DEFINITELY NUTS

DEFINITELY NUTS ᡣ𐭩

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & model!fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost mentions you but 141 doesn't believe that he got a wife

tags: crack (well, attempted), fluff

Ghost’s strict rules for privacy are something the 141 has known for years now. He’s not the type of person to blab about his personal life and often chooses just to keep quiet. So, imagine their surprise when he suddenly says that he’s going to take a day off because his wife asked him to watch a play. 

“Price, ‘am not gonna be here tomorrow. Got a date with my missus.”

All eyes are on him, everyone stills. “WIFE? Since when?!” Soap exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. His eyes were almost bulging out his eyes. “Never told you about her?” Ghost hums, unamused by the Scottish’s exclaim. “Johnny here does have a reasonable reaction. You never tell us anything ‘bout you, mate,” Price joined, chuckling and pulling out a cigar. The man just contemplates before brushing it off and bidding farewell, leaving the group confused. 

“Ain’t no way he’s telling us the truth. That man ain’t got no bone in his body to bag someone,” Soap voiced out, looking for anyone to support his disbelief. “I mean..” Gaz whistles out, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head as if he’s agreeing to some extent. That’s when, unbeknownst to Ghost, he got the reputation of being delusional and a liar. 

Soap, still doubtful days later, watches the lieutenant with a vision like a hawk. “Hey, lieutenant.” Ghost snaps his head up, looking at him. “How was the date with your wife?” Immediately, everyone else stopped what they were doing, silently listening. It was obvious he was baiting Ghost, emphasizing the wife as if putting on quotes. They weren’t as nosy as Soap but each one of them still held a bit of doubtness that the brick wall of the team managed to get a girl, and even marry her.

“It was okay. The missus had fun,” Ghost chuckles, fondly remembering how you were beaming on the way, rambling about the plot of the play. “Can we see pictures?” Soap smirked thinking he finally got the lieutenant but was taken aback when Ghost only shrugged and pulled out his phone before freezing. “Ah, we didn’t take pictures yesterday. Said she wanted to live in the moment.” 

Soap whipped his head to signal to Gaz, seemingly saying ‘See? He’s definitely lying! How convenient he has no pictures.” 

“How about just a picture of your wife?” Kyle suggested, now invested while Price seemed to be shaking his head in the corner. “I have none with me but..” With a few clicks, Ghost holds up his phone for everyone to see. Like birds, everyone flocked around him, curious to see. For a while, everyone was surprised and sure the man was lying. I mean, he just showed them a picture of a drop-dead gorgeous model from a magazine! 

‘He's definitely lost it’ everyone seemed to think, offering pity glances at the man who had this prideful shine in his eyes. Walking up to his superior, Soap patted him on the back. “It’s fine, mate… we understand how difficult it must be.” ‘not having a lady at all’

Thinking Johnny meant about your hectic schedule, he agreed. “It’s quite tough but we make it work,” he chuckled which made everyone wince.

‘Definitely nuts!’

Weeks passed after that and the topic never got brought up, until Ghost came in with a bento in hand covered with a handkerchief with frilly ends. When asked about it, he replied, “Ah, wife’s testing out recipes for an upcoming TV show. ‘S been practicing and asked me to bring one.” Once again, he was given pity glances and even heard a defeated sigh from Soap. 

‘He’s too far gone’

“How’s work?” you ask, dazedly paying attention to the movie you guys put, more invested in burying your face in Simon’s chest while he drapes both arms on your waist, completely engulfing your torso under his muscles. “Been getting a few weird stares,” he mumbles, playing with your hair and pressing kisses on your forehead. “Why?” you peer up, resting your face on your chin. “I don’ know, princess.”

Meanwhile…

“Should we just… finally set the lieutenant on a date? I feel bad. I mean, he even lied about his “wife” making him lunch,” Johnny sighed.

“Probably the best idea,” Kyle nodded.

Now Price… he knows the truth. He met you before when you dropped by, asking for Ghost— which ended horribly— but he’ll lying if he said he’s not getting a kick out of this.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: probably won't be posting for a while :] Did you guys notice the hint to my previous work? Please do. 😔

dividers by @cafekitsune

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Please please please more dead dove thoughs on brahms, maybe him with breast feeding kink pleaseeeeeeeee

Brahms very quickly becomes obsessed with his new nanny's tits

Even before they're aware that he's not a doll.

Sneaks into their room when they're asleep and lifts their shirt just to look at them. His mouth waters as he resists the urge to latch onto a nipple.

After they've learned of his presence, and accepts being with him. Brahms tries so hard to get under their shirt

He's so whiny and needy and begs to drink. Even when they tell him they don't have any milk, he insists.

He starts asking to nurse several times a day and it devolves into him just going to his nanny and pulling at their shirt.

Brahms likes to have them cradle him in their lap and fist his cock as he nurses.

He's so desperate and needy and will start to call them mommy after a while. Begging for mommy to let him cum, or to let him nurse.

for your 2k follow celebration, could you do wife fem!reader x husband patrick? patrick has a lactation kink (reader is breastfeeding) and facesitting? angel / pretty as pet names <3

You're My Snack

PAIRING: Husband!Patrick Bateman x Wife!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Your husband is hungry and horny. Only you can satisfy his hunger since you're his favorite snack.

CONTAINS: Smut, Daddy kink, lactation kink, spanking, body worship, tit sucking/nipple play, face-sitting, pet names, dirty talk.

WORDS: Around 1k

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, I hope you like it! 💗🤞

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [2k CELEBRATION MASTERLIST]

You always knew that your beloved husband, named Patrick Bateman, had many kinks, but you never imagined that he would be so turned on by breastfeeding — once he tasted your milk, he couldn't stop thinking about it, and whenever he got a chance to latch his greedy mouth around your swollen nipple, he did it with a desperate ferocity. 

That night, Bateman found you peacefully napping on the couch, and he couldn't take his dark eyes off your heavy breasts that looked so captivating in your tight top. Licking his lower lip briefly, Patrick approached your sleepy form and traced a finger along your cheekbone.

"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured in a low voice, sliding his thumb down to your lips to part them. "My pretty girl."

A sudden surge of heat rushed through your body as his warm mouth found the most sensual spot on your delicate neck, and that delightful sensation woke you up. Batting your long eyelashes, you tried to get up, only to be easily positioned on his lap.

"I've missed you, Angel," he nipped your earlobe, his hands wasting no time exploring your curvaceous body. "I've been thinking about tasting you all fucking day."

"But I–" You stammered as Bateman cut you off with a searing, sloppy kiss on your lips.

"You only fed me in the morning, right?" He arched his brow playfully as his nimble fingers were busy outlining the shape of your hard little tips. " So, I'm hungry again."

His silky voice flowed through every particle of your trembling frame, making you submit as if you were spellbound. "Uh, you're so insatiable ..."

"It's all because of you, honey," Patrick grinned before pulling up your top with ease, his mouth watering at the sight of your milk-filled breasts and the next moment he was already swirling his wet tongue around your engorged nipple. "You like it, don't you?"

Considering how badly you were shaking; it was kind of pointless to deny it. "Yes, Daddy," you used that nickname faster than you could even realize it. "Please ... leave some milk for the baby." 

Bateman groaned in response, sucking covetously at your tender flesh — the sweet taste of your milk was intoxicating, forcing his blood to rush through his veins. Hot and bothered, Patrick released your swollen peak with a loud pop, licking every single drop of your breast milk.

"Fuck, you're so tasty," he pulled you even closer, making you wrap your legs around his waist and grind against the hard bulge in his pants. "Do you want to ride Daddy's face after he finishes his meal?"

Oh shit, that sneaky bastard knew how to hit the bullseye when he needed to. 

"Yes..." you gasped and involuntarily brought his head closer to your chest, shutting your eyes as you were about to lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation. "You're s-so hard, Daddy...mhmm...I can feel it."

With a low chuckle, Bateman painfully tugged at your nipples before slapping your ass with both hands, savoring all of your high-pitched wails, not to mention the way you frowned every time your dripping pussy rubbed against his hardness. 

"Ahh, look at you," he slapped your butt once more, then gave your ass cheeks a pretty rough squeeze. "Enjoying yourself, babygirl? So eager for my cock?"

His dirty talk didn't give you a chance, as by now you couldn't control your moans or the needy rocking of your hips against his firm ones. "Lie down already!"

Your sudden attempt to take the lead took him by surprise for a moment, but instead of restraining you or punishing you for defying his dominance, Bateman just sneered mischievously and did as you asked.

"All right, Angel," he crooned teasingly as he lay back on the soft, white couch and loosened his red tie. "Go ahead, show me how well you can use Daddy's face."

Patrick didn't have to ask you twice.

Carefully but confidently, you positioned yourself on top of his beautiful face, leaving inches between your soaped slit and his ravenous mouth, ready to devour you at any moment.

"Don't doubt me, Daddy," you murmured excitedly as you moved your panties aside and descended lower, his perfectly shaped nose brushing so deliciously against your taut, lower lips. "Awww, Patrick..."

At first, Bateman lay still and only stuck out his tongue, allowing you to take control and set the pace that was comfortable for you, each slide along his scorching flesh igniting you with passion. Whimpering uncontrollably, you tangled your fingers in his brown curls, bucking your hips back and forth along his face, drowning in the pool of pleasure his mouth was giving you, exploring your oozing folds delightfully and sucking on your blushing clit.

"Daddy," you gasped, tilting your head as you felt your orgasm building in your core, Bateman noticed it immediately and held your hips tightly to keep you in one place. "I'm close... I'm so damn close!"

"Mmhm, my slutty little Angel," Patrick's muffled voice reverberated against your throbbing bud, making it hard for you to move, but now it was his turn to take control as his strong hands on your thighs encouraged you to keep grinding on his tongue. "(Y/n), you ride my face so fucking good."

As soon as he felt your body convulse, Batemn pressed his thumb to your bundle of nerves to make the friction completely unbearable, accompanying it with merciless lapping at your wet entrance, plunging his tongue inside as you reached your climax, intending to make your orgasm even more blissful.

"Pat-Patrick...mmmmhm," you gripped his arms almost painfully, but he didn't even flinch. "Your mouth...feels so good...I love...I love you..."

Patrick could barely keep himself from giggling at your pleading comments, but he couldn't deny that they worshipped his ego like nothing else in this world.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

Sis! I just came across your blog today and I'm in love. It's super fun and gorgeous and I'm so glad to see yet another black woman in the slasher community 😩🔪

I saw that you're taking requests so I was wondering if you happen to have any Thomas Hewitt headcanons of him breeding his female partner who's chubby?

T.H. — SOUTHERN STYLE CREAMPIE !! 🍰

╰┈➤ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 : thomas hewitt &&. chubby female reader

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚(𝘀) : MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT , breeding kink , mentions of pregnancy , rough sex , grabbin' some ass , tommy is a dommy soon-to-be dilf

𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 : aw thanks a bunchhh ! <3  i've been contemplating making a slasher blog for so long and finally came through ! and AAAA this request is fucking juicyyy !! thomas is my most favorite big boy EVER out of all the tall , dark and handsomes , so thank you for making him my very first request on here ! 🥰

• thomas is a total ass man. most southern, country men just have a natural taste for big hips and an even bigger butt to charm it, overall preferring their women to appear as if she never missed a plate of homemade cornbread and biscuits during an early morning's glitters. large hips are also a sign that a woman has reproductive potential and capable of a smoother childbirth. there's no doubt thomas would absolutely worship every crumb of your delicious shape, and he's a big guy himself, so he's got to have someone who can withstand him between the sheets without the possibility of breaking them as effortlessly as a toothpick whenever he desired to get as rough as he pleased. and best believe, he gets rough. ( more cushion for the pushin'! )

• thomas would definitely have a thing for breeding you senseless. given his family's current antiquity, they weren't going to be around forever, and he wanted the hewitt legacy to continue to live on as he was raised to be quite family oriented. luda mae would always gift a slight smile and tease you about the desire for grandkids whenever thomas was in earshot, earning a roll from his eyes and the timid turn of his head. thomas always was shy, but when it came to the bedroom—boy, that was a different tale, much to your surprise. he had grown to be far more comfortable around you when alone.

• he will most likely favor to be in missionary/mating press if he plans to breed, although open to exploring various positions. it allows him to go as deep as he wishes, in addition to the breathtaking pleasure when his balls press up against the puffy lips of your pussy, causing each to lift from one another in a tightening bliss as they begin to empty inside of you. he also gets to look into your eyes, and his favorite : place his hands underneath your round asscheeks and grope a nice palm full. ( you can reach over and grab his ass as well. he's a total sucker for it, and it makes him fuck you even harder. )

• it was no surprise considering his size and stamina that you could feel him filling you up with a massive quantity, and you clench even tighter around him at the mere sensation of each thick string loading upon your cervix. you become overwhelmed with a luscious sensitivity for he doesn’t stop his hips from fucking relentlessly into your own until he’s certain that your belly will soon bear his child, until your creamy tits are swollen and ripe of milk.

• as soon as he begins to empty himself inside of you, he will roughly grope at and hold places on your body. his hands will find their way to your breasts and squeeze, the sides of your fupa, or your hips to sink his fingers into the plump flesh as he plunges deep into you one final time, his ass violently shuddering and his lips discovering yours. make sure to give him praise. let him know that you can feel it filling you up, that it feels so, so good, as your fingers softly comb his hair.

• god, he loves when you have no other option but to be filled. he’s aware that you have a specific adoration for his size and strength being able to dominate yours so easily. he’ll press you hard into the mattress, face down and ass up, when he’s about to burst, making sure you know you can’t escape.

• he’s a silent person for the most part, but when it comes to having sex with you, no ma’am. he’s heavily verbal, his growls and grunts the only sounds within the room besides your own and the clapping of skin against skin. he has a habit of growling directly next to your ear whenever he releases, especially during the descend of his high, and it absolutely drives you crazy.

• he’ll slightly lean his body atop yours as you catch your breath, feeling that his thick cock continued to spurt smaller amounts of what is left even when what has felt like half a minute has passed. his balls become slightly covered with his own essence as they kiss your overflowing womb, giving a quick jerk of his hips as an emphasis that it was still stuffing you to the brim. he could hardly wait to witness how full your stomach would be in the future, knowing that he was the one to make that happen. your precious cunt was made for him—made to be filled with his seed.

• don’t be surprised when you aren’t able to walk adequately the next day, and don’t be surprised when you find him eyeing you, brow raised and a rather amused, smug smirk a secret beneath his mask. though he is concerned about your soreness and will treat you, it also laid as an ego booster about what he's capable of doing to you.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄?

# day 15. knife play

ghostface!gojo satoru x cheerleader f!reader

genre. pwp, smut

cw. mask kink, praise, pet names, mild knife play, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, mating press, doggy | wc. 2500

kinktober m.list | interactions are appreciated

the tall man next to you slides his hand behind your back and pulls you to his side, closing the car door with his free hand. “you were great tonight,” he praises you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

he presses another when you giggle. “thank you,” you murmur with a smile fading on your lips, “but you know they only made me captain because of what happened.”

you dreamed of being a cheerleader captain from freshman year. you put in a lot of hard work and effort, but maybe you lacked what all the cheerleader captains in teen movies had. you weren’t a mean bitch.

“well, it’s not like that bitch didn’t deserve it, i mean” he looks at you smiling as he walks you to your front door, “with everything she put you through.” yes, maybe the bitch had been a little too much of a bitch, but getting killed in that horrible way, by a serial killer in a mask, had been a little too much. then, was her best friend’s turn, her boyfriend’s and finally her mother’s too.

“baby,” you grumble, stopping to look in your purse for your keys, “I wanted to deserve that position, but not like this.” he chases away your words with a wave of his hand. he lifts your chin with his finger, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips.

“i fucking love you,” he whispers pulling away slowly. “if you want i can stay, you know, in case that serial killer tries to hurt my beautiful angel,” he chuckles.

you want him to stay so badly. “dad’ s at home” you murmur pressing your hands to his chest. he rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his tousled hair.

“i thought he was in some lousy bar getting drunk” he snorts with a raised eyebrow. “you know angel, he should be that killer’s next victim” he says seriously. deep down, you think the same thing too, but after all, he’s your father and he loves you, in his own way.

after another quick kiss your boyfriend lets you go. “send me some pics with the new uniform,” he smirks, “i need some entertainment for tonight,” he chuckles as he drives out of the driveway.

Keep reading

Run, Rabbit, Run | Thomas Hewitt x Female!Reader (NSFW)

Author’s Note: *slams post button* Here you go, sluts *evil cackle*

Warning tags: Primal kink, chase kink, breeding kink, lots o’ smut.

The Texas sun kissed your sweat-soaked skin with a harsh pressure of a thousand blow torches. His heavy breathing and roaring of his chainsaw pushed you forward, to keep going no matter what stood before you, but the persistent throbbing between your legs teased the resilience of your rapidly depleting willpower.

Miles separated you from the farm house and separated you from the rest of civilization. Oceans upon oceans of rocky dirt, dying grass, and the occasional road kill were all that could be seen.

The radiating sun, which had been sitting proudly in the sky to the East, now sat lamely in the West beginning to hide beyond the horizon. The ivory moon would force away its suffocating heat, providing the barest of illumination, increasing your chances at escaping.

A small part of you wished the sun would stay out and light up the world just a little while longer.

“You’re so polite for someone your age. You remind me so much of my boy Thomas.”

“If he’s anything like you, ma’am, he has to be the sweetest boy around.”

He was a six foot tall mountain of muscle and power, running with the determination of a blood hound tracking the scent of a wounded animal. When you thought you had successfully outsmarted him by suddenly changing directions within the tall, golden thickets at the last second, he’d still be barreling after you, unphased, no further than he was before.

There were moments, fleeting as they were, but impressionable nonetheless, where he had been so close to getting a hold of you. So close, the slight breeze from his hand attempting to grab your hair raised your skin, sucking the breath from your chest as you narrowly dodge him.

And that made things even more thrilling.

His grunts of frustration were muffled by his mask and the tight curve of his bottom lip. The lip jutted out awkwardly and looked as if it had been stung by a bee the way it was swollen.

Deformed.

And this deformed man was coming after you.

To him you were an outsider. A pest that needed eradicating. Even though his Mama willingly invited you into their home, he made you feel as if you were trespassing anyway. He wanted to kill you then and you were sure as shit he wanted to now, probably more than ever seeing how you keep escaping him.

She’d had asked him to keep you alive so assuming that he’d follow through with her request, your life would be spared, but for what sick reason? Would death be more lenient than what they had planned for you?

Of all days for your tire to blow out…

“Here he comes now,” said the woman, smiling expectantly as the basement door opened and out from the darkened staircase came Thomas.

The boy, no man, stood protectively behind the older woman. He placed his hands on her shoulders, watching you with narrowed eyes that were partially covered by a curtain of black, curly hair. To you, they looked like snakes ready to strike, and so did he.

His nose and lower half of his face was covered by a worn, leather mask that wrapped around the base of his head with thick straps. It looked uncomfortable to wear as it was was to look at.

He was not pleased to see a stranger sitting in his living room and you wanted to sink deeper into the faded couch and disappear. Maybe if you pushed against the cushions hard enough.

A muffled scream came from the basement. Luda Mae glanced up at her son then back to you. Your back straightened.

“What was that?”

She smiled, yet it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Nothing, dear.”

Again, the basement door opened, and out came a man in a Sheriff’s uniform. Fresh blood splattered across his chest and arms, trickling down as he sauntered his way into the room.

“Who in the hell is this pretty thing?”

Time slowed down and so did your breathing. All three had you pinned with various stares ranging from curiosity, understanding, and searing contempt. You weren’t going to risk it. You jumped from the couch and hauled ass out the door, leaving a trail of dust behind.

“Son of a bitch,” said Hoyt. “Boy, go get her before she causes us any trouble.”

Luda Mae grabbed Thomas’ hand. “Keep this one alive, baby. She’ll be good one to have around.”

Thomas wanted to argue his Mama’s odd request, but the sweet smile she gave him and the gentle way she held his hand made him reconsider. He didn’t want her, that’s for damn sure, but whatever his Mama wanted, she’d get.

In the midst of your recollection you realized it was ominously quiet behind you. Peering back, he was no longer running after you. I’m fact, he wasn’t there at all.

You spun around, eyes frantically searching the desolate landscape. He didn’t just vanish into thin air, not a man of his size, yet he had. The weeds danced and suddenly parted, revealing him on all fours as he pushed himself off the ground, propelling into you with a gut-wrenching force, knocking you onto your back.

His full body weight had you pinned, flattening the dry brush beneath you. His barrel-chest heaved and his hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing. As frightened as you were, a strange sense of relief washed over and the instinct to raise your hips overtook you.

He tried moving away, but your legs locked him in. You awkwardly shimmied your shorts down and he watched you. His anger dissipated, replaced by hunger the more of your thighs he saw.

You captured his curious gaze, “Look how wet you made me.”

Your hand reached down and massaged your aching pussy through your sodden underwear. You were a mess, physically and mentally, and if you didn’t get fucked soon you were going to go rabid.

“Thomas, please. Don’t make me beg for it. You know what I want.”

Hearing his name revved him up like an engine. He could practically smell you through his mask. Your pussy glistened beneath the moonlight and he was more than willing to comply. With one hand still around your throat, he used the other to hastily unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

He roughly pushed your soaked panties aside and thrusted roughly inside you with a loud grunt. It was swift and had you not been as wet as you were you knew it would have hurt more than it did. You gasped and cried out, pounding your fist to the ground. He fucked you like an animal. It was exactly what you’d been yearning for and if felt so fucking good to finally get it.

His hips bucked with a mighty strength, sending you backwards every time. It made it hard for him to keep himself inside you without having to adjust his position. He scooped you up like a rag doll and pinned you against a tree, folding you between it and his body. The change in position was too much as the angle allowed him to reach new depths inside you, hitting spots you never knew you had, sending you over the edge.

Your climax arrived so suddenly that it left you silently shaking and clinging to Thomas. Your pussy clamped down like the jaws of a lion and he growled, spilling his seed inside you from the tightness.

He laid you both down on the ground with your back to him. You took the time to catch your breath and settle down, but Thomas had other plans. He raised your top leg in the air, spreading you wide and began pumping again.

“Slow, Thomas. I’m really sore.”

Not thinking he’d actually do as you asked, you were surprised at the gradual way he eased his thick cock back into your pussy, keeping a close eye on your face. Although you were too spent to cum again, you nestled back against his chest and idly enjoyed his thrusts.

“Just like that, Thomas. Oh…”

His head was right there and the temptation to kiss him was too good to pass up. Soft lips met his through the mask and he jerked back, stopping his movements altogether.

“God, don’t you stop, Thomas. Your cock is too good. Come back here.”

You wrapped an arm around his head and he let you bring him back down. This time he kissed back, licking and sucking your lips like they were made of chocolate. You were in absolute bliss, not thinking clearly, lost in a haze of euphoria.

With his mouth full of you and you full of him, he groaned a guttural sound that didn’t sound quite human. Your pussy took his second load with open arms, milking every last bit of him he had left to offer. You broke the sloppy kiss to watch his cock pulse and his balls twitch, finding it super erotic.

His cock left you open and wide. You clenched your walls and streams of his fresh cum gushed out. You swiped some and brought it to your lips with Thomas watching in clear fascination. You then offered your finger to him.

He titled his head and inspected the leftover fluid. After some time of pondering his tongue tentatively flicked out, considering the taste, then placed your entire finger in his mouth. He sucked until there was nothing left to suck except the saltiness of your skin.

Using the tree as a support, you carefully maneuvered up. Everything was sore, from your head down to your hips and the simple task of bending down seemed impossible. In an oddly sweet gesture, Thomas gathered your shorts and helped you put them back on.

“You know,” you began, eyes twinkling mischievously, “It’s a long way back to the house. Who knows what could happen on the way there.”

Thomas made a sound caught between a chuckle and a scuff. He watched you strut away, eyes glued to your bouncing ass.

His Mama was right. You were worth keeping around.