts clearly didn't lack in food, making enough for everyone and more, their fridges stockpiled with everything any person could need, from fresh fruits and vegetables to drawers full of home packaged meats.

Luda Mae begins preparing lunch as you chop the vegetables, the radio filling the silence between the two of you as you think of something to say, trying to find a way to fix the awkwardness you had created.

Before you get the chance, however, Luda Mae breaks the silence herself, "Go fetch Monty and Thomas for lunch."

"Right." You drop the last of the now chopped vegetables into a large bowl with the rest of them, "...Where are they?"

"Monty'll be on the front porch, with that damn yappin' mutt of his. Tommy'll be in the basement, straight down the hall."

"Ok, where do you want me to put these?" You grab the bowl off the counter.

"Put 'em in the fridge for now."

"Yes ma'am." You do as you're told, going to the front porch first.

You push the screen doors open with a sqeual, the two wooden doors already wide open to help air flow through the house.

You step onto the porch, swinging your head right to the empty swing, then left to see Monty at the other end of the porch, sleeping dog curled up in his lap.

"Hello?" You ask, as he doesn't seem to react to your presence at all.

No response.

You step closer, and the faint sounds of snoring make it apparent he's fallen asleep. You take another step, reaching a hand out to touch the back of his wheelchair in an attempt to wake him.

But, instead of waking him, you wake his dog, who jumps up as soon as your hand touches the chair, barking ferociously at you.

You jump back, pulling your hand away as Monty wakes up with a jolt, looking around confused.

"What the-- Roxanne, shut up!" He hollers at the dog before spotting you, already grumpy at being woken up, "What the hell are you doin' here?"

"I, uh... I'm supposed to tell you lunch's ready?" You take a step back, unsure of what else to tell him.

"Aw, hell." He huffs, turning towards the front door and making his way across the porch, yelling out, "Luda Mae!"

You step out of the way to let him pass before quickly following behind, making sure to reach up and open the screen door for him.

"I don't need your damn help." He mutters, pushing the other screen door open with his cane and making his way inside, "Luda Mae!"

"What the hell are you yellin' about now, Monty!?" She calls back from the kitchen.

"What is this person doin' in my damn house!?"

"Your house!?"

You ignore the rest of the conversation, quickly walking past the kitchen as they argue, following Luda Mae's previous instructions and going straight down the hall.

This end of the hall is dark, a stark contrast to the rest of the house. There's a single step into a small room, and when you try the switch it doesn't work.

The large metal door is daunting, not like any basment door you've seen, towering over you in the dark like a threat.

Just like a horror movie... You can't help but to think, stepping forward and looking for a door handle.

You don't find one, your fingers running across the cold metal in the dark, feeling for a way to open it. Instead, your fingers catch on the side, and with a little more looking, you realize it's a sliding door.

Gripping the edge of the door, you pull as hard as you can, the heavy metal scraping as it slowly pulls open, working against you as if it didn't want you to open it at all.

You give up once you get enough space to squeeze through, leaving it partially closed as you step inside.

You're immediately met with a faint, foul smell, and a wooden staircase going down into a wall before turning into the rest of the basement hidden from your view. You can hear someone moving around down there, a faint light creeping up the stairs.

"Thomas?" You call out from the top platform, shifting in place. The basement was already terrifying you, and you hadn't even taken the first step down, "You down here?"

You hear metal clatter, and something drop before heavy footsteps make their way over to the stairs. Thomas comes up to the second platform, a rag in hand as he wipes off his hands and arms. You can't see what he's wiping off, and you're sure you don't want to.

"Lunch is ready." You tell him, Luda Mae's and Monty's yelling loud enough to echo into the basement as you give an awkward smile, trying to make light of the situation, "...I don't think Monty likes havin' me here much."

Thomas lets out a small amused huff, well aware of his uncle's habit of looking for a reason to have a problem.

"Are you coming up?" You ask, and he nods, tilting his head towards the basement as if to say he'd be up in a minute, "Alright, I'll tell Luda Mae."

You step back out of the basement, barely managing to push the door shut again.

You can hear the arguement finishing up as you head back into the kitchen, managing to catch the end tail of Luda Mae shutting it down, "...Sit down and eat so you can shut the hell up. Ain't no damn reason for you to be mad right now."

Monty grumbles something else too quietly for you to hear as you step back in, already stuffing his mouth full of the lunch Luda Mae prepared.

"Thomas says he'll be up in a minute." You break the silence, tension thick as you take a seat at the kitchen table.

Monty rolls his eyes, smacking around a full mouth, "Oh, what'a big help you are."

Taken aback by the sudden insult, you look between the two of them, beginning to pick at your own plate of food.

"Ignore him. He's just mad at nothin'." Luda Mae sets two more plates down before taking the seat beside him, "Don't talk with your mouth full, you damn fool."

He huffs again, glaring down at the plate of food as if it's responsible for everything wrong in the world, though you had an inkling suspicous he was directing those feelings towards you.

Another minute passes in silence, as the three of you sit and eat, your plate signifigantly less full than theirs, a request you gave Luda Mae earlier as to not waste any food you couldn't eat.

"...This is really good." You finally speak up, the silence driving you mad.

"Thank you. At least someone's appreciative." Luda Mae gives Monty a pointed look.

"Ain't suppos'ta talk wi'f my mou'f full." He makes a point of talking around a large bite of food.

It's her turn to roll her eyes as she turns back to her own plate of food.

"Why are you here anyhow? You get kicked out of your own house for bein' a druggie or somethin'?" Monty abruptly asks.

"Damnit, Monty--!"

"No, it's alright." You shrug, "I don't mind."

The smug look on his face almost makes you want to take it back, but you ignore him as you start explaining, "Mama drinks too much and Dad ain't around. Just seemed easier to go out on my own than to try and fix someone who doesn't wanna change."

"And it's also none of your damn business." Luda Mae points out.

"It's my damn business when it's in my damn house."

She scoffs, about to say something else when Thomas walks in the room, opting instead for saying nothing else, simply giving Monty a silent warning glare not to say another word.

"Hi..." You mutter, looking up at Thomas as he sits down, unbelievably relieved to have him in the room.

He looks around the room, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife between Luda Mae and Monty, creating an awkward environment for everyone in the room.

You stare down at the table, picking at your plate as you steal glances between the two of them before catching a glimpse at Thomas, who was doing the same as you.

You look at him, and then back at the other two. He nods, apparently sharing your thoughts.

You bite your lip, glancing between the two of them and Thomas. Perhaps it was the overly exaggerated look of anger on Monty's face, or the way Luda Mae continues making annoyed facial expressions, as if she was still arguing with him in her head, but suddenly you find yourself struggling not to laugh.

Thomas seems to be thinking the same thing, food untouched in front of him as he tries to fight off a smirk under his mask.

You place your arm on the table, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you look away, almost visible shaking from trying to stifle your laughter. It was like being a kid again, sitting between your parents trying have a serious arguement over the stupidest thing they could possibly think of, completely aware of how much trouble you could get into for laughing but unable to stop yourself from chuckling at their overdramatic antics.

The rest of the meal is spent in silence, you and Thomas stealing glances at each other and stifling your amusement at the two.

After everyone finishes you gather the dishes, helping Luda Mae wash them, the awkwardness long gone since Monty went to his room to take a nap.

You wash the plates and silverware in silence, Luda Mae drying and putting them away.

It's still early in the afternoon, and she's got nothing else to do, giving you plenty of time to grab your book and settle on the living room couch.

Luda Mae sits on a love seat on the other side of the living room, crotcheting something you couldn't quite make out. Perhaps it was too early in her project, or perhaps she was just shit at crotcheting. You don't bother to ask, content with reading over your book as an old song drifts through the air, dripping with static as the old radio pushes it out of it's speakers.

You pull your feet onto the cushion, leaning on the arm of the couch as your eyes read over the familar words for the hundreth time.

It's easy this way.

Easy to not ask questions.

Easy to pretend everything's normal.

Easy to forget what happened yesterday.

At least, it was.

The words are too familar, you know them too well.

They begin to blend together on the page, losing your focus as your mind begins to wander, the words changing and shifting until you're back in the pantry, watching Katie cry and plead for her life, helplessly yanking against her constrains.

You clench your eyes shut, her screams echoing in your mind as you shake your head, pushing the memory to the back of your mind, letting it settle in your chest like a gnawing guilt, reminding you that you could have done something different.

You're caught off guard when Thomas walks in the room, taking a seat on the couch and catching your attention. He's changed out of the grimey clothes he had on before lunch, now adorning a clean, navy blue dress shirt and jeans.

You look back down to your book, trying to refocus on the words and keep your mind away from yesterday, away from the thing that made you scared of him.

It doesn't work, and you close it, setting it down beside you as you sit up, leaning back and letting your head hang back as you stare at the ceiling.

You feel a tap on your hand, and you look over to see a concerned Thomas. He takes your hand, writing out his question, "A-R-E U O-K?"

You stare at your hands for a moment, letting his question roll around in your head for a moment before nodding, "Just tired..."

He nods as well, letting your hand go.

It feels cold for a moment, and you almost miss the heat of his hand against yours.

The rest of the afternoon goes on rather slowly, with not much to do, you're left to distract yourself.

Luda Mae shows you where the washer and dryer are, helping you get a load done so you can finally take a shower and feel clean.

It's a dream, clean clothes on clean skin, finally given the chance to run a brush through your hair, fighting against the tangles that have made their home there over the past several weeks.

You almost don't know where to start, staring back at yourself in the dingy mirror of the downstairs bathroom, wet hair clinging to your skin as you face the daunting task ahead of you.

You try your best to brush through the mess on your own, brush pulling at the knots harshly, leaving your arms tired and wrists hurting as you barely brush a few of them out.

"You alright in there?" A sudden knock makes you jump, grip tightening on the old hairbrush.

"Y-yea," You sigh, opening the door for Luda Mae, "Just havin' some trouble with my hair..."

She looks you over through thick glasses before sighing herself, "Well, come on then."

That's all the warning you get before she's walking down the hall and back towards the front of the house.

"Huh?" You blink in confusion, quickly following behind.

"Sit." She takes a seat on the couch, pointing to the floor in front of her, "Come on, now, I ain't got all day, supper's gotta be made."

It takes you a few seconds to realize what's happening, but none the less you do as you're told.

Luda Mae takes the brush from your hands as you cross your legs, leaning against the front of the couch and giving her access to your hair. Thomas isn't in the living room anymore, but the one sided conversation you can hear Monty having on the front porch gives you an idea of where he may be.

Luda Mae's hands are gentle as she works, slowly but surely brushing through each knot with much more ease than you had yourself. It's obvious she's done this before.

You close your eyes, letting them rest as she combs through your hair, humming a quiet song.

"...It's been a long time since I've brushed anyone's hair," She speaks up, "Thomas won't let me do it no more."

"You used to brush his hair?"

"Mhm. Every mornin', since he was just a little baby. Then Hoyt and Monty started teasin' him for it and now he does it himself..." Her voice is sad as she explains, carefully working through a particularly difficult knot.

"...You're a good mother." You're solemn as you lean your head forward, giving her better access to the back of your head, "He's lucky to have you."

You hear her hum in response, unable to see the small smile gracing her face,

"...There we go." She finally states after a few minutes, pulling the brush away from your hair, "All done."

You sigh in relief, running a hand over your hair just to feel the difference, "Thank you, it feels so much better."

"You can thank me by helpin' with supper." She pats your shoulder, and you take that as your sign to stand, following her into the kitchen to help make dinner.