#please ignore how fat she is right now

[pangur-and-grim]

I was worried about leaving Pangur for a few days, but lads……she has survived!

[kamitv]

Getting a call while Suguru’s balls deep inside you sounds so interesting, lowkey.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Your fiancé would coo into your ear, cock dipping in and out of your sopping cunt languidly as his hot breath hit the crown of your ear.

It would all be so intimate. The way Geto has you beneath him, holding your shaky legs open for himself as his heavy balls smacked against you every time he thrusted his fat cock into you. His hips were moving slow but his dick was splitting you open.

"Sugu," You'd gasp, nails scratching at his toned back as you panted out a heavy breath of air, "Fuck-, mmh..."

"Can't get enough of this pussy, mmgh. Listen t'her talk t'me," He whispers to you, the messy slick of your cunt wetting up his shaft as he drew his hips back hitting both of your ears, "Y’like that, baby? Like bein’ stuffed like this, hm?” Geto questions.

Though, his words weren’t directed to you.

He often did that during sex— talked to your cunt, referring to it as she and baby just like how he talks to you. And it gets even worse whenever he’s giving you head.

Currently though, as Geto talks you, and your pussy, through his steady strokes, you moan his name up until your phone begins to ring.

The sound of your loud ass ring tone makes your lover groan, leaning up away from you just to catch sight of who the hell was calling you. To his surprise, none other than his best friend’s contact name was beaming across your phone screen.

“Hahh,” Geto cracks a half smile, “The fuck is Satoru callin’ you for?” He asks, sounding annoyed despite the amusement etched onto his features.

The curve of his cock sinks deeper into you as he reaches for your cell phone and you scratch at his chest, too fucked out to render what the hell he was talking about. All you wanted was his body pressed up against yours again.

“S-Suguu, shit-, ignore it, please.” You huff out demandingly, earning nothing more than a mere glance from your fiancé as he peers down at you from the corner of his eye.

Swiping your phone up, “Why’s he calling?”

“I don’t know,” You pout, extending a hand to his neck and trying to pull him back down to you. Your attempt almost works as Geto is tugged a bit closer to you, his hips still and his eyes back on your phone buzzing in his palm.

Cocking his head to the side, he smirks, “Find out then,” Suguru says to you.

You’re confused for only a second before an explanation is given through him answering the call and pressing it to your ear. Your eyes go wide as you realize he wants you to talk to Satoru while he’s balls deep inside you.

Gulping, “Sugu-“

“Hello?” You get cut off by the connection of the phone call and the sound of Gojo’s voice in your ear.

Your fiancé smiles down at you and whispers, “Go on, talk to him, baby. Promise I won’t move,” He hums all too sweetly.

It was definitely suspicious coming from him. You’ve been down the road more times than you can count— Geto promising not to fuck you while you talk to someone but ultimately doing so anyway.

With pleading eyes, you nod, hoping he’ll keep his promise this time around. “Hi Satoru,” You say into the phone, watching your fiancé mock you through his facial expressions.

“Heyyy, how are youuu?” Gojo purrs over the phone, his tone letting you know he definitely called to ask you for something.

You take a deep breath, “M’fine, can I ask why you called?”

“Straight to the point I see,” Gojo says with that smug voice of his.

Rolling your eyes, you release a sigh, "Yeah, I guess so. I'm kinda busy right now so uh, make it quick." Your tone was a lot more put together than you expected of yourself, especially with Geto's thick inches stuffed into the hilt of your cunt.

And for a while he doesn't move, he just sit there, marinating in the warmth of your cunt and listening in on your conversation.

“Well, then," Gojo starts, his voice suddenly enthusiastic, "Remember when I came over last week?"

Geto starts to lean up again and you send him skeptical eyes, to which he flashes another innocent smile at you. Then you sigh, "Yes, why?"

"Did I uh, leave my jacket there?" The male over the phone asks.

You blink, "You could've texted me this question y'know," The end of your sentence comes off all too breathy as a thumb suddenly swats over your clit, your free hand moving down to Geto's finger and trying to swat him away.

He just smirks at you though and presses the pad of his thumb into you, watching the way your back arches a bit and your lips part.

"Yes, I could've texted you this questions buuuut, you always ignore me," Gojo argues.

You bite your lip for a moment as Geto draws small circles around your clit-- you knew he was going to do this and yet you still weren't prepared for it. "I do not," You breathe out.

On the other side of the phone, Gojo tilts his head and his borws furrow, "You alright over there? Y'sound out of breath."

"M'fine, Satoru. And n-no, I haven't seen your jacket," You stammer as Geto starts drawing his hips back his eyes locked down on your cunt and how lewdly it's spread open for his cock, smirking before he spits down on it.

"Right... Well can you ask Suguru then?" Gojo continues, "I really need it for-"

"Can I just call you back?" You say all in one breath, trying your best to keep your composure as Geto eases himself back into you, fucking you so very slowly that it's both tortuous and stimulating at the same time.

The full stretch of Geto's thick girth way driving you insane, the way he'd ease back and then push forward, thumbing your clit simultaneously as his salvia smeared and mixed with the mess you've already made of him from earlier.

"Please?" You suddenly whine, not sure if it was really directed toward Gojo or Geto as you said it.

That's when Gojo pauses, his hears practically perking up at the tone of your voice, "Hey... No need to beg me to get off the phone, y'know," He hums, his voice suddenly... lower? "I would've hung up without the please but I dunno, you sound busier than I expected."

Your brows furrow at his sudden resistance toward ending the call, "Meaning?" You question, eyes focused on your fiance's face which was twisted up and he groaned quietly due to the sudden squeeze of your cunt.

There's a slight scoff over the phone, "Oh nothing, just uh-, well, am I interrupting something?"

Your lashes bat in disbelief of Gojo and Geto's losing his mind at how much your pussy's throbbing around his cock. Was that his doing or his best friend's doing? What exactly was Satoru saying to you over the phone and why were you squirming so much?

Geto tears his eyes away from where the two of you are connected and he looks at your face, spotting that you're basically just as confused as he is. Tipping his head to the side, he locks eyes with you and decides that that's the perfect time to thrust every inch of himself back into you.

The way your jaw drops, a moan pouring out so clearly and obscenely-- it makes Geto smile, nearly forgetting that Gojo probably heard that...

Probably would be an understatement too because Gojo's on his end of the call with his face flushed and his eyes widened, "Did you just moan?" He questions.

And as he does so, Geto decides not to hold back anymore, working up that brutal pace of his thrust by thrust as you slap a hand over your mouth and moan into your palm.

Barely even able to utter a response to Gojo, "N-No," You gasp, "I just-, mmh. Fuck, can I please call you back?"

Gojo blinks. Then he swallows, thickly, "Where's Suguru?"

Your mouth opens to respond but the phone is suddenly taken from you. Geto places one hand to your lower abdomen and pushes down slightly on the imprint in your skin where his cock is, his hips smacking into you roughly as you body jerked and you spasm.

Then you hear Geto speaking and realize he's taken the phone, "Busy fuckin' her to tears, call you back later 'Toru," He hums out simply.

Gojo coughs and then he laughs, "Hey wait," He stalls without second thought.

Your fiance tilts his head into the phone and his hips grow a bit harsher with you, the pressure of his hand on your lower abdomen making his swollen cock hit deeper and deeper. Then there was that mean curve of his, beating into where you were sensitive and making you whimper.

"Hm?" Geto hums in response, sounding almost annoyed.

"Y'Mind if I stay on the phone and listen?"

(pt. 2)

[xazse]

hiii pookie I LOVED your hybrid post like it got me foaming from the mouth ngl 🫶 you're so talented!!

If you're into it, can we get cowhybrid! reader and Farmer!Gojo specifically please and thank you? I need to see the reader all needy and desperate and Gojo being the only one who can truly give her release and and what she truly needs (feel free to remix or add anyone/anything that you please)

If you're not into it, please ignore this ask instead of refusing because I get embarrassed hihi🎀🫶 anyways mwah mwah love u take care pookie

ANOTHER TRY?

Notes: THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED MY WORK!!! and to the second ask I’m very happy you requested that bull!hybrid work lLOVEDDD WORKING ON IT!! You guys are so creative I need to eat ur brain!!! THIS IS FOR ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN ASKING FOR A PT2 I SEE YOU GUYS!!! (IF UR READING THIS TO MY OTHER INBOX OFC YOU CAN BE 🪬 ANON!!)

Pairings: CowHybrid!Reader x Farmer!Gojo

Warnings: Lactation + big!boobedReader + implied chubby!reader + nipplesucking + grinding + mean!Satoru + pussy!slapping + teasing.

Gojo has spoiled you for far too long it makes his blood boil and temples wrinkle when you continue to go see Toji and Suguru, it becomes a habit for you to come back in the early mornings after having a night of “fun.”

Confronting said men proved to be so fucking useless, they just laughed in his face when he said he’d kick both of them to the curb should they continue to corrupt you.

“You need us Satoru, why are you allowed to have your nightly routines but she cant? It was gonna happen eventually.” Tojis face was decorated with a fat sneer, all those times he tried to make sure you stayed as far as possible were all for naught, it’s hilarious seeing him seething behind a cool facade.

“Never knew what Toji seen in the woman but now I completely understand his point.” Suguru yelled from where he was transporting some wood.

Talking to them proved to be useless, as a little payback he made them clean the shed from top to bottom.

Trudging back to the main house in his thick boots Satoru comes to face you relaxing on the couch without a damn care in the world.

Why is he trying to get them to be on his level when he should be punishing you, you’re the one who didn’t listen, you’re the one sneaking out every night. He doesn’t know why he feels this hold on you, you’re such a beautiful girl that he can’t help but keep you in this small bubble.

When your eyes land on him you don’t say any kind of greeting, simply ignoring his presence for the movie on the huge ass tv he bought for you and eating the expensive food he bought for you.

You look extremely good right now, your fat boobs not swollen, but your pretty lips are. Satoru won’t say it but his pants tighten at the thought of what they do to you.

He needs you right now, he’ll make it up to you as much as he can.

He approaches you calmly and collected, sitting down at the edge of the couch where your legs are propped up, you still don’t acknowledge him. His trained hands start circling on your soft supple skin, you surprisingly don’t push him away. You give Satoru an inch he’ll take a mile.

He starts groping your thighs, the pudgy things hold within the creases of his hand. He pushes your thighs apart and gets a good look at your panties: you always choose to walk around the house like this.

They’re extra tight the way they emphasize your fat pussy, the groan that slips from his lips aren’t-something he tries to hold back, he needs you to know how much he wants you, especially wants you all to himself.

The rise and fall of your chest makes you look so cute, why are you so shy all of a sudden? You’re averting your eyes as well.

Satoru starts teasing your clothed folds, dragging his thick finger up and down, he pushes extra hard on your clit eliciting a small moan from you. He continues this for a little, he needs you wet to take him properly.

He peels off your soddened panties and positions himself above you, finally face to face with you. Your boobs are the first thing he attacks, pulling on your shirt and letting them spill out, the little droplets of milk call to him. He’s grabbing one and putting it into his mouth: he loves your taste so sweet like honey as it cascades down his throat so smoothly.

“Nghm… Toru..” finally you’ve decided to grace him with your sultry voice.

He bites down a little on your nipple making you jump away. He reels you right back in and sucks even harsher, there’s barely any milk left but he’s going to make sure he gets his full.

“Toru.” You call his name so panicked and yet you’re grinding against his fully hard cock. He’s so desperate in the moment that he unbuckles his belt and lets his cock bob free.

His fat tip prods agaisnt your folds, messing with your sticky wetness, he smears it on his tip even grinding down on your clit, but he doesn’t put it in, you don’t deserve that.

He teases you, pretending he’s going to give you what you want just to take it all away.

“Please…” a harsh and loud smack is delivered straight to your clit, you yelp and buckle your legs closed.

“Shirt, take your shirt off.” He commands, of course you’re gonna listen, Satoru has never taken that tone with you.

Your boobs now freely spill for him to gaze at. He spreads your legs back open.

“I’m gonna give you ten slaps, close your legs for even one I’m restarting. Understood?” You nod and your ears move along with it. He likes this look on your face: confusion, arousal and a little bit of fear.

On the first slap you make the mistake of shutting your legs closed: completely an accident but he’s having none of it, he hits your little clit again and again.

“Ahn..” you’re still so fucking wet by the sixth slap, creating a nasty mess that drips to your ass. Gojo’s cock is still throbbing, he jerks himself off, smearing his pre all over.

By the tenth slap you’re gone, completely dazed and only able to whine outloud, he decides that you’ve had enough with the tears that sit on your eye line. He pushes your legs back and lines his weeping tip. The feeling of sliding into your sopping wet cunt is better than any pussy he’s ever had.

His strokes against you are fast even though he should be letting you adjust, the sounds of skin against skin meeting each other is downright lewd.

He tells you to rub your nipples, it adds so much more stimulation that you can’t find it in you to hate it.

His cock drags agaisnt your walls over and over, till you can’t feel anything but the sensitivity of your nipples and the twitching of his fat cock.

He fucks you like that all night, even when you’re meant to meet Toji and Suguru, you can’t stop creaming around farmer Gojos length and nor do you want to.

[fartcloudfartcloud]

Do you mind doing a smut blurb about dry humping with Logan pls. I just need to read some dry humping with that man omfg

Tysm in advance you write Logan smut so well 😫😫 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Ofcourse I can lovely, and thank u so much omg im blushing. I'd do anything for this old man and if it were up to me I would have achieved atleast 1 nut on every inch of his body. you know how it is. I love writing dialogue so much, so I hope when I do it's like sexy and in character and not like ew why would he say that ykwim 😭😭😭 Also just realized u said dry humping and this is very much not dry, so if u want specifically some like over the clothes bumping and grinding I fuck with that too, just lmk 😋

Logan couldn't wrap his head around how so men come home to their beautiful girls, just to mistreat them. (he told me himself)

He couldn't imagine coming home and doing anything but pleasing whatever fresh faced beauty had burrowed their way into his heart.

Especially when that freshed faced beauty was as freshed faced and beautiful as you.

You'd fight him, shoo him away when he leers over your shoulder at your makeup routine and scold him when he's got his phone camera in your face. You'd never change his mind, no matter how hard youd try.

He didn't know how you could either, especially now when he's got you like this.

The room is hot and sticky as sounds of you and logans debauchery fill the room. The scene is nothing short of pornographic, since hes got you with your soaked core pressed into his thigh, your legs moving you in a mind numbing pattern.

Logans hands on your hips do most the work, though. He's got you pressed down in a way you're not sure you could sustain on your own, your hips locked back and clit taking most of the abuse, and it's driving you up the wall.

Your eyes are cast down, stairing at the fat of your pussy being smushed back and forth, leaving a slimy trail of slick to drip down the sides of Logans limb.

Logans eyes, however, have not left your face for a moment. You look jaw dropping like this, your head bobbing as your hands desperately grab onto whatever they can hold, your moans reaching a fever pich every time he applies just a little more force.

"You can take it, right baby?" The words don't make it past your lips, but you shakily nod and pant an audible "mhm".

"Atta girl," He praises, one hand coming up to grab your chin. He's got a goofy grin on his face, his pupils blown out and his hair falling into his face as he brings your eyes back up to his.

"There she is," His smile turns fond upon seeing your face again. His hand quickly returns to your hip and resumes his relentless assault on your core, this time his eyes locked on yours in an intimate embrace.

Not only can he smell it, but he can feel your impending climax. He can feel the way the slick is pouring from you, can feel the way your bud gets all stiff and sensitive. If nothing else, it was hard to ignore the way you shake like a leaf, your lungs void of air as it all overwhelms you.

"That's it right there, huh princess?" He asks, your voice becoming high pitched and whiney as you nod, your hands tightening on his tanktop.

"Let me see it baby. Don't take those pretty eyes off of me," He orders, picking up the pace, sprinting to bring you to your finish.

"Lo- its- mph~ i-im-" "shhh, just let it go," He whispers lowly, the sound going straight to your already buzzing center. It's not long before your eyes break his gaze, mindlessly rolling into the back of your head as the feeling consumes your body whole.

His hands don't falter, working you through your orgasm as you relentlessly shake and cry in his hands. Your face ties up, eyes now scrunched up and mouth dropped open in what is probably his favorite of all your looks.

He doesn't stop till you're twitching and squirming, whines going from orgasmic to almost painful as your whole core becomes sensitive.

"Fuck- Logan," you plead, wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face into your neck. You let out a deep sigh as you relax into him, feeling the waves of your release leaving you and being left with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

He wraps his arms around you too, comforting you with his big arms and firm embrace.

"You have fun, princess?" He teases, kissing the crown of your head and pressing his face against it.

You respond with a quiet "mhm", face refusing to leave his neck.

He holds you like this, whispering soft words of so good, so pretty, my baby, into your ears and making your mind get all floaty and soft.

hope u enjoyed!! thank u for the request, keep them coming I'm having so much funnn omg

[catdia]

Sevika with a Chubby S/o pt.2

Sevika is a very jealous and prideful individual. she doesn’t take kindly to others that try to take you away from her

when Finn tried to get you close to him, she killed half his goons as a warning

teaches you basic self defense, how to use your body as an advantage in combat

ended with both of you making out on the practice mats

gave you a knife and handgun as a birthday present

all your clothing is automatically hers as well. loves wearing your shirts and hoodies when running errands

Sevika has MASSIVE hips, she doesn’t like them that much because pants never fit her waist right. but you love them!

and you also don’t like when pants highlight your underbelly. if she sees your belly in any capacity she’s grabbing that thing like a vice

uses your stuff before you ever get to. that new Piltovan skin care you got? Sevika gives it 10/10

eats all your snacks, even the healthy ones that taste “like cardboard”

the scar on her temple gets sensitive with the cold, uses your tummy as a heating pad when cuddling

one of Sevika’s love languages is bringing you fresh vegetables and fruit she smuggled from overseas

seeing your eyes sparkle in delight as you eat the sweet fruits makes her love her shitty job a little more

she got your nickname “peach” because of your love of fruit (and your fat ass)

if there is a place on earth that can be considered hell is when your periods sync up. Both in pain and grumpy.

when it’s just you, she gives you princess treatment (more than usual). even going as far as making homemade soup

i believe Sevika doesn’t get her period as frequently as she used to. mainly thanks to the amount of Shimmer she uses

Shimmer is the reason you almost had a terrible fall out. it was doing your woman more harm than good. making her extremely aggressive to the point where she threw and broke the matching clay mugs you gave her as an anniversary present. you spent almost two months making them

all of this because you threw away her last Shimmer supply. you just couldn’t she her like that anymore

you sobbed as you collected the pieces of the floor. so preciously putting them on your lap as she just watched in horror. Sevika had never seen you so broken. What had she done?

Sevika kneeled in front of you trying to make everything right. picking up little colorful shards of the floor. but you pushed her onto her feet. you pointed at the door.

“Get out…”

“Peach, please I—“

“Get the fuck out Sevika!”

she spend the next few weeks crashing in Silco’s office. drinking her sorrows away. while going cold turkey of Shimmer

remembering your soft cheeks stained with tears and trembling shoulders. she never had seen you so angry

once she had the courage (and by that I mean Silco and Jinx kicking her out for beign love sick) to come back home, she didn’t grasp how much she actually needed your love

it was a positive sign that you let her in. like a silent “prove me wrong”

you made her sleep on the couch for weeks. ignoring all Sevika’s attempts of affection. walking away when she got too close, not drinking the coffee she made for you in the mornings, covering your body quickly whenever she walked into the bathroom after your showers

Janna, did she miss having your body on hers. having you cuddle her to sleep. now she is stuck in this ratty couch. she missed how you moaned, what you tasted like. Sevika was unbelievably horny

but she needed to wait for you to make the first move out of respect for the pain she caused

when she was sleeping on the sofa you woke her up by grinding your cunt on her thigh. only wearing your night robe. open in the middle, nipples hard and belly creasing on your pelvis. you placed her mechanical arm on your temple. cradling her metal palm with your lips

“Fuck me like you mean it, ‘vika! Make me your woman again.”

Sevika saw the fire in your eyes, and the burn was a prize she was willing to take

you kissed each other hard, clawing at clothing and skin. teeth clashing. every touch was personal. sensual. like a withered plant in water

even if the sun never warmed the underground it didn’t matter to her. because the sun couldn’t ever bring her life like you did

Sevika had never made love before. only saw sex as carnal lust. but having you vulnerable in front of her and having given her forgiveness was the best gift she could have asked for. the gift of hope and chance. she touched you like a lover, a soulmate.

you laid naked on her chest, blissed out in pleasure. in the afterglow of sex. Sevika groping the flesh of your ass. as she blew cigarette smoke into the air. you were going to complain about the smell in the morning.

“I quit Shimmer.”

you smiled into her exposed skin. Sevika was a blunt woman, and you appreciated that part of her.

“Good.”

“Love you, doll.”

“Mmmm — me too Sevika.”

and you definitely made her go to one of those pottery couples classes to replace the mugs she broke

Sevika wasn’t getting off thaaattt easy

[soulc-hilde]

You’re my Favorite

Pairing: Eminem x afab!reader

Warning: Implied smut, mentions of sexual intercourse, cursing, body shaming, fatphobia

Synopsis: Caught in the chaos of ’06, Marshall falls into bed with one of the most influential actresses of the decade. Despite his desire to let her in and know who Marshall Mathers is outside of the bedroom, his insecurities always seem. Chasing away the love of his life, eighteen years of loneliness darkens his soul until he makes a slip up in an interview.

Based off of this request – speaking of, if you wish to request work from writers (free work, at that) please do not move to another writer and make the same request unless the first writer denies you or completely ignores you. It’s a form of respect, a lot of us writers are adults with working lives, especially in America’s economy. Unfortunately, things are not going to be done in that second. If this happens again, I will simply deny the request and/or close my inbox and strictly do fanfic series. Please, respect your writers.

He silently watches her, nestled into his side, head resting on his chest with arms wrapped around his waist. She was beautiful. So, unconventionally beautiful which was a surprise as not many highly rated actresses such as herself were permitted such grace to keep their natural features.

As her eyes lock onto the action-packed scenes of Snakes on a Plane – a quick joke he made knowing that the poor woman hated seeing herself on camera, her palm absently rubs at his stomach.

His heart thumps, nearly dropping to his ass. Since the death of Deshaun, Marshall had took to the shadows, hiding away surrounded by food and drugs. The only thing that kept the rapper from facing malnourishment was his drug-infused munchies; however, there was a downfall to this.

The once lean man transformed into a round, depressed version of who he once was. His face was constantly flushed and blank.He was the epitome of heartache. Although, his new weight gain didn’t really put off the groupies.

There were some who chased after him just because of his wealth and others who did it as a joke, snorting to their friends whether ‘Fatty Shady’ was better than ‘Slim Shady.’ He wasn’t fazed at first, not at all; bitches will be bitches, he’d mutter to himself.

That was until he was to meet her at a restaurant for some quick lunch before heading back to his place. Arriving first, the Detroit native settled in the back of the dining floor in a booth, looking over the menu when a few waiters – just teenagers, kept pacing around his table with their indiscreet attempts at trying to confirm if he was the man in their heads.

One had raced back to the kitchen, shouting, “dude, Eminem’s here. Right now, he’s here in that last booth.”

The others lean out, eyes darting with excitement only to drop at the sight of the slumped over fat man in the booth.

“Man,” one of them scoffs, “that’s not Eminem. That’s just a fat man who looks like ‘em. Slim Shady’s skinny.”

Returning to their jobs, Marshall sits frozen behind the menu. His face screamed unbothered, but his heart shattered. He wasn’t too sure how much more he could take of this. Losing Proof, himself, hell, maybe his career – it was all just too much at once.

And yet, she seemed to make it better. Whether in public or in private, she never cared for the Eminem side of things, she wanted Marshall. When they undergo their sexcapades, she’d proudly praise his body with innocent kisses that were enough to send shivers down his spine.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he mutters, watching her snap out of her own little world.  She looks up at him with scrunched eyebrows, “do what?”

His shoulders rise, imitating that of a shy child. “Pretend like this is ideal. Like, like I’m the man that you dream of when you lay beside me.”

She shifts, leaning on her elbow. “Are you, are you saying that you’re not Marshall Mathers?” The woman feigns horror, bottom lip trembling in despair. “Are you a clone?”

She pauses, “my God, you’re a clone.” She leaps out of the bed, bare naked. She points a freshly manicured finger at him, shouting, “clone! Clone!”

The rapper bites back a laugh, shaking his head. He could’ve slept with anyone, any actress; he just had to choose the goofy one. Finding it impossible, he breaks into a laugh, tossing a pillow her way.

Regardless of how cool she appeared on camera; she lacked a lot of that appeal. She was a klutz and though she was more of the silent, observant kind, it wasn’t the sexy one. It was like that one kid in your school that didn’t fuck with anybody or anything, they were a ghost.

She misses it by a hair, the pillow crashes into her knee causing her to stumble with a laugh. “Shut up,” Marshall laugh. “I’m not no damn clone. Hell, that might be better than looking like this fat fuck.”

This time, she throws the pillow at him. The humor in her eyes has disappeared and instead, replaced with a somber glare. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you look,” she carefully scolds taking her place at his side once more.

“If you’re uncomfortable because you’re unhealthy, then that’s one thing, but being fat is not a bad thing nor is it unattractive.”

“You can stop fuckin’ lying to me,” he snarls, face burning with anger as his insecurities flush through his mind.

“No one’s lying to you, Marshall! Baby, you were handsome then and you’re handsome now. If you want to take care of yourself then so be it, but that doesn’t mean you have to harm your self-esteem.”

“Stop fucking lying to me,” he barks, “and just be honest. Can you really stand seeing my fat ass fucking you? You don’t ever stop and wonder if I’ll suffocate you? Is the dick that good or are you that much of a slut?”

“If I was such a fucking slut, Marshall, I would’ve already up and left months ago! Just admit that you care and we can go about this like fucking adults.” He continues to shake his head, “get the fuck out.”

But she keeps pushing. “You fucking care and that scares you, I get it, but that doesn’t make it right for you to fuck other people over.”

“Get out.”

“You’re so deep in your mind and the drugs that you forget that you still have family, people who care about you here and willing to support you! Don’t make Proof’s death into anything less than what it actually was. He died believing in you, wanting the best in you.”

“Get the fuck out!”

“You have daughters, waiting to see their father. Wanting more than just a few minutes of playtime, they want to be under you. They want to feel your presence, not gifts. Not texts or calls. They want you.”

“I swear to God, girl. If you don’t shut the fuck up!”

“I’m not gonna shut the fuck up! How about you act like a man!”

“Bitch, fuck you!”

“I love you!”

He glares at her, panting with blind rage. “I don’t. I never did. You ain’t shit to me, but another dick warmer. You ain’t shit to anybody in fucking Hollywood, but some fucking diversity hire with pretty tits and a fat ass. Maybe you should remember what you’re really here for.”

“You’re right. I’m the diversity eye-candy of Hollywood while you’re the drug addicted culture vulture. I guess we both forgot. I never wanna see you again.” He smirks, watching her storm around the room, dressing herself in a haste.

“Not a problem for me, baby. Not a problem at all.”

She storms out of the room without a look over shoulders. In contrast to his words, Marshall had a problem with this. He forces himself to watch her leave like several times before, playful kisses and phrases absent. As the front door closes, he collapse back into bed as sobs begin to rack his body.

-18 years later-

“It’s great to see you, Em, how’ve you been?” Sway asks. Marshall nods, “I’ve been good, man. Literally just working and spending some time with the family.”

The broadcaster nods, “I saw that. I saw Hailey’s wedding pictures on Instagram, congratulations. How does it feel now to see your little girl get swept up?”

“It fucking sucks,” he jokes as the Shade 45 crew laughs along. “Like, I did it before with Laney, cool. Cool, it stung like a bitch, but cool. Then Hailey comes through with her man and their engagement and I’m just like, what the fuck?! I knew I was getting old but shit man.”

Sway nods, “that’ll do it. At first, you know you’re aging, but when accolades are being accomplished then that’s when it really hits you.” As everyone else nods in agreement, he turns the conversation to a more professional piece.

“So, you put out Houdini for your Coup de Grace and it landed at number 2 on the Billboard Hot 100. Congratulations on that as well since that is the highest you’ve charted in the decade. What are your plans for the remainder of the year? Cause I know you have The Death of Slim Shady comin’ around, but do you also plan to make any public appearances, tours, or do you just wanna put the music out and chill in bed?”

“Cause you already did a surprise popout at a Detroit Concert Event, will there be anymore?”

Marshall shrugs, “the bed option honestly doesn’t sound bad at all. It’s one that I’d prefer, but fucking Paulina won’t let me. Instead, I’ll be in Texas this October to headline the Formula 1 Grand Prix Concert.”

“Oh, shit, really? That’s dope man.” Sway nods, “now are you big on racing? I’ve heard that it can be a crazy ass sport.” He shrugs, “kind of. Not into it as much as football, but I do look in here and there.”

“And there’s a list of other artists performing there as well?” Marshall nods, “yeah. I know Sting was confirmed to perform, I think the first night or the third because I’ll be the second. I’m not too sure who’s performing the first.”

A member of the crew leans over, “I believe it was y/n. Let me double check.” It was silent for a moment. Anticipation clutching at his chest, he leans forward with an interested gaze.

His face void of emotion, waiting for a solidified answer. He couldn’t understand if he saw this as a good thing, an opportunity to rekindle things or more so a badly moment of truth he wasn’t prepared for.

“Yes, it was confirmed last night that she’ll headline the first night.”

Sway looks back his way, “are you familiar with y/n?” The rapper nods, “uh, yeah. Yeah, I am, actually.” He gulps.

Marshall wasn’t one to prepare for an interview as he always knew what to say to keep things personal and who to give his time to. However, nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for questions about a lost love.

“We, uh, dated back in ‘06 for some months, I believe.” Sway’s eyebrows raise, “really?”

The former rapper may be a journalist, but he was an artist first who respected Marshall and vice versa. He knew the man basked privacy and wanted to be sure that this was the route he wanted to take.

“Yeah, we did. Things didn’t end well since, ya know, I was dealing with drugs and Proof’s passing. There’s not a lot of things or people I remember from back then, but she. She stays on my mind, always has.”

Sway leans toward him, whispering, “are you sure?” He nods, mouth drying.

“My comeback album, Relapse, in the song Beautiful… I’ve made a few references to her. Made it my moment to say things I couldn’t say to her face. Space Bound, Love the Way You Lie, and So Bad from Recovery were some, too.”

“Do you ever think that, maybe you’d want to see her again? Or is something of the past?” The rapper sighs, “I would prefer to see her again. Make amends, ya know. I see her in the media kicking ass, winning awards. I’m proud of her.”

Sway sends him a reassuring smile, “well, your folks at Shade 45 hope you two can make shit happen, man.”

—

If it was 2006 all over again, she’d swoon and make flirtatious quips at him through the media until he felt confident enough to approach her first. Unfortunately, she wasn’t that little girl again.

She has a couple years until she turned 50, two kids, a divorce under her belt, and a legacy. She no longer had time or the patience to paw at old flames, she wasn’t her ex-husband, for God’s sake. And yet, her heart pumped as if she ran a marathon all because the man who broke her heart eighteen years ago still loved her.

To make matters worse, the only way she had to contact him was through fucking social media. Did the old fuck even know how to operate the shit?

Great, so not only will she have to text him, but now take the chance of him not knowing how to reply. She knew her inability to live in peace was a forever thing, but the shit life throws at her is getting kind of ridiculous right now.

Um, I see you’re talking about me on the radio?

She hits send, fingers twitching with anxiety. She wasn’t some technical guru, but she wasn’t so out of touch to not understand that people take time to reply to things. However, this wasn’t a moment that deserved good virtue, so for fuck’s sake that dingy Midwest motherfucker better answer now.

Was it true? All of it?

She sends another text when a bubble appears, floating happily as it registers whatever the bullshit Marshall plans to spew. After a few minutes, the bubble has made itself at home and she was ready to gank the man by his neck through the damn phone.

Goddamn old man, don’t tell me arthritis got you? Long ass paragraph…

Doesn’t that mean you have a ghostwriter? Oh, scandalous

Finally, his reply comes in.

Shut up. And yes, I meant everything I said. Sorry, if you were uncomfortable.

She sits, staring at the screen in silence. Her fingers move faster than her mind could process.

It took you five minutes to text me that. FIVE MINUTES!

Shut up and just say that you’ll have dinner with me, tonight?

I’m in Charleston.

I’ll fly you out then.

I’m not one of your little sluts

Of course not, you’re my favorite. I’ll fly you out, tonight. Don’t bring anything but a change of clothes.

That’s why your dick’s small.

Tagged: @evasmlp

Sorry, it’s a day late and that it sucks! I fell asleep last night after writing the first portion, but I hope you like it

[lipglossanon]

Day 31

Kink: Free Use (reader)

Pairing: Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, stepdad!Leon, dirty talk, free use reader, teasing, edging, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, incest kink, oral (f & m receiving), titty fucking, window sex, nipple play

not proofread

This is the last fic of the month! Thank you all for joining me in this year’s Kinktober!! Kudos to those who liked/commented/reblogged and sent in asks! I appreciate it all! 💜 👻 🎃 Happy Halloween!!

You press your face against the window, breath fogging the glass as you peer out into the darkness. From the light behind you, you’re just barely able to catch a few snowflakes drifting with the wind. 

“Forecast said to stay indoors,” Leon moves to stand at your back, exuding warmth and blocking the light. “Sorry we won’t be back in time for your little Halloween party.”

You shrug, “Mom’s the one hosting it. I’m not too worried about it.”

“Does she know you’ll be stuck up here with your dear old stepdad?” He murmurs into your ear and you press the dough of your thighs together. 

You shake your head, words dying on your tongue when he slides his hands under your shirt to unclasp your bra. His palms smooth around your ribs to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples.

“I think now’s a perfect time to have a little fun, sweetheart,” his low smoky tone has your clit throbbing for attention. “Think it’s time you let me use you however and whenever I want.”

Relaxing back against him, you whine, hands reaching up to clasp around his neck. His fingers tug and pinch your nipples until your hips rock forward, cunt aching to be touched. 

“Daddy, please,” you tilt your head to look up at him. “Touch me.”

“Ah ah, that’s not how this works,” he chuckles, squeezing your breasts in his warm palms. “Gonna stuff this chubby pussy right here against the window.”

Gasping, you help him slip your shirt and bra off. He bats your hands away when you reach down to slip off your skirt and panties. 

“Leave’em on,” he murmurs, raising the back of your skirt up, pushing your underwear to the side. “Can fuck your hot cunt just like this.”

Whining, you try to brace against the windowsill as Leon notches his cock at your slick hole. You both moan when he pushes inside, inch after inch until his dick is completely buried in your pussy. 

“So tight,” he grunts, fingers digging into the fat of your hips. “G’nna pound this greedy pussy all night.”

More than your breath fogs the glass; now your body heat is leaving an impression. Your bare breasts squish against the icy glass and you whimper, nipples tightening further until they’re stiff and sensitive. 

His pace doesn’t slow down at all, hips pumping against your ass as he fucks you at his own leisure.  No matter how you beg and plead, he ignores your swollen clit and just concentrates on slipping in and out of your clenching heat.

You lose track of time, arousal making your brain mush as he seeks out his own pleasure and ignoring yours. It’s so hot, your pussy is soaking wet; you can hear him pull his cock free with a wet suctioning noise on every thrust. 

“Daddy, daddy, please,” you whine. 

He growls and spanks your ass, “Shut up and take it, little girl. About to breed you full.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you drool, face smushed against the glass. “Wan’ it.”

“Slut,” he laughs under his breath before groaning. 

He fucks into you a few more times before his pelvis presses tightly against your ass, cock throbbing as rope after rope of hot thick cum fills your pussy to the brim.

Your eyes roll back, “‘m so full, daddy, s’too much.”

“Nonsense, sweetheart, look at this greedy little pussy just gobbling it all up,” he chastises, pulling his cock out with a plap. 

He fixes your panties back in place and pats your ass, “Leave your shirt off, wanna be able to play with those tits whenever I want.”

Standing on shaky legs you nod, “‘kay.”

He guides you back over to the couch, “And no touching that wet needy cunt. Only daddy can make you cum.”

You whine and a short little slap to your tits draws you up short. 

“Behave,” his eyes narrow. “Or you won’t cum at all.”

“Okay, daddy,” you pout, cunt throbbing and hot. 

The rest of the night, Leon does his best to drive you insane with horniness. He bends you over the couch and spanks your pussy until you nearly cum, then fucks you rough and fast until he can pull out and jizz all over your ass. 

Later, he corners you on the stairs and fucks your tits, making you spit all over his cock so he can glide against your skin easier. When he finishes, he coats your face and mouth with thick ropes of his cum before wiping it off and feeding it to you. 

The final straw for you is when he tosses you down onto the kitchen table and eats your cunt like it’s his last meal. 

“Daddy, please, I need to cum,” you cry openly, tears dripping down your cheeks. “It hurts.”

“Aww,” he blows cool air across your soaked slit and you whine. “My sweet girl needs to cum?”

“Please, daddy, I need it so bad.”

“Well, if you need it,” he coos mockingly. 

Raising up, he grabs your thighs and yanks your ass down to the edge of the table. You squeal and wrap your hands around his biceps. Notching the head of his cock at your cunt, he wastes no time in bottoming out in your sopping wet hole. 

“Damn, you’re soaked,” he groans. “Little hole’s just made for daddy’s fat dick, isn’t she, baby?”

“Uh huh,” you scratch at his arms. “S’all daddy’s.”

“Yeah you are,” his eyes darken. “My sweet daughter’s soft chubby pussy’s just too good for daddy to leave alone.”

Shuddering, your legs wrap tightly around his waist, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, so good.”  

“You’re just a cockdrunk slut,” he chuckles in your ear and you keen. “Squeezing me so tight, you gonna cum, sweetheart?”

You nod wildly, hips bucking up against his thrusts, “Uh huh, ‘m so close.”

He slips his hand between your bodies and pinches your clit.

“Oh, this clit’s so swollen,” he licks across your ear and your body spasms. “So fat and sensitive, huh?”

 “Daddy, daddy, ‘m gonna cum, oh god, oh god,” you ramble, mind lost to the pleasure building higher and higher with every stroke of his cock and fingers. 

He says something else but it’s completely lost to you as your climax whites out your brain. Crying out, your back bows, body thrashing underneath his as your orgasm washes over you in waves. 

“Fuck, good girl, god, gonna cream your tight fucking pussy,” he groans brokenly, humping your pussy like crazy until he stills, shooting his load into your milking and clenching hole. 

You lay there together, breathing heavily as you get your heart rates back down. He pulls away with a soft grunt, cock sitting half hard against his thigh. Cum oozes from your puffy cunt and he dips his head down to lick your clit. 

“Ready for another round, sweetheart?”

[cute-sucker]

babysitting the sweetheart (part one-series)

[01.04.2024]

note: i wrote this a while ago, and it will be a series!! i have the plot figured out so it will be very very fluffy. (ask to be tagged btw!!) words: 1.3k summary: you're new to town, enjoying a coffee when rafe cameron's little daughter approaches you. you'll be fine...right?

part one

quite honestly going to the normal coffee place you went to every morning was supposed to be comforting. it wasn't supposed to be the place to be attacked by a 5 year old, and it was definitely not the place where you felt like you were going to die of fear. 

a very cute five-year-old at that, with pigtails and big blue eyes. she bounced up and down, with a big wobbly smile on her face. she had a pink princess dress on and a tiara that was bound to fall. 

you were mid-bite before she caught your hand. 

"can i have some? please, please, please," she pleaded to you. you choked on your hot coffee and watched struggle to her plop herself onto one of the high chairs. 

you searched for her parents, and then gave her a small tentative smile, before gently asking the question that was on your mind. 

"honey, where are your parents?" 

she quickly wilted, and you swore there were tears in her eyes, 

"i can't find my daddy. he told me not to go far but i didn't listen and now i might never find my daddy," she gasped out quickly. 

now you were alert, gritting your teeth and searching your surroundings. your few months in kildare had been nice, and it was the best place to rest and take some time off. but everything was so goddamn expensive. you'd never lived so lavishly, wearing the same clothes for weeks on end. 

this was supposed to be your new start, as you cleaned tables at night, and tried to write music during the day. you had always wanted to be an artist, and the beachy waves and cool lemonade persuaded you to continue. 

but with this little girl in front of you, you felt panicked. you turned around to look around once again before you set your eyes on her - she was sobbing, clutching her necklace that had the initial 'r,' on it. 

fat tears rolled down her face, and before you knew it you were carrying her off, embracing her in your arms and buying her two marshmallow cupcakes.

 honestly, the barista was nicer to her than he was ever nice to you. 

you made sure to tease him about that later, but now you had other things on your mind. 

"so what does he look like?" you asked her again. 

she pouted and let out a cry. then she got up, wiping her tears before stretching her arm in the air.

 "wee tall, and this big, and he's my daddy." 

"it's okay!" you said quickly, cursing yourself for asking the little five-year-old. "we'll find him, you couldn't have gone that far-" 

"wait! that's my daddy, it's him-" and then jumped out of his arm to the shadowy figure behind you. 

"i-" 

the figure picked her up, clutching her tightly. he was drop-dead gorgeous. you wondered how a man could be damn hot. with broad shoulders, dirty blonde buzzed hair and blue eyes that had an unhealthy hold on you. 

one, he was young to be a father, two he was pissed. 

the owner of the cafe suddenly burst out of the kitchen, "mr. cameron! what a delight to have you here. let me show you around-"

yet, he completely ignored him, kissing her daughter, and then looked up at you. he gave you a look that you'd given a mosquito.

"who the hell are you?" he seethed through gritted teeth, eyes set on your face. you felt beads of sweat drip down your forehead. okay, okay, calm down. 

"hey, listen-" 

"daddy!"

he stopped in his tracks, to look down at the little girl. he smiled at her softly, gently tracing her face. 

"hey love, where did you go? you know you should go off on your own," he told her gently, brushing away her stray hairs. he looked as if she was his whole world. she gave him a giddy smile and then pointed at the cupcake you had given you. 

her cheeks were full like chipmunks, and she looked way too adorable. 

"she saved me." 

suddenly he peered up at you, eyes squinted with an emotion you couldn't figure out. but then he went cold, giving you a small nod. 

you felt shivers travel all the way down to your spine. 

you felt like you should have known him because he had this aura. that he was important, and something in you wanted to please him. to make him happy, but you knew there was no winning with him. 

you were so lost in his eyes, that you noticed the strange look he was giving you. 

"thank you, ms-?" he prompted, his voice cold as ice. 

"uh, [last name]," you stammered out, feeling a bit off balance under his piercing gaze.

"well, thank you for looking after my daughter," he said, his voice softening slightly as he shifted his attention back to the little girl in his arms.

then he turned away, with his little girl nestled near his chest. while they turned around, she furiously waved at you, blowing air kisses. you found yourself smiling uncontrollably. 

your coffee was cold by the time you got to it. 

x

you scooted into your job, working at the local convenient job was embarrassing. it took hours for anything to happen, and the pay...

the pay was horrible! 

"it's time for your shift," jared commented, scrolling through his phone. he was a total tool who worked at the store to learn "life skills." his parents lived on figure eight, and were loaded. 

you trudged out there and found yourself at the cashier. 

"hi, ms. carrera!" you found yourself saying, serving your customers. 

the hours passed and you lay in the break room to rest. 

jared was still on his phone. here you were again, life sucked, and your phone was ringing. you got up, looking at the cracked screen. 

you had dropped it at least a million times. 

it was an unknown number, but who knew? you picked it up anyways. 

"hello?" 

"i'm going to pay you 10k a month." 

you stared dumbly into the phone and then started laughing. 

"uh huh, and get me the newest phone right?

"if that's what it takes." 

you found yourself giggling now, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you opened yourself some ice cream. 

"i'm sorry, who is this?" you asked while juggling your ice cream on your lap. you noticed that jared was watching you. 

"rafe cameron. you found my daughter the other day. i'd like to offer you a deal." he said, voice muffled. 

his tone was sharp was ever, but you could hear the knowing smirk, and that made you want to roll your eyes. but there was something about that low voice that made you shiver. 

"so...mr. cameron, what is 10k a month about?" you murmured into your phone and began to chip away at the ice cream. it was way cold, and your spoon nearly bent as you tried to scoop it into your mouth. 

"babysit my daughter lucy. if she's trouble, which i expect she will be," he laughed into the phone, "i'll double it." 

you could barely what you were hearing. he had to shitting you. 

"how about 15k and the phone?" you pressed, trying not to giggle. he was going to end the call now, you could feel it. 

"fine. i'll send the times and the address." 

it was here he hung the call. 

holy shit!

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Singer!Fem Reader

Summary: Venus goes on live after rehearsal and lets her fans take a glimpse into what her and Joe's nights together are like.

Chapter 24: Mr. Perfect

#Track9 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

TW: implied smut, language, haters.

WC: about 2k

Part 1 🖤

₊˚ପ ⊹ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ꕥ

@musicbyvenus has started an Instagram Live! Come join!

“Hello, all you beautiful people. How are my babes doing tonight? I haven’t done this in a hot minute, so be patient with me. I had a really long day and thought the best way to unwind would be for me to unload onto my darling fans.” The woman chuckled to herself while watching the viewer count grow by hundreds per minute.

Tell us all about your day bestie!

How are rehearsals going?

Are you gonna release the set list yet?

How’s Joe doing?

Where’s Joe?!?

“Wow these are coming in fast. I’m going to try and answer as many of your questions as possible, but thank you guys for just being here with me. I know I tend to go a bit awol with my public appearances, so I appreciate everyone here. Rehearsals are going great, I’m very happy with how the show is looking.”

 @MarsOfficial Im expecting a least two Hamilton songs while I’m in attendance 

“You always expect so much of me; you’re starting to sound like my mother, Y/Bff.”

@MarsOfficial then maybe you should start listening to me

A light-hearted giggle makes its way into the air as she reads her best friend’s comment. “I always listen to you!”

@MarsOfficial fat liesssss

“Y'all listen; the only reason I am in a relationship right now is because Y/Bff and Riana, two of my best friends, literally pushed us together. None of this would’ve happened without them.”

“What wouldn’t have happened without who?” A deep voice coming from behind her says.

OMG ITS JOEY

Joe said shit i have to work lol

PLEASE ASK HIM TO STAY

ON GOD HES SO HOT

I DON'T KNOW WHY I expected him to walk in shirtless, but I’m kinda disappointed 

IS HE COMING TO THE LA SHOW???

“I was talking about how we got together.” Y/n peaks behind herself to watch the quarterback snicker while fishing through their kitchen cabinets.

“Oh you mean when your friends pretended to be my ex to make you jealous? Yea they were a great help.” Joe rolled his eyes while grabbing a snack and a bottle of water. “I’ll have you know, I was fully capable of doing that on my own.”

@Riri.intl24 why is he lying, he had almost two years to make a move and DIDNT

“Riana begs to differ. Can you grab me-“ Y/n’s cut off by her own water and snack being dangled in front of her. “Thank you.”

WHAT A GENTLEMAN 

UGH I WANT ONE

IS THAT A CLIFF BAR

Y/n we’re judging you so hard right now

Joe takes a seat next to her but slightly out of camera. “Of course, and tell Riana I was trying to time it right.”

“Ok Mr. Time-Is-Of-The-Essence.” She smirked, then turned back to her phone. “Why are you people roasting my cliff bar?”

@MarsOfficial because you once said it tasted like good dirt then proceeded to inhale one

“I’m going to ignore that. Let’s answer some questions! Yes, Joey’s going to be at the LA show. I am not releasing the set list, but I do have an announcement regarding it. I’ve decided that my show will be about 2 hours long and each show will have 3-4 different surprise songs. I’m very excited about that. If yall have been keeping up on X, then you’d know the first show’s theme is ‘Slumber Party’. Unfortunately I can’t kick anyone out if they don’t dress up-“

ARE YOU ACTUALLY GOING TO PERFORM HAMILTON SONGS?

Is Walk Like This on the Set List

“Fantastic.”

THE NERVE

“You are not anyone, you have to dress up.” She pointed at the man.

YESSS SIS

You should bring him on stage with you!

WALK HIM LIKE A DOG

Joey shook his head and sighed, “I was joking babe, kinda.”

“Uh huh sureeee. Whoever asked about Walk Like This, this answer is 100%. I absolutely love that song and the choreo, ugh amazing. I can’t wait to perform it.”

What song is Joe most excited for?

What songs will you absolutely NOT be singing?

Is ‘The One’ on the no list?

“I don’t even have to ask him which one he wants to see the most. Joey?”

“Crazy for You.” He smiled.

“See, he’s extremely predictable.”

scripted

“Ok hold on, I also like what you did with Tell Me You Love Me.” He so kindly added.

“Why thank you kind sir.”

@lahjay10_ gross

We love a supportive boyfriend 

Husband Material

Get married please

ADOPT ME

Not all of Team Shiesty being in the comments

It's in their dating contract

“Yall are too funny.” Y/n looks over at Joe to see him with his head thrown back laughing. “What is it?”

“Your accent.” He coughed out.

“Joey, I don't have an accent.” She pouts.

Nahhh we know a southern belle when we hear one

Someone forgot she’s from Georgia

You’d think it’d get weaker the longer she stays up north

orrrr maybe she still has it because she doesn't actually live in Ohio

“Yes you do, but don’t worry I think it’s absolutely adorable.”

“I can’t with you.” She rolled her eyes, but the smile spreading across her cheeks told him otherwise.

@MarsOfficial I KNEW IT 

@MarsOfficial I knew he had a thing for your country shit

“Aight, we are getting off task! Is there a No list? Technically yes, but no ‘The One’ is not on it. And before any of you start, Joseph, please tell the people how you feel about ‘The One’ once and for all.” Y/n turns the phone so the fans have a full picture of him.

“I feel like people have been waiting and praying for this moment.” He chuckles brushing his fingers through his hair. 

CAUSE WE HAVEEEEE

TELL USSSS

WE NEED TO KNOW

He raises his right hand. “Ok, everyone listening. I, Joe Burrow of the Cincinnati Bengals.” 

“Oh my god.”

“I’m trying to deliver an address here, princess.” He said sternly. She pretended to zip her mouth shut and throw away the key.

Stop making me feel singleeee

“Ok where were we, right. I, Joe Burrow of the Cincinnati Bengals, solemnly swear that Track Nine is one of my actual favorite songs that Y/n has put out. Now all the commotion stops here, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.” As he finishes, they lock eyes and simultaneously burst into fits of laughter.

I knew it wasn’t that serious

We were clickbaited

THEY FOOLED US

Social Media is the devil

@MarsOfficial I tried to tell you

Her next project is gonna go so crazy

Hiiii from Canada

Instead of turning the phone back towards his girlfriend, Joey gently cuffs her waist and pulls her over to himself so she can continue her job. Then rests his hand over her shoulder.

Yoooo if you couldn’t see the height difference then, you def see it now🤭

Ugh they look so damn good together 

Yall should do an whole day in the life

What happened to not liking cameras Joey???

“Okay guys, I think I’m gonna take a few more questions then call it a night.”

Noooo

Has Joe seen the entire show?

Booooo

Yes get off so Joe can get off from work and see his real girl

European fans here!!!

What is your ideal date night?

“I know I know, but our dinner’s almost here so we gotta wrap this up. No, he has not seen the whole show. I need my man to be surprised too. More importantly, he has no clue how Crazy for Me is being set.” She smirked as she felt his hand move down to her thigh.

Oh they gon wrap something else up tonight too

“Oh but does my mind wonder.” He bites his lip, no longer able to pay attention to anything but the woman on his right.

Omg the sexual tension is brewing

His hand continues to stroke her thigh until his phone goes off. “Fuck, food’s here.” He gets up and rounds the couch, but before he completely passes her their dark eyes meet and he makes a quick stop. 

@MarsOfficial I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, they are literally CRAZY for each other

Dream vacation??

I’m sorry why can’t a man look at me like that

She was right about this not lasting very long

Shiiiiii I wonder how long HE lasts👀

@lahjay10_ yalls comments are getting out of hand

A strong but gentle hand lightly pulls her head back and they smile before he connects his lips to hers for a shy but sweet kiss, then he pecks her forehead and leaves the frame. 

AGAIN A MAN LIKE THAT PLEASE

GOD WHOEVER IS LISTENING THANK YOU

That looked mad forced

You make me feel so single🤧

If you weren’t famous, what would you be doing?

Y/n quickly clears her throat before looking back at her comments. 

@lahjay10_ oh god, get that off of my phone

She’s so flusteredddd

Girl we understand whewwww

“Uno, go away. Okay um, speed round. Dream vacation is definitely Greece. Ideal date night depends on how we’re feeling, but you can’t go wrong with a nice restaurant then coming home and getting in the hot tub. If I weren’t famous what would I be doing?”

Joe Burrow.

The man right behind you

That one Cincinnati quarterback maybe🤭

regular shit because they wouldn't even know each other

yall are unhinged 

Her eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend setting up their dinner. “Hmmmm yes to the first three.”

QUEEN

@Riri.intl24 Girl focus!

@MarsOfficial Ridiculous.

“Ok but for real if I wasn’t famous I guess I’d be trying to put myself through school.” She shrugged.

“Nope, you’d be in your residency program like you’re supposed to because I’d take care of everything. Now sign off of there so I can have my dessert.” He stated from the background.

“We didn’t order any dessert.”

Joe darkly smiled, “we didn’t have to. Everything I want is already here.”

HOT SHIT

OMG

thats so scripted🥱

I THREW THE PHONE

MSKSKFYCYHC

GIRL GO

“Fuck me.” She says under her breath, then reaches for her phone. 

“I’m trying.” 

SCREAMING

@lahjay10_ imma clown his ass for this so much

@MarsOfficial Venus you need to move faster

@Riri.intl24 Esa comida no se comerá pronto

(translation: that food is not getting eaten anytime soon)

“Jesus, bye babes. Love yall, and I can’t wait to meet you soon.” She stands, blows the camera a quick kiss, and turns off the phone.

As she walks toward the dining room, he meets her half way and backs her up against a wall. “Fucking finally, I’ve wanted you since I first walked in.” 

His hands go straight to her soft waist and his lips meet hers with an intense fervor. Breathless moans are smothered against his lips and her fingers tangle in his hair. “Wha-what about the food?” 

Joe grips her ass, his lips pull off of hers, and they begin to suck purple bruises on her neck and behind her ear. “You always say it tastes better after it's reheated anyway.” 

He pecks her lips and smiles at his handy work: her lips swollen and red, eyes burning with a dark desire, neck glistening with a shiny magenta hue and knees trembling from the pressure. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her face heats up as she takes in the sight of her lover with a matching set of glossy lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more than anything, and I’m about to show you exactly how much.” He smirks then throws her over his shoulder and takes off towards the bedroom. 

“Joey!”

₊˚ପ ⊹ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ꕥ

a/n: part two this weekend♡

<<< Ch. 23: Tour Countdown | Part Two >>>

[candycandy00]

My Sweet Pet - A Togame x Reader Fanfic

Togame ends up with a pet hybrid cat girl he never wanted. 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Hybrid AU. Togame is aged up (mid 20’s). Oral sex. First time sex. Reader has a prominent scar. Divider by @benkeibear! Any and all feedback is very appreciated!

Togame never wanted a hybrid pet. He’d seen the poor little things trailing along behind their owners, looking pitiful. He knew what they were used for, and just because they were literally created to be living sex toys, it didn’t make the situation feel any less gross. 

They were built a little smaller than normal adult human women, sporting cute ears and tails. He supposed he could see the appeal, but the idea of buying a woman just seemed wrong to him. 

Tonight as he’s walking home from the Ori, hands in the pockets of his Shishitoren jacket, he hears a small commotion coming from an alley. He stops and glances in the direction of the noise, blanching when he realizes the alley is right beside a hybrid Pet Shop. 

In the dim evening light, he sees a large man dragging a small woman with cat ears toward a van. She’s screaming, fighting with all her might to pull her little arm out of his grasp. Togame sighs. He knows how things work at these “shops”. He shouldn’t be shocked, and he shouldn’t get involved. But just then she looks up at him, and their eyes meet. 

“Please help me!” she cries, her pleading eyes full of tears. 

Fuck. How is he supposed to ignore this?

He walks over and grabs the man’s shoulder. “Hey. You’re hurting the lady. Could you ease up?”

The man turns to look at Togame, still tightly gripping the woman’s arm. He’s a big guy, a couple inches taller than even Togame’s considerable height, and bulky with a combination of fat and muscle. “Fuck off! This is none of your business!”

“Well, see, she asked for my help,” Togame says slowly with a casual tone. “That kinda makes it my business now.”

The man releases the woman so that he can focus on Togame. He draws back, raising his fist as he shouts, “I told you to fuck off!”

When the fist swings down, Togame catches it in midair, twists it while gripping the man’s forearm, and then uses it to throw the man to the ground. “And I told you to ease up,” he says, not even breaking a sweat. 

The woman with cat ears scurries over to Togame, hiding behind him as another man walks out of the shop and down the alley. 

“What the hell is going on?” the new arrival asks, looking from the man groaning on the ground to Togame. 

Togame feels the woman clutch his arm. Her hands are shaking. “I didn’t realize shops were so rough with hybrid women,” he says. 

The new man exhales. “We usually aren’t, but she’s a special case.”

Togame glances down at her. She looks up at him with those glistening, teary eyes. “Special how?” he asks, curious now. 

The man, who at least seems calmer and more reasonable than the one on the ground, gives the woman a pitying look. “We can’t sell her. She has an ugly scar on her body that makes her… undesirable.”

The woman seems to shrink at the words, looking at the ground as if in shame. 

The man goes on. “We tried to sell her, but no one wants her. I can’t keep feeding her forever, so I decided to put her down. That’s where we’re taking her.”

Togame feels disgust swirling in the pit of his stomach. They’re going to kill this woman because no one wants to fuck her? He never imagined things were this bad for hybrids. He looks down at her again, at her tear streaked face, her small, trembling hands clinging to his arm. 

Fuck. He never wanted a hybrid, never wanted anything to do with them. But he can’t just walk away from this. 

“How much is she?”

The man looks surprised. “You want her?”

Togame sighs again. “Just tell me the price.”

The man stares at the two of them, then shrugs. “If you’re willing to take her, you can have her for free. I’d have to pay to put her down anyway.”

“Guess I’ll take her then,” Togame says, looking down at his new pet again. 

She suddenly releases his arm and slips around in front of him, wrapping her arms around his torso in a soft but tight hug. 

Togame’s face turns pink. “Huh? What are you doing?”

Without answering, she breaks the hug, reaches down and takes hold of his hand, then pulls it to her mouth. He’s too confused to pull away before she opens her mouth and bites him. It’s not a hard bite, barely breaking the skin, but it does surprise him enough to make him jerk his hand out of her grasp. 

She looks up at him, a disappointed expression on her face. Togame looks from her to the shop owner. “Uh, is it normal for her to bite?”

The owner chuckles. “You don’t know anything about hybrids, do you? She just imprinted on you.”

Togame examines the faint teeth marks on his hand. “What does that mean?”

The owner shakes his head. “I don’t have time to explain everything. Look it up online.” Then he turns and walks back toward the entrance of the store.

Togame looks at his pet. “Are you gonna explain?”

She shakes her head, looking at the ground shyly, her face flushed with embarrassment. He hasn’t heard her speak since she asked for help. If not for that, he’d think she’s mute. Maybe hybrids just don’t talk much. 

“Guess I’ll just Google it,” he says, then he starts to walk out of the alley. “Come on, I’ll take you to my place for now.”

She follows after him, and for the first time he notices her tail, swishing excitedly behind her, the same color as her ears and hair. 

“I’m Togame, by the way. Togame Jo,” he tells her. She nods, but doesn’t offer her name. Does she even have one? Is he supposed to name her?

As they walk down the street, Togame pulls out his phone and begins reading about hybrids and what “imprinting” means. 

“Hybrids typically imprint on their owners within three to five days after being purchased,” one website says. “Once a hybrid imprints on someone, they feel an emotion much like intense romantic love for that person. They also feel extreme sexual arousal while in the presence of the human they imprinted upon.”

Togame stops reading and glances to the side, where the woman is walking next to him. She’s staring at him with glassy eyes, her lips parted, a blush on her cheeks. Holy shit, is she turned on right now? He feels his own face getting warm under her lusty gaze, not sure how to deal with this situation. 

Looking back at his phone, he continues silently reading about imprinting. 

“To complete the imprinting process, the human owner must bite the hybrid in return. Until then, the hybrid will feel uneasy and insecure. Some owners intentionally refuse to complete the process to keep their pet in this state, desperate to earn their owner’s love.”

That sounds cruel, but Togame isn’t sure he wants to complete the process. He tries looking up how to break the imprinting, but all the sources he finds suggest that is a very bad idea and would cause psychological harm to the hybrid. Ah well, he can decide a little later, after doing more research. 

There’s something else he reads about the care of hybrids: “Since they are genetically engineered to please their owners sexually, most hybrids use sexuality to communicate their feelings. Rejecting their advances will make them feel that you are rejecting their feelings.”

He shoves his phone into his pocket, wondering again how he’s going to navigate such a troublesome situation. 

**************************

You follow your first ever owner home, eager to find out where you’ll be living from now on. Just minutes ago, you were about to be killed. Even before that, you had resigned yourself to never being bought and spending the rest of your life in a tiny cage. Though the idea of being owned by a stranger, forced to do whatever he wants, was terrifying, a lifetime in the cage was even scarier. 

But now you can’t believe your luck. Not only were you finally bought, escaping death in the process, but your owner is kind! He saved you when he could have simply ignored you. On top of that, he’s incredibly handsome. 

You watch his tall figure walking beside you, a little bit further ahead. With his long legs, he could easily leave you behind without even noticing, but he’s considerate enough to keep pace with you. 

It’s no exaggeration to say you’ve never seen a human man so beautiful. You really didn’t even have to imprint on him to fall in love and be attracted to him, but the urge had been so strong in that moment, you couldn’t resist. You want nothing more than for him to complete the process. 

There’s just one thing worrying you. He hasn’t seen your scar. He was told about it, but that’s not the same as seeing it for himself. Maybe you can keep most of your clothes on, even when pleasing him, at least until he completes the imprinting. 

The two of you arrive at a tall building and climb stairs to reach the third floor. You haven’t been out in the city since you were a kitten, when they took groups of you out to learn about the outside world. But you remember buildings like these, called apartments. 

He stops in front of one of the doors, unlocks it, and steps in, motioning for you to follow. With a bit of excitement and a bit of anxiety, you go inside. 

The apartment is small, but cozy. He shows you around, giving you the very brief tour of the living room, tiny kitchen, bathroom, and single bedroom. 

“It’s not much,” he says. 

“It’s bigger than my cage,” you tell him. He looks surprised to hear your voice. You’ve always been quiet, not liking to talk much to people you don’t know. But this is your owner. You’re going to know each other intimately. 

The thought has you squeezing your thighs together. From the moment you bit him and began the imprint, you’ve felt a burning desire for him. It started out fairly weak, but has grown in intensity with each passing moment. Right now, you want to feel his big, strong hands on you, to have him climb on top of you. But you’re too shy to initiate anything. You’ve never had an owner before, so your knowledge of sex comes only from the videos they had you and the others watch. You didn’t realize arousal could be so powerful. 

You really hope he wants to enjoy his new pet tonight. 

When he shows you the bathroom, he awkwardly rubs the back of his head, messing up his wavy black hair. “You can take a shower if you want.”

Oh! Maybe he wants you to be nice and clean before he touches you. “Thanks,” you say, stepping over to the shower and looking at his bottles of shampoo and soap. 

“I’ll find something for you to wear while I wash your clothes,” he says before leaving the room. When he returns, he’s carrying a few towels and a folded shirt. “You can wear one of my tshirts for now. I know it’s too big but we’ll buy something for you tomorrow.”

You take the bundle of items into your arms, thanking him again. He shows you how the knobs work and then steps out, shutting the door behind him. 

After waiting a few seconds to make sure he’s not coming back in, you strip off your clothes and turn the hot water on. After climbing in, you realize the water isn’t hitting your head. You look up to see that the shower is angled too high, pointing at the wall. Oh. It’s because Togame is so tall, over a foot taller than you. 

You reach up to change the angle, but the sprayer is out of your reach. You try jumping, but you still can’t touch it. That’s when you notice the small plastic stool in the corner with soap sitting on it. You move the bottles, position the stool beneath the shower head, and carefully climb up.  

***************************

Togame is sitting in his small living room, drinking a bottle of soda as he flips through the channels on his tv. His mind is elsewhere though, still trying to figure out what he’s going to do with the woman in his shower. 

He needs to look online for the safest, kindest way to release a hybrid pet. Are there shelters for them? Places that take care of them? Above all, he doesn’t want her to end up handed over to some perverted asshole who would do unspeakable things to her. 

Of course he’s noticed that she’s attractive. He’s human after all, and she was biologically designed to be sexually appealing. He sighs again, turning the tv off. 

Just then he hears a shriek coming from the bathroom, followed by a crashing thump. He jumps up and runs to the bathroom door, banging on it as he calls out, “Are you okay?!”

When no answer comes, he flings the door open. If she’s fallen and hurt herself, she might be unconscious! He hurries to the shower and jerks the thin curtain back, only to find his new pet on her back on the floor of the shower, wet, stark naked, and sprawled out. She’s groaning and holding a hand to her head. 

He quickly averts his eyes. “Uh, are you hurt?”

She apparently notices him then, as she rolls over to her side, her back to him, and curls in on herself. “Don’t look!” she cries, her voice even more desperate than when she asked for his help. “Please don’t look!”

He tries not to, but he can’t help seeing the way she’s curled up, shaking under the water. He turns his back to her. “I’m not looking! I just heard you fall and was afraid you got hurt.”

“Don’t look, don’t look,” she’s muttering, then finally says, “Don’t look at my scar!”

Oh. The scar. He saw it of course. It was hard not to. A very large, prominent burn scar stretched from the front of her stomach to her right hip. 

He peels off his jacket and turns to face her, quickly draping the jacket over her trembling form. He could deny seeing it, but he feels like that would only let her anxiety about it build. He remembers what the shop owner told him, that no one had bought her because of the scar. That must have made her feel terrible 

“It’s okay,” he says as she looks up at him, her hands pulling the jacket tighter around herself. “I already saw it, and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Her eyes widen. “No! It’s ugly! Please don’t take me back! I’ll keep it hidden!”

Togame squats down to her level, looking her in the eyes. “It’s not ugly. It just shows that something terrible happened to you and you were strong enough to survive it. That’s beautiful.”

Tears fill her eyes, and suddenly she hugs him again. He pats her head, not sure how else to react to his affectionate little pet. 

Eventually she disentangles herself, and he stands back up before helping her to her feet. “I’ll go back out until you’re finished,” he tells her, then goes back to the living room. 

When she emerges later, she’s wearing a white T-shirt of his that dwarfs her small frame. The collar is practically slipping off one shoulder, and it occurs to him that she had no underwear to change into, so there’s nothing beneath the baggy shirt. He tries to avoid thinking too much about it as he collects her dirty laundry and puts it in the small washer that stands outside the bathroom. 

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he asks as he walks back into the living room. She’s sitting on the floor, on a cushion, her plump, bare legs curved up beside her. 

“Not hungry,” she says. “A little thirsty.”

He walks over to the fridge. In this tiny apartment, the living room and kitchen are practically one room. “Do you like ramune? I have water too.”

“What’s ramune?”

He looks up sharply. “You’ve never tried ramune?”

She shakes her head. 

He pulls a strawberry flavored one from the fridge and opens it for her. “Here, try it,” he says, reaching her the frosty glass bottle. 

She takes it, examining it closely. She even sniffs it. “Why are there bubbles in it?”

Togame grins. “Just try it. Trust me, it’s good.”

She lifts the bottle to her lips and takes a small sip. Then quickly takes another. She looks up at him with shining eyes. “This is delicious!”

He laughs. “See? I told you so! I have other flavors you can try too.”

At that moment, she smiles for the first time, bright as the sun. Togame feels his heart skip a beat as she happily drinks the soda. 

Afterwards, they’re both sitting on the floor, drinks finished, her hair nearly dry, when she crawls closer to him. She’s blushing, her eyes slightly glazed as she says, “Thank you for saving me, Master.”

“Please don’t call me that,” Togame says, giving her an uneasy smile. “Just Jo is fine.”

“Jo,” she says, as if testing how the name feels on her tongue. “Jo,” she says again, almost a purr, making him turn slightly red. “Will you complete the imprinting? Please?” She’s so close now, she’s practically in his lap, on her hands and knees. The oversized collar of his shirt is draping down, and he can see her soft tits through the gap, making him hyper aware of how little there is between him and her naked body. 

He swallows. “Uh, I need to think about it.”

She looks up at him with those big, adoring eyes. “Don’t you like me?”

He wants to look away from her, but he can’t pry his eyes away. “It’s not about whether I like you or not. I just…”

His voice trails off as she leans forward, nuzzling his abdomen with her face, slowly moving down. “Can I try to please you, Jo?”

The way she says his name, with such reverence, is making him feel heated. Her face moves lower, now brushing over his crotch. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, using all the willpower he has. 

She looks up into his eyes. “But I want to! I want to please you more than anything!”

His heart is beating faster. “That’s just because you imprinted on me, right?”

She shakes her head, and her face grazes over his rapidly hardening cock. “I imprinted on you because I feel this way. Not the other way around. So please?”

Ah, fuck. How is he supposed to resist a sexy little hybrid nestled between his legs, begging to suck him off? He doesn’t want to take advantage of her, but if what he read online was true, rejecting her might actually hurt her psychologically. 

Fuck it. 

“If you really want to, go ahead,” he says. 

Her eyes light up. “Thank you!” she says, as if he gave her a present. Then her warm little hands are tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling it down to reveal his erection. She blinks. “It’s already hard. And it’s so big!”

Togame looks away awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s beautiful,” she says, wrapping her fingers around it as much as she can. “Like you.”

His face is getting hot. He’s never been called beautiful before, and it’s a strange feeling. Between his thighs, his pet extends her tongue and licks the tip of his cock. She lets her spit coat him as she keeps licking, running her tongue along his length for a few moments before taking half his cock into her hot mouth. Can she even fit any more than that? 

He can feel her throat, and then it seems to open up as she relaxes it and pushes him in deeper. Oh shit, he’s going down her tight little throat! She’s gagging around him, but keeping her composure, using her tongue to swirl around him. 

“Have you done this before?” he asks, remembering that he’s her first owner. 

She pulls away and looks up at him. “No, but they showed us videos so we would know what to do.”

As she takes him back down her throat, he groans and says, “You must have paid attention.”

Her mouth feels incredible, far better than any other blowjob he’s ever had. Then he remembers something else he read online, something he mostly skimmed over at the time. Hybrids’ entire bodies are designed to give maximum pleasure to their owners. Even their saliva has something in it to increase pleasure, and… their saliva also acts as a powerful aphrodisiac. 

Togame watches her suck his cock, his own arousal growing even stronger than he ever thought possible. Fuck, he’s gonna lose control here! 

He holds out as long as he can, even closing his eyes to block out the sight of her pretty face stuffed full of him. But that only emphasizes the wet, slurpy sounds she’s making, the little “mmm”’s of pleasure from her. But eventually, he can hold back no longer. He groans loudly as his hand flies to her hair, holding her head steady as he cums down her throat. 

She swallows it all gratefully, and when finished she pulls away for a moment before she begins to diligently clean his cock with her tongue. 

Togame stops her, taking hold of her arm, pulling her up and into his lap, so that she’s straddling him. His hands move to her hips, then slide up beneath the T-shirt. 

She grabs the hem of the shirt and pulls it down, looking panicked and shy. “M-my scar…”

“I told you, it’s beautiful,” he says, edging the shirt back up slowly. “Don’t hide something so special from me.”

She releases the shirt, letting him pull it up and over her head, leaving her totally bare in his lap. Whatever was in her saliva to get him turned on was strong stuff. He’s hard as a rock again already, and he feels an intense hunger for her like nothing he’s ever known before. 

He moves one hand down, slipping it between her plush, slightly spread thighs. She gasps as his fingers rub up and down her slit, feeling how wet and slick she is. She’s breathing hard and fast, her shaky hands on his shoulders. As he presses one finger in to stroke her tender, swollen clit, he says, “If I don’t fuck this wet little pussy, I’m gonna go crazy.”

************************

All your life, you were told your purpose is to please your future owners, whoever they might be. You were designed for it, were taught exactly what to do to bring pleasure to your human. At no point were you told anything about your own pleasure. It was irrelevant. 

So you had no idea your own body could feel so good. Jo’s fingers rubbing the little nub between your folds is sending shockwaves of pleasure through your whole body, making you release mewling cries, your eyes tearing up, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you bury your face in his neck. Your body is trembling, your needy pussy clenching around nothing. 

You want him. You wanted him even before you bit him. You never thought your own desires mattered, your own preferences in human men. But now you belong to a man who is everything you ever wanted. If only he would bite you back and complete the imprinting. 

His fingers move a little faster, a little harder, and your body jerks. You cum for the first time, clinging to him as you cry out. 

You barely have a moment to pant in his lap before he shifts on the floor, pressing you onto your back in front of him. You squeak in surprise as he hovers over you. He’s so tall, so much bigger than you.

With one hand he gently rubs over your scar, making you flinch. You still can’t believe he finds it beautiful, and having him touch it scares you. What if he decides it’s ugly after all? What if he doesn’t want you anymore? But he bends down and presses his lips to the scar, kissing it in several different places. You draw in a sharp breath, tears in your eyes again, overwhelmed by the love you already feel for this man. 

He smiles up at you, then he lifts your legs, placing them on his shoulders, folding you in half. 

You stare up into his lovely green eyes as he presses his cock into your dripping virgin pussy. He goes slowly, carefully, but you can see the strain on his face. He wants to shove in fast and hard, wants to fuck you wildly. He’s too kind for that, taking his time and making sure you’re not hurt. It’s your first time after all. You smile up at him, even as you feel the first stings of your hole stretching to accommodate him. 

“You can go faster,” you say, trying not to wince. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Really?” he asks, then going just a little faster after you nod. 

It hurts a little, but you want him to feel good, to enjoy your body however he sees fit as your beloved owner. Still, he remains careful, watching your expression, and your love for him only grows. 

He gives a few shallow thrusts, and when you moan in response, he goes deeper. 

“You feel so good,” he says, leaning down to kiss your lips. You clench tightly around him, excited by his affection. You want more of it, more kisses, more touches. You want his love. 

A small shudder rips through him. “Fuck, if you keep squeezing me like that, I won’t be able to hold back!”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to hold back,” you tell him, locking him in your adoring gaze. “I want all of you!”

He grunts as he shoves in deeper, probably harder than he intended, but his self control is clearly slipping. He begins thrusting all the way in, with slow, languid, impossibly deep motions. You cry out, tightening your arms around his neck, and he kisses you again, one of his hands moving to stroke your hair soothingly. 

“Ahh… Jo!” you cry as his thrusts pick up speed. He’s holding you so tenderly as he begins to pound into you. “Jo… I love you! Please… please love me!”

His eyes widen as he looks down at you, his cheeks going pink. For a moment he just stares at your face while he fucks you, hitting a spot within you that has you moaning. Then, all at once, he bends down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. It’s not a hard bite, just enough to draw a tiny drop of blood. 

Enough to complete the imprinting. 

Your eyes fly open, your body responding immediately. Starting the imprinting process makes you feel love and arousal for him, but when it’s completed, those feelings grow wildly in intensity. You cum on the spot, nearly sobbing as all these sensations overtake you. 

Jo holds you firmly in his embrace, waiting for you to ride out your high before he releases the bite. Then he locks eyes with you as he plunges in deeper than ever before, his body going rigid as he groans. You feel his hot cum shoot into you in thick spurts, and you know he’s now claimed you as his own. 

The two of you lie there on the floor for a while after, you curled up in his arms. You look up at him. “Thank you, Jo.”

“Hmm? What for this time?” he asks, a lazy smile on his face. 

“For making me yours.”

He laughs breezily. “More like you made me yours.”

You grin, your face pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You’re finally content, knowing the two of you belong to each other. 

[wraithdance]

The Five Year Plan | Gaz x Reader

Synopsis: When your fiancé breaks up with you, you start to question your timeline; who needs a man when you can have a baby yourself? Who better to ask for help on creating one than your arch-nemesis Kyle Garrick?

Note: F!Reader, Fat/Plus sized Reader, Reader is implied to be Black but can be read as WoC Content warning: babies, toxic aunties, some comments that can be taken as fatphobic, food restriction mentions, allusions to postpartum depression, arranged marriages mention (not reader related), age gap mentions (not reader related), no mature content, this is a prologue and reader will be a minor, you can skip this and wait for the first part if it's not your thing, it won't impact your reading <3

Part one: The Checklist

Babies were... odd. You frown around the cake stuffed in your cheeks, taking in the little human who's apparently your new cousin.

The tiny bundle of wrinkles is emitting the loudest shrieks known to man and smells absolutely awful. 

Stranger still is the circle of clucking adults surrounding said bundle. They are keen to ignore the child's obvious distress and coo-ing some mashup of baby talk and moans in sequence. Really, it's what you can only call synchronized possession.

You'd seen it happen at church once. A few women from the congregation had fallen over each other during the pastor's sermon, speaking in tongues. Your friend Blue and you had cackled uncontrollably when Mrs. Abrams swung her wig around in a circle. Your mother had been absolutely livid and banned you from attending with Blue anymore. But you hadn't minded because Blue's mother had wanted her to attend mosque anyways.

You take another bite of the cake and meet eyes with your mother at the center of the hub bub. She's giving you a pinched expression, one you're very familiar with.

'No more sweets' she mouths pointing for you to put your saucer down. You roll your eyes and stuff the remaining portion down in rebellion, much to her ire. You’d hear about it later but for now she’s holding court as the head baby whisperer and you’re free to do as you please.

Having enough of the chatter you hop down from your seat on the chaise lounge and deign yourself to wander about your uncle's house. Sometimes being the only child in the family was fun. It meant Christmas and birthdays were all about you and you always got your own room. You'd visited Blue once with her six brothers and sisters and nearly had a conniption. Poor girl would never have a moment of peace.

Other times being the only child is suffocating. You can never really get away with hearing a lecture from the old people the second you make a mistake.

'Why are your grades like that?'

'Nice girls don't sit like that, cross your legs.'

'You're getting round around the middle, you know, how will you find a husband when you're older?'

You snorted at that one. You were twelve, who thought about a husband at this age?

Hopefully you didn't have to wait for your cousin to get older to get some slack.

You're taking a peak at the boiling pot of rice and stew on the stove when you hear sniffles. Strangely, they're coming from the laundry in the hallway. You replace the lid and carefully set the big spoon back atop in the position it'd been in previously. Your mother was like a hawk and oddly hyper perceptive about her food. She'd notice the slightest difference in the way she'd left things and immediately assume you were the culprit.

You tiptoe around the corner to make sure the adults were still preoccupied with the baby before shuffling to the laundry door. You can't see anything in the cracks but you can definitely hear the sound of muffled crying. Carefully you slide the doors on the track allowing some of the light in the kitchen to shine though. Your Aunt snaps her head to the opening with wide eyes. Her hair is haggard and she’s seated on the floor surrounded by piles of clothes.

Right... probably odder than the baby.

She looks at you and you at her. She seems to realize you are alone and makes a sound. Quick as a whip she's grabbing your wrist and yanking you inside the room with her. With a snap the door is closed behind you. It takes a moment to adjust to the low lighting and when you do you take in the downtrodden woman. She's not related to you by blood, she'd married your mothers older brother nearly a year ago. You'd been allowed to attend the wedding and had been a little caught off guard by how sad she'd seemed.

She'd barely looked up when the officiant had her and your uncle recite their vows. You'd looked around the room, curious that you were the only one even remotely concerned.

You'd asked your mother about it on the way home. She'd said that your new aunt was from the old country and had moved alone to Britain for the arranged marriage. That had lead to more questions. You couldn't fathom the thought of marrying a stranger, much less someone as ancient as your Uncle. He had to be a lot older than your father and you had said so to your mother. She'd gotten upset and told you to be quiet, refusing to tell you how old your new aunt was in comparison.

With that in mind you settle on the floor near the other woman. She's still crying softly, not bothering to wipe the tears as they fall to her stained t-shirt. You reach your hand out to rub hers in what you hope is comfort. It's what your father did for you when you've got the flu or you'd just made yourself sick on candies. Your fingers trace the umber henna designs on her wrists and you think she finds comfort in it as her cries lessen eventually.

"How old are you auntie?" you whisper.

She looks confused and shakes her head not understanding. You hadn't considered there would be a language barrier, but you suppose that makes sense she'd never responded to your chattering the rare times your uncle let you visit. Racking your mind you remember the passing comment your mother had made about your new auntie having worked as an au pair in France previously. So you ask again this time pointing to yourself and showing her ten fingers then two just in case your dialect was off. She understands and responds with two fingers and then two more.

You blanch and she laughs.

Ten years older than you with a newborn baby at that. It was unfathomable to you. In ten years you want to be wearing really nice pants suits like Olivia Pope (the rare times mother let you watch Scandal with her you'd sighed in absolute envy, oh to have a cape!) and eating all the sweets you want.

You frowned remembering that your cousin was still being held hostage in the sitting room. You ask her about it and the smile she wore fell just as quickly as it came.

So you weren't the only one not totally elated about the new member of the family. It does confuse you a bit.

You thought mums were supposed to be happy about babies. Your own keeps droning on and on about how many grandchildren she expects to have.

(Which is strange considering you haven't even been in snogging distance of a singular human boy in your life.)

You stand up and dust off your knees. Your auntie looks sad, then confused when you extend a hand to help her up. You absolutely refuse to go back out there alone and she would be your comrade against the baby fever. You're happy she follows your lead into the sitting room.

The other women immediately stop fussing over the baby to shout praises and 'There you are's.' Your auntie stiffens and tightens her hands around yours. You think you're both equally taken by surprise at the reception considering family holidays are usually spent with you and auntie being ignored during the goings on. You'd figured she'd just been shy like Blue sometimes was but you consider that the older women left her out on purpose.

You look at her seeing her tired, sad eyes and drooped shoulders in a new light. The older women fuss over her and tug at her stained clothes and tangled hair. When Auntie tries to reach for the baby your mother pulls back with a laugh, telling her to go change first. She still doesn't return the baby when auntie does just that. It makes you mad and you tell your mother she's being rude. She hushed you nervously looking at the other women who make pursed lips at your audacity and cut their eyes.

For the rest of the night Auntie sits in the circle of women as they cluck. Then eventually across from you at dinner with her hands tight in her lap. You feel sorry for her and when you can you sneak her pieces of cake across the table.

It's the only time her eyes light up.

You thought being an only child was awful with all its attention. But it couldn't be worse than being invisible in a foreign land with people who only greet you when you finally have a baby.

Before you leave with your mother, Auntie stops you. She pats your chubby cheeks and smiles at your look of confusion when she slips one of her gold bangles onto your arm. It's too big even with your extra fluff, but it's beautiful and intricate. She leans to give you a kiss and she smells like baby formula and spices. You thank her with a tight hug, hoping you could channel love and well wishes right into her for strength. 

Your mother was too pumped up about the new addition to the family to lay into you about your many blunders on the drive home. She rains praise on Auntie bringing in such a beautiful baby and how many you think your uncle will want. 

After everything you witnessed with auntie you're conflicted. You knew your mother had a checklist of things she wanted for your life and marriage and a baby were one of them. You can’t help but wonder if growing up and having a child is the only way to get positive attention from your family.

If that was the case you don’t know if you want one at all.

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[boxofbonesfic]

omg i would love a dark!Peter or a Ransom prompt 👀 it can just be an idea, or a specific scene or scenario, whatever strikes your fancy 💖

Ok! Ransom x plus size reader: college au, fwb. Ransom doesn't want to be seen with her cause she's fat and she's cool with it cause she's literally just here for the d while she gets her degree right? Ransom's an ass but that dick is bomb and no feelings are involved so perfect. But then Ransom gets addicted to the p and wants her all to himself, still on the dl tho. His changing feelings don't come out till she meets someone and breaks it off with Ransom. Reader doesn't think anything of it but Ransom COMPLETELY loses his mind and starts stalking her, blowing up her phone, etc. Not caring if everyone knows now. Reader is CONFUSED and MIFFED!

Title: Breaking

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 5,374

Summary: Ransom wasn’t eager to stake any sort of claim on you—until someone else does it first.

Warnings: College AU, Stalking, Kidnapping, Darkfic, Plus Size Reader, Manipulation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, MINORS DNI!

A/N: thank you so much for this lovely prompt! i really hope you enjoy this little ficlet. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

Ransom had found it kind of funny at first, when you’d stopped responding to his rather crassly worded “U up?” texts. It wasn’t until the third text in half as many weeks had gone completely unanswered that he’d tried calling instead—and found you had blocked him completely. 

What?

That wasn’t like you. Not like Ransom had taken time to really know you, but ghosting just didn’t seem like it belonged in your playbook.

“The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please contact your service provider if you believe you have reached this message in error.”

It had taken a little finesse, Ransom laying the charm rather thickly on your friend in his business management class, the one whose name he could never remember. 

“She has a boyfriend,” she’d said, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger with a nervous giggle. “But I’m, um, single.”

Which brings him to now.

You weren’t the sort of girl he usually took out on dates, and, looking back on it, you’d picked it up rather quickly. Your requests to meet at parties or the bars his frat brothers regularly visited were answered with vague no’s. Or, more often than not, ignored outright until you stopped sending them. It wasn’t your fault—he had a reputation to think about. Though tonight, ironically, his reputation is the furthest thing from his mind. 

What is on his mind, is you. 

Ransom’s lip curls as he watches Isaac drape an arm across your shoulders, squeeing affectionately. He doesn’t know him well—they haven’t spoken much beyond the idle chit-chat around the keg. It turns his stomach, the thought that he’d finally realized just how much you meant to him, only to have this—this boy-scout steal you from right under his nose. Out from his fucking bed. 

Ransom isn’t used to coming in second place. It’s never happened before, losing something he actually wants. Isaac seems happy to be next to you, not embarrassed or hiding behind baseball caps and wide sunglasses. Not like Ransom. He’s angry—at you, a little, but mostly at himself. It’s not hard to recall how you felt underneath him, all soft skin, soft curves, and fuck. He hates himself for not savoring that last time more, for not knowing it was going to be the last time. 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Ransom Drysdale didn’t get dumped—he was the one who did the dumping. And, he, thinks with no small amount of derision as he watches you from across the bar, I didn’t get dumped. We were never together. You can’t break up if you’re not together. The thought rings hollow even in his own head as he nurses his fifth beer of the night. It feels stupid-no, superficial, now; the way he’d only drop by your dorm-room after midnight, showing up without calling or texting and knowing full well that you would let him in. 

But not anymore. 

You’re too far away for him to hear it, but when you laugh, you tilt your head back, attempting to cover your wide grin with one hand. Pretty, he thins to himself, taking another long swallow from the bottle. Fuck how had he not noticed how pretty you are when you laugh, before? Had he just never seen it? Now that it occurs to him, Ransom’s hard pressed to find a memory that isn’t just sweaty skin, and hungry words growled into the curls at the nape of your neck.�� 

Fuck.  

Those were his favorite nights, the ones he spent digging his fingers into the softness of your hips while he sank in to the hilt—Ransom shudders. Even through the condoms you insisted he wear, the memory of your slick, tight heat is enough to send a hot, jealous pulse through his veins. 

“We’re not together,” you’d said, crossing your arms stoutly as you stared up at him. “Condom or nothing.”

Probably doesn’t make Isaac wear a fucking condom. He takes another bitter swallow. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the thought of you fucking that Leave it To Beaver reject, or you fucking him raw. Both make him see red. 

“Right, Ransom?” Someone claps him on the shoulder, and Ransom nods wordlessly. He isn’t paying attention, not to them, not with you here. You lean over to say something to your friend, the same mousy one who’d volunteered herself in your place. Ransom scoffs into his beer. 

“Three fucking weeks.” He mumbles, draining the bottle before placing it down almost too hard on the bar-top. “How’s it get serious in three fucking weeks?” He waves at the bartender, signaling for another. 

“Ran, we’re heading out.” Theo jerks his head towards the door. “There’s a party at Jude’s place. Hella girls.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Drunk ones.” 

Ransom shrugs bad-naturedly, grimacing. “I’m going to stay here,” he says evasively, casting another sour look at you as his lip curls. “I don’t feel like pulling your head out of the toilet tonight.” 

“Whatever, man.” Theo rolls his eyes, squaring his shoulders. He follows Ransom’s eye across the bar, and smirks. “Just because you’re not getting your dick wet with your porky little sidepiece anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us have to stay here and mope with you all weekend.” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol warming his gut, but Ransom’s up before he’s really got a chance to think about it, his hands on Theo’s shoulders as he shoves him backwards, hard. The other man stumbles backward, and Ransom squares his shoulders. 

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

“What, now you care, all of a sudden?” Theo scoffs. “Dude you wouldn’t even let her come in through the front door—” 

Ransom doesn’t know when exactly he grabbed a handful of Theo’s thin hair, holding his head still while he drives a frenzied fist into his former friend’s face as everyone watches. He comes to as he rears his fist back again, the sound of his name distant in his ears, like it was spoken through glass. 

“Ransom!” Your confused face in the crowd is all he can see—which is why Theo’s sucker punch catches him off guard. It makes his ears ring as stars explode in his right eye. The world tilts as Ransom stumbles, and the television static in his ears is replaced by yelling. The warm wet trickle from his nose is blood, staining the tips of his fingers red as he holds his face. Theo’s not doing much better, blood pouring from his nose, and an ugly, swollen bruise coming to bear on the right side of his face. 

“Fuck you,” Theo mumbles, drawing the back of his sleeve across his bloody lip. “Fucking asshole.” He storms out, a few of their frat brothers trailing behind him as he goes. 

“Are you fucking serious?” The bartender throws down the towel in his hands, before smacking them against the bar-top. “I’ve fucking told you guys about bringing that bullshit in here—”

“I was just leaving,” Ransom snaps, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hates that he can feel your eyes on him too; watchful, judging. Theo’s gone by the time Ransom makes his way outside. It’s almost winter break, and the icy night air feels good against the hot, painful throbbing in his cheek. 

“Ransom.” He turns, scowling at you over his shoulder. “What the fuck was that?” He shrugs miserably. 

“Nothing.” 

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“What do you fucking care?” The venom on his tongue flows easily, likely aided by the liquid courage currently sloshing around in his gut. “You blocked me. You have a boyfriend.” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting from this confrontation, but your distinct lack of a reaction feels like more of a slap in the face than anything else. You blink at him, one eyebrow quirked as if in question. 

“Yeah, I did.” Why does it hurt? Ransom’s rejected hundreds of girls—some as he was fucking pulling out of them, so why does this feel like a fucking knife in his back? “I figured you wouldn’t care much, Ransom, considering.” He hates this, hates how he’s the angry one and you’re calm—the roles should be reversed. They would be, if not for that niggling, irritating feeling that you should be his, just his. He doesn’t want to admit that you’re right, that you’ve got him pegged dead to fucking rights.

“How would you know?”

“You don’t sneak girls you like in through the basement entrance.” You retort smoothly. You’ve had a lifetime of this, of learning to live in your body, of learning to weather other people’s reactions to it—it’s Ransom that’s unfamiliar with rejection, unsure of how to handle the fact that the “r-train” isn’t enough to keep you coming back for more despite his treatment. 

“But I do. I do like you.” He says, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to be a thing. We can just, we can go back to how it was before.” This time, you do react, your face screwing up as you regard him first with disbelief and then anger. 

“Why would I give up being in a relationship with someone who actually likes me, who is willing to be seen with me in public places and with his friends— you know what? I don’t need this.” You mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This is what I fucking get for trying to make sure you’re okay. Silly me. I thought we were mature, here.” You gesture between the two of you before another dry laugh bubbles out from between your lips. 

“Have a good night, Ransom.”

No, no, don’t leave! The desperate thought makes his throat tight. You can’t leave me. He stumbles exaggeratedly as you watch, falling against the bus stop with a groan. The plan lays itself out before him neatly like lines on a map. 

“God fucking dammit—Ransom!” You huff irritatedly. He leans against the pole, counting the seconds until you come over to check on him. You do, and he moans pitifully. “Can you walk?” 

“No,” he hiccoughs, swaying cartoonishly as you try to help him stand. “Ju-hic-just go. I’ll be fine.” You blow an exasperated breath out as you straighten him up. She doesn’t talk to her parents. He licks his lips as you pull out your phone, holding it up to your ear as you wait for someone to answer on the other end. She told me that when we were smoking, that one time. 

“I obviously can’t. How did you get here?” You say, holding your hand over the mouthpiece as you scowl up at him. 

“Theo d-drove.” The house is only a ten minute drive from here. Fifteen, tops.

“Yeah, I’m just going to head back to campus. No, I’m gonna take an uber. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, Isaac.” The little smile that curls at the corners of your lips makes him sick. “Yeah, you too.” Ransom leans on you heavily, and you don’t seem to notice when he presses his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo with relish. Fucking Isaac.

“I’ll get the uber,” he says, slurring the words deliberately as he fumbles with his own phone. “M’sorry, Princess.” He taps the screen clumsily, selecting Home instead of Dorm, before hastily stowing it back in his pocket.

“Don’t call me that.” You snap sharply. You try—and fail—to stand Ransom on his own two feet. Instead he hangs over you, draped over your shoulders with his chin resting on the top of your head.

“Why?” The question comes out petulantly. “You used to like it.” 

“Stop.” 

The familiar feel of your body pressed against his is sweet in a way Ransom hadn’t anticipated. The attic’s secure. Quiet. 

When the car pulls up, Ransom allows you to wrangle him into the back seat, where he sprawls across your lap when you sit down beside him. You don’t say anything to the driver beyond a mumbled hello, which suits him just fine. Ransom plays up the drunk act, asking the driver a nonsensical question that makes you whisper at him to be quite. 

“Sorry. Just trying to get him home.” You reply, pushing uselessly at his head as he settles into your lap. Soft. He can’t help but run a reverent hand across your jean clad thigh. Love how soft she is.

You’re so distracted trying to keep him from getting comfortable that you don’t notice the cab is heading away from the dorm until the driver turns down the private road. 

“Wait—wait, I think you made a wrong turn somewhere,” you say, leaning forward to talk to the driver. He shakes his head enthusiastically, and points at his phone’s GPS. 

“No, I followed the directions,” he protests, and Ransom hides his snicker in a groan. “This is the address.” 

You lean back with a dissatisfied sigh, and look down at Ransom. 

“Let me see your phone.” He unlocks it and hands it over, his face a mask of innocence. You notice the mistake immediately, leaning forward again. “Could you turn around and take us back to Harvard campus, please—”

“This trip was already way out of my route,” the driver grouses, frowning at the two of you in the mirror. “And I don’t think he’ll make another trip. Looks like he’s about to puke any second.” 

“He’s fine.” 

Ransom retches, and watches as the cabby’s face twists angrily. 

“He’s not! I’m sorry, I’m done for the night. Maybe someone else will be able to pick you up.”

The finality in his voice makes Ransom giddy, and he clutches his stomach, gagging. He’s never thrown up—he’s not a fucking freshman lightweight, he’s a fucking Sigma for chrissakes—but he’s willing to let the two of you believe he might. You bite your lip, teeth sinking into its pillow softness as you try to undo what Ransom’s done. 

“M’sorry. Didn’ mean to put in the wrong hic place.”

You nod stiffly. “I know. I guess… Well, this place has plenty of couches, right?” There’s little humor in your joke, but Ransom makes sure to laugh a little anyway, nodding. 

“My grandfather won’t mind if you sleep in one of the guest rooms. Promise, Princess.” 

“Ransom, don’t—”

“We’re here.” The driver cuts in as the car pulls to a stop in front of the house. “Sounds like you guys have it all figured out.” 

—

As expected, the only people home are his grandfather, along with a few odd members of the staff. They’re easy enough to convince, Fran and Marta ferrying him upstairs to his room while he mumbles incoherently. You help too, tugging the blanket up over him after pulling off his shoes with a grunt. It feels nice, having you care for him like this, your soft hands on his face. 

It feels right. 

“I’ll get the guest room set up for you upstairs,” Fran says on her way out. “I’ve got a t-shirt around here somewhere.” Ransom doesn’t catch your answer, but that doesn’t matter much, not when he knows where you’ll be. It’s strange, how he’s impatient now, here at the home stretch, but he is. The smell of you, the taste, the feel, it’s all he can think about now that he’s so close.

It won’t be easy keeping you, he knows that, but nothing good comes without a challenge, right? And with the right motivation, Ransom knows he can make you fall in line. The house quiets around him, and distantly, he hears the sound of first Fran’s car, and then Marta’s. He forces himself to wait a few minutes more, and when he emerges out into the still air of the hallway, he smiles. 

The door to the guest room is ever so slightly ajar, and Ransom slides inside. You sit up sharply, and for a moment only sound between you is the quiet settling of the house. 

“What are you doing?”

“I came to check on you.” He can’t see your face in the dark, but he can see the shape of you, silhouetted in the pale beam of light streaming in from the tiny window above the bed. 

“I’m fine.” The words are stiff. “You should go to bed.” 

He doesn’t. Instead, Ransom turns and closes the door securely behind him, slipping the key into his pocket. The sound is deafening in the quiet, and he knows you hear it too. 

“Have you texted Isaac, yet?” He asks, cocking his head. The room is small, shaped oddly by the sloping roof, and Ransom himself takes up the bulk of it standing in front of the door. You seem to shrink a little in response, and your hesitation answers the question truthfully, before you’ve even spoken. 

“Y-yes. You should go to—” The way your hand strays under the pillow to feel for your phone tells him the opposite. Ransom licks his lips. 

“Have you fucked him yet, Princess?”

Your gasp is audible. 

“Don’t—don’t call me that. Ransom go to bed. You’re drunk.”

“Have you fucked him?” He repeats it, dropping to his knees on the bed.

“Get out!” You make for the door too late, and Ransom grabs you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist as he breathes a relieved sigh into your bare shoulder. Your frustrated struggle turns panicked at the sound of metal clacking against metal. “No, Ransom no—” The handcuffs he produces from his pocket aren’t the padded ones he’s used with you before—these are the real deal, and he clamps them tightly around your left wrist, looping it around the bed-frame before capturing your right. You’re writhing and fighting, but it’s easy to ignore the pain as he locks his arms tight, waiting for you to tire yourself out. 

You’re wearing just a t-shirt, and Ransom palms the heavy weight of your tits through the soft cotton with a soft groan.

“So you haven’t fucked him.” 

You open your mouth to scream, and Ransom laughs. 

“Nearest person is two floors down, Princess,” he breathes, a low,  satisfied hum rumbling in his chest as he draws his fingers through your messy hair, before tangling his fingers in it to tug your head back. His teeth scrape at your throat. “You can scream if you want to,” he mumbles against your pulse. “You know I like it when you’re loud.” 

“Ransom, stop. You’re—”

“Drunk?” He answers smartly, before shaking his head. He cups your face with one sure hand, stroking your lip with the pad of his thumb. “I know you feel bad, Princess. You let me fuck that juicy cunt so quick, you thought you needed to make him work for it.” This close he can see your face, can see the guilt you quickly try to bury because he’s right. The answer is there, written in the way you turn your head away from him, trying to hide your face in shadow. Ransom doesn’t let you, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers as he forces you to stay still, to look him in the eye. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit hoarsely, and Ransom laughs. “You’re fucking drunk and-and—get off me!” You shrill, bucking against him uselessly. If he’s drunk, that’s what he’s drunk on; the heady sensation of knowing the truth with absolute certainty. 

“I know exactly what I’m talking about.” He sneers, pressing you down into the mattress. The smell of your skin is intoxicating, like orange blossoms and fucking sunshine. “Fuck, Princess, I missed this.” It’s almost reverent, the way he slides his hands down over your hips, slowly working a knee between your stubborn thighs. Your borrowed t-shirt rolls up as Ransom spreads your legs, grinning at the sight of white lace between them.

He draws a finger over the curve of your cunt before cupping it. 

“Why’d you block me, Sweetheart?” He asks, tracing the shape of your puffy lips through the cotton. 

“You didn’t want me!” You hiss through clenched teeth. Ransom clucks his tongue at you, shaking his head, before delivering a stinging slap to your cunt. You feel it through the cotton, of course, whining and writhing underneath him as you cry out. “You’re fucking crazy—” The palm of his hand cracks sharply against you again, and it cuts your complaint short as the words disappear in a pained gasp. 

“Be honest with me, Princess.” He says, grinning as you try to wriggle away from him.

“You wouldn’t even be seen with me!” Your voice cracks. “It’s not fair, Ransom!”

“You want me to stake a claim, Sweetheart? I can do that,” Ransom breathes, pushing the shirt up over your breasts, groaning at the sight of your puffy nipples. He draws his thumb across one, watching, enraptured, as the flesh pebbles underneath his touch. He trails sloppy, heated kisses up the side of your throat, nipping at the skin until you whimper. He mouths at your skin, sucking at the purpling bruise until he pulls away, satisfied. 

“We can think of a more permanent solution later.” He leans back with a satisfied sigh. It feels good to mark you, to watch the bruises spread like ink on your pretty skin. 

“Please, Ransom, just go!” You sob, the chain rattling against the bed-frame as you try unsuccessfully to loose yourself from your restraints. “We-we’ll just pretend it never happened!” You nod at him, like you’re trying to encourage him to do the same, your wide eyes fever bright. “It’ll be just like before—”

“Why would I want that?” He asks, reaching down to tug your panties tight, pulling the fabric tautly through the lips of your pussy like dental floss. “I don’t think you’re really grasping the situation, Princess, so let me spell it out for you.” Ransom spreads your legs wider as you stare up at him with fearful eyes. 

“I don’t want things how they were before.” He snarls. “Things are different now, Sweetheart. You made them different.” Ransom slips his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties, and begins tugging them own your thighs, ignoring your whimpered pleas to wait and stop. You kick at him, a frenzied wail working its way out of your throat. True to his word, he ignores it, sliding down your body until he’s faced with the slick patch between your thighs. 

“Ransom—” His name is a hoarse wail as he attaches his lips to your cunt, his tongue seeking out your traitorously swelling clit. He grins against you, dragging his tongue noisily through your folds, moaning. This is perfection, he muses dimly, lapping at you as you whine. You can’t deny how good it feels, not when he can see the evidence glistening on your quaking thighs, taste it on his tongue. You’re gasping, those precious little choking noises filling his ears as you try to swallow down the sound of your pleasure.  

“Can’t fucking get over how good you taste, Princess,” he mumbles, reveling in your yelp as he sucks harshly on your swollen bud, spreading you wide with his fingers. You shake, your body jackknifing as you murmur nonsensically. He’s always loved that flavor—like fresh peaches, why do you taste like fucking peaches—

“F-Fuck you!” He doesn’t let you cum, though, pulling away to flick softly at your clit with his thumb. He draws the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the evidence of your body’s betrayal with a sly smile. A hoarse little whimper escapes you, and Ransom clucks his tongue, before reaching down to palm himself through his sweats. His cock his hard, so hard it almost hurts, thick drops of precum gathering at the reddened tip. He reaches for his phone with the other hand, the shutter noise clicking as he snaps a few pictures of your tear-stained face. 

“N-no, no—!” You voice your displeasure with a whine as Ransom pans the camera down your body, like he’s trying to map it out for posterity’s sake. “No pictures, please, please!” Your wild, watery eyes are frantic as you plead with him. “Please don’t, Ran, please don’t send those—” A hot pulse shoots through his body at your desperation, and his cock throbs. 

“A minute ago you were just telling me to go fuck myself.” He quirks an eyebrow at you over the top of the phone. “So which is it?”

“Please don’t send those.” You swallow thickly, the sound audible. “Please.”

He has no intention of sending them anywhere—except maybe to Isaac with your face cropped out, of course. But he smiles lasciviously anyway, blue eyes narrowing. Ransom runs his tongue across his lips, still tasting you on them.

“Let’s make a little deal, then.” He tugs his sweats down, and the fat, veiny length of his cock springs out. Ransom hisses softly as he spreads a sticky drop of precum across his tip with his thumb. “You’re going to end it with Isaac.” You open your mouth to complain, but Ransom forges ahead, ignoring you. “We’ll be exclusive, you and me, Princess.” He forces your thighs open a little wider. “Just like you want.” Ransom’s practically giddy with the thrill of it as your full lips begin to tremble and fresh tears track down your cheeks.

“I—I don’t want you!” You gasp, your attempts to buck him off only succeeding in wedging him further between your frantically kicking legs. Ransom clucks his tongue at you. 

“I don’t know about that, Princess,” he says, slapping a hand against your swollen cunt, cupping it roughly. You squeal as he draws a finger through your slick, still throbbing folds. 

“Not sure if you’ve ever been wetter.” Ransom presses your thighs to your chest. He asks, licking his lips. “It’s all up to you, of course.” Ransom lies so easily it doesn’t even really occur to him that he’s doing it. 

“You tell me to go, I’ll go. But I can’t say what’ll happen to that footage.” He shrugs. He’s got no intention of leaving this room, not really, but he doesn’t mind pretending. “But if you were my girl, I might be able to swing deleting it. After all, what would I need it for? Got the real thing all to myself.” He dips the tip of a thick finger into your entrance. “Get it, Princess? No more scholarship. No more shitty dorm-room. I’ll take care of you.”

You’re so easy to read like this, your guard down and your desperation front and center. He can see you weighing the options, trying to parse out the best win for yourself in this devil’s bargain. He can see you testing the weight of your future against the events of this evening, and coming up far short. Ransom’s not stupid—and neither are you. You know what happens to girls like you when these things make their way into campus chatrooms and local reddit pages. 

“You’ll really delete them?” You ask meekly, your mouth trembling. “You won’t… you won’t show these to anyone?” Ransom grins wider, drawing an X across his heart with the tip of his index finger. 

“Cross my heart.” Ransom steadies one hand against your hip, his fingers sinking into the soft curve of it as he aligns himself with your entrance. His eyes roll as the head of his cock meets your cunt with a lewd, wet squelch. He’s getting impatient—after all, it’s been more than two weeks since the last time he’s been inside you, and his cock twitches hard against you at the thought. 

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry Princess, you’ll need to speak up.” Ransom leans down over you, his hard eyes locked on yours. “Again.” 

“I said fine!” Your quiet voice is strained. “Fine. I’ll—I’ll break up with Isaac—”  Ransom kisses you, swallowing the rest of your words eagerly. He gorges himself on your mouth, sucking your tongue fiercely before pulling away to worry at your lower lip with his teeth until it’s swollen and red. 

“Oh Princess.” He breathes. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”  He watches with dark glee when your eyes go wide as he begins to press into you, the head of his cock forcing you open. “No condom this time, but that’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Ransom!”

“M’right here,” he breathes, his hips jerking as your slick, puffy cunt sucks at his tip. “Fuck.” Ransom watches your eyes roll as you sink your teeth into your lower lip.  “I know you missed it too, Sweetheart,” Ransom grits the words out through his teeth as he sinks in, his toes curling as your wet heat envelops him inch by precious inch. “You can admit it.” 

The warm euphoria that spreads down his spine as he bottoms out draws another curse from his lips. You feel like fucking slick velvet inside, your walls clamping down on the girth of his cock like a wet fist. It’s hypnotic, pulling out only to thrust home again, his ears barely registering the groan of the bed-frame beneath you. The space between his temples is buzzing—your compliance, the feel of you around him, the knowledge that he’d won—Ransom’s delirious with it. 

What’s even better is he can see it, plain on your face how much you’re enjoying it—how much you hate yourself for it. It makes every mumbled curse, every moan he wrenches from your unwilling throat all the sweeter. Ransom clucks his tongue at you as he leans down to capture your lips again. They’re pillow soft and swollen from his teeth. 

“It’s my fault.” Ransom drives his cock into you, groaning. “I was stupid, Princess, I know. But I know what I need, now,” he says, hooking an arm beneath your thigh, lifting it so he can sink in even deeper. “Just you.” The shameful little wail that escapes your throat as you clamp down around him is almost enough to make him cum with you, cursing and crying as you do. He hangs on by the last fraying thread of his self control. 

“Shit, shit, shit—”

“See?” He laughs, rolling his hips into yours with heavy strokes. “You need me, too.” 

God, he loves seeing you like this, loves being the one to break you apart—loves knowing he’ll be the only one. It’s that thought that does it, aided by the miserable way you mewl his name as you cum again. His hands are tight on your hips, sinking into the heavy curve of them as he growls your name roughly in your ear. For a moment he’s lost in it; his forehead resting against yours as you milk him. 

He stays inside you for a few luxurious minutes, basking in the feel of your cunt before pulling out. Ransom slaps his still hard cock against your oversensitive clit and you whine, your hips jerking. He can’t help but admire the mess he’s made, dragging his tip through your slick, sticky folds. 

You watch him with red-rimmed eyes, your brows furrowing as he rises from the bed, pulling his sweats back up over his hips. He doesn’t reach for the keys, but instead slides his hand underneath your pillow to remove your phone. 

“Ransom let me out, now.” Your voice is high, panicked. “You promised—”

“To delete the pictures.” He finishes, nodding. As you sputter, he removes his own phone from his pocket, and faces the screen towards you as he selects the pictures and videos from the photo album, and there’s a swooshing sound from the phone’s speakers as they disappear. “And I’ve deleted them.” Frantically, you rattle the handcuff chains against the bed-frame, trying desperately to dislodge them as Ransom sighs. 

“You’re just going to hurt yourself.” You keep trying anyway, ignoring him your terrified sobs grow louder. 

“Let me go! You fucking promised, Ransom, don’t leave me here—”

He cocks his head at you. 

“Why would I leave you?” He asks, slipping both your phones into his pocket as he stands, stretching. “Winter break’s just starting,” Ransom says with a smile. “And I can’t think of a better way to spend it.” 

the end

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[fatkish]

If you’re up too it can you write some mitsuri x

Obanai x reader with maybe a chubby reader ^^!! If not ignore this wish you well

Mitsuri & Obanai x Chubby Reader

Insecurities

(Trigger warning: self deprecation, self body shaming, negative self talk/image. [this is mostly my thoughts that I’ve had towards myself and based on my experience])

You had always been insecure about your body. Compared to Mitsuri and Obanai, you felt ashamed of yourself. You never ate as much as Mitsuri but you ate more than Obanai. You hadn’t always been chubby. You remembered that you were skinny as a child, so much so you were called a twig. You don’t really know what changed, but eventually you found yourself having gained weight. Originally you struggled to maintain a healthy weight and now it seemed like no matter what you did, you couldn’t get rid of your fat.

You couldn’t even look yourself in the mirror. You hated yourself. You made sure to hide this from Mitsuri and Obanai. You don’t know what they see in you. Maybe they only want you around because…. Because why? Why are you here. Both Mitsuri and Obanai are so pretty and they make such a beautiful couple, they’re both strong, but where do you fit in? What could you possibly do for them that they can’t already do? You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t even be aliv… tears. You’re crying. You hate yourself so much, you cover your eyes and sob.

Unknown to you, Obanai stood outside the room, listening to your sobs. Mitsuri had been coming around the corner and was about to greet him when he turned to her with a finger over where his mouth was, his other hand pointing at the door. Mitsuri walked over and heard your sobs. With tears in her own eyes she covered her mouth and looked at Obanai. “You stupid, fucking pig! Look at yourself, you might as well have a curly tail cause you’re fat like a goddamn pig…. I’m so fucking ugly” they heard you say to yourself. Obanai had a look of shock and Mitsuri one of horror.

“I shouldn’t even be alive! Why the hell am I even alive” You yelled as you sobbed, not aware of the two people listening. Mitsuri couldn’t take it anymore and ran into the room and wrapped her arms around you. “Wahhh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you felt this way! I’m so sorry, please don’t say such things, they hurt my heart!” Mitsuri wailed as she hugged you.

“Mitsuri is right. You shouldn’t say such horrible things about yourself. You want to know why you’re alive? You’re alive because we love you. You’re the one thing we know will always be here for us. Mitsuri and I could die at any time fighting demons, but knowing that you’re here, that we have such a wonderful person at home waiting for us. It makes us fight that much harder to come home.” Obanai said as he sat down beside you and rubbed your back.

“Obanai’s right! We absolutely love you and you’re the one constant in our lives that we can depend on. You take such good care of us, you always cook me such yummy food! How could we ever not love you?” Mitsuri cried as she squeezed you tight.

You wiped your eyes and looked at them. They both looked at you with such love filled eyes. They truly adored you. “Why didn’t you tell us you were feeling this way?” Mitsuri asked. “I didn’t want to be a burden on you guys, you both risk your lives and my worries are selfish compared to what you guys see and deal with” you replied. “Nonsense, you’re feelings are important to us, don’t you dare ever hold them back from us. If something is bothering you, tell us.” Obanai demanded. He wiped the tears from your eyes and looked at you so softly. “We love you, don’t you dare ever question it, understand?” He looked you straight in the eye. “Yes” you replied.

Obanai grabbed your hand and held it to his mouth before giving it a gentle kiss through his bandages. “You’re ours, understand. It’s our job to take care of you, just as it is your job to care for us, if I see you trying to hide your feelings from us again there will be consequences understand?” Obanai threatened. “What kind of consequences?” You asked. Mitsuri smiled and hugged you as Obanai blushed as his face turned red. “We-we’ll make you love yourself, we’ll force you to be kind to yourself!” Mitsuri cheered. “And if that doesn’t work, we’ll force you to endure endless pleasure until you learn to be kind to yourself.” Obanai threatened.

You smiled and hugged them both, “I love you both so much. Thank you” you thanked them as they hugged you back. “Now c’mon. Let’s go make dinner. I’m so hungry and food always makes me feel better!” Mitsuri tugged you with her and led you towards the kitchen as Obanai followed. You smiled and held Mitsuri’s hand. You feel so loved, they love you so much, guess you are worth something after all. Why else would you be loved so deeply by these guys.

[thelov3lybookworm]

My Fault (part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Starting over.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: Lol i just know half of you all gonna hate me for this, but this is the only way i could think of that would be good. I dont think making her end up with someone ese would have helped, so if you dont want her to end up with cass, then please dont read this.

also, why does sarah not tell us how people who cant winnow travel??? 😭😭😭

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Nina's excitement was palpable as Y/n slowly inserted the key into the front door of the home she shared with her husband, trying not to make too much noise in case he was in there, probably sleeping.

It was no use though, Y/n found out once she entered and ran up to her bedroom. Nina had just plopped down unceremoniously on the couch, telling Y/n to hurry up.

The moment Y/n pushed open the closed door to her and Cassian's bedroom -which she was sure was open when she left- she was hit with the strong scent of her husband.

Y/n froze on the threshold, staring wide eyed at her husband, who was on his knees in the middle of the room, fat tears rolling down his face.

He looked up, his eyes containing a world of pain and sadness and guilt and too may emotions that Y/n could not categorise them all.

"Cass?" Y/n mumbled, daring to take a step towards him. He released an anguished cry and launched forward, a dull thud echoing in his wake.

Cassian wrapped himself around Y/n's legs, sobbing into her abdomen. Y/n stared at the top of his head with furrowed brows, then rose her eyes to where he had been kneeling previously.

There, she found a worn diary lying on the wooden floor, left haphazardly. Y/n's blood chilled.

It was her diary.

Y/n usually hid it in her drawer, but she had been writing in it before she left to get coffee with Nina and everything went south.

Cassian had been gone more and more in the recent months, and to cope with all the sadness and need, Y/n began jotting down all that she felt in her empty diary.

And now he had read it all.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Y/n was still frozen when she realised that her blouse was sticking to her skin because of his tears. "Tell you what?"

"Everything. Why did you not tell me how much you'd been hurting? Why did you not tell me that I'd been a shitty husband?"

Y/n watched his shoulder shake with every violent sob that ripped out of his chest, numbness spreading through her. "You were never around long enough for me to say anything."

He sobbed harder at that, and Y/n couldn't take it anymore. She let her hand drift to the top of his head, gently caressing his soft hair.

"My love, why are you crying?" Y/n reached down, cupping his jaw and tilting his head back. She ran her thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tears that never stopped, her other hand still resting in his hair.

More tears flowed from his eyes, and he opened his mouth to speak, but right at that moment, Nina spoke up from behind Y/n. Y/n hadn't even heard Nina walk up the stairs, so busy was she getting lost in her lover's eyes.

"Get away from her you bastard."

Y/n turned halfway, Cassian's death grip on her lessening just a little as he too peered from around Y/n. Y/n absently noted that Nina had left her bag down in the living room.

"Nina, please-"

"Y/n, don't. You just told me you wanted to leave, heal. What happened now? Are you having second thoughts?"

Y/n felt Cassian freeze, and she sighed, glaring at Nina. "You... you are leaving?"

"Thank you so much Nina, just what I needed." Y/n bit out, turning her back to her friend and glancing down at her kneeling husband. His skin was pale, paler than Y/n had ever seen him.

"What! I just helped you out! You had to tell him anyways!"

"Yes Nina, but I would have been more gentle!"

Nina huffed as Y/n grabbed Cassian's forearms and tugged. He complied, climbing to his feet as new tears gathered in his eyes. Y/n ignored her friend and grabbed Cassian's face tenderly in her hands.

"Cass? I... I need to leave."

"Why?" He whispered.

"I don't think I can handle letting your family walk all over me anymore. I need to stand up for myself. I'm sorry Cass, but I need to do this. Even if it kills me, I need to leave."

"I- they're your family too." His voice was quiet and uncertain, as though he knew Y/n would not believe him.

Y/n gave him a small, pained smile. "I don't think they feel that way."

"Please don't go Y/n. Rhys is feeling guilty for what he did. I'm sure everyone else is too. Maybe they're on their way here to apologise."

"Never seen anyone more delusional." Nina murmured from behind Y/n.

"Cass-"

Before Y/n could even get a word out, Nina piped up.

"If you really want to be with her, you can come with us. Leave this hell court."

Cassian ignored Nina again.

"Y/n, please don't go. I need you. We can all start over again. I promise they will realise how wrong they were."

"It's too late now. Give us a straight answer. If you love her, leave this place and come with us. If not, stay here and rot."

"Come on, Y/n. I can't leave them. They're my family."

"And she is not? You should not feel obligated to love someone because they're your family or whatever."

Cassian glared at Nina, then mumbled to Y/n. "Are you not going to defend me from her?"

"Like you defended her from your asshole family?"

Y/n could see Cassian trying to hold back a snarl at that, and she sighed, pinching her nose bridge between her forefinger and thumb. "Y/n. We need to talk. Alone."

Y/n nodded, glancing at her friend, who rolled her eyes. "I will be standing outside. Call for me when you're done."

She looked like she wanted to slam the door shut as she left, but she simply pulled it until it made a soft click.

Y/n turned to Cassian, offering him a tentative smile.

"Yes?"

Cassian took a step back. "I- I'll start from the beginning."

Y/n nodded uncertainly, wondering what he wanted to tell her. He grabbed Y/n's hand, gently tugging her to the end of the bed and sitting her down onto it.

"I... I don't know how to explain, but I'll try." Cassian took a deep breath as he settled into a kneeling position in front of Y/n. "First of all, I need you to know that I only ever kissed Nesta, and that was when I was drunk out of my mind."

He released a breath before continuing, clutching Y/n's hands as if they were his lifeline. "I... I know that isn't an excuse for what I did, and I never should have been at Rita's that night, but it happened, and I don't think anything I do or say will justify it.

"It started that day a year ago. When Rhys wanted to send me on a month long mission. Asshole, now that I think of it. I just now realise it for the plot it was." Cassian shook his head in disbelief. "He told me no one else could do it and that only I could do it. That should have alerted me, but alas, I now know that I'm very thick skulled."

A small giggle left Y/n, and Cassian's eyes rose to her lips, a little of life returning to the dull hazel. He smiled softly as his eyes met Y/n's, and her breath hitched. It had been far too long since the two of them had time like this.

"I remember you cried that day. That was the first time I'd seen you cry. I was so stressed because I did not want to leave you. That would have been the first time that I would be away from you for longer than a day. You told me you would write to me everyday."

Y/n could remember it very vividly. The way she had sobbed into Cassian's chest just as he was about to leave, the way she had stared up at him as his tears fell too. It had been a nightmare, to put it nicely.

"But you never did-"

Y/n interrupted him. "What do you mean I never did?"

Cassian glanced up at Y/n from where he was playing with her fingers, meeting her eyes with furrowed brows. "You never wrote to me? I never received any letters."

Y/n's lips parted in confusion. "I- I wrote to you everyday Cass. Sometime even multiple times a day."

Cassian stared at her in disbelief, and Y/n could see the gears in his brain churning. His mouth opened a few times, wanting to speak but no words coming out before realisation set in his features.

"Rhysand."

Y/n searched Cassian's eyes as anger and betrayal entered them, coming to the same realisation.

"Oh Cass." Y/n mumbled, reaching up to cup his cheek.

"Fucker." Cassian said under his breath, his wings flaring slightly.

After a moment of Cassian cursing Rhys and his entire family line, he continued. "I never received those letters, so I was a little upset because I was looking forward to writing you. When I returned, I decided that it would be best to give Rhys all the information I had before coming home so I could spend some days with you, locked away with no one interrupting us.

"But when I arrived, Rhysand said things about you that riled me up. He told me that he had asked you multiple times if you had to send any letters and that each time you told him to, basically, fuck off. I did not believe him, but it kept happening every time I was gone, to the point where I was starting to wonder if you liked me at all."

Cassian rested his head on their joined hands, releasing a deep breath. "I never should have believed that bastard, never should have doubted you. And I will forever regret that. Rhys also kept up with his manipulating to get me away from you, I see that now. I should have stopped him the first time he said things about you, but I guess I didn't want to upset him after everything he's done for me."

"He is your family, isn't he? He would not have expected anything of you." Y/n told him, making him nod.

"I know. Recently, after Feyre and her sister's arrival, Rhys started to gaslight me into thinking I liked Nesta. He made me spend more time with her, train her. He got so much out of it. For one, he could get me away from you, whatever his reasons. By assigning me to Nesta, he could keep her busy and out of the way.

"He... he really fucked up my mind. He is a daemati after all. Yesterday at Rita's, I realised something was wrong. That I couldn't put up my shields properly. Then the next thing I knew, I was kissing Nesta. I left soon after, not wanting to be near any longer."

He sucked in a tired breath, his hold tightening on Y/n's hands. She gave him a gentle squeeze and he continued. "Today, when I was about to come home, Rhys convinced me to stay till dinner. And I just... somehow couldn't say no. It was like- like..."

Cassian trailed off, his wide eyes meeting his wife's.

"Oh Cassian." Y/n slid onto his lap, pulling him close. "I'm so sorry he did that to you. I wish I had known what was happening sooner so I could stop it from ever happening."

Cassian shook his head, staring at the wall behind Y/n's head, his features distant.

"Not your fault. You could not have stopped it from happening."

Y/n knew that, but that didn't stop her from wanting to rip off Cassian's brother's head. Hell, she wished at least she's gotten a little bit of power from her parents so she could do anything to stop what Rhys had been doing to Cassian.

She could not even winnow, so what was she even worth? At least this Nesta was powerful enough to be mated to Cassian.

"I just- I just don't understand why he wanted you to be with Nesta."

Without moving his eyes, still that far off look on his face, Cassian mumbled. "She is my mate, and the mother pairs people who can produce the strongest offspring." Finally, Cassian met Y/n's gaze, his eyes haunted. "He wanted me to produce as strong as an offspring I could."

Y/n's heart broke for her husband. She knew how much the high lord mattered to him, and the betrayal she felt would probably not even compare to what he was feeling.

Cassian opened his mouth on a gasp, about to say something when knock drew their attention, stopping Cassian from speaking.

"Are you done yet?" Nina's voice called out. Y/n looked from the door to Cassian. He stared at the door like it had caused him some personal offence. "The caravan will not wait up for us, and only an hour is left-"

"Caravan?" Cassian questioned Y/n, turning to look at her as his hands fell to her waist. Y/n nodded.

"Neither of us can winnow, so Nina had to contact a friend who knew of an agent. He technically transports people from one court to another on horse and carriages."

Understanding entered his eyes. "You- you really were going to leave."

Y/n nodded, making to pull away from him so she could start packing up. His hold on her tightened.

"Please don't go. I need you. I will make it up to you, I promise. I will wait forever if that's what it takes to earn your forgiveness." His eyes were again filled with tears, making it harder for Y/n to turn away.

"Cass... I won't forgive you. Not anytime soon at least. But... maybe I can give you one last chance."

The tears overflowed from his eyes even as a huge grin split his face. "Thank you. Thank you so much my heart. I will not let you down again."

Y/n studied him for a moment, smiling when he started laughing softly while wiping at his tear stained cheek with the sleeve of his shirt. Y/n gently pushed back some stray strands of hair from his face, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Maybe we can start all over again. Like we never knew each other."

Cassian nodded. "Even though what good times we had together are precious to me, I don't think we can mend this. We need to start over."

Y/n smiled wide for the first time in what felt like months, genuine joy singing through her blood. "Let's get ready then."

•○🌑○•

Nina's pov.

It was around ten minutes after that the door opened, and Nina nearly fell to her knees and thanked the mother for it. She was getting bored standing out here all by herself.

And in the next moment Nina wondered if she was dreaming.

Y/n stood in the doorway, a huge smile and blush on her face. That was not what shocked Nina, though it played a part in it.

No, it was Cassian, who stood behind Y/n, holding two duffel bags over his shoulder, a quiet joy on his face.

Nina rose a brow at the couple, who only grinned. Releasing a disbelieving sigh, Nina pushed away from the wall she was leaning against.

"I had booked an extra seat just in case. Thank the mother I did."

Y/n grabbed Nina in a quick hug, and her happiness brought a small smile to Nina's lips as well.

Y/n turned and practically skipped down the stairs, happy to leave. Cassian moved to follow, but Nina caught his arm. He looked down at her, his brows raised high.

"Don't you dare hurt her now. Or I will fucking carve your wings from your back. Understood?" If possible, his eyebrows rose higher, almost disappearing into his hairline. Obviously, Nina wished Y/n never forgive him, but Nina also knew how happy the brute made her best friend, and that was all Nina could ask for.

He studied her for a moment, then nodded, pulling his arm away from her. "Hmm. Good."

With that, both of them followed Y/n, ready to start all over again, make a new life.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @awkwardnerd @cleverzonkwombatsludge @blogforficslol @fasoaurore @fanboyluvr @darling006 @sonics-atelier @saltedcoffeescotch @lees-chaotic-brain @leeknows-wife

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa

Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts

[leclerc-s]

who's daniel ricciardo anyways?

series masterlist

NEW HEIGHTS | EP 50

comments

user01 is jason a secret daphne jones fan? he knows about the eagles t-shirt.

user02 i'm so here for the daphne jones/travis kelce love story

user03 months later we're going to look back on this and know it was the start of the greatest love story ever.

user04 as a daphne fan. it's a cute idea but like do the other people in the comments know anything about daphne?

↳ user05 right? like at least educate yourselves on daphne lore before you start shipping her with someone.

user06 jason's doing god's work for daphne and travis.

user07 and the award for biggest daphne and travis' biggest shipper is jason kelce!

user08 reading these comments is making me cringe a little bit. do people not know a thing about daphne? like i'm not even a fan of her and i know.

↳ user09 know what?

↳ user08 daphne's married. she's been married for almost a year.

user10 the reason daphne probably didn't talk to him is because she's married and doesn't want to give anyone the wrong idea.

↳ user11 SHE'S MARRIED? HOW THE FUCK AM I JUST NOW FINDING OUT?

isabella perez to the americans, who the fuck is travis kelce?

logan sargeant nfl player for the kansas city chiefs

zoya torres do you mean football?

logan sargeant I AM NOT GETTING INTO THIS ARGUMENT WITH LANDO AGAIN ZOYA! DROP IT!

rowan todd is this about the daphne thing?

daniel jones-ricciardo what daphne thing? who's talking about my wife? who do i have to fight?

isabella perez nfl crazy fanboys who are demanding your wife divorce you and date travis kelce because "who's daniel ricciardo anyways?"

max jones-verstappen i'm throwing hands. is that the right way to use the phrase?

mae jones-verstappen yes max, it is. max jones-verstappen as i said, i'm throwing hands

charles leclerc are they insane?

dulce perez they watch grown men chase after a ball for over 2 hours. yes.

logan sargeant there are specific rules!

dulce perez you're literally the only one who cares.

daniel ricciardo that's not true! go bills! logan sargeant boo! go dolphins!

alex albon are you proud of what you've started dulce?

dulce perez i now realize that i've made a huge mistake.

mae jones-verstappen i'm american and i don't get the sport.

logan sargeant that sound like a you problem. mae jones-verstappen you've grown bold since you were added to the group chat logan sargeant it's the effect you people have on me.

natalia ruiz who the fuck is travis kelce and why is hitting on my wife?

daniel jones-ricciardo we are not doing this again nat. she's my wife! natalia ruiz you keep telling yourself that honey.

oscar piastri so natalia's like, in love with daphne, rowan, and penelope?

natalia ruiz don't forget my other wives, lily, mae, and carmen. dulce perez she just says that to piss them all off and it works. natalia ruiz men have such fragile egos

daphne jones she's not wrong.

isabella perez daphne! what do you think about travis kelce?

daphne jones-ricciardo i know his brother is jason kelce? he plays for the eagles. why?

daniel jones-ricciardo no reason! no reason at all! please ignore it!

max jones-verstappen travis declared his love for you on the internet and now daniel feels insecure you're going to dump him and date travis.

daniel jones-ricciardo sometimes i hate that we're related now. max jones-verstappen no you don't you fucking liar. you love me. daniel jones-ricciardo because i happen to like your wife so i tolerate you. max jones-verstappen you're a big fat fucking liar jones-ricciardo!

liked by maxverstappen1, maejones, isabellaperez and others

danieljonesricciardo who's daniel ricciardo anyways?

tagged: daphnejonesricciardo

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user93 not the wedding picture! daniel jones-ricciardo, the man that you are!!

maejones tell me you're jealous without telling me you're jealous

↳ danieljonesricciardo i'm not jealous! but i don't know who daniel ricciardo is, i only know daniel jones-ricciardo.

isabellaperez yeah, daniel you tell 'em!

maxverstappen1 oh my god. of course you would do this.

↳ danieljonesricciardo it's a problem when i do it but when you lost your shit over mae and joshua getting shipped by the internet over their "rekindlement" it was fine

↳ maxverstappen1 that's different! you're married!

user81 the fucking wedding picture is taking me out. this man is trying to prove a point.

nataliaruiz she's my wife ricciardo, don't you forget it.

↳ danieljonesricciardo i will steal your child if you don't stop.

↳ charles_leclerc you leave my daughter alone jones-ricciardo!

user87 SHE'S MARRIED? HOW DID I MISS THIS?

user59 oh my god daniel jones-ricciardo. i fucking love you

vancityreynolds the only person allowed to steal your wife or profess her love for her is my wife.

↳ danieljonesricciardo see you get it. just like only i can profess my love for you or steal you from your wife.

↳ vancityreynolds that's right my love!

↳ user02 i fucking love this duo!

scottyjames31 oh brother! this guy's so jealous

↳ danieljonesricciardo i know where you live scotty.

NEW HEIGHTS | EP 54

comments

user12 i for one did not know daphne jones was married.

user13 to everyone who was pushing the daphne x travis agenda, you sure look dumb now, don't you?

user14 i was so wrong when i said this would be the greatest love story ever.

user15 so she's a wag but not a wag for the person or sport we all thought?

↳ user16 people wanted her to be a football wag when she's been an f1 wag for over 7 years.

user17 jason kelce developing a man crush on daniel jones-ricciardo was not on my bingo card for 2023

user18 f1 silly season is silly seasoning so good. i thought we had gotten past this with the daphlonso thing but nooo

user19 the kelce brothers not knowing what formula one was before all of this is so fucking funny to me

↳ user20 them not knowing what it was and now jason kelce having a crush on daniel is so fucking funny to me

↳ user19 right, this whole thing is so fucking funny.

user21 okay but i would also be like travis, i just wouldn't put the signs together. like what if one of her last names was her mom's last name? i'm just dumb like that

↳ user22 must be all the hits to the head getting to travis.

isabella perez daniel, this is very important, did you or did you not receive an apology from travis kelce for hitting on your wife?

daniel jones-ricciardo i did. why is it important? arthur leclerc so we can secretly stop shitting on him.

sebastian vettel they have a group chat away from the "responsible adults"

sebastian vettel i wasn't aware fernando was responsible but here we are.

fernando alonso do not tempt me sebastian, i can still add mark.

daphne jones-ricciardo i feel like i'm owed an apology because jason kelce just hit on my husband.

rowan todd reminder, your husband publically flirts with ryan all the fucking time.

esteban ocon i fear we may have to keep him away from ryan in vegas.

mick schumacher get them both drunk enough and they'll try to get married by elvis.

daniel jones-ricciardo that is so not true. i would marry max. max jones-verstappen and we would do it sober! bailey winters you two are worse than my parents, and they've been married for over 20 years.

freya vettel so we can stop hating on travis?

isabella perez i think we do freya. this is tragic. i was enjoying it.

oscar piastri you said he was built like brick wall. that was it.

isabella perez i know but i enjoyed george's presentation on why daphne and travis would never work out. it was very informative.

daniel jones-ricciardo HE MADE A PRESENTATION? george russell yes, and my main reason was that everyone would think it was a publicity stunt for that one game that everyone tunes in to watch but it's simply to watch the halftime show and not the actual game.

logan sargeant i watch the game!

zoya torres that's because you're part of the small percentage that watches the game. speaking of, who do you guys think is performing next year?

lewis hamilton will it finally be the year daphne says yes?

daphne jones-ricciardo will xnda record a song with me? lewis hamilton no daphne jones-ricciardo there's your answer

rowan todd i think shakira should get a solo halftime show

logan sargeant the council has suggest i recommend daisy jones & the six

isabella perez peso pluma.

dulce perez you're joking, right? isabella perez of course i am. i think a huge reggaeton number works better.

freya vettel hear me out. one direction reunion.

isabella perez or, hear me out, daphne performs with one-hit wonder xnda

lewis hamilton one-hit wonder? isabella perez you recorded one song and dipped lewis. you are a one-hit wonder.

ollie bearman you people are insane.

carlos sainz tell us something we don't know oliver. isabella perez that is my son! watch it sainz!

fernando alonso i hate every single one of you and i can't stand any of you.

sebastian vettel liar! fernando alonso especially you.

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¡leclerc-s speaks! honestly, this opportunity was too fucking funny to pass up. i like to think i fucking hilarious when i'm sleep deprived. this is 100% not funny. i also probably got the dates wrong but that's on my sleep deprived brain. i cannot be held accountable for the mistakes it makes.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[userlando]

Reader w bestie lando feeling down bc he’s surrounded by more conventionally attractive girlies/people because of his profile and him listing all the positive qualities and things that he likes about them except he lets slip saying he LOVES it about them n getting all flustered stuttering and then confessing years of longing my HEART can’t handle this pls add ur thoughts vulnerable lan is my kryptonite

oh my god please 😭😭

reassurance (1492 words) best friend lando/fem!reader confessing feelings

please beware that this can have allusions/mentions of body dysmorphia, reader being insecure and self-conscious about how she looks. nothing too major, but it may trigger someone!

The both of you are standing by the kitchen counter, it’s late and Max is sleeping upstairs, oblivious to what’s going on outside his bedroom door. It had been a long night of drinking with half the grid and their respective partners, buying out a VIP section and ordering buckets of icy drinks.

It was at two a.m. that your social battery died out and so did Lando’s. You didn’t think a person could be so happy as he got when he glanced your way and caught you surreptitiously hiding a yawn behind your hand, asking if you were ready to head out. He’d only had one drink, so he drove the both of you back to his and Max’s place.

The kitchen had become your refuge, only one small lamp being the source of light as you got comfortable by the counter. Lando had, as suspected, sought out Max’s stash of snacks, ignoring your halfhearted protests because the last time he’d raided the pantry, his best friend had gotten so pissed that he’d locked it.

Normally, you would’ve joined him in the drunken snacking, giggling and carrying a stupid conversation that usually went in the direction of weird-ville, ending with ‘what type of worm would you be, if you could choose one?’

But tonight, you were staring dubiously at the bag of Walkers and packet of Hobnobs, all kinds of self-conscious thoughts swirling in your mind. You thought of earlier that night, when you’d trashed the dress you had in mind because it didn’t look right on you. You thought of how you’d gone for jeans, immediately regretting it when you arrived at the club and spotted the girls in short skirts and gorgeous dresses that looked like it was moulded for them. It was difficult to not feel some kind of way when everyone around you looked like they’d just stepped off the runway.

“You alright, peach?” Lando’s voice cut through your thoughts and you glanced up at him, hanging over the counter and chewing loudly on biscuits.

You grimaced at the nickname, one that you really hadn’t had many feelings about until recently. It had started as a joke, being photographed walking the paddock with Lando during an obscure weekend and Lando had giggled so hard that he turned red, almost losing consciousness as he read a tweet someone had posted about you.

ass so fat it looks like a peach

It had been funny, and Lando never really let it go. He’d started calling you peach ironically, until it stuck and replaced your name entirely.

But now you weren’t so sure about the positive aspects of the nickname.

Lando made a noise in his throat, swallowing dryly around the crumbs and reaching a hand out to poke your cheek. You twisted away slightly, blowing out a breath.

“Lando!”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He demanded, sounding much like a defiant child.

You gave him a look. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, I can see you pouting.”

“I’m not—“ You caught yourself before your blood pressure reached a new high. “Shut up.”

“Peach.” He said again and you looked down from his probing eyes, staring hard at the opened packet of Hobnobs that Max would for sure notice were missing.

“I just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to express your feelings without sounding so childish. What would you say? I don’t feel beautiful. I feel like an ogre next to your friends’ girlfriends. I hate the way I look. “I’ve been feeling a bit self-conscious lately, that’s all.”

Lando didn’t say anything and you looked up, thinking that he might’ve missed your words completely but he was staring at you softly, so gentle that emotions almost clogged your throat up. You scrunched your nose, and Lando let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding because he knew what that scrunch meant. He knew that was something that you automatically did when you were close to tears.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but smile a little tearfully.

Leave it to Lando to never push, to always listen and never judge you when you were feeling every range of emotion. It always tugged at your heart. You truly loved him.

“I feel like a sack of potatoes when I see the girls.” You laughed wetly, reaching a hand up to wipe away at your eyes. Lando smiled when you unknowingly smeared your makeup. “They’re my friends and I don’t resent them for it, but it strikes me sometimes how we’re so different when it comes to looks.”

Lando frowned a little at that, placing a hand on top of yours. Palm against palm, pointer finger finding your pulse point on your wrist and resting it there. The way he always did.

“I like potatoes.” He murmured and you shot him a dry look. “But you’re right, you are different.”

That made you frown deeper, bottom lip sticking out in sadness and it broke Lando’s heart. He hurried to wipe under your eye with a thumb, smiling gently.

“You’re different because you’re my peach. You’re different in the way you treat people with so much kindness that it blows my mind sometimes. You’re different in the way you smile so hard that your eyes disappear, just like that.” You shielded your face behind your hand, letting out a laugh you couldn’t contain. “You treat me like me. Not like Lando, the driver. You shove me when I burp and you twist my arm when I tease you. And I love you for it. I love that you’re different, and I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else.”

You blinked at him, slowly letting his words sink in.

“You love me?” You asked, aware that he might’ve meant it platonically but Lando’s reaction made you stop breathing for a second.

His cheeks turned pink, palms flattening on the surface of the counter to push himself up, like he was trying to put a little distance between you two. You’d only ever seen him act this way a handful of times, eyes wide and a little panicked, tips of his ears red as he opened his mouth and closed it. Like finding the right words was suddenly difficult.

“I mean— I just meant…” His voice died, shrugging a little helplessly the longer you stared at him.

Your heart was going a mile a minute, not believing what you were seeing but if Lando was fumbling his words and shrugging like he was hoping you’d let it go, he was dead wrong. You were gonna grip this opportunity with both hands and hold on.

“Look,” He pulled a face, blowing out a sharp breath of air through his mouth. “If I tell you something, will you hold it against me?”

Fuck. It was happening, wasn’t it?

“Perhaps.” You answered, voice almost inaudible because you were putting all of your excess energy into not passing the fuck out.

Lando rolled his eyes, looking a little trapped all of a sudden and you hurriedly rounded the corner, smiling at him when he took a small step back the closer you got to him.

He glanced at the counter like he considered walking around it, putting the distance back between you two but you quickly grabbed his arm, prompting him to look at you.

“How long?” You asked, soft and quite frankly, a little stunned.

“What?” He asked but his eyes said it all.

“Lando.”

“Stop.” He laughed, sounding breathless and a little frustrated. “Stop saying my name like that.”

You frowned at him, tilting your head when he turned his gaze away. He still hadn’t pulled out of your hold though, not even when you palmed his left pectoral. You didn’t know if it was wishful thinking or your imagination, but there was a steady thud against your palm that felt a lot like his racing heart and it made you smile.

“Like what?”

Lando sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, letting it go with a tsk.

“Like you love me.” He said quietly.

It was like someone had reached down your throat and grabbed your heart, squeezing the blood out and popping the vessels. You almost gasped for breath, smile stretching your lips and Lando’s expression went from cautious to slightly hopeful.

“What if I do love you?” You asked.

“Then…” He trailed off when your hand travelled from his pec to his cheek, cupping it. “Then I’d say I love you. I’d say that I’ve always loved you.”

You let out a laugh, like the absurd amount of happiness blooming in your chest was too hard to contain. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, getting on your toes to hug him properly.

“Took you long enough.” You murmured against his ear and Lando squirmed, pinching your side just to hear you squeak.

It was his favourite sound in the world.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

this isn’t beta read, I wrote this in my notes app at work so I hope it’s okay 🫣 it wasn’t smut this time (sorry) but I wanted to save the juicy stuff for longer fics hehe. I hope you enjoy this xx