#I couldn’t decide which photo to use

[mmmfanfiction]

I want ALL of them

[network-rail]

I was heading into Euston (on a train) and I saw a heritage train pulling in at the same time. Inside there were a bunch of colored lights along with some children celebrating, which was quite mysterious until I saw the locomotive had a “Polar Express” plate on the front (and British Railways logo on the tender).

I also discovered that the ticket machines at Euston do not offer platform tickets, so I was only able to get a photo from the adjacent platform entrance (and a kind of blurry one from onboard my train).

[alchemiclee]

casual hu tao cosplay test 🤩👻

[chetter-holmgren]

Omggg I got tickets to Game 1 of the playoffs, I get to see Chet play in person again for the second time this season ‼️💙

[reasonsforhope]

Article

As he peered over a secluded cove off the coast of San Francisco, Gerry McChesney couldn’t believe the scene that was unfolding in front of him. 

Fur seal pups — hundreds of them — had taken over the inlet at the Farallon Islands National Wildlife Refuge and were bobbing on the surface of the water in a shiny, blubbery mass, likely hiding from great white sharks as they waited for their mothers to return from the sea to nurse. The sight wasn’t exactly unheard of — island biologists at Point Blue Conservation Science had first noticed the older seal pups using the cove as a covert hideout sometime last year, McChesney, a manager for the refuge, told SFGATE. But he was on the island one day in late October when biologist Jim Tietz delivered the news: The seals were back in full force, and in numbers they had never seen before. 

McChesney decided to go take a look for himself.

“I was amazed to see them all piled in there, getting tossed around like they were in a washing machine,” he told SFGATE in an email, adding that he counted 440 in all. “They looked pretty content and like they were having a good ol’ time.”

The video McChesney captured was shared by the United States Fish and Wildlife Service on social media earlier this week, garnering thousands of comments on Instagram and Facebook, with users referring to the phenomenon as “seal pup daycare” and “nature’s mosh pit.” 

To the biologists, it’s a sign of “a truly remarkable recovery.” 

The rookery’s history

The Farallon Islands host one of just two fur seal rookeries south of Alaska (the other being San Miguel Island in Santa Barbara County) after the species was completely wiped out from the area in the early 19th century. There was extensive seal hunting between about 1810 and 1838... In the first few years of widespread hunting, he estimates that over 150,000 fur seals were slaughtered (“The rookery must have been huge,” he noted) and soon, no fur seals could be found at the islands at all.

But large-scale market hunting came to an end by the mid-19th century, he said. In 1911, the United States signed the Northern Fur Seal Treaty, banning the hunting of marine mammals at sea. The Marine Mammal Protection Act, which prohibits killing and disturbing animals including seals, was established in 1972, further aiding in the protection of the species. Two years later, 141 acres of the islands were designated the Farallon Wilderness and were closed to the public in an attempt to mitigate human disturbance so the seals could return and “breed unfettered,” McChesney said. Large breeding colonies still persisted on the Pribilof Islands, Alaska, and the Commander Islands off eastern Siberia, and in 1996, a female fur seal from a recovered colony on the Channel Islands made her way back to the Farallones, giving birth to the first fur seal pup there after more than 150 years of the species’ absence.

Since then, “the Farallon population has been growing rapidly,” McChesney said. Within 15 years, the local population had boomed to 476 individuals, Bay Nature reported in 2018. Initially, they clustered in one area on the west end of the islands — but now, they’re beginning to expand.

Pictured: A photo of a northern fur seal in Alaska.

A seal surge

Pupping season runs from June to August, with most of the seals born in July and remaining in the breeding colony for a few months before they are weaned, usually by the end of November. Then, the newly independent animals go out to sea on their own. 

Farallon Island biologists from Point Blue Conservation Science have been documenting the population, and this year recorded 2,133 fur seals in total, including 1,276 pups, which McChesney called “the highest pup count yet.” 

“Given that the entire colony can’t be seen, this was a minimal count and there were certainly many more,” he noted.

Pictured: The Farallon Islands off the coast of San Francisco.

Though Point Blue biologists have never documented white sharks feeding on fur seal pups (they typically go for juvenile northern elephant seals and sea lions) the “threat of shark attacks on the seal pups is certainly there and I’m sure the pups are aware of that,” McChesney said. “The cove where the video was taken provides a secluded spot to swim and play without worrying about the sharks.”

When the mothers return, they find their pups by using a distinctive call. But in the meantime, the pups seem not to mind the hours away in their secret hideout where they can splash and play to their hearts’ content.

“It was so much fun to watch,” McChesney said. “And knowing that the sight represents such an amazing comeback for their population made the sight mean so much more.”

-via SF Gate, December 23, 2024

[pbpressure]

capture | p.b

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff (reader sounds a little clingy but its cute), fingering (reader receiving), oral (paige receiving), some yearning, hair pulling, slight dom sub dynamics but nothing too serious. lmk if i missed anything!

wc: 3.3k (slight pwp, cmon act like you know me)

summary: paige and reader are out of the country but want to be inside each other LMAO

authors note: i don’t even know what to call this, i barely proofread it. i’ve honestly been having such a hard time writing but hopefully this suffices for now! munch madness i mean march madness is upon us hehe

enjoy! x

when paige told you that she booked you two a getaway for spring break you had no idea that it would be this luxurious.

the room alone was huge. windows covering an entire wall from ceiling to floor. most surfaces were covered in beautiful decor and the bed faced the humongous pool that sat just beyond the deck outside. it was perfect.

you couldn’t actually fuss about the cost or how hard it must’ve been to book because paige was quick to hush you with a kiss on your forehead and mutter how she’d always “do anything for you.”

the vacation honestly felt more like you both ran away. off of your phones for days, with the exception of checking in with family and taking numerous photos. although it wasn’t intentionally secretive that made it even more enjoyable.

the beach, which you had visited every day thus far due to its close proximity, was perfect. the area surrounding your villa nice and quiet as well. 

of course with the extra rest time that comes with a vacation you had encouraged paige to rest, that’s all you wanted for the both of you. but after the first two days you realized that even you could only nap so much. 

today after a little more exploring the amenities of your villa you did lay down together and close your eyes for a bit. when you open them again you don’t know how much time has passed, but paige was knocked out of course.

you had been awake for a good 20 minutes. in your defense you did try to close your eyes again but it was unsuccessful.

your body was draped over paige’s, one of her hands resting naturally on your thigh that was slung across her hips. her bicep flexed slightly as it was propping her head up on the pillow. you catch yourself silently chuckling when you realize you were just staring at her in awe.

it was all so domestic. from the sleeping position to the way that one of the only noises you could hear were little puffs of air from paige’s parted lips. if you could capture the feeling into one world it would be complete. or maybe absolute.

you’re aching at this point from craning your neck to gawk at paige and you honestly feel ridiculous for how long you’ve been laying like this.

with the urge to bask in the sun and swim a little you gently turn over, lifting paige’s arm from you. you slip out of bed, careful not to wake her and you quietly get changed and head outside. 

the wide window in the room gave her a clear view of the pool. hopefully she’d wake up, see you perched in a chair, and come join you.

her nap actually lasts way longer than you anticipated and you were getting antsy. you read your book until you couldn't anymore and switched your lying position too many times to count. it had already been about an hour and a half since you’d got up from the bed and paige was still asleep.

the sun was starting to set and you hoped she would get up soon, but alas the impatience was becoming a bit painful. 

you pick up your phone deciding to text paige and immediately open the camera. putting a slight pout in your lips you take a selfie, tits perky and in frame. then you flip the camera and angle your phone down to get your entire lower body and the pool in one picture. you take the photo, press send and quickly type up something to emphasize on the amount of notifications she’d get. 

*buzz* 1 attachment 

*buzz* p, can you nap faster? i’m…bored.

*buzz* 1 attachment 

of course paige was still on dnd so naturally you pressed the notify anyway button. sighing in contentment you decide to get up off your ass (hardly) and sit in the hot tub that was adjacent, waiting for your girlfriend.

your texts didn’t wake paige, she had already started tossing and turning a bit ago signaling the end of her nap.

however, when she did pick up the phone after realizing you were no longer lying beside her she felt her eyes go so wide that they could have bulged out of her head.

she looks at both the pictures you sent and exhales sharply, running a hand over her face in disbelief.

the blonde couldn’t help but glance outside, eyes instantly making contact with your bikini clad figure. she bit her lip as her eyes ran up and down your body.

your hair had gotten wet and began to cling to your chest and neck that was now glistening and catching a slight glow from the fluorescent lights in the hot tub. your lips were glossy, as always, and they were parted while you let out what looked like a sigh.

she lifts her phone from the bed swiping the camera icon at the bottom of the screen.

these photos were for her, but also to show you how good you really did look.

your head is slightly tilted to the side when she snaps the photo. you’re standing to adjust yourself so your hips come up to the surface of the water. she almost drools looking back at the way she had captured you before she presses the blue arrow in the text bar. 

getting up and changing out of her clothes and into her swimsuit she hurries outside. 

when you hear the sliding door your attention is on paige as she makes her way to the hot tub.

your eyes light up and you grin, pleased to see her awake. when you notice that she’s getting in the water, you have to force yourself not to stare.

her abdomen toned and flexing with each step she took. chest exposed and already showing a tan as a result of earlier time spent in the sun.

“so you missed me?” paige breaks the silence once she’s settled into the water across from you.

“don’t act shocked.” you scoff.

“oh, i’m not. it’s just…cute ‘s all.” she says, lifting her eyebrow a bit and stifling a giggle when she sees you roll your eyes.

“i sat out here for almost two hours while you slept, it got boring fast. plus i knew you’d want to watch the sunset so i hoped you’d wake up in time.”

paige’s heart swells at the confession. she had just been a threshold away from you asleep and still the only thing on your mind. it was never a secret between the two of you or to anyone else how obsessed you were with each other. but that didn’t mean it got old. 

“as great as it is to rest, i'm glad i woke up in time to catch the sunset,” paige starts. “and you in this…this bikini?”

“what do you mean? it is a bikini.” you contest, raising your own eyebrow now and anticipating how paige would admit that your bathing suit barely covering anything was causing her own skin to run hot.

her cheeks are beet red and she purses her lips together to stop herself from smiling like an idiot.

“you know exactly what i mean.” she mutters, voice suggestive. 

you do fully giggle this time, leaning your head back. when you’re done laughing you unintentionally press your entire body forward for a second when you rest your arms on the sides of the hot tub. 

you watch the blonde across from you lick her lips as her eyes travel straight to your tits, back up to your face, and then to your tits one last time before she opens her mouth once more.

“I loved the photos by the way. can’t say they compare to having you right here within my reach, but you look amazing.”

“thank you baby. wanna say it again and look me in the eyes this time?”

tonguing her cheek to hold in a laugh she shakes her head. partially because she was caught ogling and partially at how bratty you were being.

“i can show you better than i can tell you.”

“yeah?” you taunt, tilting your head.

“get over here.”

you practically pounce on her with how quickly you travel from your end of the water to her lap. she wastes no time grabbing your hips so you’re comfortably straddling her.

you let out a hiss when she presses your hips down, forcing you to sit on her completely. you had been riled up since she stepped outside, the friction on your clit from the material of your swim bottoms wasn’t helping.

paige brings a wet hand up to cradle your chin, turning your head to face her completely. she pulls you closer, not kissing you yet.

“you really are so gorgeous, you know that?” paige mutters, lips ghosting over yours.

“p, have you seen yourself? cmon now–“ 

“this isn’t about me, baby.” 

she stops you mid thought with a soft peck on the lips. although it’s feather light a smack sounds between you both at how quickly it happened.

you whine when she pulls back and you don’t miss how she smirks at your reaction.

“don’t be a brat.”

“okay, then kiss me.” you groan, bringing your arms above the water to wrap around her neck, closing the bit of distance that's between your lips.

it’s already warm in the water that’s ricocheting against the walls of the hot tub and your bodies, but the way that paige moans into your mouth when she kisses you back heats you up more.

for a while you’re just kissing like horny teenagers. it’s sloppy and wet and you pull away panting a little. 

you run your hands through paige’s hair and study her features before leaning in to kiss her again, stopping just barely before your lips meet. she closes her eyes in anticipation but opens them after she realizes you’re not gonna kiss her. 

“like i was saying,” you whisper, struggling to hold eye contact when you feel her breath hitch against your lips. 

“i could look at you all day.” you lean in, intending just to give her a peck like she did you earlier. but the moment your lips lock one of her hands is holding you by the back of the neck, it was firm but she knew you weren’t gonna pull away.

she parts your lips with her tongue and it’s your turn to moan into her mouth. you can’t help the grinding of your hips, rutting against her eager for your clit to make contact with part of her somehow. she takes note of this and takes her hand off of your neck, it disappears under the water quickly. 

she uses two fingers to push your bathing suit to the side, immediately pressing onto your clit. you pull back from the kiss to gasp, eyes heavy as you try to keep them open and on paige.

“just look? i mean, i’m flattered but there’s a lot that i’d rather do to you all day.” she trails off, now circling your clit with her fingers, watching your reaction intently.

“f-fuck, you know what i m-mean. i always want to look at you, kiss you, touch and feel you. i’m so in love with you baby. you’re so good to me.” you ramble, bucking your hips to signal that you wanted her fingers inside.

“yeah?” she was mocking you. “sure you’re not just saying that because you want something from me right now?” 

her voice was low and her eyes never left yours. hearing her say that while her hand was between your legs caused you to clench around nothing.

of course it wasn’t true, and you both knew it, before you could give her any attitude her middle and ring finger were thrusting into your cunt. 

“p, oh my god–“ you don’t even finish your sentence.

the ease in which the heel of her palm met your clit was almost embarrassing. it was like your pussy was made to take her fingers. 

your jaw goes slack, and you struggle to breathe out for a split second. since you were on top of her she was already prodding at the spongy spot you knew all too well, each thrust making you shudder and clench harder around her fingers.

“‘s so good, so deep!” you pant.

“i know pretty girl,” she pants, placing kisses your chest. her tongue is hot when it comes in contact with the same spots she pecked. she uses her free hand to move your hips until you get the idea and start riding her fingers, already close to your release from how long you'd waited to have her.

“keep it up, i can feel how close you are baby.” she says, voice muffled by the skin of your tits that she’s still burying her face in.

it doesn’t take long for your hips to begin to circle messily, your eyes are squeezed shut and your entire body is on fire. 

curling her fingers as they drilled into your hole, paige uses her thumb to fondle your clit. not letting up on her thrusts she leans forward to tongue your nipple through your bikini top and your head falls back as you let out a sound that mimics sob. you take in one sharp breath before letting out a moan that’s borderline pornographic. 

paige’s eyes are on you, watching your face and body contort with pleasure. her lips are parted, eyebrows furrowed, and she’s moaning occasionally too with the way your cunt was fluttering around her fingers. she was getting off on this just as much as you were.

“shit! p-please don’t stop, i’m so close.” you choke, hands gripping onto her shoulders like she had intentions to run away.

“you wanna cum for me?” she coos, once again in a mocking manner.

you attempt to nod but paige starts making a scissoring motion inside of you with her fingers and you’re already feeling static from head to toe. 

you do cum, literally into the palm of her hand. she can’t hide how badly she’s into this shit and you can feel her smiling against your skin as she kisses any part of you that her lips can reach, milking you through the rest of your high. 

when you’re starting to catch your breath you feel paige curl her fingers inside you again. 

choking on a mixture of a scream and a moan you have to reach down and hold her wrist to stop her from stimulating you more.

“p that’s enough, what about you?” you ask, already licking your lips at the thought of getting to have your way with her next.

“what about me?” she responds, placing another hot kiss on your neck and making zero effort to move from her current position: beneath you with her hand between your legs.

“i want to taste you. please?” you whisper the last part. it came out as more of a plea than you realized but you didn’t care. 

on wobbly legs you stand, pulling paige to her feet as well. 

she towers over you, bending down to kiss you again. you kiss back hungrily and place your hands on her hips and guide her to sit on the edge of the hot tub.

she parts her legs for you and you grip onto her thighs with gentle hands. looking up at her as you kneel and begin to pepper light kisses on her damp skin. her breathing gets harder the closer you get to where she wants to feel you the most.

“you were just begging to taste me, don’t tease me.” paige groans, placing a hand on the back of your head to guide you. 

you place an open mouthed kiss on her clit through her swim bottoms and she shudders at the feeling. using two fingers you pull them to the side and kiss the same spot, this time skin to skin.

paige gasps, the hand that was on the back of your head threading through your hair for a better grip. 

you lift your other hand and use two fingers to part her lips. as slow as you can manage you lick sloppily from her clit to her hole and your eyes roll back into your head when you feel her gush into your mouth. 

“fuck!” paige whines, throwing her head back. 

you relax your jaw and stick your tongue out again, shaking your head from side to side, intentionally making a little extra noise to add to the crudeness of the act.

paige’s chest is rising and falling rapidly as she pants, simultaneously trying to watching you pleasure her. when you both lock eyes you moan and take her clit between your lips sucking on it messily. 

this sends her into a frenzy. 

although paige was never afraid to be vocal with you, this was possibly the loudest she had ever been during oral. you’re gloating mentally as you start literally making out with her cunt. 

it’s lewd and you love it, clearly she does too. you feel her thighs start to close around your head and when you force them apart you watch her throw her head back and reach up to play with her nipples.

“you’re doing so good for me baby, it’s almost like you were made for this.” paige groans, pulling on your hair a little harder than she had intended, almost cumming from the moan you let out against her.

“i was made for you.” you pull back and pant before lowering your head again and thrusting your tongue into her, using your thumb to circle her clit.

paige is a babbling mess and you can feel her start to thrash around slightly.

“f-fuck! i’m almost there.” she manages to spit out, a yelp following as her thighs start to shake.

it doesn't take much more and as soon as you can hear her you can taste her. she cums, hot and immediately coating your lips and chin. 

paige’s back is arched as she tries to close her legs around your head. you’re pussy drunk and have no intentions of pulling back despite the way that she’s nearly sobbing every time you flick her aching clit with your tongue. 

one final harsh tug at your hair causes you to pull away from her breathing heavily and with a groan. instantly she’s pulling you to your feet and against her body. 

when you’re face to face you’re obsessed with how fucked out paige looks. her lips pink and puffy, eyes glossed over, and hair a mess.

when she pulls you in your lips make contact and you smirk into the kiss at the thought of her being so eager to taste herself.

after a few more sloppy languid kisses you drop your head to her shoulder and she leans forward,

submerging you both into the warm water once again.

“that was so sexy.” you mutter, voice hoarse. 

“you need to wear this bikini anytime we are near a body of water, for the rest of this trip.” paige says, causing a giggle to bubble in your chest that pressed against hers.

“whatever you say, p.” you reply, tone singsong like.

your back hits the wall of the other side of the hot tub and paige wraps your legs around her waist and stands again.

reaching behind you towards your towel and other belongings you grab your phone, thinking of how much you wanted to capture this moment.

when the screen lights up and you see the last text you received your mouth opens in shock and you can’t help the way that your cheeks rise. you're grinning like an idiot.

2 attachments

i need that.

“paige!” you say, looking up from behind your phone to catch her already smiling back at you, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

“i mean...i got it, didn’t i?”

[clockwayswrites]

Distracting Birb! Part 28

*throws this and runs* Masterpost

“So what did you find out?” Tim asked as he spun around. He was at the computer, of course, and looked most of the way to villainy backlit by the large screens.

(Dick loved his little brother, but villainy really wouldn’t be the most surprising outcome for Tim.)

“What makes you think we found anything?” Jason answered, just to be impertinent.

Tim rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have called us all down to the Cave if you didn’t have anything.”

Jason scoffed. “You underestimate how willing I am to waste your time.”

“Boys,” Cass said calmly, ending the growing argument with just that word.

“Duke still out on patrol?” Dick asked as a distraction.

Tim glanced over his shoulder and back at the screen. “On his way back. He’ll be here in fifteenish.”

Best not to wait in case Danny woke, Dick decided. They’d be sure to fill him in. “Okay. Well, Danny was not lying, he has a lot of plants.”

“Dick managed to turn on the watering system. We’re all very proud of him,” Jason said flatly.

The siblings all golf clapped, which Dick took a dramatic bow to. “Thank you, thank you. Otherwise a pretty normal apartment. Comfortable, a little nerdy, and not fussy.”

Jason nodded. “There’s a hero—not sure if someone real or fictional—that we saw a few times. Someone called Phantom.”

Obliging, Dick sent the photo of the mug from the bathroom up onto one of the screens. Tim spun back to the computer and started searching.

“There were also a lot of medication in his cabinet; vitamins and several prescriptions also. Some of them had weird labels.”

“Damn, Dick, you couldn’t have gotten a clearer photo?” Tim asked as he squinted at the new set of images.

“As much as I hate to defend Dick,” Jason said as he added photos of his own to the screen, ‘that is a clear photo. Danny was writing in the same language along with English in a bedside notebook of his.”

“Are you in need of glasses, Drake?” Damian asked as he looked from the photos to Tim with a judgmental brow raised.

Tim flicked him off, which Dick considered telling Tim off for (Damian had enough bad habits), but was actually curious about this. “No. The text looks glitched out.’

“No,” Damian said slowly and with a scowl, “it is clear. Odd, but clear.”

“Cass?” Dick asked.

She moved a step closer to the television, head tilted. There was a long, quiet moment before she lifted her hand a gave a so-so motion.

Tim looked from her, to Damian, to the screens. “…Dick?”

“So that’s the thing, it looks wrong to me too. If I look at it too long it’s like it gives me a headache. Jason can read it though.”

Jason snorted. “That’s taking it a bit far. I feel like I should be able to read it. I can get a word here or there maybe.”

“Like it whispers,” Damian said, the quiet words oddly poetic for the youngest of them.

“…yeah, like it whispers,” Jason agreed, just as softly.

“Right, okay. Freaky language that only some of us can even see, much less read, and those who can have spent a lot of time in or around the league,” Tim said. “How concerned do we need to be able this? To we need to be concerned about this? I feel like we need to be concerned about this.”

None of them had an easy answer for Tim.

All of them were grateful for the roar of Duke’s bike interrupting the conversation as he pulled into the cave.

“What are you all looking some grim about?” Duke asked. He yanked his helmet off and took a deep breath, like he hadn’t been able to breath in hours.

It was a feeling they all got. Even a good patrol was draining and Duke had been actively on follow up over what had gone down today with the Mad Hatter. Dick tossed a towel Duke’s way and went to grab a drink for the other from the food safe fridge.

“Stuff from Danny’s place. Take a look at the screen,” Jason said.

“Danny? I thought that we liked the guy,” Duke said, accepting the drink with a grateful thank you. He drained half of it his the way to the screens. “Shit, that’s a lot of meds.”

“Take a closer look,” Jason said, though not unkindly.

Duke stepped closer to the screen.

And went alarmingly still.

Dick resisted the instinctual urge to reach out and grab him. “Duke?”

Duke gave an answering hum and turned his head, just slightly, towards Dick. His eyes never left the screen. Dick wasn’t sure if Duke had really heard him. It was Jason who ended up acting, ended up listening to that instinct. He stepped between Duke and the screen, blocking their newest brother’s view. Duke sucked in a sharp, startled breath.

“What?”

“Hey, come on, have a seat,” Jason said and guided Duke backwards into one of the chairs at the table.

Tim swiftly cleared the photos from the screen.

Duke shook his head. “Sorry, man, I don’t know what… that, huh. What did those look like to you all?”

“Magenta tinted pill bottles with different levels of medication in them,” Tim replied calmly. “Dick and I can’t read what’s printed on them. Damian, Jason, and maybe Cass can a little which means it might be League writing of some sort.”

Dick leaned against the table. “What did you see, Duke?”

“Magenta tinted pill bottles with something in them. Like whatever it was my powers were weird about it. I’d have to see them in person to know anything about why, I guess, but they were… I don’t know. But whatever that stuff was I don��t think it’s League because I don’t think it’s human. I don’t think it’s earthly.”

“Well, fuck,” Dick said with a sigh.

He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

[gabibunni]

Jason looks out of place

That’s something Jason thinks to himself all the time when he stays at your place.

Jason looks like an action figure stuck in a teenage girl's bedroom. He’s about 182 centimeters, big and bulky. His clothes make him even bigger than he really is.

Your queen size bed is covered in a black fitted sheet, a dark red comforter and a leopard throw blanket. He looks like a shy pimp laying in your bed napping. Your dresser has lotions, perfumes, body sprays and photos all across the top. Your walls are painted a dark colour, with art to match the vibe.

You have shelves of comics and trinkets all over the place. Somehow, your jelly cat (which he got for you) and crocheted stuffies are pushed onto the ground on the other half of your room. Your bedroom is somewhat small too so he looks even funnier in your head.

You make your way into your bathroom where you see some of his stuff in there. Toothbrush, cologne, towels, and other little things. You can't help but smile because even though he claims he doesn’t want to move in with you, you can tell he at least finds comfort in you, a home. When you walk into your closet, you see your things in there and Jason’s. He has his own row in there filled with button up shirts, hoodies, pants and boots. You can’t bring this up because he’ll start deflecting and apologizing for taking up space.

In your kitchen, he has his own mug that he drinks out of. Slightly cracked and chipped in a few places but he doesn’t have the heart to throw it away. He has spices that he uses the most compared to you. A frying pan he makes breakfast for the two of you. He made your kitchen his own in different ways, from utensils to aprons.

Your living room has books thrown around on the coffee table and end table. All the books have been thoroughly loved and used, not by you, but Jason. A throw blanket he uses when he comes home late but for some reason won't wake you. You can beg a plea but he won’t disturb your sleep, even if his late night naps do bother you.

A secret he keeps from you, not because it's necessarily bad but, a gun strapped underneath your coffee table, somewhere in the kitchen, and your bedroom closet are there for “just in case.” You know about them, but you don’t have the heart to tell him. If it keeps his mind at ease, you’re happy they are there. If he does decide to officially move in with you, locks, and windows would need to be updated, right after he’d put in cameras.

Jason thinks he looks out of place in your world, but he couldn’t be more wrong. He’s right where he’s supposed to be. Loved, accepted, and at peace.

He probably overthinks often, let’s be honest here. He’d be surprised by how much you care for him, even though you tell him all the time. I find that people love the dynamic of Jason just being loved so I might write more of that.

[littlelamy]

rafe’s panty obsession

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. rafe cameron didn’t do infatuation—not like this, not this utterly consumed way where the line between obsession and desire blurred until it was just... madness. he had meant to just grab one pair of your panties, a stupid, reckless thrill to satisfy the darker corners of his mind. just one, and he’d be done.

that was five trips ago.

now here he was, sneaking back into your house again, his chest tight and pulse racing. it was the fifth time this week, and rafe couldn’t stop himself. not even a stern talk in the mirror about how insane this was had deterred him. it wasn’t like you didn’t like having him over; you practically glowed whenever he swung by, which only made it worse. you thought he just enjoyed hanging out at your place, enamored by your sweet personality or the way your laugh lit up the room.

and okay, yeah, rafe did like those things. but they weren’t the reason he kept coming back. no, the reason was tucked away in your hamper and drawers, lacy and delicate, scented faintly with your arousal. he was utterly hooked on the thought of you wearing them, of the intimate glimpse they gave into your world. and it wasn’t just about the panties—though, god, they made him lose his mind. it was you, the sweet innocence you exuded, that made his obsession spiral.

if only he knew you weren’t as innocent as you seemed.

you had noticed rafe’s peculiar behavior weeks ago. at first, you brushed it off as just him being rafe—arrogant, charming, always lingering too long in your personal space. but then, you’d caught him red-handed, fumbling with your drawer when he thought you were in the shower. he hadn’t seen you peek around the corner, hadn’t noticed the way your jaw had dropped when he slipped a pair of your panties into his pocket and left like nothing had happened.

it wasn’t disgust you felt, surprisingly. it was pure lust.

instead of confronting him, you decided to watch. you started paying closer attention to his movements when he was over, strategically leaving him alone in your room just to see if he’d do it again. he did. every single time. and you, instead of stopping him, started taking pictures. at first, they were innocent enough—just snapshots of him rummaging around like a guilty little boy. but then, the photos became something else. you began capturing the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the way his jaw clenched when he held your panties to his nose and inhaled like a man starved.

you couldn’t explain why it turned you on, but it did.

now, weeks later, you had a collection of photos hidden in your phone, and the sight of rafe in your room no longer shocked you. tonight, he was particularly bold. you had invited him over for dinner, and he had made some excuse about needing to use the bathroom. you knew better. quietly, you followed him up the stairs, camera ready, as he slipped into your bedroom.

rafe’s hands shook as he opened your drawer. he hated how addicted he had become to this. it was like his brain short-circuited every time he got close to your stuff. he grabbed a pale pink pair this time, the fabric soft and delicate between his fingers. his imagination ran wild—thinking about you wearing them, thinking about peeling them off you.

“you really can’t help yourself, huh?”

rafe froze. his blood ran cold, the pink panties still clutched in his hand as your voice broke the silence. slowly, he turned around, his face flushing a deep crimson when he saw you standing in the doorway, phone in hand, a knowing smirk on your lips.

“y/n,” he stammered, his voice thick with panic. “i—this isn’t—”

“oh, don’t even bother lying,” you interrupted, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you. “i’ve known for weeks, rafe. you’re not exactly subtle.”

his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. you held up your phone, showing him a picture you’d taken just days ago of him with your lacy panties in his hand, taking a deep inhale of the seat.

“i have a whole collection,” you teased, your smirk growing wider. “you’re not the only one with a little... obsession.”

rafe’s eyes darkened at your words. “what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice low and edged with something dangerous.

you shrugged, moving closer. “i’ve been watching you. taking pictures. at first, i thought it was just funny, you sneaking around like a kid caught stealing candy. but then...” you trailed off, tilting your head as you met his gaze. “then i realized i kind of liked it.”

his breath hitched. “you... like it?”

“maybe,” you said coyly. “but i also like idea of you pleasuring yourself to my panties.”

rafe swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. he felt trapped, exposed, but the way you were looking at him—with a mix of amusement and something far darker—made his blood heat. “so, what now?” he asked, his voice thick with tension. “you gonna tell me to get out? call the cops?”

you laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his stomach flip. “no, rafe. i’m not gonna kick you out. but i think it’s time we stop pretending.”

“pretending?”

“that i’m this innocent little thing you’ve built up in your head,” you said, stepping closer until you were just inches away. “i know what you’ve been doing, and i let you. hell, i wanted you to. but now, i think it’s time you earn what you’ve been sneaking around for.”

rafe’s mouth went dry. “what does that mean?”

you smiled, reaching out to pluck the pink panties from his hand. “it means,” you said, your voice dropping to a whisper, “you don’t have to steal anymore.”

his heart was a drum in his chest, loud and erratic, drowning out the world around him. your words hung in the air, daring him to cross the line he’d been skirting for weeks. your lips curved into a teasing smile, your gaze unwavering as you stepped even closer, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off you.

“y/n,” he murmured, your name barely audible over the pounding in his ears. his hands clenched at his sides, torn between pulling you closer and keeping some semblance of control.

“what’s wrong, rafe?” you asked softly, your voice dripping with challenge. “you were bold enough to sneak into my room. now you’re scared to touch me?”

his restraint snapped. in a swift motion, his hands cupped your face, and his lips crashed against yours. the kiss was messy, heated, and filled with weeks of pent-up frustration. your hands flew to his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as you kissed him back just as fervently. his tongue slid against yours, claiming, searching, as if trying to drink in every bit of you he could.

you moaned softly into his mouth, and rafe swore he saw stars. his hands roamed down, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. the pink panties you’d taken from him fell to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

when you finally broke apart, your breaths mingled in the small space between you. your lips were swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes sparkled with something that made rafe’s knees weak.

“guess you’re not as shy as i thought,” you teased, your voice breathless.

“you drive me insane, y’know that?” he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours. his thumb traced your cheek, softer now, though the fire in his eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“good,” you said, smirking as your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt. “because i’m not done with you yet.”

rafe’s grin mirrored yours, all sharp edges and wicked intent. “oh, trust me, neither am i.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills

[witchywithwhiskey]

an afternoon of pumpkin picking

pairing: sugar daddy!ransom drysdale x sugar baby!female reader

summary: you've convinced your sugar daddy to take you pumpkin picking—despite his reservations about spending any amount of time on a farm—and the perfectly autumnal date takes a turn when deeper feelings come to light.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, smut, unprotected sex, masturbation (f), guided masturbation, piv sex, outdoor sex, creampie, filming/recording/taking sexual photos, oral sex (m receiving), light bdsm, free use, pussy spanking, panty sniffing, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, pet names (nixie, baby), love confessions (a bit of idiots in love), aftercare, happy ending, so much fluff

word count: 11.6k

a/n: this fic is inspired by this exchange about various babes as sugar daddies taking their sugar babies on fall dates. i loved the idea of ransom being a little grumpy about going pumpkin picking, and then it morphed into this because i decided i wanted to explore their deeper emotional connection so uh it ended up being a lot longer than i expected. but it's also very cozy and smutty and fluffy and perfect for this time of year!!! anyway, i had fun writing this, so i hope y'all enjoy reading it!!

Can’t believe you talked me into this.

The text from your sugar daddy, Ransom Drysdale, arrived on a brisk September morning as you were getting ready for the perfectly autumnal date you’d convinced him to plan. As you read the message, you could practically hear the affectionate exasperation in his tone, which made you smile to yourself.

It had taken quite a bit of your powers of persuasion to get Ransom Drysdale—the heir to the Blood Like Wine Publishing dynasty and the most blue-blooded Boston man you’d ever met—to agree to take you pumpkin picking out in the “boonies,” as he called anywhere beyond the city limits that wasn’t his “ancestral estate” (also his words). 

But since you’d been seeing him for over a year, you knew all of Ransom’s weaknesses. And you’d used them to make a deal with your sugar daddy.

You’re going to have fun, I promise :) Don’t forget our deal.

You certainly hoped Ransom hadn’t forgotten about the arrangement you’d struck that ended up with him taking you pumpkin picking, especially since it was all you could think about that morning as you got ready and did your hair and makeup. Your thoughts kept straying to the deal you’d made, what you’d given him in exchange for the autumnal date of your dreams. 

Ransom Drysdale was a dealmaker by trade, overseeing all publication acquisitions for Blood Like Wine. So after all your normal methods of persuasion had failed to convince him to take you pumpkin picking, you’d offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse. It was one that you knew you both would enjoy, but Ransom especially since it appealed to his nature. 

A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine as you stood inside the walk-in closet of your Beacon Hill townhouse apartment—the one Ransom paid for, of course. 

It had been a gift when you’d accepted his request to be exclusively his sugar baby. He was the only man in your life anymore, and he’d said he wanted to make sure you were taken care of, so he got you the apartment and set up an allowance to make up for the other relationships you’d had to end.

Truthfully, it had been an incredibly easy decision to accept Ransom’s request. He was easily the youngest and handsomest of any man you’d been a sugar baby to—and if you had the tiniest little crush on him, you’d been certain you’d be able to keep it locked down so you didn’t jeopardize your relationship. 

After all, Ransom had been clear when you first met: He wasn’t looking to fall in love.

Unfortunately for you, over the year that you’d been seeing him exclusively, your crush had blossomed into full-blown feelings. It was hard not to care for the grumpy, sarcastic publishing executive. He made you laugh, he made you feel safe, and the sex with him was better than any you’d ever had.

More than a year into seeing him and it got harder and harder to hide the fact that you cared deeply for him. You wanted to bundle yourself in one of his sweaters and stay with him forever—but you knew you couldn’t let on about your feelings. You didn’t want to risk him finding out and ending your relationship because he feared you were falling in love with him…

Of course, there were other ways your relationship could end.

Your fingers toyed with the sleeve of a sweater hanging in your closet as you thought about your sugar daddy. A pit in your stomach opened wide as you considered, yet again, it was probably inevitable that one day he would grow tired of you and move on to someone else. Even if you didn’t tell him how you felt, he could still leave you.

It was what happened with these kinds of relationships—the men left when they got bored or tired. Or when they wanted to settle down. Or when they fell in love with someone else.

Add to that, you were keenly aware that you were getting old enough that a man as young as Ransom—who was in his 40s—might want to soon trade you in for a newer, younger model. 

The thought broke your heart a little, and you had to push it away. You cut off the entire train of thought, knowing that it would lead nowhere good, especially when your sugar daddy was due to pick you up in just a short time. As you went back to getting ready, in your mind, you repeated your mantra to yourself: You would not love Ransom Drysdale.

It was a lie, of course, but you were hoping that if you said it to yourself enough times it would become true. It hadn’t worked yet, though. 

Thankfully, your phone vibrated, distracting you.

Wear that skirt I like. And one of the sweaters you stole from me.

A huff of an affronted laugh escaped you at the brisk tone of Ransom’s message. You hated it when he barked orders at you like you were one of the interns at his office. Sure, technically you were his employee, but he didn’t have to use that tone—especially before a date.

You assumed he was cranky because he still didn’t want to go pumpkin picking, but that didn’t mean you had to put up with it. Or respond at all. Even if you did follow his orders, since that was part of your deal for the day.

Tossing your phone on your bed without replying, you pulled out the skirt he was referring to from your closet. It was a short, flouncy thing that swished dangerously around your thighs, offering tantalizing teases of your ass to anyone who might be looking at your backside. 

Ransom loved it because it afforded him a sneak peek of what lingerie you were wearing. One of his favorite things to gift you as his sugar baby was lingerie. He loved seeing you in it, touching you in it, fucking you in it. And what he liked most was sneaking a peek of your lingerie from those glimpses beneath your flouncy skirt.

On that September morning, you selected a black satin matching set to wear beneath the skirt, then pulled a maroon sweater from the pile in your closet.

He may have been a spoiled, rich man, but Ransom was a gentleman, and if you were cold, he’d give you his sweater—which was how you’d amassed a small hoard of your sugar daddy’s sweaters. You never could bring yourself to give them back once they made their way into your closet. Nor could you bear to wash them. 

In your loneliest moments, you’d pull on one of Ransom’s sweaters and let the expensive scent of his cologne comfort you. He smelled like whiskey and something spicy—something that matched perfectly with the fall and winter. 

You’d never told anyone about wearing Ransom’s sweaters when you were alone in your Beacon Hill apartment, but your sugar daddy knew you’d collected many of them. 

Ransom didn’t seem to mind, though. Or, at least, he never asked for them back. But sometimes, like that day, he’d ask that you wear one for him. It always sent a special thrill through you to wear your sugar daddy’s sweaters, like it meant he was staking a claim on you that was deeper and more like a typical romantic relationship. 

A giddy, happy smile curled your lips as you got dressed and added jewelry before checking to make sure your hair and makeup were still done to your satisfaction. 

You were just pulling on some black mary jane shoes when your phone chimed with another text. 

Let me see, nixie. 

Your traitorous heart fluttered at the nickname. Most of the sugar daddies you’d had relationships with called you by much more common pet names—sweetheart, honey—if they used them at all. But leave it to Ransom to pull a pet name from obscure European folklore. 

You’d had to look it up after the first time he used it, and when you found out it was a kind of river mermaid who lured men to their deaths, you’d laughed to yourself. Ransom had essentially likened you to a siren, and at the time, you’d wondered if he believed you could lure him to his death. It seemed ridiculous, especially when you were the one in danger of getting their heart broken.

Sometimes, when he used that pet name, you wondered if Ransom liked you as much as you liked him. If that was why he’d chosen it, because he worried you’d hurt him somehow. But that was a dangerous thought and you reminded yourself it would only lead to heartbreak. 

You tried not to have a reaction to the nickname. You tried to stop your heart from fluttering and your lips from curving into a smile. But it was impossible.

So to distract yourself, you did as Ransom had asked in his message. You snapped a quick photo of your outfit—the short, flouncy skirt paired with his maroon sweater and your black mary janes. You’d chosen to forgo tights because September in Massachusetts could get warm, especially with the sun shining as brightly as it was outside your window.

You sent the photo and began gathering your things to wait for Ransom to arrive for your date, but his response came back quicker than you expected.

Pretty, but I want to see it in person. I’m outside.

Your heart gave another flutter at the compliment, then flipped entirely when he said he was outside. Bounding to your bedroom window that overlooked the cobblestone streets of Beacon Hill, you grinned when you saw Ransom’s silver 1972 BMW coupe parked outside your door. 

Ransom might not be as excited for your pumpkin picking date as you were, but he was early. That had to mean something, right? 

You didn’t let that thought flourish any further, pushing it aside as you grabbed your keys and phone and shoved them in the bag you’d picked to match your outfit. Then you were flouncing down the stairs of your townhouse to the front door and pushing through it, pausing only to lock it behind you.

When you turned to the street, you were struck with the sight of Ransom Drysdale leaning against his BMW, a to-go cup of coffee in his hand. Your heart raced and your belly swooped—it felt like your entire body was having a visceral reaction to seeing Ransom dressed in an autumnal outfit that suited him so well.

A golden brown wool coat hung off Ransom’s broad shoulders, slightly obscuring the worn cream-colored cable knit sweater that covered his expansive chest. A purple and gold scarf with some kind of intricate design hung casually around his neck, adding to the look that was completed by dark slacks, brown loafers and a pair of sunglasses with gold rims that matched the rings he wore on his hands.

Despite his sunglasses, you could feel Ransom’s eyes on you and you bit your lip against a giddy grin, worried that your schoolgirl crush on your sugar daddy would show plain as day on your face if you let it slip free. Instead, you gave him an exaggerated onceover before letting out a low whistle of appreciation as you stepped into the narrow sidewalk lining the cobblestone street.

“Quit gawking and c’mere, nixie,” Ransom growled, using his free hand to grab your waist and pull you into him. 

You landed against his broad, muscular chest with a light, “oomph,” and instantly wound your arms around his shoulders, enjoying the way he felt so steady and solid against you. 

“You love it when I check you out, don’t you, daddy?” you teased in a soft voice meant only for him. 

The street wasn’t busy, but it was so narrow that if any of your neighbors had their windows open to let in the crisp September air, they’d easily be able to overhear you. And you didn’t want anyone else hearing you call Ransom ‘daddy’—that was just for him.

“I do,” Ransom admitted in a rumbling voice, matching your low tone. “And I love looking at you in your pretty little outfit I picked out…” He trailed off, ducking down closer to you and nudging your nose to tilt your head back, ghosting his mouth over your lips teasingly when you canted your face to meet his. “But daddy needs a kiss, baby.”

The words were barely past his lips before you were surging up onto your tiptoes and kissing Ransom. He tasted like black coffee and cinnamon, and you couldn’t get enough of it. When his tongue slid across your lower lip seeking entrance, you were helpless to do anything but open for him, moaning softly as he plunged into your mouth.

The kiss had started out chaste enough for the sidewalk of Beacon Hill, but Ransom seemed to be as ravenous as you felt, hooking his arms around your waist and bending you backward with the intensity of his need to devour you. 

It had your head spinning with pleasure, but you still gave him as good as you got, kissing him back with just as much fervor, your leg rising of its own accord to hook around his thigh beneath his open coat.

Gradually, Ransom slowed the kiss until his mouth was decadently nibbling on your lower lip before licking the sting of his teeth away. Then, finally, he pulled away and you were able to drag in a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight as you lowered your leg back to the sidewalk. 

“Get in the car, nixie,” Ransom growled, though there was no anger in his tone, only a desirous heat that you recognized, since it was swirling warmly in the depths of your core. “Before I decide I’d rather take you back inside your apartment and fuck you in nothing but my sweater instead of taking you pumpkin picking.”

His free hand slid down your back and he groped the soft curve of your ass shamelessly over your skirt, right there on the street. Still, you couldn’t help but melt at his rough handling, a gasp escaping as his fingers dug ruthlessly into your flesh. 

For just a second, you debated whether you wanted Ransom to deliver on his threat, but decided against it. The prospect of seeing your sugar daddy going pumpkin picking was too good to pass up.

“Ok, ok, I’m getting in the car,” you huffed on a laugh, your voice breathy in a way you couldn’t help as you squirmed away from Ransom’s groping hand. Your sugar daddy chuckled, but let you go, then turned to open the door of his BMW for you.

He waited until you were settled on the soft leather seat, your seatbelt buckled across your lap, then leaned into the car and handed you the coffee he’d been holding. You took it with no small amount of surprise, having assumed it was his own coffee.

“For you, your favorite,” he murmured before brushing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry for being short with you this morning.”

A stunned expression froze on your face, his words spinning around in your mind so loudly, you barely heard the thump of the car door closing. Your eyes flicked up to watch Ransom cross in front of the car, your heart racing like you’d just sprinted an entire marathon.

It was then that you knew, unequivocally, without any doubt, that you loved Ransom Drysdale. 

Your sugar daddy slid smoothly into the driver’s seat and pulled his door shut before glancing at you. You gave him a weak smile, trying to hid the fact that you felt like a bomb had just been dropped inside your heart, and his expression twisted into one of annoyance.

“Don’t tell me they fucked up your drink,” he fumed, shoving his keys in the ignition and starting his BMW. He threw an arm around the back of your seat, his chest close enough to your shoulder that you could feel the warmth radiating from him as he carefully backed up, then maneuvered onto the street. All the while, he was muttering, “It’s a fucking pumpkin spice latte, they must make thousands of them a day. How can they fuck it up?”

When he merged into traffic at the end of the street heading in the direction of the local coffee shop, Ransom finally pulled his arm away from the back of your seat. You grabbed his hand before he could put it back on the wheel, squeezing it to get his attention.

“The latte’s fine, Ran—it’s perfect,” you assured him, even though you hadn’t taken a sip yet. Some of the anger drained from his expression and he executed a u-turn to turn in the other direction of the coffee shop, but his jaw was still ticking with annoyance and you searched for an explanation that wasn’t the truth. When you couldn’t think of anything else, you blurted, “I was just surprised you remembered my favorite coffee.”

“Of course I remembered,” he said after a moment of silence. His voice was gruff, like he didn’t know what to do with his sweet gesture being addressed so directly, but his mood seemed to lighten, his annoyance forgotten. Slipping his hand from your fingers, he settled his palm firmly on your thigh, giving you a playful squeeze as he shot you a smirk. “Though I don’t think that sugary nonsense should really be called coffee,” he snarked, giving your leg another squeeze to let you know he was only teasing.

You huffed an exasperated laugh and settled your free hand on top of his, holding onto him while he drove skillfully through the busy streets of Boston, heading toward the city limits. 

Ransom’s joke washed away the remnants of whatever tension your revelation, and your need to hide it from him, had caused between the two of you. Of course, you still felt the knowledge that you loved him hovering at the edge of your mind, but it was easy to sink into Ransom’s comforting presence and, if not entirely forget about it, at least more easily pretend you didn’t know you were in love with your sugar daddy.

On the drive, you made conversation with Ransom, asking him about his work and his family. He’d spent time with them the previous weekend and hadn’t seen you as a result. But he skipped quickly over the family party he’d attended and instead focused on telling you about some of the books he’d acquired for Blood Like Wine. 

You didn’t like Ransom’s family, based on what little you knew about them. And you didn’t feel even a little bit bad about it because you were certain they’d never like you, especially considering how you’d met Ransom. But it still made you sad to think about him facing them alone. Your heart thumped with sympathy and you curled your fingers more possessively around his hand on your thigh.

Ransom shot you a lopsided smile and turned the conversation around on you, asking about what books you’d been reading, and how the rest of your hobbies were going. He didn’t need to ask about your work because he’d made sure you didn’t need a job other than keeping him company—and especially didn’t need any other sugar daddies. 

So you told him about what you were reading and all the other things you did to occupy your time while he listened and asked questions. He especially loved hearing your opinions on the Blood Like Wine books he’d acquired. 

A little over an hour outside the city, Ransom’s BMW pulled into a gravel driveway beside a large sign that read Johnson’s Family Farm. There were smaller signs lining the drive advertising the farm’s apple orchards, hayrides, farm stand, and, of course, the pumpkin patch. 

Beyond the windows of Ransom’s BMW, you could see the farm sprawling out toward the distant horizon, plenty of picturesque little red buildings and beautiful fields filled with various fruits and vegetables. But there was something off about the farm, and it took you a moment to realize what it was: The whole place was deserted. 

It was a little early in the day, just after lunch time, but you were still surprised by how empty the parking lot was. And you didn’t even see any workers, or cars that might belong to them. It was just Ransom’s BMW and the deserted farm.

“Where is everyone?” you asked, turning in your seat to Ransom. “Are you sure they’re open?” It was the weekend, they must’ve been open, but you couldn’t make sense of why no one was there.

Ransom snorted, giving you a devious smirk as he put the car in park and turned it off. 

“I bought out the farm for a couple hours, it’s just us and the pumpkins, nixie,” he explained, squeezing your thigh one last time before stepping out of the car and rounding the front to open your door for you. 

You stepped out onto the gravel in a bit of a daze, still shocked by his words. You knew Ransom was wealthy—he was a high-level executive at one of the most successful prestige publishers in the country, not to mention the money he inherited from his family—but him buying out an entire farm just for your date was one of the most extravagant things he’d ever done. Your mind reeled as you tried to fathom how much that would even cost.

Ransom curled a finger beneath your chin and tipped your face up to look at him. He’d taken off his sunglasses, so you were met with the sight of his sparkling blue eyes. Paired with his devastatingly handsome smirk, your knees instantly went weak and your mouth parted in a wordless plea for him to kiss you.

He dropped a quick peck to your lips that was over too soon and swept his thumb across your cheek in a soothing gesture, your surprise melting into happiness as you realized you got to have Ransom all to yourself on your date. 

“C’mon, nixie, did you really think I’d agree to go pumpkin picking—to go tromping through the dirt on a farm,” he scoffed, his tone warm even if it was a little derisive. “And deal with hordes of screaming children and their families?” 

Ransom raised an eyebrow at you and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh as you rolled your eyes. You didn’t even need to answer, because of course Ransom wouldn’t want to deal with anyone else while he was enduring the absolute torture of going pumpkin picking. But then his next words distracted you from thinking about how spoiled he was.

“Besides, I haven’t forgotten our deal. I have plans for you, and we needed the farm all to ourselves for them,” he teased, his smirk turning impish as he ducked down and captured your lips in another quick kiss. 

Your heart was racing with excitement, your mind turning over his words and wondering what he could have planned for you while Ransom grabbed your hand and led you into the farm. You shook your head to clear it of all the naughty thoughts that had popped into your mind, and focused on your sugar daddy, who was following the signs toward the pumpkin patch with a grim acceptance in his expression.

The September sun was warm on your shoulders, but there was a cool breeze, the lingering chill of the morning clinging to the day and you curled around Ransom’s arm while you walked. You tried to distract your sugar daddy from the eventuality of leaving the nice dirt path to wade into the pumpkin patch by chattering about fond memories you had of going apple picking and exploring corn mazes with friends when you were younger. 

When you got to the area where you could pick your own pumpkins, Ransom paused at the edge, using your clasped hands to pull you to a stop alongside him. Your chatter cut off mid-sentence and you looked curiously to your sugar daddy, finding his brows lowered over his stormy blue eyes as he considered the haphazard spread of soft soil, scattered hay and orange pumpkins.

“I still don’t really see the point of this,” he muttered, giving the pumpkin patch a dubious look.

You couldn’t help but smile, thinking Ransom looked younger than his years in that moment—like a kid who was being introduced to something new and didn’t trust that they were going to like it. 

You curled into Ransom’s chest, your arms twining around his neck while his settled easily around your waist. You looked up at him and waited to speak until he dragged his gaze from the pumpkin patch behind you to meet your eyes.

“Normally, the point would be to take some pumpkins home and carve them,” you explained patiently. Ransom narrowed his eyes on you suspiciously, as if he believed you were going to try to convince him to do such an unfathomably pedestrian thing, and the corners of your mouth flickered as you suppressed an even wider smiler. “But something tells me even my powers of persuasion aren’t strong enough to get you to do that.”

Ransom only snorted, his eyes flicking disdainfully to the pumpkins over your shoulder then back at you. “Definitely not.” 

But there was a curiosity buried deep in his gaze, and you wondered if one day—if you were together long enough—he might be willing to try some pumpkin carving. 

Surprisingly, you could picture it. Ransom with his worn, threadbare sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbows, grimacing as he yanked pumpkin guts from inside a big, orange gourd. It almost made you giggle to think about.

Instead, you shook your head to clear the image from your thoughts, not wanting to get your hopes up that Ransom would be a fixture in your life long enough that you could convince him to carve pumpkins with you. 

Although, maybe if you offered to blow him while he did… You shook your head again and met Ransom’s curious gaze, giving him a bright smile that was only a little bit fake.

“Then we can just pick out a couple pumpkins for my front steps,” you said sunnily, bouncing up onto your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to Ransom’s cheek. “They’re pretty decorations whether we carve them or not.” 

You began to pull away, intent on starting your search for the perfect pumpkins, but Ransom’s arms tightened around your waist, like he didn’t want to let go yet.

“You’d be a much prettier decoration than any of these gourds, nixie,” he murmured, and you turned your face to him in surprise at the gruffness in his tone. There was some emotion laced through his voice that you couldn’t place, and before you could puzzle it out, Ransom’s mouth caught yours, sending your thoughts scattering as he kissed you deeply.

When you finally broke away for a breath, your body was buzzing with awareness of Ransom’s and a warmth that had nothing to do with the bright September sun had bloomed between your thighs. You had half a mind to drag Ransom back to the car and have him do something about what he’d started, but you were determined to go pumpkin picking. 

Pushing aside the distracting hum of desire filling your body, you pulled away from Ransom’s warmth and began carefully stepping through the pumpkin patch. The smell of earth and the distinct scent of pumpkins surrounded you, calming some of the buzzy heat Ransom had stirred up, and you were able to focus on your search for the perfect pumpkins.

Once Ransom got over the fact that he would have to walk through the dirt in his nice loafers—which took a few moments of complaining—he began picking his way through the pumpkins. He kept calling out to you when he’d found one that was particularly deformed or ugly in some way, trying to claim they had “character.” But you knew he was just being a pest to make you laugh and smile.

To his credit, he was making you laugh, and the smile on your face was so wide it hurt a little. 

Every time he held up a terrible pumpkin like it was a prize catch, you shook your head at him, but your laughter echoed across the fields of the farm. And you couldn’t help but notice that Ransom seemed to be having fun, too, his own smile staying fixed on his handsome face as you both made your way through the pumpkin patch.

“What about this one?” Ransom called, from a little ways away, having wandered off in a different direction. “Now this is a pumpkin.”

You stood up from where you’d been bent over, looking at some moderately sized pumpkins to find Ransom standing beside a massive orange thing. It was almost as high as Ransom’s waist, tipped on its side, but as you looked harder, something about it seemed off.

First, it was clearly meant to be part of a display set up by the farm, since it stood in front of an artfully arranged stack of hay bales that were topped with smaller pumpkins. The rest of the field stretched out behind the setup, and you suspected it had been constructed in an attempt to give visitors to the farm a photo op, where families or groups of friends could pose for the perfect autumnal pictures. 

But as you walked closer to Ransom, and smoothed your hands over the large pumpkin, you realized something else was off about the gourd.

“Ran,” you started dryly, cutting your eyes to him, finding him admiring the pumpkin. “This isn’t a real pumpkin—it’s fake, for the photo op,” you said, waving your hand at the whole display.

Ransom seemed confused for a moment, then looked at the bales of hay arranged behind it as if he was seeing them for the first time. Since you were closer, you could see a little sign that had the name of the farm tacked into the hay, and had to give it to Johnson’s Family Farm—they seemed to know what they were doing.

“Figures the first pumpkin I actually like is fake,” Ransom muttered, turning to you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he curled his big body around yours. 

You bit your lip against a laugh and stroked your fingers through his soft brown hair. “Don’t worry, Ran, I’m sure we’ll find something you like.” 

His thick arms squeezed you tight and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding onto one another. It was a sweet moment—until Ransom’s hands began to wander down your back, stroking down your spine to the swell of your ass. But he didn’t stop there. His hands slid further down and under your skirt, groping your thighs shamelessly and kneading the soft flesh of your ass.

“Remind me again about the deal we made, nixie,” Ransom rumbled, his tone thick with lust as he used his big hands to pull you closer, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 

Your mind was swimming with desire, your body arched into the bigger form of your sugar daddy, but you managed to remember the words of the agreement you’d made—the one that had finally convinced Ransom it would be worth it to take you pumpkin picking.

“I have to do everything you say,” you recited the terms of your deal, your voice breathless with excitement. “And you can do anything you want with me.”

Ransom made a rumbling sound deep in his chest, the vibrations teasing your nipples through your sweater and sheer lingerie. Your breasts felt heavy, aching to be touched, but you kept your arms around Ransom’s broad shoulders, waiting to see what he’d do. 

“I think it’s time for you to pay up, baby,” Ransom murmured, walking you backward until your ass collided with the big, fake pumpkin. “I wanna take some pictures of my pretty sugar baby on the biggest pumpkin in the patch.” 

The plastic was cold against your bare thighs and you sucked in a gasp, your body tensing in Ransom’s grip.

He seemed to understand your plight, though, because he uncurled himself from around your body—after giving your ass a lingering squeeze. 

Straightening, Ransom’s eyes caught yours, his blue gaze sparkling with mischief and a smirk playing at the edge of his mouth as he shrugged out of his wool coat. He swung it around behind you, laying it down on the pumpkin before his hands fell to your hips.

“Need a boost?” he asked, his lips curving into a deviously handsome smirk as his hands settled on your hips.

Truthfully, you didn’t need the help. The pumpkin was only a little higher than your ass, and you could have easily hopped up onto it. But arousal was slinking through your body, making you feel heavy and achy and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have Ransom’s hands on you for a little longer.

“Yes, please, daddy,” you said sweetly, giving Ransom your most charming smile and enjoying the way his eyes darkened at the honorific. 

Ransom pressed close to you, his expensive cologne filling your senses as he pinned you against the pumpkin under the guise of helping you. But you could feel the hard, thick length in his slacks digging into your soft belly and you knew he was enjoying the excuse to hold you just as much as you were. 

Slowly, he eased you up onto the pumpkin, the wool of his coat scratchy against the back of your bare thighs, but much warmer and softer than the cold plastic of the decoration. 

When he settled you right where he wanted you, it took all your self-control not to spread your legs for Ransom. You bit your lip against a sultry smile and kept your legs closed, trying to look nice for the photos he was going to take.

Still, you couldn’t help but murmur a breathy, “Thank you, daddy,” that had your blood running even hotter through your veins. 

Ransom seemed just as affected as you, but he managed to hold himself together, dropping a quick kiss to your lips before rumbling, “Good girl, nixie.” 

Then he was stepping away, taking his warmth and delicious scent with him as he retreated a few paces and pulled out his phone. You arranged yourself in a pretty pose on the pumpkin, smiling for Ransom’s camera, and adjusting your legs or arms or the tilt of your head as he asked. 

You’d been a little worried that giving Ransom free reign to order you around would lead to him barking commands at you like you were a dog. But he’d taken your words about not liking being talked to like that to heart—no doubt helped by the reminder of his text going unanswered that morning—and he kept his voice warm and light as he guided you through the poses he wanted for the photos he was taking.

It was more fun than you expected. You’d never done any kind of photoshoot, and you found yourself enjoying Ransom’s gentle commands helping you pose for him. He took so many photos of you perched on that fake pumpkin, you began to wonder what he planned to do with them. 

But then his directions took a new turn, and you couldn’t help the smirk that curved your lips.

“Now spread your legs,” Ransom urged, bending down so he was crouched in the field, being careful not to let his pants touch the dirt. “Put your feet up—yeah, just like that.” Ransom’s eyes sparkled in the bright September sunshine as he watched you shift into the pose he wanted, his mouth pulled wide in a wolfish grin. “Let daddy see what’s under that pretty skirt of yours.”

Leaning back on your hands, you lifted your knees and spread them wide, balancing precariously on top of the big, fake pumpkin. Your skirt fell around your hips, baring your black silk panties for Ransom’s camera. Even a few paces away, you could hear his inhale of breath when he got his first glimpse of the thin slip of fabric barely covering your glistening slit. 

Excited thrills zipped through your body, more wetness gathering between your thighs as you watched Ransom’s blue eyes darken. Your pussy was so close to being on full display in broad daylight, and even though you knew the farm was deserted, the possibility of somehow being caught still made the tension in you crackle deliciously. 

But that was the fun of following Ransom’s orders—you’d known from the moment you offered it up for the deal that he would have you doing something naughty. You just hoped, as your core ached to be filled, that your sugar daddy would end the teasing soon and fuck you over the pumpkin he had you sitting on.

“Rub your pussy, baby,” Ransom rumbled, his voice pitching lower. “Let me see you make a mess of your pretty panties—all for me.”

His tone was drenched in a desire that made you even wetter, your body responding to his voice alone. You were so gone for him, you didn’t even care that no other man had ever made you wet just from his voice. You just wanted him to keep talking—keep ordering you to do more filthy things. 

Putting all your weight on one hand, you slipped the other between your thighs, using two fingers to rub your clit through your black silk panties. You suspected they were expensive, just like all the lingerie Ransom had gifted you, but you didn’t think about how much they cost. You only stared into Ransom’s camera and let your eyes go heavy-lidded, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan as pleasure pulsed through your body.

“Good girl, nixie,” Ransom purred, shifting closer but staying down on his haunches. Soft clicks of a camera shudder came from his phone as he took photo after photo, capturing the way your fingers dipped down to your slit and pushed your panties ever so slightly into your dripping hole. “Fuck—yeah, just like that, rub that pretty pussy like a good little slut for daddy.”

A whimper slipped from your lips and a shudder wracked your whole body at the pleasure that suffused your entire being. Your fingers teased your wet slit while Ransom watched, his phone camera trained on you while he took photos of your lewd actions. It was headier than you would’ve expected, your thoughts scattering as your hips rocked gently, pressing your cunt against your fingers instinctively.

“Daddy, ‘m so empty,” you wailed softly, pushing your fingers into your pussy through your panties, whining desperately when they couldn’t go deep enough. The black satin was soaked in your juices, feeling good as it slipped against your wet lower lips, but you hated it in that moment because it was the only thing stopping you from being filled. “P-please, daddy!”

One of Ransom’s hands dropped from his phone to palm his dick through his pants, and you whimpered louder with a wordless plea. You opened your eyes wider and pouted your lips, imploring him to put you out of your misery—either by giving you another order, or by sinking his fat cock into your aching pussy.

Ransom’s features darkened with desire, his handsome face twisting into an expression that was almost a scowl as he rose from his crouch to tower over where you were perched. Your own expression lightened and turned hopeful, sure he was going to tuck his phone away and fill you up, but instead, he chuckled darkly. 

Skimming his free hand down your inner thigh, he groped you briefly, your skin tingling everywhere he touched. But then he ignored your pussy entirely and instead tugged on the hem of your sweater.

“Pull up your shirt, nixie, show me your slutty body,” Ransom rasped, his voice hoarse with his own need while he palmed his dick again, keeping his phone camera trained on you.

You whined and squirmed pathetically at the quick tease of his touch, but followed his order all the same. You tugged the hem of your sweater up, catching it between your teeth to keep it from falling down again before you went back to rubbing your pussy. 

You knew how you must’ve looked—your legs spread wide, your shirt pulled up to show off both parts of your black silk matching set and your hand pressed between your thighs, rubbing your pussy shamelessly. You must’ve looked like a perfect little whore for Ransom, and by the way his eyes sparkled and his mouth curved into a satisfied smirk, he loved it.

“Good girl, nixie,” he murmured, soft clicks of the camera shutter coming from his phone as he took even more photos while he stood over you. “You’re such a good little slut for me, baby, such a perfectly obedient girl.” His eyes flicked from his phone screen to your eyes. “Doesn’t it feel good to do everything daddy tells you?” 

With the soft cotton of your sweater in your mouth, you couldn’t speak, so you nodded, holding Ransom’s gaze as you did so. You wanted him to see it was the truth—it did feel good to do what he told you. Because you trusted him. You knew he’d never tell you to do anything that might hurt you. 

Something shifted in Ransom’s eyes as he read your expression—something that looked a lot like surprise melting into a profound awareness that seemed to frighten him. As you watched, his eyes hardened just a little bit, the hand holding his phone dropping out of the way as he stared at you intensely.

“Are you sure you can handle it, sugar baby, doing everything I tell you?” he asked, a harshness in his tone that spoke to an underlying animosity you knew wasn’t truly directed at you. 

You realized all of a sudden that you’d tipped your hand. You’d shown Ransom you trusted him, and, in the process, shown him that your feelings for him were deeper than they should be between a sugar baby their sugar daddy. His question was a challenge, and an offering of an escape at the same time. 

But, for all that you’d avoided showing Ransom how you truly felt about him, you simply couldn’t run away from him. If you’d been able to do that, you would’ve parted ways with your sugar daddy already. 

So you held Ransom’s glinting blue gaze and nodded resolutely. His expression hardened further. 

“Spank your pussy,” Ransom growled, his voice sounding as rough as the gravel in the farm’s parking lot. “Show me what a dirty little slut you are and slap your cunt as hard as you can.” 

Your whole body quivered with anticipation as you drew back your hand from your wet, puffy pussy. Your silk panties were soaking wet, and you knew the flimsy fabric wouldn’t protect your sensitive slit from the sting of the spank, but Ransom gave you an order, and you intended to follow it—to show him how much you trusted him, and cared for him.

Using the flat of your fingers, you slapped your cunt as Ransom instructed, as hard as you could manage. Electrifying pain streaked through your body, making you cry out and arch violently on the pumpkin you were perched on, your other hand gripping tightly to Ransom’s wool coat to keep you balanced. A deep, blazing pleasure nipped at the sensation’s heels and your cry devolved quickly into a debauched moan that was muffled by the sweater in your mouth. 

It took you a moment to force your gaze back to Ransom, his eyes swirling with so many emotions, you didn’t have a hope of discerning them. But he held his phone up again, no doubt framing you within the screen and said in a gruff voice, “Again.”

That time, since you were expecting it, it was easier to brace for the sting of pain and the burning pleasure that swept the smarting tingle away. But your body still responded, your spine curving and your legs shaking wildly, your lips falling open in another muted moan as your teeth clung to the sweater so it didn’t slip free from your mouth. 

Ransom’s camera captured the whole thing—you knew because he watched the screen instead of you, his mouth twisting into a depraved smirk.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Ransom rumbled, some of the warmth you typically heard in your sugar daddy’s voice seeping back into his words. He must’ve heard it, too, because his next words were harsher. “Does it feel good to spank your pussy like the dirty little slut she is?

“Uh huh,” you mumbled around the sweater in your mouth. You tried to tell him it felt good, but the words came out entirely garbled, though Ransom seemed to understand. 

“Are you gonna come from slapping your naughty cunt?” he asked, his eyes darkening with hungry intent as he watched your face, waiting for your response.

Your pussy pulsed at his filthy question, and you thought maybe it was possible to come from spanking your puffy slit, especially if your fingers caught your clit with each slap. But truthfully, you didn’t know—you’d never tried. So you answered Ransom honestly, muttering, “Ionno,” around the sweater in your mouth.

Ransom huffed an impatient sound and reached for you to tug the sweater free from your teeth, his actions gentle even despite his obvious annoyance. “Say that again.”

“I-I don’t know,” you whispered. “I can try.”

The expression on Ransom’s face shifted again, but it became even more unreadable. He held your gaze for a moment, as if he was searching for something, though you didn’t know what. 

“You want to try?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative.

You acted instinctively, pushing yourself up so you were no longer balancing on your hand and reaching past Ransom’s phone to grab his sweater to pull him down for a kiss. Your lips moved sweetly against his for a moment, before you pulled back and stared deeply into his eyes. 

“I want to do everything you tell me to do,” you said, reciting the words of the deal you’d struck with Ransom, but changing them just a little, to tell him again that you wanted him, you trusted him. “I want you to do anything you want with me.” 

A look of something almost like fury flitted across Ransom’s face, and then he was surging forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, as if he meant to brand you with his mouth. You moaned into him, which only seemed to make him kiss you harder, his tongue pushing past your lips to sweep into you as if he owned you. 

In that moment, if he’d asked, you would have told him he did.

Just as suddenly as he’d kissed you, Ransom pulled away and he shoved his phone in the pocket of his expensive slacks. Then, before you’d even recovered from his kiss, he grabbed your hips and spun you to the side, guiding your shoulders down so you were laying draped sideways across the big pumpkin. 

“Panties off,” he growled, his voice a low rumbling contrast to the sharp clinking of his belt buckle as he undid his pants. “Give ‘em to me.” 

You were quick to follow his orders, hooking your fingers in the black silk panties and shoving them down your legs, pulling them off and then handing them to Ransom. You watched your sugar daddy hold them up to his face and take a deep breath, inhaling your scent as his other hand dove into his boxer briefs. 

Because your head was hanging over the side of the fake pumpkin beneath your back, you had a front row seat to Ransom’s big hand stroking his hard length, your mouth watering with the desire to taste him on your tongue. A whine slipped from your lips and you squirmed, getting Ransom’s attention.

He chuckled darkly, tucking your panties into the pocket of his slacks that didn’t hold his phone and then shoved them and his boxer briefs down. His thick, fat cock fell on your face, making you flinch in surprise at the slight slap of it against your skin. But in the next breath, you were tilting your face up and kissing him affectionately, murmuring in contentment when his musky taste hit your tongue. 

“Such a perfect little slut, baby,” Ransom rasped, his praise drenched in that warm tone that had your heart beating happily in your chest. He wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and slapped it gently on your smiling lips. “Open your mouth and spread your legs.” 

Immediately, you did as Ransom said, parting your thighs and opening your mouth wide, then waiting for what came next. You weren’t surprised when Ransom didn’t waste any time before pushing the tip of his cock past your lips.  

He let out a low, filthy groan as he thrust deep in your mouth, pressing into your throat until you could feel him bulging in the front of your neck. He held there, his balls nestled against your nose while you swallowed around him, trying to get used to the intrusion while he groaned obscenely at how good you felt. 

“Fuck yeah, baby, take daddy’s cock in your pretty little throat,” he rumbled, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat and pressing down lightly, grunting when he felt himself twitching inside you. “You’re such a perfect little slut, ’s like you were made for me—all for me.” 

You moaned around Ransom’s cock, hoping he took the sound for the agreement it was as you lay beneath him, your hips squirming and your pussy fluttering in the cool September air. Your wiggling seemed to get Ransom’s attention and he leaned over you, his big hand sliding between your thighs to rub your already messy pussy.

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmured, his voice sounding like sunshine with the affection clear in his tone. “You still wanna see if you can come from getting your pussy spanked?” he asked, a smirk in his words. 

You nodded as best you could, your hips squirming and bucking, practically begging for him without using a single word—not that you could utter any with his cock buried so deeply in your throat. 

His fingers slid teasingly against your clit and you bucked harder, grinding against him as best you could. 

Your antics made Ransom laugh quietly as he muttered, “Alright, baby,” in a placating voice. 

That was the only warning you got—that and his hand disappearing from your pussy. Ransom’s big hand came down on your pussy sharply, the flat of his fingers spanking your pussy much harder than you. Still, you could feel he was holding back from using all his strength, only giving it to you as hard as he knew you could take.

And take it you did. 

A muffled scream clawed its way up your throat and slipped past your lips to be muffled against Ransom’s balls as white-hot pain flooded your body, followed closely by the all-consuming burn of pleasure. A tremor shook your limbs and you choked on Ransom’s cock, your throat squeezing him tight enough to wring a grunt from him. 

“Fuck—did that feel good, baby?” he rumbled, his fingers dipping into your hole and rubbing your juices all over your pussy, paying special attention to your clit. “Do you like it when daddy spanks your slutty pussy? Because you’re squeezing my cock like you want me to do it again.” 

His voice was drenched in warmth and humor and you whined in response as you planted your feet on the curve of the fake pumpkin and bucked your hips up against his hand, pleasure coiling tight in your core. You knew it was only a matter of a few more smacks from Ransom’s hand before that coil was snapping and you were going to come from him spanking your pussy. 

“That sounds like a yes, but I wanna feel you nod, baby,” Ransom murmured, his other hand petting your cheek softly. 

You couldn’t see him from the angle you were at, but you could hear the smile in his tone and you melted a little, your legs falling open wider as you nodded for him. 

“Good girl,” he praised, his fingers stroking over the bulge in your throat while his others rubbled your clit, making your tight channel squeeze his cock tighter. “And what do you do if it’s too much? Show daddy,” he urged as his fingers trailed lower, until they dipped into your black satin bra and swirled around your nipples until they were stiff peaks. 

Meanwhile, you reached back and patted the outside of Ransom’s thigh three times, the sign you’d established with him early on in your relationship for when you needed a break but didn’t have the capacity to use words. 

“Good, you’re such a good girl,” he purred. His hand kept sliding lower down your body until he reached your thighs. He grabbed your soft flesh and pushed your legs open even wider. “Now, let’s see if we can make your pretty pussy come just from being spanked while I fuck your slutty mouth.” 

You barely had a chance to moan your agreement before Ransom’s hand came down on your cunt again, the sharp, slick sound of his fingers slapping your wet flesh meeting your ears before the stinging pain and scorching pleasure sent your thoughts skittering away. 

He rubbed your clit roughly and moved his hips, thrusting shallowly into your mouth, grunting and groaning at the feel of your moans vibrating through him and your throat squeezing him every time he slapped your pussy. 

Ransom fell into a rhythm, spanking your pussy as hard as he thought you could handle, his fingers catching your clit every time, and fucking your throat while you lay draped over the big, fake pumpkin in that deserted pumpkin patch. 

You were at the mercy of Ransom, and he seemed to know it just as much as you did—and he didn’t take it for granted. His hands were purposeful with every touch, every spank, his hips never pushing too hard against your head as he fucked your mouth. It was filthy and dirty and yet you could feel the depth of his caring in everything he did to you.

It wasn’t long before you were pushed to the precipice of your release, your body trembling uncontrollably, the coil in your core wound so tight, you knew it would snap any second. 

Ransom must’ve felt it too, because he started up a constant refrain of, “Good girl, baby, come for me—come for daddy, baby. You’re doing so good, wanna watch your pretty pussy come, baby, c’mon, lemme see.” His words were so sweet and warm and wicked, you were unable to do anything but follow his gentle command. 

On the next slap to your cunt, the coil of pleasure in your belly snapped, and your entire body went tight with white-hot tension before it burst free into decimating waves of pleasure. Ransom’s cock muffled your scream as you came, your hips bucking and pussy convulsing beneath his warm palm as you rubbed your soaking wet slit against him. 

You were so consumed by your release, you didn’t notice the way Ransom had frozen, and you barely felt him pulling his cock free from your mouth. You only knew that suddenly you were able to pull in deep breaths and smell the crisp scent of the pumpkin patch. 

Your head spun when Ransom gently pushed you to sit up and hauled you off the pumpkin, your feet hitting the soft soil of the field and your knees nearly buckling as your body still shivered from the waves of pleasure rolling through you. 

Ransom sat heavily on his wool coat still draped haphazardly over the top of the pumpkin, his hands greedily grabbing your hips and pulling you onto his lap. Your knees bracketed his thighs while his hands grabbed your ass and guided you to sit up. Then you felt the tip of his cock slide against your still fluttering hole and you moaned, your head dropping back like you didn’t have the strength to hold it up anymore.

“Can’t fucking believe you came from getting your pussy spanked, baby,” Ransom was mumbling, his big hands changing the angle of your hips until the head of his cock was pressed to your entrance. “Gotta feel it, gotta…” He cut off on a grunt when he pushed into your slick, pulsing pussy, his hands shifting to your hips so he could pull you down onto his hard, throbbing length.

Your hands found Ransom’s biceps and you held onto him, your fingers tangling in the thick weave of his cable knit sweater as you quickly sank down on his cock. He was so thick and long, it stung a little to impale yourself so fast without any kind of preparation, but you didn’t care. You were too greedy for his cock to take your time, a deep, primal instinct driving you to take him as fast as you could while your mind was still reeling from your first release. 

“Oh fu-uck,” Ransom groaned brokenly, his head falling against your chest. You could feel his face pressing into your sternum, his heavy exhale ghosting between the swells of your breasts. It was against your bare skin, your heart racing just beneath the surface, that Ransom confessed, “I love you, nixie.” 

At his words, you went deathly still. For an unending moment, your mind reeled and you tried to be certain you’d heard Ransom correctly. You were sure you couldn’t have.

It didn’t seem like he realized what he’d said until he felt you stiffen in his lap. Then, Ransom sat up slowly, his gaze sharp as it raked over your face, trying to gauge your reaction. 

Licking your lips to bide you time to find your voice, you forced yourself to ask the question your heart needed an answer to. 

“Do you mean it?”

Ransom’s expression tightened, his eyes going even more wary, but he nodded—a quick, dip of his chin—and you sucked in a breath.

A tingling warmth started at the top of your head and cascaded through your body, filling you with a bright, fizzling feeling. It took a moment for you to recognize it was happiness. But not just happiness—it was pure, unfiltered joy. 

Your sugar daddy loved you. Ransom Drysdale loved you. 

His expression was growing more and more distant with every second that passed without you responding and you couldn’t have that. 

Squealing in delight, you launched yourself at him—not that it was such a far distance, considering you were in his lap—and he let out a soft, “oof,” when you collided with his chest, your arms winding around his neck and squeezing him tight.

“I love you, too, Ran,” you confessed on an exhale. It felt so good to get the words off your chest, that you repeated them. “I love you.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Ransom said on a sigh of relief as he gathered you tighter against his chest. One of his arms wrapped around your lower back while the other braced against your spine so his hand could cup the back of your neck. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, nixie.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t love you back?” you asked softly before pressing a kiss to Ransom’s soft cheek because you couldn’t help yourself. The scent of his cologne filled your senses and you smiled against his jaw, kissing him again and again, like you’d never get enough of it. 

“Wasn’t sure,” he admitted gruffly. 

You giggled at the sheepishness in his tone, pulling back until you could see his face. He was blushing a little, a tiny bit of pink tinging his cheeks and making him look adorable. You couldn’t help yourself from cupping his handsome face in your hands and leaning forward to brush a sweet kiss to his mouth. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmured, in between teasing kisses. “I love you when you’re grumbling about going pumpkin picking, and I love you when you’re spanking my pussy, and I love you when you’re bringing me my favorite coffee because you remembered what I liked.” 

You kept kissing him until Ransom was chuckling, his hand squeezing the back of your neck in an affectionate gesture. He reeled you in for a deeper kiss, cutting off your list of all the times you’d loved him. But you and Ransom were smiling too much to kiss properly, your teeth knocking against each other and making you both laugh even more. 

Your joyful laughter soon devolved into soft moans and grunts when Ransom rocked his hips, shifting his cock even deeper inside you. Your fingers threaded through his soft brown hair and you clung to him while you rolled your hips, grinding down on his stiff length until you were breathless with renewed desire.

“Fuck, nixie—nixie, ‘m not gonna last much longer,” Ransom groaned, his arms tightening around your back and holding you pinned against his chest while he fucked up into you. “Your pussy’s too perfect—too fucking warm and tight and good for me.” 

“Come inside me, Ran,” you whispered heatedly, feeling his cock twitch at your suggestion. You moaned softly in his ear. Your clit was grinding against the base of Ransom’s cock, and it wouldn’t be long before you came for a second time. “Please, daddy, fill me up—wanna feel your come leaking from my pussy while we’re picking pumpkins, daddy, please,” you begged in a pathetic whine.

“I love you—fuck, I love you so fucking much, nixie,” Ransom growled, pressing his face to your cheek and nudging you to the side until his mouth found yours. He kissed you so long and so deeply, it made your head spin, and he fucked you all the while, pounding into your cunt hard enough that the pleasure he gave you was edged with just enough delicious pain that you were falling off the edge and coming in no time.

Ransom swallowed your screams of pleasure as you came, your pussy clenching his cock hard enough that he followed right after, grunting into your mouth so that it was your turn to muffle his sounds with your lips. 

Coming at the same time was heady and all-consuming and you were so happy you felt like you could float away if it wasn’t for Ransom’s arms holding you so tightly to his chest. And you were glad for it, because you didn’t want to float away unless he came with you.

The two of you gradually eased down from your highs together, still kissing, still murmuring your love for one another as if you could pass the words between your lips as easily as you exchanged breaths.

Finally, your rocking bodies gently stilled and your racing hearts returned to steady, normal drumbeats. The September sun was bright, keeping you warm from the chill in the air as you snuggled into your sugar daddy—the man that you loved, and who loved you in return.

Your head was still spinning and trying to process everything you’d both admitted while laying against Ransom’s chest, your fingers playing idly with a loose thread in his sweater, when he finally broke the comfortable silence that had fallen.

“If we carve up some of these pumpkins, do I really have to clean out all the guts with my bare hands?”

His question, and the almost whining tone in his voice, had you choking on a surprised laugh. You leaned back, looking into Ransom’s face to see if he was joking, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was giving the pumpkin patch another dubious look, making you laugh again as you shook your head at him.

“No, you could wear gloves, and there’s usually a scoop that comes in the pumpkin carving kits at the store,” you explained to him, your tone filled with humor even as you kept it even and patient. “You don’t have to touch the pumpkin guts if you don’t want to.”

Your fingers stroked through the hair at the nape of his neck and he seemed to relax, though whether it was from your assurance or your touch, you couldn’t tell. You suspected it was both.

After a moment, Ransom seemed to reach some sort of decision because he heaved a deep sigh and met your gaze. His blue eyes were shimmering in the bright afternoon sunlight, and the affection in his gaze warmed you despite the chill in the air. 

“Alright, let’s find some pumpkins worth carving,” he said, though his grim tone made it sound like he was suggesting you both walk into battle. 

A smile spread across your face and you giggled happily. “You mean it?”

“Of course, nixie,” Ransom rumbled, leaning in and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “There’s very little I wouldn’t do to make you happy—I thought that was clear when I agreed to an afternoon of pumpkin picking.” 

You laughed softly, ghosting your lips over his in a teasing gesture as your heart fluttered in your chest, happiness swooping through your belly. But still, his words didn’t exactly match up to your memory of events, especially given everything you’d done to get him to agree to the date—including the deal you’d made.

“Silly me, and here I thought it was because of the deal we made,” you murmured. 

“Mm, nope,” Ransom said, popping the ‘p’ in nope. “Woulda taken you pumpkin picking even without the deal—just liked watching you convince me.” He brushed feather-light kisses along your jaw, making you hum happily at the soft press of his lips after you snorted at his comment. “But now that you mention it, our arrangement extends to the pumpkin carving portion of this date, yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, having a hard time following the conversation when he sucked gently on the spot just beneath your ear that had your head falling to the side to give him better access. You shook your head lightly and found the words to form a proper response. “Sure, it lasts as long as the date does.”

You felt Ransom’s mouth curve as he smirked against the side of your neck. “Good,” he purred, kissing down your throat until he got to the line of your sweater. “Gonna make you suck my cock while I clean out our pumpkins.”

Buzzy excitement and warm desie flooded through you at his words and it was your turn to smile. You remembered that you’d considered offering to blow him to get him to carve pumpkins just that morning, so you obviously had nothing against his suggestion. You were eager for it to become a reality.

“Whatever you say, daddy,” you murmured in your sweetest voice. 

Ransom huffed an amused laugh before his mouth found yours again. 

The two of you kissed for a little while longer, until your knees and hips started to protest sitting in the same position on that big, fake pumpkin for so long. Ransom helped you down from his lap and towed you back toward the farm stand, so you could clean up in the nice employee bathroom—though he refused to give you your panties back.

You spent the rest of the early afternoon picking out pumpkins with Ransom, then he carried them back to his BMW and put them in the trunk. While he drove you both back to the city, he gave you his phone and told you to pick out your favorite of the photos he’d taken of you. 

You asked him if he only wanted you to pick from the lewd photos, and he told you to also pick one of the pictures he’d taken of you with your clothes covering you. When you asked him what it was for, he told you he wanted to frame it and put it on his desk in his office. Your heart fluttered when he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, admitting he missed you while he was at work.

If you hadn’t already known you were in love with him, you would’ve known then, your heart squeezing in happiness while your fingers tightened around his. Since you didn’t have to hold back your emotions anymore, you told him how much you loved him, and he responded by repeating the words and kissing your hand again.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at your townhouse apartment in Beacon Hill, cleaning out and carving the pumpkins you’d picked before putting candles in them and setting them on the steps outside your front door. Before the date was over, you even got Ransom Drysdale—your sugar daddy and the man that you loved—to admit he had fun. 

Of course, you had to promise you’d never tell anyone. But you assured him you could keep it secret, so long as he loved you. He grinned, and promised you he always would, then he sealed the deal with a kiss. 

And that was how an afternoon of pumpkin picking turned into a beautiful life together.

thanks for reading!! reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡♡♡

[chlorinecake]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ִ ۫ 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 | 𝐋.𝐌𝐇

⭑ PAIRING: fuck buddy ! cat dad ! minho x f. reader

𖥻 SYNOPSIS: A broken air conditioner in your best friend's apartment leads to him having to shack up with you until things get sorted, but considering his sex drive, it doesn't take long for things to get steamy in a different way...

⭑ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, temperature play kink, kissing, dry humping, masturbation (f. receiving), minho gets a bit jealous at one part, mentions of food, mentions of enhypen's jake, crying (barely), finger + tit + neck sucking (f. receiving), not proofread

𖥻 WORD COUNT: 5.2k - DAY 5

⭑ AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic was originally intended to be a gift for @minhosimthings 's 21st birthday, but since I was such an amazing moot and didn't finish writing it in time, I simply decided to save it for now hehe ^^

OCTOBER.

Not usually the warmest month of the year, but it had become precisely that for your close friend Minho when his apartment AC suddenly gave out, leaving him to sleep with nothing but his boxers on almost every night—

“Proof?” You asked via text while ending your three-hour long conversation with him one night.

Ding!

A picture of Lino and his sweat-glazed body took over your phone screen, his toned thighs just barely hanging off his gingham-dressed bed set with a spare pillow being placed precariously in the place where you're certain his bulge would be.

“Since you were so desperate to get a first-hand glimpse of my suffering… hope you're satisfied now,” his text read below the photo, and you smiled at the message, not even bothering to scold yourself for blushing…

“Trust me, this did the trick... can't wait to get you outta that hell hole and in some proper air conditioning, though...”

“Looking forward to it,” Lino texted back with a pink heart emoji, “goodnight now, kitty.”

“Night night!” You returned, feeling your cheeks warm up at the pet-name he used for you, and you used to hate smiling at your phone whenever you got a flirty message from someone, but when it came to Minho, you didn’t mind the butterflies as much…

You laid your head on your pillow, facing the ceiling as a gentle sigh fell from your lips, and the selfie that Lino sent you meddled in the back of your mind, causing your imagination to do wonders in making the photo come alive...

Despite being best friends who admittedly had sex with each other from time to time, Minho, had been the subject of your sexual fantasies for a while now, and you honestly couldn’t blame yourself for it…

I mean, let’s be real, he's got that dark and handsome thing going on with a platinum smile to match.

And let's not forget about his muscular build, too, which is the result of hours spent either dancing or hitting up the gym every week.

You’ve always had a thing for him, and you vividly remember the first night you two crossed the line between strictly friends and something a little more than that.

It was the night right after he got fired from his job, and while upon stopping by your place to cool off some steam, the both of you were two drinks passed tipsy as the sexual tension ran rampant between you.

Y’all were cooking dinner together, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him as he chopped vegetables and sautéed meat...

The way his toned muscles rippled under his T-shirt as he navigated the kitchen was too much for you to handle that night... you remember feeling your panties grow damp in that moment, just like they were now as you imagined him pinning you against the kitchen counter and fucking you completely senseless.

Sliding your hands beneath your covers, you found the hem of your pajama pants while imagining Lino was right before you, telling you to undress for him.

And although your eyes were closed, you could see the whole memory as clear as day, playing each moment over slowly in your mind as if watching a clip from your favorite movie…

You thought about how you put the spoon down that you used to stir the pasta before walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist while sighing at the contact.

Envisioning the way he looked back at you with a mixture of pleasant surprise and desire staining his gorgeous features, you remember feeling his hard cock press against your front.

And back then, it startled you at first… the fact that he had gotten so turned on just from being around you—

“Minho,” you remember whispering to him, and you did the same thing now as you laid on your mattress with a heavy heart, your fingers slowly gliding over your bare cunt in the same way that his fingers touched you before.

In your memory, he only responded by grabbing your waist and kissing you deeply, all before lifting you up onto the counter and spreading your legs apart so he could get between them.

He leaned in close, his breath warm yet shiver-inducing against your face as he whispered back, “I want you so bad, ____…”

He trailed kisses down your neck, making his way to your cleavage where he toyed with your nipple slightly, and you let one of your hands grope your tits to mimic the way he touched you then.

Arching your back against the mattress, you recall moaning faintly as he sucked and bit at your sensitive skin, his skilled hands roaming your body beneath the thin fabric of your shirt.

You reached down for the button on his jeans and undid it before pulling down his zipper to free his aching cock, and you remember stroking it gently as you felt it twitch in your hand.

Lino groaned at your touch, and it wasn’t long before he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to the edge of the counter, positioning himself at your entrance while teasing your clit with the tip of his cock.

You whimpered, both back then and presently while laying in bed, and you begged him to fuck you as if he was actually there with you.

Using your index and middle finger, you jammed them inside your cunt, crying out in pleasure while imagining your pathetic digits were your best friend’s fat cock thrusting inside you.

You remember being fucked rough and fast by him as his balls slapped against your ass with every snap of his hips, and you could feel yourself growing closer and closer to orgasming.

“M-Minho, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, feeling your walls clench around your fingers as you kept fingering yourself to the memory of him making you love to you, and you eventually did just that…

Your climax ripped through your body like a freight train, and you imagined Minho’s orgasm following yours soon after, filling you up with his hot release.

Panting out loud, you slipped your fingers from your cunt, only opening your eyes slightly now as you melted back into reality, wishing that Minho could be right beside you now like he was back then…

You thought about the way he looked at you with a satisfied smile before pulling you into a tight embrace.

“I love you, ____,” his voice responded in the back of your mind as a gentle whisper, and you felt yourself becoming sleepy as you turned to lay on your side, still shaken up from climaxing so fast…

“I love you too, Minho,” you whispered to yourself as if he could hear it, smiling with closed eyes as you finally fell fast asleep, just mere hours from facing the morning ahead of you…

THE NEXT MORNING came by faster than you expected as a now fully clothed and much less sweaty Minho stood at your doorstep, a dainty porcelain dish resting in the grasp of his veiny hands.

You had invited him over to stay over at your place until the broken AC situation at his place got sorted out, and you were more than ready to spend the next few days with him under the same roof as you…

“I come bearing treats,” he chirped with a smile as you welcomed him in with a friendly hand.

He was wearing a dark turtleneck sweater and dark pants to match with an auburn, plaid trench coat to top of his gold accessories.

“Oh, Minho,” you began while taking the tray from him, a certain smell having distracted your train of thought, “you didn't have to go out of your way and… wait… is there espresso in this?”

“Mhm,” your friend nodded proudly while kicking off his shoes before making his way to your all-too-familiar kitchen where he opened the fridge door for you, “with mascarpone creammm, lady fingersss, cocoa powderrrr—”

“You made me tiramisu?” You asked with widened eyes, making him chuckle a bit at your shocked reaction.

“As a symbol of my appreciation since you opened your home up to me, of course,” Lino smiled before leaning against the kitchen counter, and you couldn’t help yourself from giving him a hug in this moment.

At first, his body tensed up at the way your hands felt upon wrapping around him so suddenly, but he eventually relaxed as you lazily spoke the words, “You feel like a human oven right now…”

“And you feel like a freezer,” Minho returned while chuckling, just as you broke from the hug.

“Yea... I guess that happens sometimes when your air conditioner isn't busted…” you shrugged sarcastically, and Minho gives you a painfully forced laugh before following your trail back to the living room—

“Where're your cats?” You inquire, noticing that he had brought all of their play and food gear, but the pets themselves were no where in sight.

“Oh, they're waiting for me in the car, actually,” he said, walking past you to put his shoes back on at the front door.

“So your precious little felines are too good for a local pet-sitter now?” You tease, feeling your heart warm up at the sound of him snickering at your comment.

“Not just that,” he began, “my little kitties are angel's indeed, but I'm not ignorant to the fact that they can be a handful... even for me...”

You let his words sink in, taking a mental note of what he said.

“Want me to help you gather them from your car then?” You offer, meeting him where he stood at the door now.

“Please,” Minho scoffed, side-eyeing you with a small smirk, “you doubt that I can handle my own three baby's or something? I mean... c'mon, have you seen my arms lately?”

“No, actually... just your thighs,” you said while tilting your head at him, clearly checking him out, and the look he gives you would’ve otherwise knocked you clean off your feet if he was any closer to you—

Beep beep.

The sound of Minho’s car blared in the distance as you pressed to “UNLOCK” bottom on his keys upon the two of you making your way outside together.

Single-handedly, Minho opens the door for himself, and you watch with a shy smile as he scoops his cats up in his arms, their dainty paws tugging and scratching at his jacket almost immediately.

“So much for making me feel loved and cherished, you guys...” Minho says jokingly as of his cats can understand his words, and you help by opening the door for him to come back inside when you get a notification from your phone.

The sound catches Minho’s attention immediately, but you’re not aware of the dinging until you hear it again… and again, til you hear it a total of five times.

“Looks like someone’s popular today,” your friend says from behind you while setting his cats down to roam the house freely.

“Eh, it’s probably just my boss,” you return while walking over to your desk to see who the message is from, “I have a meeting later today, and he’s probably just wondering if I’m still up for it…”

Her boss?… Sending her more than three messages in a row?… Minho thought to himself in the back of his mind, and his ears are quick to notice how quiet you get suddenly.

He waits for you to say something… anything at all, but you remain silent, a focused expression taking over your face now as your thumbs tap your phone screen like crazy.

Ding.

Another message comes through, and Minho can’t ignore the curiosity brewing inside him anymore.

“Who’re you texting?”

“A friend… good thing it wasn’t my boss…”

“What friend?” He asks again, and he’s trying to hide the irritation in his voice as you fail to look him in the eyes while speaking to him.

“Just Jake…”

“Jake?” Minho repeated, almost sounding disgusted that you had even said such a thing, “you mean that… that dog guy?”

“If that’s what people are calling him these days, then yes, that dog guy,” you return plainly, eyes still glued to your phone.

Minho makes sure your front door is locked before walking past you to grab the remote from your desk, clicking the TV on so his cats could watch something while sitting on your couch.

“Whatever,” he scoffed beneath his breath, and you only spare him a quick glance before going right back to texting, “you’re clearly more of a cat person anyways… right?”

“Lino, he was just wishing me good luck at my meeting, alright?”

Yea, the meeting you didn’t even bother telling me about, Minho thought to himself again before your voice interrupted him to say:

“It’s really not that deep…”

“Right… not like I'd expect much depth from Mr. Short-Stuff to begin with—”

“Bro, knock it off, will you? You two are literally the same height for crying out loud…”

“Who said I was talking about height?”

You look up from your phone, giving him a deadpan look as you sighed with frustration, “Minho…”

“Alright, alright, I'm knocking it off now, relax…” he said as the sound of a random TV show filled h the w background now, and he internally rolled his eyes at the way you were acting with him now.

“Thank you…” you replied half-heartedly before setting your phone down on your desk finally, “and enough about Jake for the rest of the time you’re here, please… he's not a concern to you…”

“Yea, of course,” Minho sarcastically agreed as he made his way over to sit on the couch with his cats, “no concerns… no worries… you and I are just friends at the end of the day, too, right?”

“Right… just friends…” you returned, just as the alarm clock on your phone went off this time.

“Shit, I gotta get ready… I’ll be doing my meeting here at my desk, so if you could turn the TV off once I come back, that’d be great, yea?” You asked in a rushed tone, and Minho simply nodded, right before you made your way to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

Sighing, the poor guy couldn’t help but feel threatened by Jake’s presence in your life… and as hard as it was for Minho to admit, Jake was a good looking guy who had an equally attractive personality to go with it…

“We’re just friends,” Minho said to himself in a mocking tone as his cat Dori crawled into his lap, purring softly for cuddles…

“Yea,” he continued to say out loud, feeling the stress in his hands barely ease away as he massaged the top of Dori’s head, “friend’s who fuck each other…”

ABOUT AN HOUR had passed before your meeting was finally all done and over with, and to your favor, everything turned out great!…

Though, you still expected to be glued to your desk for at least another hour or two as your boss had assigned you with a new company proposal to work on.

Your home-printer had just finished spitting out a stack of 25 sheets of paper that you were expected to have proof-read and revised by the next morning.

Yes, you genuinely did love your job… but sometimes, the workload could be a handful, and it wasn’t helping one bit that Lino and his cats were having a play date just a few feet away from you.

Cat toys like fuzzy balls and squeaky fish decorated your floor like a daycare center as the three animals crawled on every surface they could in your home.

Paying Minho a quick look, he was still sitting on the couch, Soonie laying on his chest as he brushed over her fluffy body with his hand, cooing at the sleepy creature…

Seeing Minho behave so lovingly with his pets always touched a soft spot inside you, and that’s when he senses your eyes are on him, turning his head on the couch briefly to return a glance.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” He began, and the cat visibly purred at the feeling of Minho’s deep voice vibrating against her body.

“Very,” you said softly, looking away now as you reached for the nearby stapler, clipping the stack of paper in place, “so beautiful that it’s distracting, in fact…”

“I wasn’t talking to you, silly,” Minho chuckles, making your eyebrows screw into confused squiggles—

“I was asking Soonie about you…” he finishes, looking back at your for a second with a loving look in his eyes, and you try not to smile at his words, only because you know how much he likes teasing you for getting flustered with him…

You loved the way Lino’s presence always had a way of warming you up from the outside-in, and you almost started to feel guilty for giving him such a hard time earlier.

Clink!… Splash…

“Dori, watch out!” You called out suddenly with a loud voice, and Minho turns to see what you’re yelling about.

“That’s Doongie, ____… she’s the orange one, remember?” Minho asked jokingly, but you’re too distressed now to pay his humor any mind.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have bought so many cats so I could recall their goofy names better…” you sighed with a broken voice now, looking at the mess before you that Minho was still oblivious to…

Dori, Doongie, or whatever he name was had leaped onto your desk out of excitement, only to knock over your cup of coffee, causing it to spill all over the documents you just printed…

And yea, it was obviously an accident, but this was the second time today that you ran into an obstacle since Minho arrived, and you couldn’t hold back your anger anymore…

“Heyyy, that’s not nice,” Minho began with a pout, though his voice sounded quiet in your ears as your eyes started to brim with frustrated tears, “my kittie's were very respectful when you first joined the family… even when you always stole their daddy’s attention…”

With a quiet sniffle, you wiped the tears from your eyes as fast as you could before Lino could notice it, sulking to yourself as you thought about how long it’d take to reprint all the papers and go over them with new revisions again…

“You’re right, Lino,” you said in a weak voice, picking up the curious orange cat from your desk as she was only starting to track coffee-paw prints all over your keyboard, “And sorry, Doongie… I shouldn’t have yelled at you...”

Everything was stressing you out, at this point, and it only made you feel worse for being such a miserable host to Minho, especially in his first day over.

“I’ll come back in a bit to clean this up, but I just need to lay down for a minute if that’s okay?” You whispered, and by time Lino could process everything that was happening l, you were already walking off back to your room.

“C-clean up?… ____, come back please,” Minho stood up from the couch, calling after you only to have you shut the door at his words… literally…

A small sigh fell from his lips as he walked over to where you sat, and he’s just now becoming aware of the huge mess of coffee and soggy papers all over your desk.

“Oh, Doongie…” Minho sighed again, looking back at his cat who sat quietly at the very top of the cat tree set, playing with one of the fuzzy toy balls she had carried from the floor, “way to go ruining my romantic moment…”

MINHO TOOK IT upon himself to help and tidy things up while you were regathering yourself in your bedroom.

Sure, he usually didn’t handle household chores much beyond cooking or baking, but he still made it his duty to correct some of the damage he had cost in one way or another.

A pile of dirty dishes in your sink became the centerpiece of your kitchen, coupled with the mini trashcan in the corner being filled to the top with old coffee pods, crumbled up sheets of paper, and takeout containers.

Though, by now he had already replaced the dirty trash bag with a new one, wiped off the coffee splatters from your desk and keyboard, printed a new copy of your work documents, and jotted down all the revisions you made to the best of his ability,

All that was left to do now was tackle the dishes you left behind...

Running some warm and bubbly water for the dishes, Minho slipped on a pair of rubber gloves, grabbed a sponge, and started scrubbing away.

You could faintly hear the clinking of plates from your room which made you run out to see what he was up to.

“Hello again, stranger….” Minho greeted sarcastically, despite the way he smiled at you.

“Hey…” you returned quietly while walking behind him and wrapping your arms at his waist... a gesture you're just now realizing you did a little too frequently to call yourselves just friends...

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you continued, looking beside his frame to watch as he rinsed the bubbles from around the sink, “I should be cleaning my own messes, Minho... you're supposed to be a guest, for Christ's sake…”

“I know,” he says softly, mirroring the tranquility in your tone, “just figured you could use the extra help, though…”

Slipping off the gloves, he hangs them over the sink, before removing your hands from hugging him, “Go in the den real quick, and I'll meet you in there...”

And either being too exhausted to object or simply obedient to his dominance, you do exactly as he says, walking back to the living room and taking a seat on the couch... and you're glad to find that his cats are sleeping in their shared kitty bed, resting soundly together.

Meanwhile, Minho was busy rummaging through your fridge, looking for the dessert tray he had brought earlier. He wanted to cute you a nice square of tiramisu from the dish before heading back to the living room, a single fork clad in his grasp.

You watched him with a raised eyebrow as he approached, placing the plate of tiramisu in your hands. He then settled at the end of the couch across from you, reaching down to grab your ankles and pull your legs toward him.

That was odd, you thought to yourself, very odd...

“So, let's skip the bullshit here and cut straight to the chase,” he began in a low voice, shamelessly letting his fingers trail up your calves before parting your legs open at the knees; “You’ve been trying to avoid me, haven't you?”

You let yourself blink a few times before challenging him in a similarly catty tone, “I don’t know, have you given me a reason to?”

“Of course not… Hell, I even made you this fancy ass dessert from scratch... you should be praising the air I breathe right now...”

“Alright, Gordon Ramsey... give me a second to taste it first and then I’ll decide if you deserve that much…” You replied, taking the fork that he handed to you from his grasp before sticking it into the fluffy treat and bringing it to your mouth.

“Finally... now how's it taste?” He asks, tilting his head at how long you took to swallow such a small bite.

“It's delicious,” you return with a nonchalant voice to egg him on even more, even though deep down you had to fight the urge to take another bite.

It was almost shocking how good it tasted, and his ratio of all the ingredients was worth cultivating an entire culinary study for...

Though, your train of thought was soon interrupted once he leaned in closer to you, resting his flexed hands on the couch armrest you laid your head on, caging you beneath his frame...

“Y'know... you seemed much more pleasant over text the other night, but now... you're cold… what changed?” Minho asked, and you fought the feeling of nerves growing within your stomach, thinking back to how you imagined him on top of you just like this while you fucked yourself dizzy with your fingers...

“Maybe it’s this,” you whispered, tugging at the lower hem of his shirt, as a glint of playfulness flickered in his eyes, “you should know by now how bothered I get when thing's keep getting in the way of my desires...”

“Good, then. I’ll keep it on so you have something to hang onto,” he returned through a smirk, and you scoffed at him, right before taking another bite of the tiramisu.

“Please, just drop the act, ____,” Minho chuckled at your failed attempt at being intimidating, “You’ve practically been eye fucking me this whole time, anyway, so it's no surprise you’ve been so moody all day… you need me to fuck your nerves away, huh?”

“Oh, don't flatter yourself, Minho,” you retort, even though the dirty manner of his words makes you feel a rush inside.

Clink.

You take the fork, digging into the tiramisu once more as you gathered a hefty forkful, right before feeding some to Minho.

Though, a bit of the cream lingers at the corner of his mouth, and you moisten the tip of your thumb with your own spit before swiping at his lips and asking, “You always eat this messy?”

And Minho only responds with the fattest smirk you've seen all day, grabbing your wrist as he took your whole thumb in his mouth, humming around it as he sucked it clean before releasing it with a pop.

“You freaky bastard—”

“Just admit that you miss my touch…” Minho interrupts your insult, his voice laced with seduction as he shimmies all the way between your legs now, pressing his crotch against yours, “you’re doing anything you can to put your hands on me, anyway… so why don't you just take what you want?”

His question meddles in the fog of your mind, and you feel your heart rate start to increase just from having his body pressed so close to yours...

It was different from the times when you'd innocently hug him... it was different from the fantasies you had in the darkness of your room while completely alone... and above all, it was different when you were sober, fully present to experience every emotion bubbling inside you, even the nervous ones.

“Poor baby,” Lino pouts, and his voice pulls you back from your thought, shivering from wishing as he takes the cold, metal fork and runs it along the side of your neck, “you're too shy for your own good...”

His words resound in the back of your mind again, and you're not sure how long they linger there, but before you know it, he has his lips against yours, kissing you deeply as the thought of tiramisu is long gone, the pastry plate sitting on the floor now.

And he's groaning into your mouth, the taste of espresso on his tongue making you chase his lips even more, but only for his hand to keep pushing you down by the chest.

“M-Minho,” you mumble in between kissing him, “could you stop teasing me for one fucking second, please?...”

He lets himself chuckle at your neediness, smiling against your lips now as he whispers, “Sorry, kitty... I just like getting you worked up sometimes...”

And that's when your turn comes around to make him feel flustered as you let one of your hands find the base of his neck, and his breath hitches as you squeeze slightly, watching as the sexiest smirk overtakes his face now.

Leaning back down, Minho kisses you even harder now, and his hips can't help but to grind against you, and even though his movements are gentle at first, you let out a desperate moan that let's him know to keep going.

Both your bodies were heating up like crazy now as Minho's hand slowly crept under the soft cotton of your shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your stomach.

His breath was just as hot against your lips as his tongue danced with yours, making you shiver with anticipation as you both explored and claimed every inch of each other's mouths.

Foul wet sounds were filling the space now as his pelvis kept bumping into yours, rolling against you in fluid waves as if he was doing the sweetest dance of lust with you.

Minho's hands found their way under your shirt again, but this time he reached for the clasp of your bra, unhooking the latch with deft fingers and freeing your aching breasts from the confines.

You whined into his mouth as his hands cupped the weight of your tits, letting his thumbs teasing your nipples to hardness as your hands got equally busy, clinging at his shirt as you fought to get it off of him.

As your palms made contact with his warm flesh, you dug your nails into his back, urging him closer to you as a shaky grunt slipped past his own lips now, glaring at you with darkened eyes as the pain you caused mixed with pleasure.

Breaking from the kiss, Minho left a trail of wet kisses along your jaw before stopping at the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder.

He sucked and nibbled, marking you as his, and your eye rolled to the back of your head at the tantalizing feeling of his rough bulge humping against your clothed cunt.

It wasn't long before you two decided to change positions, though, straddling Minho's lap so that his rock-hard erection was trapped between your two bodies, allowing you to rock your hips at the perfect angle to draw him over the edge.

And you both were cursing under your breath at this point, practically drooling at the sensation of you rubbing your heat against his hardening length through your clothes.

Forcing you down and against his body, Minho captured your mouth in his again, claiming it with urgency as his tongue mimicked the rhythm of your hips.

You felt your arousal start to seep through your panties, and that was likely the last straw Minho needed to let himself go, whining beneath you as your hips bucked against his erratically.

“Oh, fuckkk!” You cried out, feeling your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as Minho, with one final thrust, felt himself cumming in his pants, a warm and sticky stain rising to the surface of his pants now as you cried out each others names, waves of pleasure consuming you both...

Panting and covered in the evidence of your mutual pleasure, you let your spent body collapse against him, hearing his heart race against your head as you laid on his chest.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, a satisfied yet tired smile on his face, “that went by so fast, but it felt so good,” he went on, “so... fucking... good...”

You laughed at his words, feeling how his warm breath tickling the top of your head.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” you added, just as one of his hands moved up to stroke your hair slightly...

Snuggling impossibly closer to him, you hear him let out a sigh, one that started in agreement and ended in painful realization...

“I should probably get cleaned up now so you can finish revising that company proposal before the morning comes,” Minho says, but his words make you cling to him even harder, making it obvious to him that you had no intention of leaving him alone again anytime soon...

⋆♱✮ Thank you to everyone who made it to the end of this highly belated birthday fic, which actually concludes DAY 5 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

@crownj1min @jay-0n3s @gacktsa @leeknowinggg

@d-dilemma @mrsjohnnysuh

[likeumeanit9497]

red pill | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n is keeping score of a strange game between her friends when things get a little bit out of control ;)

warnings: SMUT; unprotected p in v; oral (m receiving); fingering; spanking; hair pulling; dirty talk; use of boner pillz; face fucking; 18+

notes: this has been sitting half-finished in my drafts since the triplets posted that one photo dump (iykyk) and i FORGOT ABOUT IT until today. when i first started writing this i couldn't decide if it should be a matt or chris fic but was obviously going through a chris phase when i started it soooo chris girlies this is for u. HOWEVER stay tuned matt girls because i plan on making a blue pill version;) anyways love y'all lots MUAH MUAH MUAH

“This is so fucking stupid.” Matt groaned, sitting in between his brothers on the living room couch, holding a single red pill delicately in between two fingers as though it was a toxin. “Bro you’re the one who came up with the idea and bought them.” Chris retorted, inspecting the identical pill in his own hand. “Yeah, and I have no fucking clue why I agreed to this.” Nick chimed in, his voice filled with misery. “Because you can never turn down a competition.” I replied cheekily from my place on the other couch, giggling at the boys’ petty arguing.

Leaning forward, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket — opening up the timer app and hovering my finger over the start button. “Now hurry up and take them dummies, I’ll keep score.” I peered up at them as they gave each other tentative looks, seemingly hoping that one was going to have a change of heart. When nothing but silence followed, they all seemed to unanimously commit, dropping the red pills on their tongues and chasing them down with soda. As soon as they swallowed, I started the timer and sat back; crossing my arms across my chest with a smirk plastered to my face.

After the guys had posted the video at the gas station where Matt was talking about his idea for the sex pills, I had jokingly messaged him saying that I would gladly keep score if they really did it. Taking my message seriously, Matt had secretly gone out and grabbed three pills before inviting me over tonight. Thinking we were all just going to hangout, I was shocked when I showed up to find the pills neatly lined up on the coffee table and the three brothers pacing around the room arguing. After plenty of deliberation, Matt finally convinced Nick and Chris, and now here they were; awkwardly looking between themselves and me.

“How long do these even take to kick in?” Asked Chris, toying with the can of Pepsi in his hand. Grabbing one of the packages from the coffee table, Matt examined it for a moment. “It says thirty minutes.” He replied, sighing and running a hand through his messy hair. “This is ridiculous.” Remarked Nick, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in everyone in the room. Still giggling, I stretched my legs along the couch. “Oh come on,” I whined, “Relax, get comfy, and let the games begin.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Okay, this isn’t working.” Nick deadpanned, locking his phone and throwing it beside him. “Really?” Asked Chris, turning to face his brother. Dropping his jaw, Nick made a disgusted face. “Is it for you?” Chris smirked bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m feeling somethin’.” He replied, to which Matt and Nick both groaned. “What about you Matt?” I asked, eyeing his still-relaxed frame leaning against the couch. Jutting out his bottom lip, he shrugged. “No, nothin’.” Chris groaned beside him, and I couldn’t help but notice him adjust himself slightly. “Great, now I feel weird.” He said, grabbing a blanket and swiftly draping it across his lap. I laughed and slowly pulled myself up from the couch.

“Looks like you might end up being the loser.” I teased as I began tidying up the packages strewn around the room. “I will n-” Dropping to my knees, I collected torn up pieces of packaging that had gathered at Chris’s feet. Noticing that Chris’s words had been cut short and now the room had fallen into heavy silence, I glanced up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes — which from up close seemed glassy and dilated — were on me, his mouth open slightly from his disrupted speech, and even his breathing seemed slightly rapid as his chest rose and fell.

Noticing this, Nick threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Chris are you serious? See I knew this was a fucking horrible idea.” His sharp words pulled Chris’s eyes away from me, and he winced at his brother. “I’m sorry,” He replied, his words aimed at both Nick and myself, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.” He added, seeming to grow increasingly uncomfortable. I giggled nervously before pulling myself back up to my feet. “It’s okay.” I reassured him before bringing the packages to the garbage; using the short walk to recover from that oddly intense moment.

As I returned, I suddenly noticed Matt fidgeting in his place on the couch, his brows knit in what seemed to be anguish. With Nick scrolling on his phone and Chris burying his head in his hands, I seemed to be the only one noticing Matt’s sudden discomfort. I chuckled as I slid back into my seat. “You good Matt?” I asked, teasing him. His eyes shot up to mine, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “Uh…yeah. All—all good.” He replied, his voice thick and slightly raspy.

Glancing down at my phone, I check the timer. It had been 32 minutes since they took the pills. I smiled gently. “Right on time.” I replied, shooting him a knowing look which just made him grow even more visibly restless. My comment grabbed the attention of Nick and Chris, and they turned to look at their rosy-cheeked brother. “You too?” Nick shouted, jumping up off of the couch. Matt grimaced, shrugging his shoulders again. “It’s not like I can control it.” He replied, letting out an uncomfortable laugh. Sighing, Nick began walking towards the stairs. “Whoa! Where are you going?” Chris asked him. “Nothing is happening to me dumbass! And I will absolutely not be sitting around you two anymore now that you’re both bricked up.” He sassed as he began climbing the stairs. “Good luck Y/n!” He called as he disappeared into his bedroom.

“Looks like we’re in a 1 v 1.” I said, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly. I registered the look of torment on the faces of Matt and Chris, and decided that it would be in my best interest to hold back my laughter. “Let’s see who can make it to an hour.” I added. Chris grunted as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I’ll be lucky if I make it another five minutes.” He replied, his voice also more gruff than usual. “Aww c’mon, you can do it.” I encouraged, moving to place a reassuring hand on his knee but deciding against it. As the room fell back into silence, I could hear Matt’s heavy breathing permeated by the occasional soft whine.

Although I was trying to keep things light-hearted, their overwhelming arousal was growing more and more palpable. My wandering eyes flittered from Matt’s bottom lip pulled in between his teeth to Chris’s temple coated in a sheen of sweat. As I focused on their features, it was as though their chemically-induced lust was contagious. I began to feel my own heart pounding in my chest, and I noticed a dampness in my panties that hadn’t been there before. In that silent room, all of our desires suddenly fell in sync with one another, and it was growing harder and harder to ignore.

“I need to go deal with this.” Chris suddenly blurted out, his voice laced with urgency as his focused eyes stared straight ahead. “You’re throwin’ in the towel?” Asked Matt, his lips curling into a smile infused with what seemed to be an odd combination of arrogance and relief. Chris winced as he tried to lean forward, nodding his head intensely. I watched in painful silence as he folded his hands together and pressed them against his plump lips, deep in thought. Very slowly, his eyes were pulled in my direction.

I froze under his gaze, the look he was giving me was worth a thousand words. My brows furrowed momentarily, instinctually denying what his eyes were asking me, before I felt my body begin to react. Heart pounding in my ears, I leaned back against the couch and crossed my legs; dying for some relief. “Hey—what’s going on?” Matt’s voice infiltrated mine and Chris’s stare-down. Picking up on the shift of air in the room, his eyebrows shot up. “Chris, no! That’s not how this works.” He exclaimed, turning to face his brother. Still looking at me, a smirk pulled at the corner of Chris’s lips. “We never laid down any ground rules kid.” He replied, and I felt my throat go dry.

“Well…” Matt’s exasperated voice trailed off for a moment, “Well, who said you get to fuck her?” The words sat heavy in the air around us, the reality of the situation being verbalized for the first time. I couldn’t manage to get a single word out if I tried, nor did I have the power to pull my eyes from Chris’s heady gaze. Chris chuckled, pulling himself off of the couch before slowly beginning to walk towards me. “No one,” He began, his voice suddenly menacing, “That’s up to her.” He finished just as he stopped in front of me, his frame towering above me with his tantalizing bulge directly in my line of sight.

Very slowly, he leaned down so that we were once again face-to-face. I felt my cheeks burn red from the situation I had suddenly found myself in, and the desire was radiating off of me in pulses. “What do you say?” He asked, his dilated eyes flooded with amusement. I swallowed, trying my best to re-instate my own vocal chords. Just as I was about to squeak out a response, a mindless gasp fell from my lips as Chris ducked his head down; his face buried in my neck.

My eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but once they opened they immediately landed on Matt’s tense figure sitting on the couch. His eyes were wide open, showing me just how badly he was suffering in that moment. The sheer need radiating from his gaze on me was infiltrating my mind, but the feeling of Chris’s warm breath dancing against my neck made it difficult for anything else to matter.

A whisper-soft moan slipped from my lips as Chris’s tongue delicately swiped against my clammy skin, and on instinct my hands flew to the back of his hair. Noticing my pitiful reaction, Chris chuckled against my skin. “I think I have my answer.” He whispered before pulling away from my neck and instead resuming our mind-numbingly erotic staring contest.“Matt get out.” Chris ordered, not even bothering to pull his hungry eyes away from me. As soon as Matt groaned, huffing out a disappointed “Fuck” as he headed for his room, Chris’s ravenous mouth was on mine.

I sucked in a sharp breath from the sheer dominance of his mouth. Lips tumbling in urgency, I felt his tongue toy with my lips; begging for entrance. Obliging, I moaned softly as his warm tongue flicked into my mouth, running against my own in slow, intoxicating movements. “Chris.” I panted, my voice thick with lust as his rapacious mouth began travelling down my neck. His hands snaked up my body, taking their time along my bare legs and stomach before tugging against the hem of my bunched up tank.

“Off.” He growled authoritatively. Without hesitating, I threw the thin white material over my head and let it drop to the floor. As soon as my pebbled tits were exposed, Chris’s greedy hands cupped onto them; exploring their shape as his thumbs ran along my sensitive nipples. Goosebumps raised on my skin at the feeling of his covetous, almost controlling touch. His hands and mouth moved as though he had no control over them — as though they owned the body that they were exploring.

His mouth dropped down to my chest. Taking one of my nipples in his mouth, a deep moan vibrated against my blazing skin. I laced my fingers through his hair, tugging gently against his roots as pleasure surged through my body. “Fuck, I’m so hard Y/n.” He said roughly as he nibbled at my skin. Mouth watering from the need he was exhibiting so transparently, my legs widened subconsciously as I writhed for more contact. “Let me h-help then.” I replied, my voice airy from how breathless he was making me.

Chris immediately straightened up, standing in front of me. Holding the bottom of his t-shirt up between his teeth, he began fumbling wildly with his belt. As soon as the metal unbuckled, my hands flew to his jeans, my own desperation causing me to yank down his zipper and slip his baggy pants and boxers down just enough to allow his swollen cock to spring free. As soon as the cold air brushed against his leaking tip, Chris released a gasp of relief. “Fuck, need your mouth.” He muttered, his droopy eyes peering down at me as I took in the immeasurable size of his length.

As I sat frozen in shock, the silky skin of his tip brushed against my pouting lips, snapping me out of my hypnosis. I opened my mouth, granting him the ability to place his cock on my tongue. I looked up at him through my lashes, taking in his panicky and disheveled appearance as his desperate cock pulsed against my drooling tongue. Slowly, I wrapped my lips around his girth, sucking in my cheeks lightly; earning a sharp groan and an indignant thrust of his hips. My eyes stayed glued to his as I began swirling my tongue along his swollen ridge, his salty pre-cum dissolving against my satisfied taste buds.

His jaw went slack as he watched me, deep in a trance. His hands found the back of my head, where he laced his strong fingers through my wavy hair; seeming to put up a fight against an all-consuming urge to sink all eight inches down my welcoming throat. Just as his eyes darkened, seconds from losing all self-control, I gave him some of the relief he was dying for by slowly bobbing my head up and down his veiny shaft. A long hiss escaped his mouth, his eyes burned into the sight before him — into me — as I took more and more of him in my mouth on each movement.

“Fuck.” He groaned, his words clipped, as his hands tightened in my hair. Slowly, I noticed him use his grip on my head to help guide my movements; sliding my mouth along his cock in a steady rhythm. As I looked up at him, I noticed the tension rolling throughout his entire body — his abdomen flexed, arms veiny, face reddening — caused by the self-restrain he was so obviously practicing combined with the crushing arousal that he was experiencing. To help him, I relaxed my throat and gave up moving my head on my own. He noticed my sudden lack of movement, but after scanning my face in concern for a moment, quickly accepted my wordless offering by slowly rolling his hips.

He moved gently at first, his eyes trained on mine as though he was gauging where my limitations stood. With each thrust, he slid his cock just a little further down my throat, until finally my nose was pressed taut against the sprinkle of hair along his pelvis. He held me there for a moment, looking down in awe at the sight of every inch of him buried in my warm, wet mouth. As I began tightening my throat around his shaft, growing restless, his breath seemed to grow more and more ragged — until all at once his self-control seemed to vanish.

I gasped around his cock as he suddenly grabbed my head with both hands, keeping me completely still as he began pounding his cock down my throat. Tears began forming in my eyes from the sheer force of his movements. “G-good girl.” He breathed, his eyes focused on my pink lips as they stretched to accommodate his laboured thrusts. I tried to moan — the lust emitting from Chris as he face fucked me caused my panties to flood — but my vocal chords were stifled by his ravaging cock. Instead, I turned into a zombie: my glossy eyes rolled to the back of my head as strings of saliva poured from the corners of my stretched out mouth.

Chris’s breathing grew so ragged that it was intimidating. Each rough thrust drew a guttural moan from his lips, making my head spin with desire. Suddenly, my eyes flew open in shock as Chris used his strong grip on my hair to pull me back; my head now pressed firmly against the back of the couch as he drove his cock down my throat. Unable to breathe, I entered a foreign state of ecstasy as Chris planted one of his legs onto the couch to get even deeper access; pushing me to my limits.

Just as I was about to grab onto his leg and, with pleading eyes, let him know I needed a break, the most erotic moan I had ever heard fell from his swollen lips. “G-gonna cum baby.” He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he seemed to focus on the overwhelming build up inside of him. Flooded with arousal, I suddenly regained the ability to take his strained, erratic thrusts. “You look so fuckin’ good with my cock in your mouth.” He groaned, his words punctuated by his sharp thrusts. I released an unsteady whimper in response, staring up at his haggard face.

“Shiiit.” Chris’ voice was drawn out as he made one final thrust, letting his cock hit the back of my throat one last time before I felt his warm seed erupt; filling my drooling mouth with thick ropes of the salty fluid as his cock twitched against my tongue. I kept my eyes on his as I eagerly swallowed his cum, and watched as his glazed-over expression of bliss switched to one much more alert and hungry.

Very slowly, he pulled his still-hard cock out of my mouth with a pop. I stayed perfectly still, staring up at him with an inquisitorial look in my eyes, and flinched when I felt his thumb run along my bottom lip to collect his spilt seed before pushing it back in between my lips. After eagerly lapping up the residue, my lips were once again engulfed by Chris’s. He moaned at the taste of himself on my tongue, and his hands wasted no time before tugging down my shorts.

He detached his lips from mine, leaving me a panting mess, as his gaze was pulled to my trembling heat. Just barely concealed by my soaking wet thong, I felt my slippery walls flex around nothing from his attention alone. Chris hooked his fingers into the waistband of my thong, pulling it down my legs torturously slow as I watched his chest rise and fall. Once I was fully exposed, the cold air against my swollen clit caused me to widen my legs; begging for his warm touch.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” Chris breathed, his voice an almost-whisper, as he ran his hands along my upper thighs. Once they reached my outer-most folds, he used his thumbs to spread me apart; admiring the way my juices dripped down to his knuckles. I trembled, feeling erotically pinned down by both his powerful hands and strong gaze, dying for him to touch me. I noticed the way he was holding me so tightly, the way his lower lip was pulled between his teeth, before his eyes shot back up to mine. “Turn around.” He ordered gruffly.

Knowing that I didn’t have the willpower to refuse even if I had wanted to, I turned around. Spreading my legs wider and bending my knees, I leaned my exposed chest against the back of the couch for support as I became more and more aware of the heat radiating off of his famished body behind me. I felt the weight on the couch shift just before I felt his hand snake up my spine to once again lace through my messy hair; the warm, wet feeling of his tongue sending aftershocks along my over-reactive skin.

His chest, now completely bare, pressed against my back as his face nuzzled against my shoulder; nibbling gently with his front teeth. Arching my back, I gasped as his free hand came around to my front; finding my clit blindly before rubbing quick circles against it. A stunned moan of relief slipped from my lips, muffled by the soft fabric of the couch, as I felt my body begin to melt under his nimble fingers. “Fuck Chris, r-right there.” I breathed, engulfed in the pleasure of his steady movements.

“You’re so fuckin’ soaked baby,” He purred against my red-hot ear, “You sure you didn’t take a pill too?” His deep voice, laced with amusement, reverberated through my scattered brain. Attempting to laugh in response, I was cut short by the unmistakable feeling of his warm tip, still glossy from my mouth, pressing against my drooling slit. “Mmm.” I groaned, writhing slowly in an attempt to pull him into me.

Noticing this, Chris chuckled menacingly against my skin. “You want my cock pretty girl?” His words shot straight to my core, and aimlessly I tried to grab his poised length in my greedy hand. Tauntingly, he pulled his hips back so his cock was out of reach. “Wanna hear you say it.” He asserted, his fingers slowing against my bundle of nerves. Whining, I turned my head so that I could see his face to my right. Lids droopy, I spoke with urgency. “Please, Chris,” I felt a string of arousal slip down my thigh, “Please g-give me your c-cock.”

With a satisfied smirk across his face, Chris kept his eyes on mine as his hand abandoned my clit. Brows furrowed from the lack of contact, I was just about to let out a dissatisfied groan when I felt the heat of his cock press against my trembling core. I watched his eyes flutter from the feeling of my folds just beginning to wrap around him, and in one swift motion, he split me in half.

Gasping, I had no time to adjust to Chris’s sinful girth before he started pounding into me. My walls stretched more than they ever had before, but welcomed his cock graciously by spilling pools of arousal along its length. “Jesus Christ.” Chris moaned in my ear, overwhelming lust clear in his voice, though it didn’t seem to reign over his powerful movements. The sloppy, wet sounds of our bodies slapping together echoed throughout the living room, their provocative recoils muddling my thoughts.

Chris straightened himself up behind me, keeping his one hand knit through my hair but placing his other on my ass cheek; pressing down so that my back was arched as much as it could be. “You’re making a b-big fuckin’ mess on me baby.” He uttered, using his grip on my ass to spread me apart; admiring the sight of his cock disappearing inside of my oozing pussy. “F-feels so good.” I moaned in response, mouth going slack as I relished in the feeling of his cock squeeze through my spongey walls.

His pace began to quicken, my cunt trembling from the new rapid pace. I could barely lift my head from the back of the couch; his cock dominated every part of me. Deep, throaty groans slipped from his mouth every few seconds, his grip on my hair tightened as he struggled to keep up his pace. “Touch yourself.” He suddenly ordered, his voice rushed and gruff. With a moan, I brought my fingers to my clit where I began to draw tight circles in sync with Chris’s rhythm.

As my bundle of nerves danced between my trembling fingers, my pleasure was profoundly intensified. “Oh god!” I cried out, my voice sounding brutish to my own ears. “K-keep going C-Chris!” I felt myself begin to crumble, my climax violently approaching. As if reading my mind, he grunts from behind me. “You gonna cum?” Unable to respond with words, I nodded my head rapidly as I chewed on my bottom lip. A sharp slap against my ass caused me to gasp, my pussy starting to convulse around his rock hard length. “That’s a good girl, cum for me baby.”

His soft words worked paradoxically with his rough thrusts and stinging slap, and I was immediately hit by an orgasm so brutal, so all-consuming, that I felt my soul drift from my body. For a moment, my body stilled, void of any sign of life, as my orgasm constricted all of my senses. I felt nothing; heard nothing; saw nothing; until a wave of pleasure, the colour of blood, came screaming at me — attacking my nerves and bringing me back to life.

My legs shook, nails dug into the couch, back contorted to the point where it looked broken, as the scream of a possessed woman spilled from my mouth. Chris tightened his grip on my hair, pulling my head off of the couch and wrapping his free hand around my mouth to stifle my uncontrollable moans. As I cried out his name into his possessing hand, his movements slowed tremendously; my spasming cunt suffocating his cock. “J-Jesus.” Chris panted from behind me, struggling to keep his composure as he slowly sunk himself into me; doing his best to drive me through my high before he lost all control.

I began to gain composure over my body as my orgasm subsided — I could feel my weak limbs and filter the words that spilled from my lips. Soft moans still escaped, however, as Chris continued to fuck me slowly; hissing between his teeth as he inched closer and closer to his own high. I felt my depleted walls continue to stretch for him, and fell into a slight hypnosis from the steady movements of our conjoined bodies.

“Turn around.” Chris’s urgent voice startled me back to my senses. He suddenly pulled his cock out of me in one quick movement, and as he did, I turned around to face him. Leaning with my back against the couch, I watched as he angled himself closer to me, pumping his red, swollen cock in his hand. After a few rapid jerks, Chris let out a deep guttural moan, shuddering before spilling his warm, milky, cum along my tits. My hungry eyes flittered between his face — eyes screwed shut in bliss, puffy lips pulled apart slightly, jaw tense — and the filthy portrait he was painting across my clammy skin.

Once a pool of his seed had collected in between my full tits, Chris released one more soft grunt before opening his eyes. They focused on his signature for a moment, before drifting up to my face; a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he took in my spent appearance. Taking a shaky breath, he leaned down to plant a soft kiss to my lips before using his discarded shirt to wipe up the mess he had made on my chest.

“Well, that turned out to be a pretty fun game.” He whispered, his words laced with humour. My eyes followed his gentle movements across my skin; watching as he took his time and made sure he left my skin seemingly untouched. Chuckling, all of my energy drained, I looked back up at his crimson-tinted face. “Let’s thank Matt.” I replied, laughing at the repulsed expression that took over his features. “You’re sick, kid.” He retorted, shaking his head, but I noticed the shameless smile creeping over his lips.

“I was kiddingggg,” I laughed, reaching for my discarded clothes, “Do you feel better though?” I asked, to which Chris dropped his gaze to his cock — still red and standing up flush against his stomach — looking back to me with a raised eyebrow as though he was saying, ‘What’s it look like?’. Chuckling, I grab my top and begin trying to put it on. “Sorry dude, I did the best I could.” Just as my vision was restricted by the material of my top over my eyes, I squealed as I felt Chris lift me up; bending me over his shoulder as he stood up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, my voice broken by laughter as I jokingly pounded on his shoulder. He was walking, now, and I couldn’t control my childish giggles as I tried to get my tank top off of my head. “We’re gonna go take a shower.” He replied just as I felt him begin to descend the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Maybe one more time will do the trick.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end

[tthoroughfare]

some random modern!abby headcanons as i Cannot think about anything else. NSFW in the latter half spit kink asf i’m not sorry

she’s chronically offline. has social media but does not use it — her IG has one photo from 3 years ago and the only other social media she has is a facebook account she made when she was 14. her entire page is just shit her dad tags her in; photos of her he’s taken while they’re on vacation, cringey middle aged humor, the Facebook Parent works

90% of the time only uses her phone for what a phone is actually for. probably has a super old one because she doesn’t see the point in replacing it; it’s somehow in like perfect condition though

texts in perfect grammar. before you got used to it you literally thought she was mad at you all the time. hasn’t got it figured out what emojis make sense contextually because she doesn’t really use them and occasionally sends you baffling messages like:

“Got off early. Can’t wait to see you. 😬” (was rushing and thought it was a smile)

but sometimes it’s also very cute, like a grandma who just figured out how to text:

“Do you want to tag along with Manny and Nora to a concert on Saturday? The people they were supposed to go with can’t anymore. 🎶🕺🎸”

the type of gf who will get you doing the most random activities. she’s constantly trying new hobbies and always wants you to be a part of it. she’ll decide on a sunday night she wants to pick up rock climbing, have you both signed up and in the climbing gym monday

or she’ll decide on a whim she wants to take you to a restaurant someone recommended even though it’s an hour and a half drive away

med student abby is canon abby…

she really didn’t want to be a cliche and go into it just because it’s what her dad does, but she was always encouraged to excel academically and found herself naturally drifting in that direction

she makes it look easy, but it’s really not. she gets stressed about everything a lot (particularly wrestling with worries about letting her dad down, which you reiterate she couldn’t do if she tried), but doesn’t really show anyone apart from you. you always make her feel better, though, just as she does for you with your problems

grew up well-off, but isn’t a dick about it. very generous with her money, always buying you little treats and picking up the bill despite your protests. takes you on weekends away wherever possible, or a bigger vacation somewhere tropical during the summer

honestly not the best cook… she’s just used to making food for herself, which tends to be pretty plain. gym bro meals ugh. however, has one or two incredible recipes she can pull out the BAG. makes them for you when she knows you’ve had a long day

would 100% be that post of the guy who set his alarm purposefully earlier so that he could wake up and cuddle his partner before he had to actually get up. she’s normally up before you, regardless of the day or time. abby’s an early riser; she loves the morning. you always stir with a warm drink on the bedside table, and either the sound of her pottering around the apartment or a text saying something along the lines of:

“Heading to the gym. Gave you a kiss before I left but you were still clean out, LOL.”

has extremely random and rogue music taste. same with movies. you figure this out not long into knowing her, when you’re talking about favorite films and she deliberates before carefully stating that her all-time top three are flushed away, interstellar and an old foreign movie you couldn’t pronounce if you tried

speaking of — loves movies! you guys frequent the cinema, but also like to stay in and have movie nights at home. you’ll watch just about anything together, taking it in turns to choose. when you stay in, you make it a Whole Thing. all the bedding gets moved to the living room, you buy snacks, she sits and lets you meticulously paint a face mask on her

sometimes, you’ll attentively watch the whole thing. sometimes, if you get halfway through and it’s not the best, she’ll allow her fingers to trail down from their position atop your upper arm in a manner she knows you’ll pick up on. dipping under your shirt and rubbing loose, gentle circles at your hip for what feels like forever, before nudging at your jaw with her nose and planting a light kiss. you turn to meet her, eyes flitting between hers and her lips; closing the gap and smirking against her mouth, “you’re not subtle.”

blowing air out of her nose and shrugging, she brings her free hand up to the nape of your neck, deepening the kiss. it’s slow and deliberate, everything from the way she moves her lips against yours, to how she steadily shifts you on top of her. she likes to take her time with you, gets off when you have to say please

segueing into nsfw… praise kink spit kink gentle domination vers dynamic hey now

loves it when you show her how desperate you are for her, through words or otherwise. while i can’t see her being much of a talker herself (not to say that’s at all), she encourages your blathering about how good she feels, how much you need her. bonus points if you throw her name in there somewhere

should the occasion arise will absolutely put you through the mattress with the strap, but much more so an acoustic girl. two finger tongue combo diva. for her, it’s all about feeling you. how you contract around her, the little signals your body gives her she’s learned so well

to her, that’s the main point of sex. feeling as much of you as she can, feeling close to you, showing you how much she worships you. it’s filthy, yet reverent and devoted. gets a little possessive sometimes, because you’re hers and only she can have you how she does

whether it be arched up, her fingers plowing into you as she kisses her way over your upper back, hand threaded through your hair. stopping to suck a mark where your neck meets your shoulder, murmuring to ask if you can take three (she knows you can, just wants to hear you say it)

or on top of her, legs slotted together and your hand firmly bracing yourself on her knee whilst you rut against her. hearing her get slightly louder and higher pitched, revelling in the way she looks up at you, brows drawn and eyes full. shared wetness pooling and mingling, her hands all over you like she can’t decide which inch of sweat-sheened skin she wants to touch more

or after you’ve eaten her out and she’s still coming down, you running a hand over the outside of her thigh then kissing over her stomach — making your way back up to her lips, allowing her to taste herself through the sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. licking into her dirtily, running a thumb over her lower lip and softly telling her to open. abby doing as you say; always does as you say. a glob of spit falling from your mouth to hers which she accepts gladly, breathing jagged as she swallows. spurred on, dragging you back in with fervor, moving a hand to circle over your sopping clit

she’s never been like this with anyone, never wanted everything of a person so badly. she’d do anything for you, to you, let you do anything to her

while she does like it to be languid, to last, sometimes she can’t help herself. it’ll be the morning and she’ll rouse, tired eyes dragging over your form. abby shifting closer and wrapping an arm around your waist, you’ll stir a little and groan softly, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek and pivoting your head to give her a kiss. both brains still foggy, operating on basic wants, it doesn’t take long for it to turn from an innocent good morning peck to a desperate mess of tongues. then, to her mouthing at your neck, sliding her fingertips over your bare torso to knead at your breast. you’ll tilt your head back, let out a mewl of her name, before remembering it’s a weekday.

“what time is it?” you’ll ask, freezing and subconsciously trying to look at the clock.

“don’t worry, we’ve got time,” she’ll respond against your skin without missing a beat, hand making its way between your legs and coaxing a sharp exhale from you, “i’ll be quick, i promise.”

she knows you well — she certainly can be quick. still has time to make you that coffee she always does, too.

[pinkboaclub]

Scene Stealers

Summery: You and Harry decide to film yourself having sex for fun, until you decide to upload it and become famous over night.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: a lot of smut, sex tapes/filmed sex, pornstars, slight dom Harry, fem!reader (you and Harry attend a University in the US, but he is still English :)

It started as an intimate moment between you two, something that you thought would be funny. You were cuddling in your dorm room, squeezing yourselves into the twin bed, watching a movie on your laptop. Your roommate was gone, she was spending the weekend with her family, which allowed you two to get close.

It was slow, Harry giving you light kisses on your head as it rested on his chest, your hand resting on his abdomen, slowly rubbing up and down every once in a while. It wasn’t until Harry paused the movie and closed the laptop that you climbed on top of him, straddling his body. You leaned down to start making out with him, letting your hands grip his shirt as you started to grind yourself against his crotch. Your already short shorts were starting to ride up while he gripped your ass.

“Mmm, let me see you.” He lightly pushed you forward, motioning you to sit up as he pulled away from your lips. You giggled, not really knowing what he was trying to do. “I want to take a picture of you.”

“No, my hair looks so crazy right now.” You laughed, covering your face as he grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

“You look so perfect.” He placed one hand on your hip, capturing you while you hid behind your hands. “C’mon baby, let me see your pretty face.”

You finally uncovered your face to let him quickly snap his photos.

“Are you done yet?” You laughed as he kept his phone pointed toward you.

“I’m taking a video.”

“Harryyy.” You said, drawing out his name. “I wanna keep kissing you.” You tugged on his shirt, hoping to get back to where you were and leaned down to kiss his neck.

“We can keep this on.” He whispered, gesturing to his phone, you both stared at each other for a moment. He leaned over to place his phone on the nightstand, propping it up against his water bottle, the camera pointing towards the bed. “Is this okay?”

You slowly nodded your head, “You’re not going to go around showing this to all your frat buddies, are you?”

“Hell no, this is only for me.” You knew he was telling you the truth, not only because you trusted him, but because you knew he wasn’t wasn’t the stereotypical frat boy—going around showing intimate photos of his girlfriend to everyone.

You leaned down again, going back to kissing him, his hands immediately finding their way back to your ass. He flipped you over, still being careful in the smaller bed. His hand traveled up your shirt, feeling every inch of your chest.

As he began to lift up your shirt you stopped him, remembering the camera pointed at the both of you. “Are we going to keep recording?” You smiled, looking up at him.

“We’ll do whatever you want, baby. Do you want to keep recording? Get your pretty face on camera, taking my cock?”

That was the first time you made a sex tape together. And it definitely wasn’t the last.

It was almost three times a week that you would film yourselves. There was something about it that was so exciting and sexy. It was a deeply intimate and vulnerable moment between you two and filming it to watch over and over again made it much more fun for some reason. It was very casual though, you weren't worried about getting certain shots, about anyone viewing it, it was just two University students filming themselves for fun.

Until it wasn’t.

You couldn’t remember who suggested you upload the videos to PornHub, but you do remember sitting on his bed in his frat house, watching the video slowly upload to the website.

“I can still cancel it, if you want to change your mind.” He reminded you.

But you didn’t cancel it, you both watched it upload with no regret in sight. You stared at the video for minutes, watching the view count. When the number went from 0 to 1 you both jumped. Someone just watched you two have sex.

Though it wasn’t your initial intention to make money from this, when you woke up to 100,000 views on your first video, after going to bed with under 50, and 20,000 subscribers, it wasn’t a conversation you could avoid. You were two broke students who needed extra money…and now you could get that by just having sex.

“I mean it’s not a bad idea…we’ve already made 100 dollars, for one video.” You said, pacing back and forth in your dorm room while Harry sat on your bed. “I guess I just worry about people finding out…our friends, our parents…that’s the only thing I worry about.”

Harry thought for a moment. “Fuck ‘em.” He shifted to the edge of the bed and grabbed your arm to pull you closer. “We’re making good money just off one video, we’re not showing our faces, it would be a wasted opportunity. Who cares what other people think, assuming they’d ever even find out.”

“I know……but we can’t tell anyone, if they find out, they find out, but let’s just try to keep it a secret as long as possible.”

Harry gave you a kiss, letting his lips linger on yours for a moment, until he moved to your jawbone, then your neck.

“Plus, I’ve been enjoying having these…..watching my pretty girl get fucked whenever I want…and you’re so good on camera, you’re a natural. You’re pretty moans…pushing your beautiful tits together, I want people to watch us, knowing I’m the only one who gets to fuck you.”

So you continued making videos. You still weren’t worried about the quality, it was the only art form where people were quite content with quantity over quality.

You still didn’t show your faces, only shooting videos from the neck down as he fucked you in missionary, setting the camera up behind you as you were riding him, and yet, people loved it.

You were getting millions of views per video with thousands of comments…people were actually taking the time to create an account and comment on a porn video for you guys. They loved how gentle Harry was with you while also being dominant, how he praised you, gave you the best aftercare, sometimes even stopping before his orgasm to cuddle with you and help you come down from yours. They loved your moans and how you knew how to be a perfect mix of sweet and sexy.

Comments (1.3k)

User497063848:

i’ve never commented on a video before but i created an account just to let you know how perfect this video is 👍

KeeponWorking0527

I need a relationship like this. You two are perfect.

cherryangel444

he is sooooo hot,,,she is very lucky

Keepcumming8742

→ HE is the lucky one she has such a perfect body

It wasn’t long until you felt like porn celebrities.

You were constantly being featured on the home page, people in your comments were begging for more videos minutes after you just posted…but most of all, they were dying to see your faces.

“I mean…it’s not a horrible idea, and a lot of people are demanding it.” Harry pointed out, as you debated whether or not to reveal your identities.

“But it’s also something we can’t take back…once our faces are out there, they’re out there forever.”

“That’s true…but is that such a bad thing? We'll make so much more money if we use our names and show our faces, that we'll be rich enough to just disappear if we end up regretting it.” Harry replied, knowing that pornstars who had a face to their content make way more money than anonymous performers. “We could buy a house in the Italian countryside as retired pornstars.”

You laughed as he outlined your future together. “This is something you’ve thought about a lot?”

“Of course I have, the only thing I’ve been worrying about since we started dating is how we’re going to comfortably spend the rest of our lives together, and we’re making a fuck ton of money…this is the only time that weight hasn’t been on my shoulders.”

You looked at him softly, not knowing he had been stressing over your future together. You would be lying if you said your life hadn’t improved once you became sex workers. Not having to worry about tuition, food, finances after graduating, you felt liberated.

“Let’s show our faces then.”

For your next video, not only did you show your faces but you upgraded everything. You went from iPhones to a professional camera and microphones, capturing the perfect shots and noises of each position.

You decided to film in Harry’s bedroom at his frat house while all his friends were at some party at a sorority. You could be as open and loud as you wanted. You swapped out Harry’s gray and navy blue sheets for some pretty florals that matched well with your lingerie.

Harry set up the camera on a tripod at the side of the bed as you waited on the bed, sitting on your heels. Once he hit the record he walked over to you, his hands immediately finding your hips and pulling you close.

“Tell me if you want to stop, or if you need a break, whatever you need.”

You nodded and smashed your lips onto his, eager to make your video. His hands roamed your entire body to highlight each feature for the camera.

“You look so sexy, I love this set.” He complimented you, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

“I figured I needed to wear my best for the special occasion.” You cheekily replied, pulling him down with you as you threw your bra aside and layed down on your back.

It wasn’t long until the camera was off the tripod and in Harry’s hand, filming you as he hovered above you, running his hands up your stomach and kneeding your breasts.

“So perfect.” He whispered, admiring your body.

His hands slowly fell to your panties, hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down. Teasing you, his fingers danced around your pussy, but never touching where you wanted him to.

“mmm, please Harry.” You whined, trying to roll your hips into his fingers. It felt odd to say his name on camera, which you had previously avoided doing.

“Okay, baby, I’ve got you.” He finally slid two fingers inside of you, causing you to let out a heavy breath and continue to roll your hips as he curled his fingers upward.

“So good, Harry.”

Your fingers found the waistband of his briefs in between your legs and pulled them down. As his cock sprang out you grabbed it and started to slowly jerk him off.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, looking up at him and the camera.

You both definitely played up your sexuality when you were filming, because you knew how porn worked, but what made people like you so much is that it was still natural and realistic, it never crossed the line of being theatrical.

“Do you need to ask, pretty baby?” You gave him a satisfactory smile and shifted to where he was sitting on the bed, still holding the camera, and you sat on your knees in front of him.

You grabbed his cock again, using your mouth and lips to lick and kiss along his entire shaft. Your eyes stayed on him, and the lense of the camera, most of the time, giving them a seductive look.

“Such a perfect cock sucker.” Harry ogled, switching between looking directly at you and through the camera.

Your mouth found his tip, preparing him and yourself before lowering your mouth down repeatedly. You moaned as you pleased his cock, another thing your viewers loved. From your very first videos they would comment how you seemed to love Harry’s cock by your repetitive hums and moans as it was in your mouth.

FranksPH1985

Listen to how much she moans while his dick is in her mouth, she looks so perfect.

lovelylovely<3

her moaning every time he praises her as she sucks him 😩 you are such a cute couple!! 💞

User29394682031

She sucks him off like it’s her favorite pastime. Lucky man.

You eventually found yourself back on the bed, laying down in the same position you were prior, laying down on your back. This time, you held the camera as he laid down in between your legs.

He peppered kisses on your inner thighs until his mouth found your clit, giving an initial lick before lapping and sucking at it. Your free hand grabbed his hair, gripping and pulling as he pleasured you.

“Oh, fuck, Harry, that’s so fucking good.” You cried, lifting your hips up and down, unable to stay still.

“Yeah? You like your pussy licked sweet baby?” You moaned in response. He lifted one of your legs, pushing it to your chest to get better access as his motions sped up.

“Need you to fuck me, please Harry.” You said after a couple minutes, knowing you wouldn’t last much longer, but wanted to cum on his cock.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

He got off the bed and grabbed the tripod, placing it on the other side of the bed, focused on you two.

“Flip over, let me see you on your knees.” He requested in a dominant tone, helping you flip over.

He dragged his cock up and down against you as a way to tease you, which worked. You whimpered out impatiently, causing him to lay a light slap to your ass.

“Be patient baby, you’ll get my cock eventually, no need to be a whiney girl.”

He finally slid himself into you and pushed his entire length in, causing you to slightly wince. His pace was very quick from the get go, causing a string of long moans to repetitively leave your mouth.

“Uh huh, fuck Harry…please keep going.”

He stayed quiet, focusing on slamming his hips into your ass. You struggled to hold yourself up as he pounced into you, both your arms and legs almost giving out at his fast pace.

Your stomach began to churn, a familiar warmness beginning to fill your stomach. Then suddenly, right as you were nearing your orgasm, his thrusts drastically stopped, causing your breathing to hitch. As he started to move again, his thrusts stayed slow, feeling like there were minutes in between each one.

Taking matters into your own hands, after silent whines didn’t work, you started to back yourself into him, hoping to get as close to your orgasm as you once were. Harry immediately stopped you, roughly grabbed your hips and pulled you into him, bottoming himself out in you.

You cried out as you felt his long cock reach the deepest it could go.

“Shhh, shhh, stop baby.” He told you, leaning down to wrap an arm around you and talk in your ear. “Are you going to be a good girl and let me fuck you how I want? Or do we need to stop?”

“I’ll be good…please, I was about to cum Harry.” You complied. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaning back up.

“I know baby, I know. We’ll get you there.”

After continuing working on an extremely slow pace from behind, he turned you around, so you were still on your hands and knees, but now facing him. Taking your chin in his hand, he looked down at you.

“Can you suck my dick again?” He kindly asked. You almost laughed, this was one of his ways he liked to edge you, roughly work on you until you were so close to climaxing, then take all the attention off you. You can’t say you didn’t mind it, it made the orgasm 10x, and your viewers sure didn’t mind.

“You’re so mean.” You sarcastically said, trying to hide your smile.

“Oh, I know, so mean.” He replied, pouting his lip.

You grabbed his cock again, giving it all your attention, knowing that would get him back to fucking you sooner. Your ass stayed in the air, almost as if you were trying to entice him. And it definitely worked as he leaned forward to move his cock farther into your throat and to grab a handful of your ass.

Once you couldn’t take it anymore, you kissed up his abdomen, coming and crawling toward him.

“Please Harry.” You begged, leaning in to kiss him with your pouty lip. “I’ve only asked nicely, and I’ve been good.”

“I know you have baby, you’ve been so good. Why don’t you lay down for me, hmm? On your back.”

You didn’t hesitate. You placed your back on bed and opened your legs as if there was no time to waste.

“Let’s grab you a pillow, make sure you’re comfy.” He grabbed a pillow and placed it under your head. Once you were finally situated, his thrusts went back to a steadily fast past.

Harry placed one of your legs on his shoulder, holding the other one at his side as he watched your breast bounce at the rhythm of his thrusts.

“So fucking pretty…I love watching you.” He admired you. You didn’t reply, letting your repeated moans speak for themselves.

“Harry, ‘m so close.” You cried out, arching your back.

“Let go baby, wanna feel you squeeze my cock.” He encouraged you.

You reached back, grabbing a fistful of your pillow and letting your mouth fall open in pleasure . Your stomach twisted again until you reached your peak, your orgasm erupting through you. It was almost like you blackedout from how powerful it was. You squeezed your eyes shut as all the sound around you was shut out.

Your breathing was heavy as you came down, like you had just run 5 miles. Harry’s pace slowed again, letting your now sensitive body rest.

“Need a break, baby?” This was the question he always asked after bringing you to an orgasm, knowing they could be quite powerful. It was something both you and your fans found endearing (and hot).

cycybaby1999

notice how he immediately checks in on her after she cums? 🥺 take notes men!

CherryLoved

The hottest thing a man can do is give you aftercare before he finishes. Y’all are so perf. 🫶

He pulled himself out of you, laid beside you and pulled you into his chest. He gently rubbed your back and rested his lips on your head.

“My legs are so shaky.” You noticed, smiling into his chest.

He chucked, looking down at your trembling limbs. “Poor girl,” He kissed your head and continued to help you come down. You felt your eyes become heavy, Harry’s now steady heart putting you to sleep. “All done?” He questioned, still rubbing your back.

“No, no, I wanted you to cum on my face.” He chuckled at your blatant vulgarity. “I thought it would be a good shot for our face reveal.”

You kneeled back down on the floor as Harry grabbed the camera again. You spit in your hand and began rubbing his shaft, using a mix of your spit and cum to get him off. The camera picked up Harry’s heavy, now unsteady, breathing as his orgasm approached.

He freed one of his hands and held the back of your hair before cumming all over your face. He took a moment to let the camera capture the white fluid that laid on your lips, cheek, and forehead.

After Harry gave you his sweet aftercare and stopped filming, you both cleaned up before getting back into his bed.

“That was so perfect, baby.” He complimented you as you rested against his chest, wearing one of his shirts and his sweatpants. “You still want to upload it?” He asked, clarifying once again.

“Of course, I think people will really like it…At least I did.”

Three days later, the video was uploaded and quickly became your highest viewed video, and the comments overwhelmingly positive.

Finally doing a face reveal!!! | HARRY & Y/N

CherryLoved

OMG??? YOU GUYS ARE WAY HOTTER THAN I IMAGINED?!?!

User29394682031

Never thought I’d see this day. Very hot.

lovelylovely<3

you guys are sooooo cute 😩😩😩 im going to love watching you even more now!!!

cycybaby1999

damn girl, you are so gorg !!!

FranksPH1985

Big day for horny people.

You would open your computer every morning and read all the wonderful comments you were getting, which motivated you to make more and more videos.

“This is crazy…we’re going to become sex fiends after this.” You joked as you sat in his bed.

“So not much will change.” He joked back.

As you continued to read through each comment, your phone dinged from the nightstand. It was a text from your roommate.

Laila

Are you and Harry pornstars?

Tag List!

@mema10 @lizsogolden @harrrrystylesslut @tulips4harry @cloudyluun

[badbtssmut]

Reckless and sweet

What if you are equally in love with two guys and really can’t choose? You date them both. But when Taehyung and Jungkook find out about you playing them, they decide to dick you down together, you were the one greedily taking two dicks anyway, so what’s the problem?

Contains: attempt at porn with plot, implication that fortune tellers don’t work, reader will get caught so prepare for some feelings of anxiety, fear, etc, the guys tease reader when she’s caught, reader is dating them both without them knowing, text AU mixed with story writing, reader is a cute coquette girly, some angst, reader will have sex with both guys

Smut JK: Missionary, pussy licking and fingering, his face in her pussy

Smut Tae: riding, boobplay, from behind

Smut both: taking turns, blowjobs, missionary, reader is told she has a slutty face, dirty talk, they both cum in her, boobplay

Admin note: make sure to open the images, tumblr might crop some of the convos

“What brings you here, dear?”

"I can't choose between two guys. I… need help."

The fortune teller nodded knowingly, her fingers shuffling the tarot cards. "The cards will guide us," she said, spreading them out in a maze like pattern. "Let us see what the future holds for your heart."

You watched the fortune teller as she turned over the cards, one by one, the flickering lantern light illuminating each card. "There it is.” She tapped the card. “This card stands for “soulmate” and in combination with this card, it leads to…” Her hand inched closer to the two photos you had laid out. "I see, I see. This card shows that this young man is the one for you." She tapped on the photo. "The cards don't lie."

"Oh…” You slumped into your chair, a little disappointed.

“You seem disappointed, were you hoping for the other man?”

“No, that’s… not it. It’s nothing.”

Why tell her that this is your fifth attempt today to consult a fortune teller? And that everyone gave you a different story.

You stood up and paid her for her service. "Thank you for your help, Madam. I will take your words into consideration."

You weren’t a bad person, really. You didn't seek Taehyung and Jungkook out with the intention to cheat on them; all you desired was an unbiased answer, just a little something to ease your indecisiveness and help you decide. But… the results of all the tarot readings were inconclusive.

Your best friend told you to pick already and not lead them on any longer.

But that was easier said than done.

Your best friend wouldn’t understand, she isn’t you, she doesn’t experience the guys the same way you do— you were convinced if she had the same predicament that she would do the same thing you did.

But she didn’t have the same predicament, she had her soulmate already. So, you wouldn’t expect her to understand.

You stared at the phone in your hand, your thumb hovering over the texting app that will connect you to either Taehyung or Jungkook.

Which would it be?

You let out a sigh, putting the phone down.

Why did this have to be so difficult? You couldn’t recall the last time you had to make such a damned difficult decision.

Then, the doorbell rang, ripping you out of your focus. You got up and headed for the door, and once you opened the door, you were met by the delivery driver.

"Good evening, Miss. I have a package for you."

"Thank you.” You accepted the package and closed the door. You looked at the package and noted that the sender was Kim Taehyung.

“Gosh, he’s so sweet.” You smiled. He knew that you had been feeling blue lately and must’ve decided that he wanted to cheer you up a bit.

But if he knew the reason for why you were down, he would’ve probably smashed and broken this present in a thousand pieces.

You opened the package, carefully, not wanting to rip the packaging, and took out the present inside.

It didn’t take long for you and Jungkook to retreat to the bedroom after you arrived at his place, and you were soon lying naked on his bed, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy, his fingers buried deep inside you. Your legs shook with anticipation, a soft moan slipping from your lips as your hands tangled in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy.

“I love how wet you get for me. All soaked and ready to be fucked," Jungkook flicked your clit with his tongue, before he moved away and started to pump his errection. His fingers were still inside of you, his fingers curling and hitting that sensitive spot deep within.

"O-oh!” Your body curved along with his movements.

“Yeah? That’s a nice spot, hm? Like it right there, feels good there?”

You could only nod, your voice trapped in your throat.

Jungkook continued to finger you, his thumb circling your clit, and you felt your orgasm build up. However, before you could hit your climax, Jungkook pulled away, and replaced his fingers with something much better.

He slowly thrust into you, filling you up, and his head dropped into the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. "Ah, fuck."

You were a moaning mess underneath him, your eyes closing as the pleasure intensified. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. The both of you didn’t speak; simply enjoying each other's bodies connecting.

Jungkook's thrusts increased in speed and power and you could feel the familiar coil tighten again, your body arching as you cried out.

"Close, close…” You panted.

"Come, baby. Let it all out," he whispered in your ear, leaving kisses on your neck.

That was all you needed, and your orgasm came crashing down, a loud moan slipping from your lips.

Jungkook wasn’t far behind, riding out your waves of orgasm until he, too, came.

After the sex, Jungkook went to the kitchen to prepare dinner and you stayed in bed for a few minutes, and decided to check your phone for any notifications, and you saw a message from your best friend.

You joined Jungkook in the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island as you watched him cook. His broad shoulders and toned back faced you, and he was only wearing his joggers which he put on after the sex.

It was a nice distraction from the earlier chat you had with Ara. Part of you thought that you went too far, but another part of you felt like it was justified to respond the way that you did. She was constantly pushing you to choose already, but she failed to realize just how difficult it was for you to choose. Both men were absolutely perfect and there was zero fault in them… and that was the whole problem. You had waited for one of them to mess up; to start an argument with you, tell you they were an ex felon, kick a puppy, yell at a service worker, shove an old lady… ANYTHING. But their faults never came, not once have they slipped up and made you think that you wanted to break up with them.

Ara's words played over and over again in your mind.

You are doing this to protect both men's hearts. Yes, that's it.

“Babe?” Jungkook's voice interrupted your thoughts, and you realized that you were staring at the table. He had set the plate in front of you and sat opposite of you, but he noticed you neither acknowledged the food or him. “You okay?”

You blinked and looked up, seeing the concerned look on his face. You managed a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry… I just was thinking of something.”

Jungkook was smart enough to know that something was bothering you, so he didn’t let go, and pressed; “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, looking down at your food, pushing the noodles around with the chopsticks.

Jungkook reached across the table and held your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Just... tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help."

You looked up at him. Your expression softened, and you sighed, deciding that you needed to tell him what was going on.

"Well..." You started, your heart pounding against your chest. “I was speaking with my best friend and…” You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell him the truth. You were really going to do this, weren’t you? It felt somewhat… relieving to do this. No more sneaking, no more having two accounts, no lying or cheating anymore.

“She disapproves of our relationship because we are moving too fast.”

You couldn’t do it.

You were such a coward.

“Oh, I am sorry babe, what do you think? Are we moving too fast? I mean, we are in a good place right now, right?” Jungkook asked.

You felt a little bad for making him worry, so you shook your head and gave him a smile.

"We are in a good place. Don't worry about it, she's just worried and doesn't know you."

"Should I meet her?” Jungkook asked.

“Meet who?”

“Your friend, silly.”

Oh boy. If he was meeting her, there was no telling what could happen. What if Ara ran her mouth? What if she told him everything? What if she messed up? No… it was too risky.

“She’s… an exchange student abroad, but if she ever visits home, I’ll let you know, and we can meet up. How about that?"

The lies just kept piling up…

“I missed you.” You murmured against his lips.

“I missed you too.” Taehyung deepened the kiss, his hands slipping underneath your shirt. His touch made your skin tingle and your stomach flutter, his hands were warm and big and his fingers spread over your back, pressing you closer against his chest.

“Did you?” You asked, between kisses.

Taehyung smiled, his tongue caressing your lips, before it slipped into your mouth. You let out a moan, your hands running up his toned arms.

His hands trailed further up, cupping your breasts and you gasped, breaking the kiss, but he didn't give you time to breathe, his mouth capturing yours again. His tongue was dancing with yours and you were left breathless when he eventually broke the kiss, his hands kneading your breasts.

“Mhm, I did. A lot. You are always on my mind. When I wake up, when I go to sleep, during work, when I am working out, in the shower, even when I eat, you are always on my mind, y/n"

His confession made your heart explode, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks, you didn’t expect that answer.

Taehyung took your hand and placed it on his groin. "See what you do to me, hm?" He said with a smile.

Soon, you were riding his cock, his errection peeking through the open gap in his pants, and your panties dangled onto your ankles as you rode him. His hips on your waist and he was guiding your body, making you move the way he wanted.

"I love it when you fuck yourself on my cock," he grunted. “Keep going, love.”

And that you did, until you physically weren’t able to anymore, and Taehyung took over, laying you down onto the bed, and you laid on your stomach, your hips propped up with a pillow as he started to fuck you from behind.

You couldn’t help the cries escaping your mouth, as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with precision. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets, your face buried into the mattress.

His hands were on your waist, holding you steady as he fucked you senseless, and you could hear his heavy breathing. Then, one last pump, and he came first, letting out a deep groan.

He slowed down for a moment, before riding out his orgasm in you, until you came. Your orgasm came crashing down on you, and you whimpered and cried around his cock, and as you laid there trembling, you asked yourself; how were you ever supposed to choose between them?

It didn’t matter.

You didn't want to choose between them.

You couldn’t choose between them.

And like that, time passed by. The two of them showered you with gifts, attention, love, and affection nonstop, every day. You were constantly on the fence, debating whether you should stop or not… but it all just felt too good, you couldn’t imagine life without either of them.

The snow crunched underneath your feet, the cold air brushing against your skin as you walked through the snow covered park, and it was getting colder by the minute. Your hands were shoved into the pockets of your coat to keep you warm.

“Are you cold?” Taehyung asked, at which you nodded. He took your hands and held them. “Do you want to go in the Gondola lift?” He nodded his head in the direction of the ski lifts, and you glanced over.

“Yes, that looks fun, let’s!” You followed him, holding his hand. You stood in the queue for a few minutes, wrapping your arms around Taehyung and resting your head against his chest as you snuggled up to him.

Soon, it was your turn and Taehyung held the door open and you scooted right next to the window, glancing out. The view wasn’t that noteworthy yet but you were sure that would change soon.

“There, now we are all together. The three of us."

Huh? You turned your head and looked at him. Taehyung stepped in, and sat next to you, and you noticed the other man standing in the doorway.

Jungkook.

A pang of happiness temporarily shot through your chest, you had missed him and you loved seeing him again, but then a realization dawned on you; they knew about each other.

And that realization quickly morphed into fear, and your heart began to pound.

You were caught.

You jumped up and tried to make a run for the door, but Taehyung grabbed your wrist and pulled you down, forcing you back down on the bench. “You’re staying right here.”

“N-no, I want to go, no!”

Your gaze flickered back and forth between them, and you felt like a trapped animal, your body frozen as your mind ran wild.

Jungkook locked the door behind him and sat down to your left, while Taehyung sat on your right; you were sandwiched in between them.

No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden, babe? Usually you are so talkative, aren’t you?" Jungkook mocked.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you lowered your gaze, ashamed. Afraid to look them in the eyes.

“Don’t you like our surprise? We prepared it all for you, love.” Taehyung placed a hand on the back of your neck, his touch causing you to flinch, and he forced you to look at him. “I thought you wanted us both, and now that we are here, you refuse to talk to us? Is that how it is?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say, what to do. "Answer him," Jungkook's tone was icy, and your body shook, you were petrified, unsure of what they would do to you. And just like that, you kept your gaze on your lap, and you managed to not say a word all the way back to the end point of the ski lift ride. At the end of the ride, Jungkook and Taehyung guided you back to the cabin, where things between the three of you would change forever.

“If you want two cocks so bad, then fucking take them both.”

You were on your knees, in between the two of them, as they took turns thrusting their dicks into your mouth, one after the other. Their moans filled the room, along with the occasional gagging sound that you made.

Your body was in overdrive; it was as if your brain couldn’t comprehend that your two favorite men in the world were face fucking you both right now.

You didn’t expect it but… you were soaking wet.

“That’s it, show Taehyung how we always do it when he’s not around, don’t be shy baby.”

Taehyung pulled his cock out, and now Jungkook was the one in your mouth. You drooled over his cock, and his hand rested on the back of your head, pushing himself further inside, his errection hitting the back of your throat.

Taehyung took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, and you started to rub him off as you continued to suck Jungkook off. The two men groaned as they hovered over you, and you didn’t think you could hold it any longer.

“I’m wet, really wet, need cock, please.”

At that, Taehyung pulled you onto your feet and picked you up, before laying you down on the bed.

“Wet? Show us then, babe.” Taehyung cooed, pulling your clothes off you, and now Jungkook was in the room as well. “Spread those legs, show us how wet you really are. Do you need cock?"

"Yes, yes, please!" You spread your legs wide, exposing yourself to them, and having both of their eyes set on your pussy made you even wetter.

"This pussy is so greedy, and so fucking needy, it's dripping. Look at that.” Taehyung’s finger lingered down your folds, teasing your entrance. “So wet for us.”

Jungkook got onto the bed, deciding he’d be the first to give you what you want; cock. He hovered above you and slipped his cock in, and you moaned as his length filled you up. You wrapped your arms around him, as he thrust in and out.

This must be a dream.

Taehyung placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face to the side, his hardened cock staring right back at you, and you opened your mouth, inviting him in.

Both men fucked you, and your mind was completely blank.

Taehyung chuckled. “Damn, that pussy really is wet huh, those sounds are something else."

You couldn’t reply, as your mouth was stuffed with his cock, but you knew exactly what he meant, the lewd sounds your pussy was making was embarrassing, but also turned you on more and more. Taehyung’s hands trailed to your chest, kneading your tits. “You love it, don’t you? When we both fuck you. That slutty face tells me everything I need to know, and I bet this greedy pussy is going to come all over his cock soon, won’t it?" He pulled out his cock out of your mouth.

“Yes.. love it.” You tilted your head back, your back arching as Jungkook started hitting you in a good spot. “O-oh…”

Taehyung moved next to Jungkook and his tip teased against your swollen clit, the head rubbing against it, and that nearly sent you over the edge.

“A-ah!” You gripped onto the sheets, as the knot in your lower belly tightened, and your body tensed up, your pussy walls clenching around Jungkook’s cock.

“That’s the spot?” Jungkook teased, gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place as he picked up the pace.

“That does seem to be the spot, look at her face, she loves that spot.” Taehyung started to smack your clit with his cock, and that sent you over the edge, the knot in your stomach exploding, and you came all over Jungkook's cock, a loud cry escaping your mouth. As you came, your pussy milked his cock, hard, and he couldn’t last much longer, his cum shooting deep inside of you, Jungkook rocked his hips back and forth and only stopped when he was sure that every seed was spilled inside of you.

Jungkook pulled out, making way for Taehyung, who eagerly lined his cock up to your entrance. Jungkook came to lay down next to you, pressing his lips against yours as Taehyung pushed every inch into you, filling you up again.

"That's it, take that cock, love, Jungkook really warmed up that pussy for me, hm? It's squeezing my cock, so tight."

Taehyung fucked you with fast and deep strokes, his cock sliding in and out with ease as you were soaking wet, drenching the sheets underneath you. Jungkook started to kiss your tits instead of your lips, his tongue swirling around your nipples.

Your body was completely overwhelmed by pleasure, your head thrown back, and your mouth hanging open, your cries filling the room. You felt Taehyung grab your leg and push it over his shoulder, and pull you closer, his cock hitting deeper and faster, and you didn't know how much longer you'd last.

"Please, more, don't stop, don't stop." You begged, your breathing becoming faster.

Jungkook kissed your neck, "Such a greedy pussy, and it loves being fucked, doesn't it?" He grabbed your hand, holding it as you gripped onto it.

"Mhm, it loves it." You whispered, glancing at both men. Oh they were so perfect, they were everything you ever dreamed of, and more.

"Tell him you love it, baby." Jungkook encouraged.

"L-love it, so much, ah, ah…” You whimpered as Taehyung picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down the bed, your tits bouncing all over the place, and it was all too much. You reached your high, another orgasm rushing through your body, and you cried as your pussy clenched around his cock.

"Yes, yes, that’s it…” Taehyung grunted, his pace now slow and deep, wanting to feel your pussy massage his cock and then he finally released himself, his hot seeds filling you up, and he rode out his orgasm, until there was nothing left to give.

“Oh…” You whimpered, turning to your side, completely exhausted, closing your eyes for a moment.

In the end, you didn’t have to choose.