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mmmfanfiction · 1 month ago
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I want ALL of them
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alchemiclee · 1 year ago
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casual hu tao cosplay test 🤩👻
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littlelamy · 12 days ago
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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.”
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chlorinecake · 2 months ago
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ִ ۫ 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 | 𝐋.𝐌𝐇
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⭑ 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 ^^
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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...
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⋆♱✮ 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
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@d-dilemma @mrsjohnnysuh
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witchywithwhiskey · 2 months ago
Text
an afternoon of pumpkin picking
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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!!
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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.
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thanks for reading!! reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡♡♡
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4unnyr0se · 5 months ago
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❥ moth to a flame | toru oikawa
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warnings: timeskip! argentina oikawa, fem! reader, ushijimas ex! reader, alcohol consumption, recording, fingering, making out, HEAVY flirtiny/dirty talk, hickeys, rough sex, multiple orgasms, ushijima hate, exhibitionism, degradation, oikawa is a bitch ass motherfucker
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 5.1k
a/n: based off of this post right here, i hope i did it justice. also sorry to all the ushijima girlies out there
❥ song: moth to a flame - the weekend
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Oikawa really fucking hated Ushjima. He hated how good he was. He hated how he could easily get his ass handed to him on a silver fucking platter. Not that he would ever admit that, of course. The Great King had too much pride ever actually to acknowledge that someone was better than him at volleyball. He knew that the ace was secretly talking behind his back, telling everybody that it was such a shame that Oikawa never went to Shirtatorizawa. Fucking dick, what the hell did he know? He had a dumb face. Ushijima was only useful for hitting balls into the opposing team's court. It’s no wonder he got drafted onto the Alders, no universities would accept him. Now, did Oikawa actually have any proof that Ushijima was dumb? Well, not exactly. But he didn’t need proof, Oikawa knew that already. He fucking hated Wakatoshi Ushijima and anyone that associated with him, including the ace’s pretty little girlfriend.
You were too pretty to be Ushijima’s girlfriend, way too pretty. There was no way someone like you would ever willingly be seen with him, right? He was probably blackmailing you into going out with him and posing for Volleyball Monthly; that’s how Oikawa found out about your little relationship. “Shiratorizawa’s Power Couple” the magazine title proudly boasted, using a photo of you standing a little too close to Ushijima for Oikawa’s liking. The only reason you were even featured was because you were the captain of Shiratorizawa’s cheer squad. Probably the only fucking good thing to come out of that school was you. You were wasted on Ushijima, no matter how well he could treat you. Oikawa was furious; Ushijima had a cute girlfriend, but he didn’t. It didn’t make any sense, right? Oikawa could have any girl he wanted, yet he chose you, someone he couldn’t have. What a mind-fuck that was. 
Ushijima kept dating you after high school, much to Oikawa’s annoyance. Rumors were circulating that you would marry and give birth to the next great generation of volleyball, but Oikawa stopped caring at that point. He started playing for Argentina and decided (begrudgingly) that it was for the best that he stopped obsessing over that one Shiratorizawa cheerleader. That perfect, pretty, popular, and so fucking sexy cheerleader. Oikawa was content with his new life in Argentina, especially knowing he would never have to see you or Ushijima again. Boy, was he wrong. 
The beach was sunny that day, and it was full of people doing whatever they wanted: making out, poorly playing volleyball, making sandcastles, whatever they wanted. Oikawa considered joining in on an amateur volleyball match, but he shrugged it off. They would probably recognize him, and while he enjoyed his fame, he preferred his female fans to his male ones. He instead opted to do what he did best: lie there and look pretty. His muscles rippled in the bronzing sunlight as he observed how the waves of the ocean danced, how the children laughed, and how the seagulls terrorized innocent picnic-havers. It was the best thing ever…until he got bored and wanted a drink. Something light, something with lime and coconut. He didn’t care what as long as it had those two things. 
The bar was unusually empty, which was great. His fame got him a lot of special treatment, but cutting the line at the beach bar was certainly different from them. He gave the bartender his order and gave him the pesos, turning his back to the employee as his drink got mixed. Oikawa zoned out for the better part of it, not thinking of much until he was snapped out of his thoughts by a feminine voice. 
“Virgin margarita, please,” you spoke so sweetly like honey was falling from your lips. Oikawa snapped his head in your direction, and his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. You, Wakatoshi Ushijima’s girlfriend, were standing a few feet away from him, in the cutest little black bikini he had ever seen. He choked on his saliva, pretending to brush it off as a cough. Fuck, did you notice him? There was no way you didn’t. Whatever, there’s no turning back now. Oikawa plastered his signature smirk onto his handsome features, staring at you through his designer sunglasses.
“Well, if it isn’t Ushijima’s illustrious girlfriend. What brings you to Argentina? Let me guess, he sent you to sign me to the Alders?” his voice was smug, annoyingly smug. 
You groaned and took off your sunglasses, nestling them atop your head. “Okay, you’re so wrong on so many levels,” you placed your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow. “First of all, I’m not his girlfriend anymore. I broke up with Wakatoshi after he got drafted to the Alders, which probably answers your second question.” the ghost of a smirk dusted your lips. 
“Oh,” Oikawa was momentarily silenced. “But you’re still on a first-name basis?”
“And is that any of your business?”
“Wow, since when was Shiratorizawa’s princess so fucking bitchy? I thought you were Snow White or something,” he scoffed, stepping towards you with his arms crossed. 
“And you’re just as pretentious as people say you are,” you snickered. “For your information, Oikawa, I can act however I want. I broke up with his sorry ass, and I’m not telling you why. God, I can’t believe we’re at the same beach.”
Shit, he liked how you were talking to him. No one had put him down like that long ago, not since Iwaizumi. It was nice…did he like it when girls were mean to him instead of worshipping the ground he walked on?
“Hey, don’t get pissy with me, princess. It’s not my fault you just happen to go to the beach near where I live,” Oikawa scoffed. “What are you even doing in Argentina anyway? What, did university not work out for you back in Miyagi.”
You rolled your eyes. “For your information, asshole, I got into every university I applied to. I just…” you signed, rubbing your temple. “I just needed some time away from that place. Everything reminds me of Wakatoshi. It was just better for me to get away for a while.”
The bartender coughed awkwardly, holding your drinks. You both took them as the employee turned back around, visibly uncomfortable. Oikawa took a sip of the drink, nodding in approval. “So, I take it finding me on this beach wasn’t the most relaxing thing?”
“I thought you were going to be nice to me, but I guess I was wrong since you thought I was still with Wakatoshi,” you sipped your drink, the cool liquid drooling down your chin and onto your breasts. “But…I guess I can forgive you. After all, neither of us went to nationals since Karasuno got number nine and ten, right?” 
Oikawa chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Fucking Tobio.”
“You know he’s on the Alders as well, right?”
“What? Oh, fucking of course he is,” Oikawa scoffed, placing his drink down at the bar. He looked at your form again, drinking in each curve that your bikini did such a poor job of hiding. Did you wear that thing on purpose to find someone here to fuck? Maybe Ushijima never fucked you right. Maybe he never made you cum. Maybe that’s why you dumped his sorry ass because he was a terrible lover. Oh, wouldn’t that just be a fucking treat?
“So,” Oikawa stared at the ground. “Do you wanna head back to my apartment? It’s within walking distance. Plus, I have drinks that aren’t stupidly overpriced,” he shot the bartender a dirty look. “No offense.”
You thought for a moment, your perfectly manicured finger tapping on your bottom lip. “Sure, that could be fun. Besides,” you leaned forward, exposing your cleavage to the setter. “If Wakatoshi heard about that, he would be so fucking pissed. So why not, hm?”
Holy shit. You were perfect. “Wow,” Oikawa was speechless, which was a rare fucking treat. “And here I thought you were all sweet and innocent,” he casually snaked his arm around your waist, shamelessly feeling your supple skin. “I guess I was wrong.”
“You’re lucky we hate the same person, or else I would have broken your arm off by now,” you snicker, allowing his hand to feel up and down your waist. “Now, where’s your apartment? Let me guess,” you pointed to an expensive-looking building. “Penthouse suite on the top floor right over there?”
“How the hell did you know that?” he raised an eyebrow in suspicion. 
You scoffed, walking in tune with Oikawa. “I mean, it’s painfully obvious. That’s the only apartment complex within comfortable walking distance, and knowing your ego, you probably chose the apartment on the top floor because you think you’re entitled to it, somehow,” you smirked, staring into his milky brown eyes. “Well? How right am I?’
Oikawa frowned, pouting like a baby. “...pretty right…” he mumbled.
“What? I didn’t catch that?” you pretended to cup your ear.
“I said you’re right. Jeez, since when were you this cocky?” he grumbled, pulling you closer to his muscular form. He was ripped, more ripped than he was in the sports magazines from high school. His chest was chiseled, and his shoulders were broad as if he had been sculpted by the gods themselves. You would never admit this to him (not sober, at least), but Oikawa was hot as fuck, even though he was a major brat. 
“I’ve always been this cocky, just not in public,” you looked up at the door of the penthouse apartment complex, the doorknobs brandishing an expensive golden sheen. “Wow, these sure are different than the Miyagi apartments,” you mumbled, rubbing on your arm. Oddly enough, you felt out of place, like you didn’t fit the right tax bracket to be allowed here.
“Well, cutie, I am a professional athlete. I make more than the entire staff does combined,” he bragged, waving to the desk attendant, who had the most annoyed look on her face. Maybe she knew what a dick Oikawa was as well. 
You bit down on your bottom lip, tapping your sandalled shoe against the cool tiling of the lobby. Did he just call you a cutie? You shouldn’t take it personally. He probably did that with every other girl he found attractive. Wait, does that mean he found you attractive? Oh god, did you actually like being flirted with by Toru Oikawa? You slapped your hands over your cheeks, attempting to hide the ever-blooming red blush.
“Are you okay? You look red,” he thought for a second, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Is Shiratorizawa’s Princess blushing?” he leaned forward, smirking as the elevator doors closed. His large and calloused hands pressed against either side of your head, trapping you between the wall and his shirtless frame.
“Shut up!” you slapped him across his cheek, leaving a stinging imprint on his flawless skin. He gasped, massaging his cheek. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”
“I haven’t even said anything perverted yet! No one hits me, no one!” he wined, uncaging you from the elevator wall. “You’re feisty,” he mumbled under his breath, something you couldn’t hear.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the elevator door dinged. You both left the elevator and walked to his apartment in silence, your hands massaging your arms as the cold air of the upper floor set in. Rich people have excellent air conditioning. 
“This is it,” Oikawa jiggled his key into the lock, pulling open the mahogany door. “Ladies first,” he winked, making you scoff as you entered the vast apartment. 
“Holy-” your words died on your lips as you took in Oikawa’s living space. How perfect and elegant it was. It was massive, boasting a designer kitchen with beautiful granite countertops and three ovens. Who the hell needs three ovens? “This place is huge! Damn, I forgot how much they pay professional athletes!” 
Oikawa chuckled at your childlike marveling, or perhaps it was envy? Either way, he could get used to you gawking over his wealth. “I know, I know. I’m fucking fantastic,” he strode over to the bar cart, mixing some peach juice and vodka. “I know this isn’t the most manly drink, but beer is so gross. Don’t you agree?” he handed you a glass, not even trying to hide the fact that he was staring at your tits.
“Oh, totally. Beer is gross,” you took a sip of the drink, smiling at the peach juice hit your tongue. “Oh damn, this is good. Where did you get this?”
“I’m not telling. You could buy out my entire supply!” Oikawa laughed, taking another sip of his beverage. “So,” he leaned against his kitchen counter, staring into your eyes with his half-lidded ones. “What will it take for me to learn why you dumped Ushijima, hm?” his voice was a purr, like a siren trying to lure you into the sea.
You rolled your eyes and sat down on the couch, admiring the tasteful throw pillows he had. “Well, if it gets you to shut up, I’ll tell you,” you patted the seat right next to your own. “You’re lucky I have vodka in me, or else I’d be really bitchy right about now.”
“Who’s saying you aren’t being bitchy?”
You shot him a glare. “Do you wanna know my breakup story or not?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes and sat next to you, purposefully spreading his muscular thighs. Fuck, he was sexy as hell. “Well? Let’s hear the story, cutie.”
“Okay,” you took a deep breath, locking your eyes on your pedicured feet. “We started dating because one of his teammates said we would look good together. Tendou, I think his name was. He asked me out, but it wasn’t very romantic. He was stoic, unfeeling. I guess he’s always been like that,” you paused, licking your bottom lip. “He was a good boyfriend for the most part, I guess. He was kind, and he supported me in anything I did. It’s just…volleyball was his top priority, not me. And don’t get me wrong, I loved cheerleading. Wakatoshi prioritized sports over his relationship, so I dumped him once he was signed to the Alders.” you looked up at Oikawa, a soft smile gracing your lips. “I’m happy I dumped his sorry ass.”
“Wow,” Oikawa mumbled, setting his drink on the coffee table. “I’m sorry he treated you like that. I always knew he was a piece of shit, and now I have the proof,” he smacked his lips together, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “C’mere, I gotta ask you something else.”
“Do we have to be this close for you to ask me a question?” you raised an eyebrow, secretly enjoying the intimacy.
“Yes,” Oikawa immediately responded. “Answer me this,” his voice dropped to a deep octave, goosebumps covering your arms. “Did he ever make you cum, or did you have to fake it every time?”
Your breath hitched in your throat, a blush dusting your cheeks. “Well, technically, no, he didn’t make me cum,” you whispered, knowing damn well that Oikawa had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
“I fucking knew it,” he pulled you impossibly closer, pulling your lip down with his thumb. “Poor little girl, hm? You’re big, strong boyfriend never gave you an orgasm. Did he even know where the clit is?”
You shook your head. “No, I had to show it to him, and he still has never found it.”
“Oh, that’s pathetic. And adorable. To think,” his lips trailed upwards to the cartilage of your ear, nibbling on it. “That a pretty thing like yourself had a boyfriend that wouldn’t give her what she wanted…that’s just tragic, don’t you think so?”
You looked at him, your eyes ablaze. “I guess so. What, did you wanna do something about that?” your hands slid up and down his thigh, dangerously close to his hardening cock. 
“I think I will,” without any warning, he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder, slapping you on the ass. You squeaked and were thrown onto his bed, the crisp cotton sheets welcoming your burning skin. Oikawa crawled on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head. “I have an idea, something that will piss Ushijima off. That’s what we both want, isn’t it?” he planted a daring kiss on your neck, the aroma of your tropical perfume filling his nostrils. “I know you wanna see him angry, don’t you, cutie?”
Fuck, his words landed right at your core. You squeezed your legs shut, tilting your head to the side so he could plant more of his blazing kisses on your delicate skin. “Mhm, I wanna see him get so mad he does something he’ll regret,” you purr, gasping as Oikawa sank his canines into you. A soft moan fell from your lips, only encouraging him to leave more delicious bruises. He stopped his ministrations, licking his way up to your ear. “I wanna film me fucking your brains out,” his voice was a low rumble, practically dripping with want. “I wanna send him pictures of you covered in my fucking cum with your tits covered in hickeys. That’ll show him, right?” he shamelessly palmed your breast, wanting to tear that slutty bikini off your perfect body.
“Fuck, Oikawa,” you moaned, breaking free from his grasp. “If you’re gonna do that,” you sat on the bed. “We have to be equals in this, or he’ll think you’re fucking me without consent.”
“What? So, no bondage or anything?” he pouted. “Well, I guess that’s fair,” his milky eyes darted to one of his dresser drawers. “I…I have a professional camera in there, as well as a tripod. Don’t fucking ask why I have those, okay? If we’re gonna film a little something for your ex-boyfriend,” he playfully nipped at your ear. “We’re gonna do it right.”
“Sounds like a plan,” you chuckled, swatting his hands away as he fumbled with the string of your bikini top. “Nope, you have to undress me on camera. That’ll really piss him off.”
Oikawa smirked, setting up the tripod quickly. How many times did he use that thing? “You sure know him well, don’t you, cutie?” he hit the record button, crawling above you again. The camera was positioned to have the side-view of whatever you two decided to participate in. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the money shot with my phone,” he snickered, hovering his lips above yours. “Now, cutie, do you wanna make a movie with me?”
“Fuck yes,” and his lips were upon yours, ravaging them like he had drank a love potion. They moved in sync with your own, relishing in the mango-flavored chapstick you wore. He kissed you like he owned you from the second he saw you in that slutty bikini. The way his teeth clashed against yours was animalistic in his fight to be dominant, not even asking for entry before shoving his tongue inside your mouth. Your wet muscles danced, pulling moan after moan out of your lungs before he pulled away abruptly, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. 
“Gotta fucking catch my breath,” he chuckled. “You kiss like a fucking whore.”
“I bite like one, too,” you smirked, rolling over to straddle Oikawa’s waist. He gasped in confusion before quickly being silenced, the sensation of you harshly sucking on his muscular neck making him whimper. You chuckled, grinding yourself onto his pelvis, your most intimate parts being covered by thin pieces of fabric.
“Fuck, cutie,” Oikawa’s hands squeezed your hips, rolling the fat between his taped fingers. He bucked his hips upwards, making you yelp. “Take off that fucking top now,” he growled, fisting the sheets beneath him impatiently.
You giggled and reached behind your back, undoing the bikini knot teasingly slow. Oikawa knew what you were doing. He’d seen it a million times by now. Usually, he wouldn’t mind. It was just another beach slut taking her time, trying to draw out their experience with the great Toru Oikawa. But this time was different. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted you creaming on his cock the way Ushijima never made you. Besides, there would be a second time. And a third, and a fourth.
His hand cracked against your ass. “Don’t fucking tease me, cutie,” his voice rasped, his hands hungrily grasping onto your tits. “Fucking take this off, or I’ll rip it off of you. Show me those tits, don’t get all shy on me now.”
You squeak, your clit pulsating at the contact. “Fine, whatever you want, baby,” you threw your bikini top across the room, letting your breasts be exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. Oikawa groaned, rolling over so he was on top once more. His mouth found your breast, sucking at the pillowy flesh while his hands rolled over your pert nipple, alternating between each breast. He sucked on your areloas, making sure not to be gentle. He only got more confident with each slutty moan he ripped from your lips, relishing in the incredibly high ones he received when he bit down on your nipple. Your chest was littered with tiny purple circles and covered in his saliva, the desire in your belly practically bubbling over. His cock was painfully hard, pressing against your inner thigh. You swore you could hear it throbbing, begging to fuck your cunt. 
“Oikawa!” you whimpered, grabbing his ashy brown hair and forcefully pulling him away from your chest. “I-I think you marked me enough, right? C’mon,” your hand guided his into your bikini bottom, sighing as his thumb finally found your desperate clit. “I’m so wet down here for you, Oikawa. Don’t you wanna take care of me?”
Your voice was high-pitched like the girls in porn, and Oikawa fucking loved it. You were both putting on a show in shorts. A show to piss off a man that you both despised, but it was a show nonetheless. It's a sexy, depraved show.
“You moan like a fucking slut,” he pushed your bikini to the side, exposing your dripping pussy. Without a second thought, he shoved his middle and ring finger deep inside your heat, curling them slightly. You cried out, arching your back further into the mattress as his other hand still had a firm hold on your breast.
“Oh, you like that, cutie? You like getting finger-fucked by your ex-boyfriend's enemy?” he growled, fucking his fingers in and out of your weeping pussy at a relentless pace. “I wonder what they would say if they saw you like this, a slutty little mess under me. You’re such a whore for my fingers, aren’t you?” his thumb dragged over your clit, his fingers and his arm being so precise in their ministrations. Your pussy squeezed around his digits, feeling your first orgasm in such a long-time approach.
“P-please, Oikawa! Fucking make me cum!” you sobbed, your hands clenching onto the white sheets. You saw stars as your orgasm crashed over you, rolling your head to the side to stare directly into the camera. With your blown-out eyes and bruised lips, you looked fucking ethereal.
“Good fucking girl,” Oikawa popped his fingers in his mouth, tasting your slick. You tasted incredible, unlike anything he had ever tasted before. “Open up,” he ran his finger over your soaked core, gathering up more of your essence to forcefully shove inside your mouth. “Suck,” he commanded, and you did. Your tongue ran over his fingers while you made direct eye contact with him, making the setter impossibly hard. “Little slut.”
“M’not a slut,” you whined, spreading your legs further apart. You were contradicting yourself. You were on display for him as if his apartment was some kind of brothel. The look in his eyes when he saw your gorgeous body, your thighs still trembling in the aftershocks of your release. Fuck, it really looked like he ripped you straight out of a porno. 
“Then how come you’re spread out like one for me, hm? That pussy’s dripping all over my bed, dirty girl.” he slid off his swimming trunks, his cock slapping against his rock-hard abs. He boasted a proud, sensitive pink tip that was leaking with precum. He pumped his cock a few times before aligning it with your entrance, slapping the head against your clit. “Now, are you gonna beg for me to fuck you better than that pathetic ex-boyfriend of yours ever could?” he looked directly into the camera, mesmerized by the flashing red light. “Better than Ushijima, I’m better than Ushijima.”
“T-Toru!” you whined, pulling him down by his shoulders into a passionate kiss. You stared into the camera as well, giving it a wink. Using Oikawa’s first name would surely make your ex furious. It just had to. “Fuck me! Fuck me better than Wakatoshi ever could!” you sobbed, wrapping your legs around his waist so he had no hope of escaping. Your eyes were wet with fake tears, begging him to ruin you.
“Shit,” he groaned, pushing the head of his cock past your entrance. “That’s what I like to fucking hear.” he slammed his lips down on yours once again, bullying the rest of his throbbing length deep inside your heat. “So fucking tight.” Oikawa hissed at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him in, his teeth nipping at your lips.
“S’fucking big, Toru! Fuck!” you cried, your nails leaving angry red crescent marks on his back. Oikawa revealed in the pleasure, continuing to make out with you as he fucked you harder, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix occasionally.
“You’ve ever been fucked this hard before, hm?” he bit down on your shoulder, leaving an imprint of his teeth. “No one’s ever fucked this pussy as good before, huh? Fucking answer me, cutie,” his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly. 
You gasped, struggling to take his massive cock and breath at the same time. “No one’s, fuck, no one’s ever fucked me like this before, Toru!” you sobbed, sighing in relief as he let go of your neck.
“So fucking obedient. And you let her dump you, Usjijima? Fucking pathetic,” he rolled his hips against yours, hitting even deeper inside your pussy. His balls slapped against the cleft of your ass, the apartment echoing with lustful moans and squeals. He grabbed your jaw and pulled you in for another kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his cock ravaged your core. 
“Toru, I’m gonna fucking cum!” you sob into his mouth, your nails now leaving furious red scratches down his back. He whined into your mouth, his hips never faltering as they continued their unrelenting and unforgiving speed. Sweat dripped from his brow and into your hair, moan after beautiful moan being ripped from your lips as he fucked you like he owned you, like you were his. It was more than just a revenge fuck, so much more.
“Fucking cum on my cock, cutie. Be a good fucking slut and make a mess on this cock,” he growled into your mouth, pulling on your hair to force your neck to the side. He planted open-mouth kisses as you were pushed over the edge, crying out his name as your release coated his pulsating shaft. 
Fuck, he wasn’t going to last, not at the rate that your pussy was milking him. He eagerly reached for his phone on the mattress, and just as he felt his orgasm approach, he pulled out of your addictive cunt. The camera app was opened, and the record button was pressed, videoing Oikawa desperately fisting his cock before letting out a guttural, almost animalistic roar. His thick, white-hot ropes of cum painted your stomach and fucked out face, some even landing on your lips. Oikawa stopped recording and took several pictures, each with a different angle of your cum-covered curves.
“Gorgeous,” the setter muttered, tossing his phone back onto the now-ruined sheets. He got off the bed and grabbed the camera, winking at the lens as he hit the power button. The light stopped blinking, and Oikawa was satisfied. “Well, you just made your first porno. How do you feel about that, cutie?” 
You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s more of a revenge porno than anything, but I liked it,” you averted your gaze. “You’re a good fuck.”
He placed a hand on his hip. “Well, obviously,” Oikawa rolled his eyes, grabbed a box of tissues, and handed them to you. “Clean yourself off. I’ll run you a bath in a minute.”
You needed clarification. “You’re doing aftercare?”
“Why the hell would I not?” he sounded offended. 
“Because you seem like an inconsiderate piece of shit,” your words were so casual, yet so mean. Why did Oikawa crave more?
“I made you cum, didn’t I?” he snatched the box of tissues out of your hand. “Twice, I made you cum twice. That’s more than fucking Ushijima ever could.”
“Woah, don’t get your panties in a twist. It was just an assumption, damn.” you rolled your eyes, stepping off of the bed. “Now, I’m gonna need to borrow a shirt before I get the hell out of here. You kind of ruined my bikini top.”
Oikawa shook his head, placing the camera inside his drawer beside him. “You aren’t going anywhere, not until I’ve gotten as many orgasms as I want out of that slutty little pussy of yours.”
You chuckled darkly and pounced on him, straddling his waist once again. “Only if I get to be on top this time, okay?” you licked his neck. “I wanna see how the Great King reacts to Shiratorizawa’s Princess riding his cock.”
Oikawa grinned and pulled you down for another kiss, his cock already hard. You were in for a long fucking night.
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Ushijima woke up to an onslaught of ringing sounds coming from his phone. Groaning, he turned to the side to see who had the balls to be emailing him at 2:56 in the morning. 
His eyes widened as he saw two video attachments, as well as several image attachments, of Oikawa’s cock plunging in and out of his ex-girlfriend's pussy. Her cries and moans quickly filled up his bedroom as Oikawa’s mischievous brown eyes locked with Ushijima’s green ones from behind the screen. He sat up, scrolling through the rest of the attachments. Each image was enough to send him into a rage, but the last one was what got to him. Your head resting on Oikawa’s chest, various hickeys covering your tits and neck as you slept soundly. On the other hand, Oikawa was smirking as he held up the number five with his fingers. Ushijima’s hands cracked his phone, shattering the protective glass.
Toru Oikawa was a smug-ass motherfucker.
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misserabella · 1 year ago
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you love it when i play with you
ellie williams x fem! reader
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summary; you play with your gf, who needs you. a couple of texts would have her on your bed, and you, a mess.
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, sexting, teasing, strap on usage (r receiving), strap sucking, throat fucking, mentions of smoking (ellie’s high), choking, hair pulling, so much tension, dirty talking, reader being a tease, ellie showing her her place, tit and nipple play, multiple positions (one of them being riding), multiple orgasms, begging, praise kink, praising, no use of y/n…
a/n; i reached the 10 picture maximum so sorry for the messages change :(🎀
it was a calm saturday afternoon, rain pouring down in mid october as you sat on your bed, a book in between your hands as you read, listening to the soft music blasting through your speakers.
though your attention quickly drifted at the sound of a new notification coming from your phone. it was a message. from your girlfriend.
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you smiled, leaving your book aside to take your phone in between your hands and unlock it to read it.
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you bit down on your lip, your eyebrows rising at the message. you quickly typed an answer.
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you patiently waited as you saw the bubble of writing appear, the phone in between your hands buzzing with the entry of a new message.
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you felt your belly warm up, your pussy throb. even more when she attached a image to this messages.
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you flushed, thighs pushing together. you knew what she was doing. and you knew how to play this game.
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you smirked. ellie’s reddish eyes were feeling heavier at the sight of your beautiful tits. you were wearing her favorite camisole.
she sighed, lips wetting her lips. she wanted them on her mouth.
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ellie groaned, her hand cupping her clothed cunt, which was tingling and throbbing, starting to soak up her boxers.
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ellie swore her heart must have stopped. her hand pushing inside her boxers, fingers diving in between her slick folds, sighing at the feeling. she was indeed so wet.
you noticed the message had been read but she wasn’t answering, so you decided to push on her buttons just a little bit more.
are you wet, ellie?
ellie bit down on her lip, her fingers drawing soft circles on her clit.
you know i am, baby
now, why don’t you let me see you, hm?
you blushed, biting down on your lip before pulling down on your camisole to free your breasts and snap a picture, your hardened pretty nipples showing for your girlfriend.
new photo attached
ellie was getting dressed as soon as she opened it, getting ready as quickly as possible to pull up her legs her jeans and put on her old dirty black converse. she squirmed at the feeling of the wet patch in between her thighs as she walked towards the door.
omw
she typed with one hand as she grabbed the keys of her car.
you shook your head, slightly giggling as you got up from your bed, going towards your vanity to put on some lipgloss and perfume. you looked at yourself on the reflection and smiled. ellie didn’t live very far, so by the time you were done she was pulling at your door, using the key you had gifted her to get inside, running upstairs to your room, where you awaited her on your knees, sitting in the bed.
she groaned when she saw you, feeling dizzy. “you look like a fucking angel.” your doe pretty eyes looked up at her as she approached you, breathing heavy and pupils dilated. you could tell she had been smoking, maybe that’s why she’d gotten so horny. ellie always got horny while high. her cold hand took a grip of your chin, leaning down, her lips brushing your shiny ones. the same lips that had kissed every single crevice of your body. “i wanna ruin you.” you smiled against her lips, that angelical smile that couldn’t deceive her anymore.
“yeah?” you inquired her, and she chuckled, the hand on your chin coming down onto your neck, squeezing. she loved it when you’d taunt her. it only made her hungrier. you left a soft breath against her mouth, a silent moan at the feeling of her hand slightly cutting off your blood flow, making you feel dizzy. the tension could be cut with a knife. it only made you wetter.
“you have a lot to say today, don’t you?” she inquired. “teasing me through texts…, teasing me with a hand around your neck... you make it seem as if i couldn’t fuck the attitude right outta you, baby. is that what you want? want me to fuck some sense into that pretty little head of yours, hm? want me to help you remember your place?” she squeezed tighter, and this time, you whimpered. “i think you do.” she muttered, right against your ear, shivers running down your spine and goosebumps rising on your skin. her lips slightly traced your cheek, all the way back to your lips. “now say please.”
“please.” you breathed out, feeling your cunt throb under her green eyes.
“good girl.” she smirked, pulling away from you, making you whimper. she hushed you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’m just gonna give that pretty little mouth of yours something to be busy with.” your eyes fell to her hands, which were unzipping her jeans. you hadn’t noticed the bulge underneath the denim, underneath her boxers. your mouth watered. you watched as she got rid of her clothes, leaving herself on just her white wife-beater, perky nipples showing and poking through. her strap was laying low on her hips, 7 inches of silicone, detailed with veins. you were drooling. she noticed. “open.” she ordered, the tip against your lips, and you followed, parting them not before leaving a kitten lick to the tip, making her grunt. “fucking tease.” you smirked, although you were gagging soon enough for it to disappear. “just needed to get that smirk fucked out of your face, hm?” one of her hands laced on your hair, and you moaned around the strap, taking it as deep as you could. “that’s it. take that cock.” she sighed, watching as your pretty eyes looked up at her, springing with tears, your lips around her dick as you bobbed your head. she swore she could feel it. “let me see your boobs, baby.” she said, and you pulled down your camisole, letting your tits show. she groaned. “that’s it. go ahead and touch them for me. give me a show, doll.” your hands cupped them, fingers pinching your nipples for them to swell. you moaned, and ellie’s hips thrusted in your mouth, making you gag. you tried to breath through your nose, closing your eyes as you relaxed your throat for her to fuck. “that’s it baby, open up for me.” she then slowly started to go deeper, until your lips were hitting the base of the strap and drool was trailing down your chin and neck. “look at you. so fucking messy… atta girl. deep and sloppy. just how i like it.” you whimpered, her thrusts getting harsher. you were sure your voice would be fucked up tomorrow morning. “fuck.” you gasped for air when she pulled back, cock plopping out of your lips, spit connecting you to the silicone. her thumb caressed your bottom lip, pulling from it to push inside your mouth. you suckled on it, your tongue playing with it. she bit down on her own, and before you knew it she was on top of you, and her tongue was inside your mouth. you moaned, thighs spreading open for her to get in between them, your hands on her hair. tugging and making her groan. “i’m so fucking horny right now, you have no idea. you drive me fucking crazy.” your back arched as her hands cupped your breasts. “best fucking tits ever. can’t wait to see them bouncing as you ride my dick, baby. you’re gonna look so pretty dicked down, all full of me.” you whined, her lips on your nipples, sucking and kissing, and bruising your skin.
“ellie…” you moaned her name.
“get this off.” she groaned, pulling from your camisole up your body, throwing it aside to find you completely bare underneath her. “fuck, baby.” her eyes fell to your soaked cunt.
“they’d just get on the way.” you muttered, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. your hair was a mess, and your eyes were glazed over. you looked like a fucking wet dream.
“so fucking needy…” you screamed when her fingers dived in between your slick folds, fingertips soaking wet. “look at her, she’s so ready for me…” she smirked, circling your clit before pushing one of her fingers inside, letting out lewd squelches every time she’d push it in and out of your cunt. “you hear that? she’s begging for it.”
“fuck.” you moaned as she added her ring finger, curling them to hit your g spot.
“right there, huh?“
“ellie please, need your cock…”
“be patient baby, gotta open you up on my fingers first, don’t want it to hurt.”
“i do. i want it to hurt.” you whispered against her lips, and something crossed through her eyes.
“yeah? want it to hurt baby? want me to split you open with my cock?” you nodded, your back arching as she fucked you with her fingers harder, deeper. “of course you do. you want nothing more than to be a little fuck doll, don’t you? wanna go dumb on my dick. want me to fuck you stupid, hm?”
“yes please ellie, please…” she groaned, pulling her fingers out of you to grab the strap and dip it’s tip in between your folds. it was already lubed up with your spit. you shivered, whimpering as your hips pushed against it, needing more.
“what a good girl. asking for it so nicely. i might as well just give it to you, huh?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she suddenly trusted inside, stretching you out ‘till you felt her in your gut. you were breathless… it hurt, but it hurt so good. “thaat’s it. nice and deep.” she swore she could feel it, the way you were clenching around the silicone as she slowly pulled back, watching your lips engulfing the strap. “fuck baby, so tight…” it was as if you didn’t want to let her go, swallowing her inside. “you’re gonna milk my cock dry.” you moaned when she pushed back inside, the tip hitting your g spot.
your legs surrounded her waist, nails digging on her back, pulling at her shirt to completely undress her. you two were now a tangled naked mess, hips thrusting against the other, moans and grunts filling the room. you two were needy for each other, desperate. she was fucking into you faster now, lips on your neck, on your chest, hands playing with your nipples, fondling your breasts. you were a disaster of moans and ‘more, ellie more’s.
“so good, oh fuck baby. so good for me.” she groaned, the back of the strap rubbing her clit in just the perfect way. “my pretty girl just needed me to fuck her dumh, huh? i can do that. gonna make this pussy feel so good it’ll cry for me.” you whimpered, feeling your orgasm approaching with each harsh thrust, they reached and hit your g spot perfectly. she always fucked you so good.
“ellie, fuck, just like that, shit!” you were a babbling mess, tripping over your words as your back arched.
the room was filling up with the lewd sounds your pussy made fitting her cock inside you. you were so wet it was pooling and making a mess of your sheets.
“just take it baby. be a good girl and take my cock.” she grunted.
“i’m cumming. i’m gonna cum!” you cried out, and her fingers moved to rub on your clit fast and harsh circles to push you closer to your release.
“that’s it. cum for me.” you screamed as it hit you, ellie desperately fucking you to extend it. your moans being cut off by each harsh thrust. “fuck yeah. scream for me doll.”
“ellie!” your back arched, your thighs shaking.
“atta girl. cream my cock baby. give it to me.”
once you came down from it, she was kissing your neck, sucking bruises that you’d proudly wear tomorrow. you moaned, hands on her hair as she slowly stopped her thrusts, groaning. oh fuck she had been so close… her clit was throbbing.
you tugged from her hair when you felt her rock against you, the tip of the strap kissing your g spot, making you whimper.
“give me one more.” she begged. “just one more, baby.” you moaned, nodding, and before you knew it she was back at fucking you.
but you wanted to please her. “let me…” you breathed out, and soon enough ellie was on her back, you straddling her with her cock deep inside your cunt. she watched as you begun to rock her hips, the back of the strap bumping against her clit, easily sliding in between her beyond soaked folds.
“oh fuck.” she moaned, her hands finding your ass to guide your movements. “just like that. fuck me. fuck my cock.” you whined, hands on her abdomen to brace yourself.
“so deep… you’re so deep.” you whimpered. her eyes were on your tits, how they bounced with every roll of your hips, with every jump. she groaned. you looked like a fucking angel, and she was so close… you could feel it too, the high of another orgasm approaching, still sensitive due to your first one.
“pussy so good… she’s swallowing me right up, huh? she loves it. loves my cock.” she babbled, far too gone to think straight.
“ellie, i’m gonna cum…” you moaned, and her hands came up to your breasts, pinching your nipples. your clit was rubbing against the base of her strap.
“yeah? gonna cum again, doll? gonna give me another one?” you nodded. “of course you are, such a good girl for me. come on honey. let me see you fall apart.” it didn’t take long before you were screaming, creaming all over her cock. your cum was in a white ring on its base. at the sight ellie couldn’t help but follow, moaning and whimpering as she came, guiding your hips once again to fuck the two of you through it. “fuckfuckfuck…”
after that ellie had you suck clean her cock.
and maybe her pussy too.
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pathologicalreid · 3 months ago
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for the fear of falling apart | part four
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you missed the paperwork that said joining the BAU meant having an unstable personal life, and Cat Adams is dedicated to making sure you know nothing is ever private
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
series masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: fear of drowning, couples counseling, spencer's mommy issues, takes place during 15x6 "date night", pregnancy and miscarriage, stillbirth, sexual assault, way too many ellipses, suicide, attempted murder, reader's daddy issues, details from the dirty dozen plotline, mishandled apologies, a lot of yapping, near drowning, disassociation, self harm word count: 9.75k a/n: i hate cat adams so much but god she is so funny in this episode. also cat and spencer shippers are not welcome. why does he look so good in this gif. this is the extent of my coherent thoughts.
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“I just made the bed,” you complained halfheartedly, still allowing yourself to be tugged over to the bed despite your protests.
Climbing up on the bed, you tucked yourself into Spencer’s side, so cold after getting out of bed that you wished you could absorb his body heat. “C’mere,” he muttered, placing his hands on either side of your waist and pulling you over him, the two of you meeting face to face. “Hi pretty,” he greeted, craning his head up to place a gentle kiss on your lips.
You smiled slightly against his lips, ducking your head so that your mouths never separated. Mornings away from the bureau were few and far between, so you weren’t interested in wasting a single moment. “Good morning,” you whispered before bringing your lips back to his.
When the phone started to ring, Spencer’s hands fell from your waist in disappointment. He leaned his head back while you rolled off the bed and handed him his phone which he begrudgingly answered, “Hey, what’s up?”
With the phone on speaker, you heard Emily’s voice ring through the phone, “We have a case, it’s urgent,” concern oozed through her tone as you pulled your blazer on over your blouse.
“Alright, we’ll be right in,” he responded for the both of you. Most of the time, they only needed to call one of you.
Emily cleared her throat, “Spencer, there’s something you need to know.”
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The thirty-minute drive from the district to Quantico was silent. You decided to drive, not wanting to worry about the metro when there was so much on the line. Barely having put the car in park, Spencer was already flying out of the car and to the elevator.
Several questions rested like a weight on the tip of your tongue and part of you hoped that this was all part of a morbid prank, but you knew when it came to Cat, it was never a joke. Purposefully being the first two people there, you followed Spencer to where Prentiss and Rossi were waiting in the roundtable room, “Catch us up,” he said, walking through the doorway and beginning to study the information on the screen.
“Early this morning Garcia got an email from an anonymous server,” Emily began, looking between the both of you with concern in her eyes.
Dave nodded next to her, “She’s not obscuring her face, telling us she’s got nothing to hide.”
Next to you, Spencer nodded, slipping both of his hands into his pockets, “Any ideas on the victims or UnSub?”
Chewing nervously on the inside of your lip, you looked at the screen carefully. The photo displayed two girls, one of them a teenager, maybe eighteen, and the other couldn’t be much older than ten. You didn’t speak, waiting for the words that you have heard over the phone to be spoken in person.
“No, only the UnSub’s demand that we release Catherine Adams within twenty-four hours. I’m having her transferred here for questioning,” she informed Spencer, “But we have no illusions. This is just a game to her, we know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”
In your periphery, you watched the remaining members of the team funnel into the bullpen, each of them placing their belongings on their respective desks before setting up for the day. Glancing back at Spencer, you shrugged almost indeterminably, “Do we have a choice?”
Spencer met your stare before looking back at Emily and Rossi, “Could you guys give us a minute?”
The both of them nodded, switching off the screen before heading out, presumably to begin briefing the remainder of the unit. You listened to the click of the door, waiting for Spencer to say anything.
“I don’t want you in there,” he told you.
You weren’t shocked by his request. When he was released from prison he had wanted to keep you near, going so far as to have you fly with him and your sister to Mount Pleasant because after three months he couldn’t bear to be separated. However, he didn’t want you in the observation room, so you stayed on the sidelines while he spoke with Cat, only hearing bits and pieces after the fact.
Once you nodded, Spencer took a deep breath, “I don’t want her to be able to use you against me. If she even gets the slightest idea that you’re behind the glass… I don’t know what she’ll do.”
Most members of the BAU had their One. The one UnSub that would likely haunt them for the rest of their lives, for Emily it was Ian Doyle, for Rossi it was Tommy Yates, and for Spencer it was Cat. “I’ll stay in the bullpen,” you reassured him, “I won’t leave the building, but I don’t need to listen in.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a timid kiss to your hairline before looking over to where Emily was waving him over.
Grimly, you followed Spencer out of the roundtable room, armed guards pouring through the elevator, signifying that the eagle had landed. You stopped at the glass doors, nestling yourself behind a wall – you didn’t need to see her, and she didn’t deserve to see you.
“She’s a contract killer?” Matt questioned as Spencer, Emily, and Rossi headed to the interrogation room. The only member of the team who hadn’t been around while Spencer was in Millburn, and the only member of the team with no experience with Cat Adams. In your gut, you felt a tug of envy.
Penelope nodded nervously, “She’s much, much more than that.” Her voice wavered slightly. Garcia had her own issues with Cat Adams, months of living in the BAU had left her worse for wear, but it was the best option while being hunted by a group of hit men.
You watched the members of the team as their eyes followed Cat around the hallway. “She’s a black widow,” JJ clarified for Simmons, “She preys on men she can seduce. She thrives on psychological seduction.” Her words made your stomach flip as you remembered everything she had put Spencer through in Mexico and subsequently prison – it was psychological warfare, and he was being sent into the lion’s den.
Luke nodded along to the narrative, “She has a body count that she’s never confirmed, but it’s believed to be in the hundreds.” Last time you had given tallying them up a chance you had almost reached two hundred, but she was only being criminally charged with seventy-three counts.
“She’s one of the most dangerous criminals we’ve ever arrested,” Tara admitted, “and she is obsessed with Reid.”
The group took a collective breath when Cat was fully in the interrogation room, “He’s the only man to ever outsmart her,” you continued. As much as he hated to admit it, everything she had ever said to Spencer had hit its mark, and you felt like your insides were being shredded at the knowledge that he was in there with her.
You flipped through Cat’s prison records once you were sat at your desk, looking up at any slight moment at the hope that someone might tell you what was going on. The prison records were relatively tame outside of what you already knew about her and Wilkins and her involvement with Lindsay Vaughn, but something you hadn’t thought about was her baby.
Spencer had broken the hard truth to Cat that day in Mount Pleasant, she couldn’t be a good mother. Her psychopathy would make it so that she would grow bored with a baby the same way a child would bore of a doll. You wondered how she viewed her miscarriage. Some psychopaths had the capacity to mourn, but you weren’t sure Cat fell within that demographic.
Her medical record painted a horrifying picture. She had been so far along that the baby had been delivered stillborn. Your stomach flipped at the charts, closing them before moving to the kitchenette to refill your coffee.
On your way, you saw Spencer through the glass doors, changing course so you could catch him before he went back. You veered around the corner, not wanting to call out his name before he turned into an interview room. Lagging behind, you kept yourself hidden, feeling like you were intruding and starting to walk backward, away from him.
Until you heard a crash and a shout, at which point you pivoted and returned to the interview room. A few agents started rubbernecking at the door, trying to see what was going on, “Keep walking,” you ordered them, pointing away from the room.
Inside the room, Spencer had haphazardly discarded his tie on the floor before proceeding to swipe everything off of the bookshelf. He didn’t acknowledge you as you stepped into the room, he just paced, placing his hand on his chest as he tried to self-regulate.
You tried to go around him, wanting to pick up the fallen books before anyone noticed what had happened, but before you could, Spencer grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. Getting over the initial startle, you reached out your arms and wrapped them around him, “I’m right here.”
“I’m struggling,” he admitted to you, holding you tightly against him. His time in prison felt like lifetimes ago at this point, but the way he hugged you reminded you of the day he got out – the last time you had to deal with Cat Adams.
His openness about his feelings helped to ease your own anxiety, and you were able to look up at him and offer a comforting smile, “That’s alright. This isn’t easy.” You kept your eyes on him, readjusting his rumpled collar and messy hair, “Why don’t you go get some water? I’ll take care of this,” you offered, holding your hand up when he tried to protest.
Spencer left without a fight, and you tried to reassemble the books and trinkets in the way they had previously been before wiping your palms on your jeans and walking back into the bullpen.
The team was gathering in the roundtable room, exchanging information and proposing ideas, “The victimology’s off,” Spencer said, gesturing to the screen where the two girls were being displayed.
“How so?” Tara asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing between your fiancé and the screen.
He crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Two young girls. She’s never done anything like this before.”
Agreeing, Tara looked around the table, “She usually targets men that remind her of her father. Children, even adult children are off limits.” She turned to Penelope, “Do we have an ID yet?”
Waving a fuzzy pen in the air, Penelope sighed, “You would think a parent or someone would notice, but there’s nothing coming up in any of my searches.”
“What do we know about the partner who’s been helping her?” Rossi asked no one in particular, looking to anyone who might have an answer.
Matt leaned his elbows over the table, “It’s gotta be someone from her prison. She wasn’t in contact with anyone else. We can start with known associates who were recently released,” he looked to Garcia, who nodded astutely before typing furiously on her laptop.
You spoke up from the doorway, slipping Spencer’s discarded tie into your back pocket, “I have a list going of associates at Mount Pleasant, we can do some comparing and contrasting,” you offered.
“Oh, I do love a good Venn diagram,” Penelope concurred, smiling before scooping up her laptop and making her way back to the lair.
Taking her seat, you uncomfortably sat next to JJ, leaning your knees toward Rossi so that you didn’t accidentally touch her legs. “Okay, can I tell you what’s been bugging me?” Your sister asked rhetorically, “Every time we’ve gone up against Cat, there’s the presenting agenda and the hidden one. If she sticks to pattern, this isn’t just about going on a date with Spencer.”
You considered the idea of her not having a secondary agenda but she had already veered so far off from her usual M.O. that everything else needed to follow the arbitrary rules in her mind.
“Right now, she’s a fixed variable,” Emily counseled, “We need to focus on identifying the UnSub and her victims.”
At that, everyone parted ways except for you and Spencer, you stayed flipping through folders of research you had on Cat Adams, ranging from her time as Miss .45 to her years in Mount Pleasant Women’s Correctional Facility. Spencer stood, hands on the back of your chair as he looked at the pictures being projected on the screen.
Every time Cat Adams came up, each topic you even slightly associated with her resurfaced – Diana’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, Mexico, Millburn, and now the two of you were just barely recovering from the fallout of your sister’s truth. You were overwhelmed, and if you were overwhelmed, Spencer had to be on the verge of some kind of breakdown.
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered despite the empty room, “Tell me what to do.”
You took a deep breath before turning your head and looking up at him, “I can’t tell you what to do. This is your decision.”
He sighed, lowering himself down in the chair next to you and resting his chin in his hand, “Then don’t tell me what to do, but I would like your input. Your thoughts, feelings,” he amended.
Smiling despite yourself, you looked over at him, “Someone’s paying attention in couple’s therapy,” you said lightly, setting your hand gently on his knee.
“I just need to know if we’re on the same page or if I’m going to mess everything up,” he said, bringing his free hand to where yours rested and threading your fingers together.
You leaned back in the office chair, shrugging slightly before you answered, “I think you should go.”
Spencer frowned, “What?”
“I think you should go on the date with Cat,” you iterated.
Clearly, that wasn’t what he had expected from you, “I don’t- You want me to go on a date with someone else?”
You flipped your file shut before looking back at him, “If I had the liberty to look at this situation as just your fiancé I would, but I’m not just your fiancé. I’m an FBI agent and I’m looking at these girls,” you gestured to the screen, “and I know that our best chance of finding them might just be sending you on a date with Cat.” You took a deep breath, “She always trips up and she always does it with you. It’s your call, at the end of the day, you don’t need to go if it’s not something you want to have to experience, but you asked for my thoughts, so there they are.”
Spencer looked conflicted as he considered his options, “I’ve- We’ve come so far recently. I’d hate to ruin all of that.”
Shaking your head, you smiled at his concern, “Solving the case has to come first this time, love.”
He nodded in agreement, standing up and keeping your hands intertwined, “Come with me,” he encouraged, nearly dragging you over to the interrogation room where Cat was. He opened the door to the observation room and brought you in with him.
You averted your eyes so that you didn’t have to look at her – possibly the only woman you would throttle given the chance – and just waited for Emily, who was getting more details.
Waiting for the door to close behind her, Spencer listened for the click before speaking up, “Well, what are her demands?”
Emily looked exasperated, sharing a look with you before responding, “She wants to go ice skating so she can skate circles around you. She’s wasting our time.”
And her own, you thought, Cat didn’t have much time to make an arrangement with Spencer, eventually, she’d just be sent back to prison. Ice skating would never get approved anyway. No matter how you try to spin it, no one would give her a blade.
The door opened, taking attention away from Cat and onto Penelope, who looked confused and mildly disturbed, “Okay,” she started, “Something weird happened, but it could be a lead. I just got a bazillion voicemail messages, all from the same address on Fourth Street.”
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While Tara and Luke checked out the potential lead on Fourth, you stayed sat at your desk, listening carefully to the bustling office around you. Up in Emily’s office, you heard your sister and Simmons updating your unit chief, “We found the UnSub, her name is Juliette Weaver – it took the prison all of five minutes to identify her.”
You filtered through your file in front of you, looking for the information you had on Weaver while Matt continued speaking, “She was Cat’s old cellmate. Released from prison six months ago, off the grid a week ago.”
“What was she in for?” Rossi asked and you wondered if they knew how well voices carried into the bullpen.
Matt cleared his throat before responding, “Low-level possession, she took the rap for her boyfriend, but according to the warden, she’d follow Cat around like a puppy dog.”
Your unit chief hummed thoughtfully, “Easily manipulated. So, Cat groomed her, got her to take orders.” Much like she had done with Lindsey Vaughn, convincing her to destroy Spencer’s life – you wondered if Juliette considered Cat her lover too.
“It goes deeper than that,” JJ interjected, “Cat and Juliette have something in common.”
“Juliette’s dad killed her mom in a domestic dispute. Then he fled and was never caught,” Matt resumed, surprising you.
As you imagined the surprise on Emily’s face, she responded, “That’s exactly what happened with Cat’s parents.”
You watched them in the office as Matt set something down on Emily’s desk, “Yeah, so we did a little digging into Susan. We thought that she might’ve been Juliette’s mom, but she’s not.”
“She’s Cat’s,” Rossi realized.
Matt hummed in confirmation, “Susan Adams, unidentified cold case from 1987. She was found floating in the water on the Potomac. Thanks to that picture, the case isn’t cold anymore.”
Turning your attention back to the information you had on Cat’s former cellmates, you looked over Juliette’s personal information. There wasn’t much on her, but there were some details about her family – including two younger sisters. You would likely need Garcia to confirm it for you, but you had a good feeling that the two girls being held captive were Juliette’s sisters. If that was Juliette’s stake in this, you were no closer to figuring out what Cat’s endgame was.
Looking up at your computer, you thought about the first time Spencer and Cat had gone head-to-head. It had been almost four years to the date. You frowned at your monitor, “It’s an anniversary,” you whispered to no one in particular.
“What was that?” Luke asked from his desk, adjusting his Kevlar vest as he prepared to be the chaperone for the date.
Double-checking the dates, you turned to face him as you clarified, “Four years, almost to the date of the day Spencer arrested Cat.”
Luke nodded in understanding, “That’s why she chose now to act. It wasn’t just that she was running out of time, this was the perfect time for her to get into Reid’s mind.”
Scoffing, you gathered up your papers and walked up to Emily’s office, if Cat wanted to meddle, fine, but you could play her game too.
Four years, you thought to yourself. Spencer had been on family leave for months, and taking down Cat was his first case back. You wish you had known back then how much that case would affect the next four years of his life.
The team gathered when it was time, the remaining eight standing outside of the glass doors to the unit and watching and Spencer and Cat strolled through the hallway. She had been cleaned up, some poor agent sent out to find a date-appropriate outfit for her, and she was holding onto Spencer like he was a prize she had won at a fair.
Spencer’s face was blank. No, worse than that, he was completely absent. Separating himself from what was going on with Cat. It horrified you, every time you saw Spencer retreat into himself it made you sick to your stomach. You were grateful Luke was going with them, he was someone Spencer trusted to make the right calls.
For the first time that day, you and Cat locked eyes, glaring at each other in a battle of wills, “Don’t wait up,” she called out to you, winking before the heavy elevator doors slid shut.
Slowly, your group dispersed, going back to trying to figure out Cat and Juliette’s endgame. You looked at your files, but you couldn’t focus, you could barely breathe. Spencer would be safe. He was smart enough to evade anything Cat threw at him, but she seemed to chip at him every time they saw each other.
You swung in your office chair, trying to form an even semi-helpful thought as your sister came up to your desk, “Hey.”
Peeling your eyes away from the folders, you looked up at her, “Hi,” you responded, slightly confused.
JJ sat on the edge of your desk, crossing her ankles so her legs didn’t dangle, and she looked at you, blonde hair curtained around her face.
There wasn’t much for you to do until the date started and Spencer could fish for answers with Cat, but even so, you weren’t interested in holding a staring contest with your sister. “Did you need anything?” You felt like it was a gentle enough question, there was no reason for you to bring your hostile family relationship to work with you. Everyone knew there was something happening between the two of you, but no one knew precisely what it was.
Her eyebrows creased briefly, “I thought we could talk, just for a minute.”
You unceremoniously dropped your pen on your desk, leaning back and looking at your sister incredulously, “Kind of shit timing, don’t you think?”
“I invited you for dinner last night and you didn’t show up. Every time I come up to you at work you start a conversation with someone else,” she tried to explain herself.
It was exactly as she thought – you were avoiding her. You had no interest in repairing your familial tie, your thread of gold had frayed beyond repair. “I was busy last night, I told you I wouldn’t be able to make it. You’re the one who didn’t believe me.”
She sighed defeatedly, “Thursdays used to be your best night. You’d always come for dinner on Thursday nights like clockwork, are you telling me that changed overnight?”
You bit your tongue, but it wasn’t that you were trying to stop yourself from sniping at her, you were trying to stop yourself from telling her where you were last night. Thursday evening was your weekly couples counseling appointment and your sister didn’t need to be privy to the inner workings of your relationship. Besides that, none of this had been overnight – you hadn’t been over for dinner in months now.
For every single milestone that you reached with Spencer, JJ was the first person you told, but when you got engaged, she found out the news secondhand through Penelope. You knew you had hurt her. Maybe it wasn’t the same as her love confession, but you hurt her, and you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize. You weren’t entirely sure if you should apologize.
“I’m telling you that I didn’t snub you on dinner, JJ. I was busy, I couldn’t come,” you told her, keeping your tone level as you looked up at her.
Her expression soured, “How long are you going to be mad at me?”
Forever, if you could help it, but you couldn’t tell her that. Despite your anger, despite the sadness that thinking too hard about all of this brought you, you knew that you weren’t capable of holding your sister at arm’s length for the rest of your life. “JJ, I’m not-“ you cut yourself off. “When I found out that you were in love with Spencer, I promised myself that I wouldn’t hold it against you,” you lowered your voice, conscious of the bustling bullpen around you. “I’ve kept that promise. I can’t blame you for loving him when I know everything he has ever done that makes him loveable. I love him too. So, in whatever convoluted way you want to look at it, I understand where you’re coming from.”
She nodded in what seemed like agreement, “Ducky, I’ve known him for fifteen years, I couldn’t-“
“You see,” you interrupted her, “That’s where my understanding runs out. Just because you’ve known him longer doesn’t give you the right to come into our relationship and fuck everything up. Yes, Jennifer, you’ve known him for fifteen years, but you rejected him. You rejected him and ended up with someone else. Thirteen years after meeting Will, you told Spencer you were in love with him. Do you know how wrong that is?”
JJ’s shoulders slumped forward, “Yes, but-“
You held up your hand, stopping her from speaking, “No, JJ. There’s no ‘but’. What you did was wrong. You can try to justify it to me in whatever way you want, but what you did will always be wrong. It will always affect our relationship. Your love for Spencer is the ghost haunting our house and there are no Ouija boards in the world that can translate for me,” You cringed at your figure of speech, but you went along with it anyway.
“You’re engaged, so there’s obviously a way through this for the two of you,” she tried to argue, but you could tell her heart wasn’t in it.
Pausing, you picked at the dry skin around your nails, “Spencer and I had a really long and exhaustive talk a few weeks ago.”
She raised her eyebrows, “I know, I read the police blotter.”
You rolled your eyes, that hadn’t been a fun talk with Emily, but at least she prevented your dispute from reaching HR. “Yeah, we had a loud talk. We figured things out. We’re still figuring things out, but we decided that we’d rather do that together than apart.”
“I helped him pick the ring,” she confessed. “About a year ago and I thought… I thought he’d tell me before asking.”
Instinctively, your eyes flicked down to your left hand, “For what it’s worth, it was all very spur of the moment.”
JJ shook her head, “Why are you trying to comfort me right now?”
“God, JJ. I might be pissed at you, but you’re still my sister,” you snapped at her. “While I might want to, I can’t just cut you out of my life and I can’t stop myself from caring about you. If you want to work on our relationship, owning up to your mistakes is a good start. Spencer came clean to me and now we’re engaged, but that doesn’t negate the fact that this was broken in the first place. You don’t get to brush this under the rug.”
“You wouldn’t let me brush it under the rug anyway,” she retorted.
Your head snapped up to her, “Is that what you want? To forget any of this ever happened?”
She was quiet for a while before responding, “Yes.”
You pressed your lips together and studied her briefly, “Well, I can’t give you that.”
JJ opened her mouth like she wanted to say something else, but Emily beat her to it, calling out to you from the doorway of her office, “Do you have a second?”
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The ceiling of your apartment was only interesting for a limited amount of time. You’d spent years in the apartment, tracing the patterns with your eyes just felt redundant now.
Emily had benched you. She disguised it as giving you the rest of the night off, but you were effectively taken off the case. She couldn’t claim it was a conflict of interest, everyone on the team had a conflict of interest with Cat Adams, but that’s what she thought it was.
You sat down on the couch, drumming your fingers on your denim-clad thigh while you waited for a phone call – you’d even take a text message.
Wallowing in your own boredom, you listened to the sounds of the city. Where the two of you lived, it was hectic during the day and became more manageable at night, but it was still the city. Cars drove by, sirens wailed, people chatted along the sidewalk, and people spoke in the hallway.
No, actually, people talking in your hallway was abnormal. Sitting up, you looked at the front door, considering going to snoop in on your neighbor’s conversation.
You didn’t even have the time to decide before the door opened, revealing Spencer and Cat in the middle of what seemed like a rather intense kiss.
He pulled away, looking into the apartment and seeming surprised to see you.
Standing up, your arms dangled limply at your sides, “Oh, Spence.”
Holding up a finger, he silently begged you to wait. You couldn’t hear anything that came out of his mouth, everything was muffled as you fought back the tears that were burning your eyes.
You didn’t talk again until Cat spoke to you. “What?”
She laughed slightly and you could hear your heart pounding, “Did it make you mad when I kissed your fiancé?”
You hated her. Your mother would tell you that hate is a strong word, and you still didn’t care, you hated her. “No,” you lied through your teeth.
Innocently, her eyebrows raised, “Why not?”
Four years. Four years of her haunting Spencer. You thought back to that first meeting at the restaurant and responded, “No offense, but you’re not really worth getting mad at.”
Her eyes lit up and even though you knew better, you were proud of yourself for striking a nerve. With a psychopath, that was a dangerous game. Before long, she meandered around the furniture in your home and sat in the reading chair, she looked at you, “Oh, sweetheart, we have so much to talk about. I’m so glad Spencie finally decided to introduce us.”
Anxiously, your eyes flicked over to Spencer’s. Worse than your own anxiety, he looked angry, an uncommon expression for him to wear. “It’s nice to have a real conversation with you,” you gratified her.
“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight I want you both here to make a point,” she watched Spencer as the two of you waited for the ball to drop. “You could do so much better, because girl,” she turned to look at you, “You need to know the truth about him.”
Pinching your brows together, you looked at Cat, “What are you talking about?”
She smiled to herself, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder, “He told me that no matter what, he can’t get me out of his mind.”
“Everything I said to her tonight was a lie,” Spencer interjected, doing damage control on your relationship while Cat tried to take it apart.
Cat scoffed, “Did our kiss look like a lie?”
There was a time when Spencer was under the impression that he had been sexually assaulted by Cat in Mexico, and during that time, you were afraid of him hurting himself. You were in the lion’s den with him now and you had to rely on your gut. He wouldn’t kiss her unless it was his last resort. He wouldn’t do that to himself. He wouldn’t do that to you. Still, you forced yourself to look at him and answer her question, “No.”
“Thank you, now we’re getting to the heart of the matter,” she resumed smugly, obviously pleased with your response and she stood up, putting her hands on everything around the apartment. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is- is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who uh, always saves the day and has all the answers and has… zero mommy issues, right?” She pointedly tipped over a photo of Diana before she continued flouncing around the apartment, “But um, I know the real him.”
Spencer looked at her incredulously and you wished you could hear what he was thinking at that moment, “Yeah? Who’s the real me, Cat?”
She cocked her head at you, the faux pity in her eyes made you nauseous, “The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls and hisses that he’s going to kill them.”
He faltered and you knew she had hit her mark, “That was a very different situation.”
“Was it?” She challenged, looking at him for a rebuttal, but the vacant look was coming back to his eyes.
Chewing on the inside of your lip, you met his eyes, “What is she talking about?”
You had been in Mount Pleasant that day. For all of the things she knew about, she didn’t know that you had been there, and you could use that against her, but you’d likely hurt Spencer in the process.
“You tell her,” Cat insisted, “She’s not gonna believe it coming from me.” With a flourish, she sat back down in the chair, crossing her legs as she watched her entertainment for the night.
Spencer pursed his lips, leaning forward as his eyes flicked between the two of you, “Just like tonight, she got under my skin and-“
“You threw her against a wall,” you finished, displaying your comprehension of the story to Cat and reminding Spencer that you already knew.
Cat stood back up, dragging a hand along your shoulders, sending goosebumps sprawling across your skin. “Don’t skimp on the details, Spencie,” she goaded him. “She deserves to know everything.”
The terrible feeling you’d had all day worsened as you realized where she was going with this. It was the natural continuation of the story for her even if it wasn’t the truth.
“She was pregnant at the time, and I knew that when I hurt her,” Spencer admitted, the shame he felt emanating from him in waves.
You’re not like that, baby. You’re not a violent person, you remembered telling him. You wanted to tell him that now, but she’d never let you.
Cat looked at you, a devilish glint in her eye as she rounded out her fabrication, “And the next day I miscarried. The end.”
Your breathing hitched as you saw Spencer retreat completely into himself, “What? That’s not true.”
Her head snapped over to him, “It most certainly is true, check my medical records.”
“That doesn’t- I would-“ He stuttered, but it was too late.
“Stop,” she interjected, nodding her head in your direction, “Look.”
You were choking on the truth. You wanted to scream at her and simultaneously tell Spencer that she was lying to him. The words weren’t coming out, the only thing you had were tears. They were streaming down your face as you looked at nobody and nothing, sitting on your hands.
No one said anything for a while before Spencer sat down, keeping his distance from you, “I’m sorry.”
“Notice how your fiancé is apologizing to you and not me,” Cat instructed you, you peered up at her through wet eyelashes. “Men are all the same, aren’t they Ducky?”
Spencer jumped to your defense as you blanched at the nickname, “Don’t call her that,” he snapped.
Cat inclined her head toward him, “What, are you going to throw me up against the wall and choke me or do you only do that to pregnant women?”
Of all of the things for Cat to know about you, your childhood nickname wasn’t what you expected. You looked at her and met her eyes through your bleary ones, “Why are you doing this?”
You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, but you couldn’t take it back now, “Because I want you to see it,” she explained. “I want you to see that he is no better than all the men you chase. All the men who have hurt you before.”
“Stop,” you pleaded, staring at the floor in front of you.
Cat crouched next to you, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “I can see it in your face. Why did you flinch when I used your nickname?”
Your nostrils flared, “It’s none of your business,” you insisted.
She laughed at your attempted assertion, “Oh, but it is. In fact, it’s my specialty. Is he nearby? I could send Juliette over to say hi,” she offered.
“Say yes,” Spencer interjected, “Give her what she wants.”
Glaring at him, Cat waved him off, “He wants you to get me to make a phone call so they can trace it. You’re so good, the BAU.”
You shook your head helplessly, “I never wanted to be involved in this sick, twisted game between the two of you.” Even still, you had never been given the choice. Emily sent you home under the guise of waiting out the date only for it to be a trap.
Cat mock-pouted, “Tell me your story, Ducky, and I promise I will give Juliette a call and those two girls will be safe and sound.”
And that was the end of it. You couldn’t let your cowardice cost those girls their lives – or whatever Cat had planned for them.
“Come on, little duck,” she prodded at you, “It’s story time.”
Spencer shook his head, “Y/N, it’s a trap.”
Scoffing, Cat sat next to you, “It is so tricky, isn’t it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath… or me?”
Desperately, you looked up at Spencer and his face fell as he realized what you were doing. “My sister gave it to me,” you told her.
Impishly, she smiled, “Jennifer?”
“No,” you answered, “Roslyn, and don’t interrupt.” You frowned, piling your hands in your lap as you searched for the story. “I don’t remember it, but when I was learning how to walk I… waddled. So, when I would walk around Roz would follow me and make duck sounds, and I would mimic her. She started calling me Ducky after that and it just stuck.”
She smiled at you knowingly, “That is so sweet. How could you hate such a heartfelt nickname from your dearly departed sister?”
You shook your head, “I don’t hate it,” you insisted.
Cat cocked her head at you, “Tell me,” she goaded. “Tell me or I ruin her life.”
Quickly, you looked up at Spencer and made sure he caught the slip up too. The two of you shared a suspicious look before you continued, “My parents put me in school early, I started kindergarten when I was four and I learned early that kids were cruel. They would follow me around and quack,” you laughed despite yourself, what had seemed heinous as a child would barely make you spare a glance as an adult. “One day, we were doing a class craft, and they put glue and feathers on my seat so they stuck to my skirt when I stood up,” you told her, recalling the way your poor mother had to leave work to help you pick feathers from your skirt.
Next to you, Cat lifted a hand to her mouth, fake yawning as she waited for you to get to the man of it all.
“When she got home, I yelled at Roslyn,” You’d spiraled about this so many times in adulthood that you were surprised it had any effect on you anymore. “I told her I hated her. I told her she was a bad sister, and I wanted her to go away,” you admitted, fighting off tears again. “She skipped dinner that night and the next morning she… JJ found her. In the bathroom. She had slit her wrists with our father’s razor blade.”
Spencer’s brown eyes bore into you, reflecting the same sadness that you were sure was on your own face, “You were only four, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t help,” Cat snarked.
“Cat,” Spencer snapped.
Frustrated, you wiped under your eyes, “My dad blamed me. He told me he would give me up if it meant she would come back, and he’s maintained that sentiment ever since.” You knew now that there were other things Roslyn had been struggling with at the time, but part of you would always have the nagging feeling that you had a role in your sister’s suicide.
“So, you understand me,” she said matter-of-factly.
Confused, you lifted your head to look at her, “What?”
She scooted closer to you, “You understand why I’ve killed all of them. Those men,” she clarified.”
You looked at her, “No, Cat, I don’t understand you. I hate my dad, but I don’t want to kill him. I don’t prey on the deaths of the people that I hate, and that’s the difference between me and you. I want my dad to have to live with the fact that he’s a horrible person. I want him to live with what he did to me, to my family.”
Cat narrowed her eyes at you, “And he didn’t even visit you after you got shot.”
Out of guilt, you had assumed. His guilty conscience was the only thing that kept him away. After all, almost thirty years of telling you that it should’ve been you, the universe almost came through for him. “Give me the location,” you said, holding her to her end of the bargain.
Groaning, she held out her hand for your phone so she could put the location into your map. Once you had what you needed, you started making your way out, hearing her call after you, “Keep your head above water, Ducky!”
You kept moving, your feet moving beneath you even though your heart wanted to drop to the floor, you charged out the door, ignoring Emily as she tried to comfort you. Luke followed you out of the apartment building, neither of you speaking until you handed your phone to Luke, showing him the location. “Stay here, I’ll call the team and get them to meet here,” he told you, lifting your phone to let you know he was taking it with him.
Trailing behind him anyway, you got into the passenger seat of the SUV, “I have to go, Luke. It’s… I’ll be fine.”
He wasn’t entirely convinced, but Luke generally wasn’t one to argue with you. “Okay, but I’m still calling for backup.”
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It wasn’t a far drive, in fact, months ago this bridge had been a regular stopping point when you went on walks, but as soon as you stepped out of the car and heard the water running below you, you froze.
There were flashing lights all around you, and the only thing you could do was watch as Juliette held onto the older of her two sisters at the edge of the bridge. The younger girl was calling out for her sister. Vaguely, you heard Matt trying to talk Juliette into letting them go.
The little girl screamed as Juliette shoved her sister off of the bridge, putting her hands up once the crime had been committed. Luke called for search and rescue through his comm, and you watched the little girl, just as old as JJ when Roslyn passed away.
Keep your head above water.
You didn’t remember much about Roslyn’s funeral, it was mostly JJ straightening your dress and fiddling with her necklace, but that singular event had changed the entire course of your life.
The screaming continued even as you ran to the edge of the bridge, not garnering anyone’s attention until it was too late, and Luke shouted your name as you dove off of the platform.
Afterward, the first thing you would remember was the pain. You absorbed the shock of hitting the water through your arms, causing strain on both of them. The darkness of the water was just as you imagined it would be. That is, until you rose to the surface, met with dozens of flashlights shining down on you.
People called your name, but you just looked around the water, listening for splashing as you hoped to find Juliette’s sister.
There was a gasp behind you, the both of you treading as best you could, but the water was cold, and she slipped under. Impulsivity was never your strong suit, so you hadn’t really considered the way your hands would go numb until you put an arm around her waist, trying to keep her head above the water.
“Y/N!” Matt called from the riverbed, shining his flashlight over at you while you tried to support the girl. It wasn’t easy, you ducked your head under the water and pushed her up, the darkness of the water threatening to swallow you whole.
Hoisting her up, you felt your teammates pull her from the water and sighed, forgetting where you were.
You gagged on the water before reaching up your arms, letting yourself be pulled out. The shock of the air on your lungs was nearly as bad as that of the water, but as you coughed up water on the dirt, you heard the girl start coughing as well.
Her body would have been dumped right where Cat’s mother had been found, and that little girl would have lost her big sister, just like you did. It was the only thing you could think of as you were brought back to the BAU because Emily was insistent on debriefing.
“You dove into the water?” Emily asked before ordering one of the desk agents to go find something for you to change into.
Your wet clothes clung pathetically to your skin as you nodded, “Yeah, I did.”
Luke smiled next to you, “It was pretty impressive, actually.”
“It’s reckless is what it is,” Emily said, studying your damp state, “Go up to my office and turn the space heater, we need to thaw you.”
Rolling your eyes, you walked up to Emily’s office and opened the door, turning the knob on the space heater before sitting on the little couch in her office. Placing your ring on the coffee table to dry, you wrapped your arms around yourself. You waited for the desk agent to return with clothes and instead were surprised when your sister came through the doorway with a pile of clothes in hand. “Hey,” she said, lifting the clothes, “Fresh from the Academy laundry.”
She closed the blinds as you stripped down to your tank top, pulling the sweatshirt over your head before swapping out your pants as well.
“How do you feel?” She asked gently, standing across from you hesitantly.
You looked down at your new clothes, “I feel like FBI Academy propaganda,” you responded, sitting back down on the couch.
Raising her eyebrows, she looked at you intently, “I meant after… everything tonight.”
Pulling your knees up to your chest, you looked up at your sister, “It never had anything to do with Spencer,” you whispered.
She pursed her lips before sitting next to you, “Well, it’s always Cat’s goal to get under Spencer’s skin. She just chose to use you to do it this time.”
You would probably never know how Cat managed to know so much about you. Honestly, you probably didn’t want to know. This time next week, Cat Adams would be dead, and that would just have to be enough for you.
“I can’t believe you jumped into the river,” JJ said in disbelief, rubbing a hand up and down your back.
Shyly, you shrugged at her, “I saw a little girl about to lose her big sister and I couldn’t let her go through that kind of pain.”
Your sister nodded in understanding, “She was eleven?”
You nodded slowly, “And her sister was seventeen,” you whispered.
Part of you felt like you had been staring at an alternate universe all evening. “So,” JJ said, moving the conversation, “Spencer’s on his way back. He’ll probably want to talk to you, clear some things up.”
“Will you sit with me until he does?” You asked softly, afraid of her sniping back about forgiveness, but she didn’t. That wasn’t the way JJ worked, she just nodded, leaning back against the cushions and letting you rest your head on her shoulder.
She didn’t get up and leave until Spencer arrived, she went to meet him in the bullpen, and you waited for the moment someone told him where you were. There was a sensation you had never experienced before, but you felt so separate from your own actions. Despite your still wet hair, you barely remembered diving into the water.
You sensed another psychological evaluation in your future.
The rotating heater warmed you in waves as you listened to your team. They filled Spencer in on everything that had happened tonight, from Juliette’s sisters to Cat’s real plan. “She…” Spencer stammered, “She told me Y/N had a big decision to make tonight. Where is she?”
Blankly, you stared ahead at the heater, wondering what they’d tell him and what they’d save for you. “Well, she may have jumped into the Potomac,” Matt told him tentatively, his voice was gentle as he dropped the bomb.
“She dove actually,” Luke corrected, and you imagined him being proud of his redress.
Emily cleared her throat, ever the mediator, and finally answered Spencer’s question, “She’s up in my office getting warm.”
There were no more questions after that, but you recognized the footsteps as Spencer approached the office. His knock was timid, but he didn’t wait for you to respond before opening the door.
His hair was awry, you supposed yours didn’t look much better, and his breathing was uneven. A symptom, you assumed, of finding out you had jumped into the fourth largest river on the Atlantic coast. “Hi,” you waved nervously.
At the same time, he spoke, “I’m so sorry.”
There was no use in pussyfooting around, “Did you want to talk now, then?”
“Yes,” he answered instantly, “I can’t… I’m so tired of things looming over our heads.”
You sighed, folding your hands in your lap, “That cumulonimbus has been there for quite some time, hasn’t it?”
“I just cheated on you and you’re making cloud jokes?” Spencer asked in disbelief. At some point in the night, he had lost his jacket, leaving him in a rumpled dress shirt.
Turning to stone, you paused. Maybe it was the Potomac water that you had ingested, maybe it was the other events of the evening, but you had brushed off the kiss between him and Cat nearly immediately. “I guess I didn’t really think of it that way,” you admitted.
He leaned back on Emily’s desk, “All of these problems we’ve been having, and we were just beginning to make headway. I went and ruined it.”
Raising your eyebrows, you looked at Spencer quizzically, “Okay, well, now you’re catastrophizing.”
“I made a choice years ago that resulted in you facing one of your biggest fears tonight, you’re shaking, and your clothes are in a sopping pile on the ground,” he explained as if you weren’t well aware. “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.”
“I think you just had a shitty night spent with a woman who has a knack for convincing you you’re evil, so you’re telling me how evil you are right now,” you responded, leaning back on the couch cushions. “You’re not evil and you’re barely a cheater,” you told him, “I’d love to lay out all of the evidence for you, but I’m exhausted and I’d rather we just go home.”
One look at Spencer told you that you weren’t going to be getting what you wanted tonight, the histrionics of your evening weren’t over. “I made you cry,” he said meekly. He said it like it was the worst thing he could ever do to you.
“I’m the one who told you to go! I might not be a genius, but I’m smart enough to have considered the fact that Cat would try to make a move.” Groaning, you covered your face with your arms, “Spencer, Cat made me cry. I had to sit back and watch her manipulate you into believing you caused her miscarriage.”
“You knew?” He breathed.
You nodded, dropping your arms and looking at him miserably, “Yes, I knew the truth, and it killed me to not be able to tell you.”
Waiting for him to respond was agonizing. You desperately wanted to apologize for not telling him as soon as you found out about Cat’s baby, but you didn’t think it was important information at the time.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Spencer finally spoke. “I thought… I couldn’t handle it if you thought that I’d-“
Quickly, you shook your head and waved your hands, “No, Spence. I knew the truth from the get-go.”
He was quiet, shuffling his feet on the carpet before he looked up at you. He opened his mouth to speak but second-guessed himself before sealing his lips and crossing his arms in front of his chest. Watching you for a moment, he spoke, “Do you remember when you asked me what my truth would’ve been? If Pinkner had asked me instead of JJ?”
“We should go to bed.”
“Wait, what’s your truth?”
“My truth is that I’m tired, we should go to sleep.”
Part of you wanted to ask if he wanted to do this now, after the day the two of you had, you’d be perfectly content with going home and leaving this conversation for tomorrow. Instead, you nodded, “Yes, you ignored it.”
Spencer chuckled nervously, “You had been spending weeks looking for a reason to pick a fight with me. I didn’t think you would accept my answer for what it was.”
“The truth,” you drew your own conclusion, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.
Slowly, he knelt on the ground in front of you, “You were looking for me to tell you that I shared JJ’s feelings. You wanted me to say that you were my second choice, but that has never, ever been my truth. It never has been.”
Swallowing thickly, you reached your hands out and took his in yours, gently skimming the pads of your thumbs over the back of his hands, “Spencer, truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he whispered.
“What’s your truth?” You asked him softly, approaching the topic like a deer in the woods.
He looked down at your intertwined hands, noting the fact that you had taken your ring off before he responded, “I’ve spent my entire life trying to live up to the expectations of others. I went to Caltech, then MIT, and then I was recruited to the BAU. Through all that, I was under the impression that I was letting people down.”
This was a familiar conversation to you. You once spent hours talking him off of a metaphorical ledge because he hadn’t cured schizophrenia.
“I’m not the perfect son, who sent his mother away a week after turning eighteen,” an action that had almost gotten him killed. “I’m not a perfect agent and I’m not a perfect friend because the expectations set for me are too high, but I’m not a perfect boyfriend or fiancé either. It’s not because you hold me to a certain standard, it’s because I failed you.”
Your eyes widened at his admission, “Spencer, no, you didn’t.” Your chest ached at the thought of this living in his head. He had been living while paralyzed by the weight of the expectations of others when he just wanted one thing - to feel normal.
He waved you off, “Do you remember what you asked me? On that date in the shooting range?”
Seven years ago, shortly after Emily left for Interpol, you and Spencer had an impromptu date at the shooting range. “I asked you not to break my heart.”
“And I have, haven’t I? Time and time again,” he asked rhetorically, not looking for an answer even when you wanted to prove him wrong. “You’ve watched me get shot, you’ve seen me in handcuffs, beaten, kidnapped, fired – and you’ve never wavered. You have loved me through it all, and I haven’t reciprocated fairly. I had never known unconditional love, and I think you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to it. I get put on this pedestal by everyone I meet and you’re the only person who has ever made me feel average. I know average is usually used with a negative connotation, but in this case, I mean it positively. You don’t have outlandish requests from me, all you’ve ever asked for is love, and I… I’m never going to be able to verbalize how much that means to me. How much you mean to me.”
“Spencer,” you tried to interject.
His eyes met yours, his brown irises slightly bleary as he looked at you intently, “I am so sorry. I’m sorry about your sister and I’m sorry about kissing Cat and I’m sorry about all of the ways I have broken your heart and if you… if this is where you need to call it, then I completely understand.”
“Spencer,” you echoed.
He tilted his head to the side, “What?”
You raised your eyebrows, “My ring is over there, on the coffee table, will you put it back on for me?”
“Do you mean it?” He asked, reaching behind him for the ring without waiting for your answer.
Holding out your left hand, you nodded, “There have been a lot of wrongs – from the both of us, but I don’t… I can’t hold the JJ thing against you anymore. You’re verifiably a genius. So, if you tell me that the only thing that would’ve pleased Cat is kissing her, then I’ll believe you. I trust you, and if I lose that, then I lose myself.”
He seemingly thought about it for a moment before responding, “It was the only thing I could think of, and I promise I will make this up to you.”
Smiling softly, you flexed your fingers once he slid the ring back on, relishing the feel of the metal on your finger. “Then it’s a good thing you’re only getting married once, it gives you a lot of time to make it up to me.”
“Did you have any ideas?” He asked a little too eagerly.
You beamed, “Oh, I have a few.”  
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starkwlkr · 9 months ago
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i wait for you | sebastian vettel
part 1 part 2
this is the last part in this mini series!! thanks for reading <3 some lines are taken from the movie babylon :) (babylon, you will always be famous)
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!
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INSTAGRAM
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liked by sebastianvettel, aussiegrit and 766,388 others
yourusername hi, i would like to start by saying thank you for all the kind messages i’ve been receiving over the past couple days. this is my only account on any social media. i know it’s been years since you’ve heard from me so here’s an update:
as of last week, i am now divorced and living happier than ever. i do a lot of reading and baking. i still think about my time on the track and all the wonderful people i met.
until next time, take care.
comments on this post have been limited
TIME SKIP TO ABU DHABI 2022
you weren’t sure if you made the right decision, yet here you were in the aston martin garage about to watch sebastian’s last race. the aston martin team made sure photographers weren’t in your face with their cameras, which you thanked them for. yeah, your former job had paparazzi following you almost everywhere but you had gotten used to the quietness.
you hadn’t seen sebastian all day, it was killing you inside. you felt like this was a bad decision, but before you could leave the aston martin garage, you saw sebastian enter with britta by his side. you heard him speaking to her, but he stopped once he spotted you.
britta noticed the look sebastian gave you. it was like seeing two teenagers in love. “i’ll leave you two alone.” she said then left.
sebastian watched as you played with the ring on your finger. it was a habit he noticed in 2010 and somehow you never changed. “we can go in my driver’s room if you’d like. it’s more private.”
“yeah, i’d like that.” you reply. together, you and sebastian walked to his driver’s room.
several people from the aston martin team were secretly rooting for you two, it was clear that they knew about your history. even if they were big fans of you, they didn’t walk up to you to ask for a photo, not when you were with sebastian on the most important night of his life.
you finally made it to his driver’s room. it was small, but it was just perfect for you and sebastian to have a conversation in. you and sebastian sat on the tiny bed. “are you nervous?” you asked.
“more excited actually. it really is nice that you’re here. thank you for coming.” he said.
“i didn’t think you would want me here.”
“why?”
you looked at him. there he was staring at you with his beautiful blue eyes. “i thought you hated me all these years.”
“i could never hate you, y/n. i never stopped loving you even when you told me you were engaged, when i found out you said i do to someone else.” he confessed. “i’ve carried this love for you in my heart for many years. but you were happy.”
“i was happy . . then he broke my heart and i gave him the ring back.” you replied. “i realized I didn’t want that life with him . . . because i want that life with you and i know it all seems so sudden but it’s always been you.”
in that moment, seemed to stand still as he processed the weight of her words. he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of hope blossom within him—a hope that, against all odds, maybe, just maybe, they could finally be together.
you could feel a tear run down your cheek. “god, i’m sorry. i dumped all this on you before your last race—”
then she felt sebastian’s lips on hers. as their lips met, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.
for you, it was a revelation—a confirmation of the love you had always felt but never dared to acknowledge it. for sebastian, it was a homecoming—a return to the one person who had always held his heart captive, even when you belonged to another.
their moment had been interrupted by a knock on the door then by sebastian’s father, norbert vettel, asking if he was ready yet.
“i’ll be out in a second.” sebastian replied. he turned to look at you. “i am considering that a good luck kiss.”
“you don’t need luck, you’re sebastian vettel.” you playfully rolled your eyes.
“well whenever i’m with you, i always feel lucky.”
and with that, you and sebastian exited his driver’s room.
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SEB’S LAST RACE
you were feeling lots of emotions. you watched as sebastian finished his post race interview with jenson. you watched from a monitor inside the aston martin garage, you could see the sadness in sebastian’s eyes. you knew the feeling all too well.
“go meet him.” norbert said. “he needs you right now.”
“but—”
“go.” he assured you.
so you walked to the pit lane since sebastian was already making his way back to the garage. once he spotted you, he smiled. you made it clear that now you didn’t care if you were photographed, all you wanted was to be with sebastian.
“i really want to kiss you right now.” sebastian said when he walked up to you. many photographers and journalists were crowded around you, making sure to capture the moment between you two.
“then do it.”
and then, without another word, he pulled her in for a kiss. as his lips met yours, you felt a rush of warmth flood your entire being. as they finally pulled away, your eyes met in a silent understanding. sebastian took your hand and led you to back to the garage where his team was waiting for him.
“i’m so proud of you.” you whispered to him.
“you won’t be saying that when i’m bothering you constantly now that i’ll be around you more.” he joked.
“and i’ll be fine with that.” you reply with a smile.
sebastian turned to face you. he knew it was still early, but he always kept his promises. “one day, i’m going to marry you. i’m going to make you so happy everyday, okay? it’s my only job.”
hearing sebastian’s words filled you with a sense of comfort, joy and reassurance. you suddenly felt more alive and complete than ever before.
“i love you, more deeply than i ever thought possible.” you reply.
and suddenly, everything felt right in the world.
@woozarts @hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict @sam-is-lost @dampcelery0294 @shineforever19 @c-losur3 @lifeless-firefly @horsiegek @ares10156 @purplephantomwolf
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soobnny · 5 months ago
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dating him | kim seungmin
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❝ kiss me first ❞
chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | SEUNGMIN | jeongin
best friends to lovers type beat
it HAS to be
like seungmin doesn’t give me eager for love
i don’t think he’s ever rly prioritized it
that’s why it’s essential that this is a best friends to lovers love story
bc he would’ve had to fall in love in between the silence of friends
there isn’t even a light bulb moment
more of an “oh” moment really
like oh, i’ve fallen in love with my best friend
bc i think it takes A LOT for this boy to add romance in his life
he strikes me as the type that prioritizes his comfort and his routine
so he doesn’t fall in love easily
but turns out, he’s not so immune after all
seungmin has sudden urges to kiss u too
like woah 😂😂😂 let’s check the label first 😂😂😂😂
YEAH. BEST FRIENDS.
he couldn’t take it any longer tho
he asks u out and long story short
he’s ur boyfriend now
he doesn’t rly change much
seungmin is still a menace
this time he just gets to kiss you
he’s always comparing hand size with u
size kink much ?!!??
teases u bc ur hand is smaller than felix’s
and that boy’s hand … miniature
tbh i think it’s just an excuse to hold ur hand
but once he shows u his palms, u already know what’s up
either hold his hand or COMPARE
is 100% the type to hold ur hand in the pocket of his hoodie btw
his face is nonchalant the whole time
he does it when he notices ur hands r a little cold and trembling
it’s his attempt to warm ur hand up
i think his face is nonchalant bc it’s just natural to him
like he doesn’t think anything of it .. just him helping his partner so they don’t suffer
his favorite date with u would be karaoke dates
u know how in korea, they have karaokes where u can challenge other rooms
yeah u do that a lot
and when u start losing, u just whip out ur secret weapon
aka kim seungmin
what can u say
it’s all about winning
and u are a sore loser
seungmin ofc ends up winning it for u guys so u always get free food bc that’s the wager yall always bet on
he always lets u decide which food too
and if u rlly like the snack u’re betting on, he tries extra hard
(here’s a secret: he thinks of u when he sings love songs so that extra bit of emotion he uses while singing ? lowkey u’re still the reason u guys won)
another favorite date of seungmin’s is visiting dog shelters
you two have successfully named all the dogs in ur local dog shelter
u’d just visit from time to time to check on them and play with them
“hi fang!!!!! where’s ur sister and ur mother!!!! how about berry 2.0 and kkami wannabe!!!!”
eventually, you guys do adopt ur own puppy
he gets jealous at first bc now ur attention is divided
but then HIS attention gets divided
i think u two would be good dog parents
he would activate the puppy’s playful side
you’d swoop in when ur puppy is tired and u just wanna give them love and cuddles
he likes it when u refer to urselves as the parents of ur dog
also loves talking in 3rd person like “mom is mad at me today” to ur puppy
anyways moving on
his love language is for sure acts of service
would fold ur laundry for u
would do ur most hatest chore
he’d make u coffee the way u like in the morning
and it’s all just instinct to him again
like he just DOES it without being told to
HOWEVER
however ….
listen to me
if you ask him to do something for u
kim “kiss first” seungmin spawns
“seungmin, can you reach this for me?”
“kiss me first”
“seungmin, do u know where my shoes are?”
“kiss me first”
like DAMNNNNN taking advantage of the moment, i see
he enjoys it so much
he’d have his lips puckered, knees bent a little to ur height, and he waits
bc he knows u always do it
btw i think he has a secret instagram just full of photos of you ☹️☹️☹️☹️
he’d tell u he has a photography acc
little do u know, it’s just you all over
is that why he loves to bring his camera around in dates ?!?
unlimited supply of his hoodies #2
but unlike chan, he acts like it bothers him
he just likes riling u up
another way he riles up up is whispering dirty things to u in public bc he’s just a little shit like that
would be the type to say “make me”
and also “prove it”
likeeeeee…
have fun with that thought!
third favorite date is driving around
with his arm around your car seat or rested on your thigh 😊😊😊😊😊
i’m totally sane rn
is not above doing things in his car
u didn’t hear it from me
another hot thing he does are slight squeezes on ur thigh or tapping it to the beat of the music
UGHHGHHNGYNFNFNBGBBGBG
btw when U get to fluster him
he suddenly hugs u
and u’re like ?!!????
u try to look up at him but he presses ur face on his chest, his hand on the back of your head
it’s so u don’t see how red his face is
OR HIS EARS
so if he suddenly hugs u for no reason
you already know why
anyways
whatever
u two are each other’s biggest supporters
bc before u were together, u were best friends already
he knows u like the back of his hand
despite being a little shit, u know he’s in love with you
bc u hear him whisper it when he thinks u’re asleep
and he lets it slip out a lot when he’s tired or when he’s a little tipsy
and he holds u while u sleep and kisses you and comforts u
he rly does love u a lot and cares for u
sometimes i think u’d have arguments just bc he cares about u too much
like u could’ve put ur health at risk
and he isn’t all about that
anyways seungmin doesn’t need to be grand and showy about it for u to know
sometimes, all that matters is what happens behind the scenes
seungmin best boy
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note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 9 months ago
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It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 4 ] || [ Chapter 6 ]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ tags: a little bit of angst in this one, mentions of infidelity, also, Price is divorced. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
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Chapter 5: GET LAID?
[The scolding Price gives is fully inspired by Captain Holt from B99]
“YOU. DID. WHAT?!” Price’s voice was so loud it bounced off the walls and Soap could swear the door was rattling.
The environment inside of Price’s tiny little office was beyond tense. Gaz sat across from Price on the arm chair, with his hands clasped over his lap. Soap stood beside him, hands on the back of the other chair, constantly shuffling and readjusting. And Ghost was all the way in the back of the room, arms crossed and one foot scuffing up the wall he was leaning against.
They looked like a group of kids at the headmaster’s office, getting the reaming of a century and waiting for their parents to come get them, only to get reamed out some more by them. Except they’re grown adults and Price is, in a way, both the headmaster and their father.
Granted, they probably should’ve waited until tomorrow morning when they’re not all a bit buzzed from one too many beers…  It seemed tonight was just one of those nights where they have little to no restraint… and are incapable to be reasoned with.
“If it’s any consolation, I told them you wouldn’t be too keen on 'em buttin' in your life.” Ghost spoke up while dipping his head to the side in a lazy shrug.
This earned him a sharp look from Price, who swivelled on his executive chair, turning a bit to properly face Ghost. The man looked seconds away from blowing up, eyes widened and wild.
“And yet you still HELPED 'EM?!” The Captain scolded him, to which Simon replied with a full shrug.
“They made a compelling case. You’ve been insufferable, boss.” He remarked, causing Price to sputter a bit.
“I didn’t wanna say anything, but it’s true, Captain. You need to get laid.” Soap jumped in.
His hackles raised and he stood up, slamming his hands on the desk, causing a rattling in the white mug he used as a pen holder. Gaz couldn’t help but wonder if the Captain didn’t hurt his palms.
“GET LAID?!” Price shouted in a tone almost akin to panic. “MY LOVE LIFE IS NONE OF YOUR CONCERN!” Price scolded them all, rausing a hand and pointing his finger at no one in particular. 
“AND I WOULDN’T BE SO INSUFFERABLE IF YOU LOT DID YOUR JOBS. BUT NO, I’M HAVING TO FIX YOUR MESSES AND DEAL WITH ALL THIS BULLSHIT!” He shouted as he ran his hand over a pile of documents on the edge of his desk, sending them all flying to the floor.
None of the lads shook in the face of the Captain’s shouts. They were all used to it, having heard enough of them from other C.O.s in their careers and, especially, more than enough from John in the last year.
Price huffed through his nose and hung his head for a moment. Then, he tossed himself back in his chair, leaning it back and grumbling under his breath.
He sat with his legs parted, left arm over the desk top, the right one hanging limply over his lap. He grumbled under his breath, his mustache scrunching a bit as he raised his right hand to rub his eyes.
“Bloody fuckin’ hell…” Price grumbled and swiveled his chair back toward the desk, inadvertently toward Soap and Gaz as well, setting his elbows on either side of the black desk mat.
He held his head up with both hands, his blue eyes sliding downward to the phone they had set in front of him when explaining what they did, which now sat between his elbows. 
In it was the Tinder profile they had created, the gimmicky, silly little shite that includes grainy photos of him and a bio written in the 3rd person. What impressed him was the fact that somehow, despite only having been active for an hour, according to them, the account had already seen about 35 likes and a handful of DMs from people.
Most of them were curious about the bio, some of them asking a variation of ‘Does John know you made this account?’, etc.
However, it bothered him that they did this behind his back, never once stopping to ask if he needed or wanted their help (AND HE DIDN’T). “You need to delete this.” He ended up saying after a moment of silence.
He grabbed the phone and set it on the edge of his desk to be taken by either Gaz or Soap, with a bit more aggression than he meant to. “Deactivate it, whatever.” He added.
“But, sir-” Soap tried to say, being shushed by Price raising a hand to signal him to quiet down.
“No buts.” He said directly as he raised his head and glared right at Soap. “And you need to tell that person that you already promised a date to that I’m not interested and APOLOGIZE for leading them on.” He ordered.
“Boss… C’mon.” Ghost called for him from his corner, causing John’s head to slowly turn to face him, eyebrows scrunched when he noticed the gaze Simon was sending him.
Cursed be Simon Riley, the only tosser in the entire SAS other than MacMillan, who can read John like the open book that he prides himself in not being.
But of course Simon knows why he’s so reluctant. He was there 5 years ago… when Price called him from his car in a side road somewhere, so drunk that his words were more so obscene slurs than words themselves, spewing mentions of loss and betrayal and a visceral need to cave a man’s face in, of emptying magazine after magazine on his wife’s lover’s body.
Simon went to get him, took the man home to his own shitty little flat, let him sleep off the inebriation in his bed, looked after him just in case he’d choke on his own drunken vomit, and the next afternoon, when Price was more himself, he drove Price to his marital home and helped him pack his bags.
Price stayed at his apartment for almost 6 months before getting his own place. Not that Ghost minded. Returning to the barracks was embarrassing for the Captain… And getting his own place required time and patience, which Price was lacking. 
Eventually, Price signed the divorce papers, the matter was settled, and Price went on leave. Ghost took his as well and helped him settle into a flat, helped him assemble furniture, brought him meals.
Then started Price’s fuckboy era. Which is how Gaz and Soap heard of his proclivity to hook up with people. Gender didn’t matter, so much as getting momentary satisfaction and some of the shadows out of his bones. 
Then, Graves and Shepherd happened… And Price cut it cold turkey. He was pent up. Point blank. Went from getting regular satisfaction to getting nothing and burying himself in his work. Blaming himself for not noticing the signs earlier.
Sometimes Ghost wondered if the man was going through a mid-life crisis.
“You could use it, boss.” Ghost added as he looked Price right in the eyes. “What’s one night, huh? Just going for a drink with them?”
“Simon-” Price tried arguing.
“Please, sir. We promise you’ll like ‘em.” Gaz pleaded. 
“Yeah, sir, we all talked with ‘em and they’re a right laugh.” Soap added.
Taking a deep breath, John leaned back on his chair again and threw his hands in the air again.
“Alright.” He conceded. “BUT!” He interrupted them before they got too giddy. “None of this… Tinder shite.” He gestured vaguely to the phone at the edge of the desk.
“You set up a meet-up this Friday at a pub nearby. No more after that.” He ordered.
“On it!” Gaz said as he snatched the phone from the desk to dm you.
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badbtssmut · 4 months ago
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Reckless and sweet
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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
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“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."
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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.
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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.
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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…
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“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.
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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.
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“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.
982 notes · View notes
baptismbaby · 5 months ago
Text
⚘. ANYTHING
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ex!ellie x reader
summary: it’s been years since you broke up with ellie. the last time you saw her was at graduation. you’ve completely moved on and you’re going on dates here and there with different women. but after running into ellie, you’re feeling conflicted as old feelings start resurfacing.
note: a continuation of LADWABAYD, just set many years later. i know i said I didn’t want to add more because i wanted to leave it up to interpretation. buuuut… i felt like adding more. listen to anything by adrianne lenker
warnings: slightly angsty, fingering (r!receiving), thigh riding sorta
You took a sip of your coffee as your date, Sarah, was showing you pictures of her dogs. She kept having to set the phone down to push her short, reddish brown hair out of her face. “Sorry,” she apologized once again. “I’m not used to having it so short.”
You hummed a response and smiled at her. “Don’t be sorry.”
“Do you like it by the way? You haven’t said anything about it.”
“Well, it definitely caught me by surprise but I think it looks nice.”
“Thanks,” she said as her cheeks slowly turned pink. “I remembered on our last date that you said you always liked short hair.”
“Is that why you cut it?” you asked.
“Yeah, is… that okay?”
“I mean, do you like it?”
She shrugged. “It’s different but I do like it, I think.”
“That’s all that matters, then.”
You smiled once again and began to drown her voice out as she picked her phone back up to show you more pictures of her dogs. How strange, you thought, this is only your third date with her and already she’s changing herself for you. You almost felt bad, considering you decided this was the last date you’d go on with her. You already knew you didn’t want to see her again but plans were already made. You would’ve felt crappy calling it off or standing her up. Your plan was to act as disinterested as possible, fake a concerning text from Dina (which was scheduled to be sent any minute now), then tell her tomorrow you’d think it’d be best due to the “circumstances” that you stop seeing her. Sure, it was evil, but you knew you weren’t a match for her. You were certain there was someone else out there who’d love to see the same photos of her dogs and hear about how her ex boyfriend sucked.
Suddenly, your phone dinged, and you fought back a sigh of relief. You looked at your phone and gasped at the stupid meme Dina sent you.
“What is it?” asked Sarah.
“Dina… she… just texted me and um… fuck, I’m so sorry. Sarah, I have to go,” you blurted out as you stood up and yanked your purse from the back of the chair.
“Oh no! Is she okay?”
“I’m not sure, I’m about to go find out.”
“Okay, sure. I’ll text you later to check in on you.”
“Thank you. Sorry, Sarah. Bye!”
You rushed out before she could say anything else, ignoring the sick feeling that settled in your stomach. You were certain that there was an easier way to “break up” with her, but she was too nice. You got in your car and sped off, slowing down once the cafe was out of view. You couldn’t wait to get home, shower, and spend the rest of the day lounging around doing a whole lot of nothing. But first, you wanted to stop by the gas station to get a few snacks.
-
You pulled up to the gas station and hopped out, walking inside and greeting the cashier. As you wandered towards the aisles, a familiar figure caught your eye. You turned to look and saw a girl looking at the drinks. You stood there, watching her as your heart sped up. There was no way it was who you thought it was. You were obviously confusing her for her and it’s really some stranger. She opened one of the fridges and grabbed her favorite drink, and once you caught a glimpse of her tattoo, it was already too late to leave. She had turned around and made eye contact with you. You felt your heart sink as your breathing slowed to a stop. “Ellie,” you whispered.
“H-hey,” she breathed out. She slowly stepped towards you and you did the same until the gap between the two of you was closed. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Me neither.”
Ellie’s eyes traveled down to your lips, then down to your clothes then back up. “You dressed up to go to the gas station?” she joked. You chuckled a little bit and studied her outfit, which was sweatpants and a grey shirt.
“I see you did the same,” you shot back.
“Pft, yeah.”
The both of you stood there silently, awkwardly smiling at each other and waiting for someone to speak up.
“So… how have you been?”
“I’ve been okay. Just… working, you know. How about you, Ellie?”
“Same,” she responded. “Dina told me you work in that building by that um… one restaurant we always used to go to.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You like working there?”
“Mhm. It’s nice, clean, and the pay is good,” you said.
“Great, I’m glad.”
The pain in your chest was almost becoming unbearable. She looked beautiful, even in her worn out clothes, and looking in her eyes made you want to cry. It had been awhile since you’ve felt this familiar pain. In a weird way, you almost missed it. But you’ve forgotten how to keep it inside. You felt tears threaten to spill and fall down your cheeks. You blinked them away and took a deep breath.
“I should let you go,” you mumbled. “It, um, it was really nice seeing you, Ellie.”
“It was nice seeing you too.”
She said goodbye and walked past you. Her scent filled your nose and you shut your eyes, taking it in as you fought hard to not cry. You walked into the aisle and picked up a bag of powdered donuts and headed towards the counter as she walked out. You watched Ellie through the glass window, smiling to yourself when she glanced back at you. She got in her car and drove away.
-
You couldn’t sleep. Ever since you saw Ellie a few days ago, you couldn’t stop thinking about her and it kept you up. You glanced at your phone and sighed. It was two a.m. and you had to go to work at six. You decided you were gonna call off. You needed an extra day to relax and try to rid your thoughts of Ellie. That day, you called Dina sobbing. Dina came over and comforted you and assured you that your pain was valid. She also filled you in on everything going on in Ellie’s life. She was working just outside of town and spent her days off writing songs or visiting Joel at his farm. She told you that Ellie had texted her about you two running into each other, and that she decided to spend a few days at Joel’s to clear her head. “She’s grown a lot,” Dina’s words rang through your head. “If you want to contact her, it’s okay.”
You typed in her number, shocked that you still had it memorized, and sent a quick text.
Hey, is this Ellie?
You set your phone down with a sigh. You almost felt stupid for texting her, especially since it was almost the middle of the night. Now you for sure won’t get any sleep because you were too nervous waiting for a response and she definitely had to be asleep already. You shut your eyes anyway, trying to force yourself to get drowsy when suddenly your phone dinged. You reached over and picked it up, your heart fluttering when you saw the text.
Hey you
I’m sorry for texting you so late…
Don’t be sorry, you know I don’t mind
I know I know
So what’s up?
Honestly nothing
I really just wanted to talk to you
Me too:)
You smiled. As you were typing a response, your phone rang. It was Ellie. You hesitated before answering and slowly brought it to your ear. “Hello,” you said, although it sounded more like a question.
“Sorry, I just wanted to hear your voice.”
Once again you could feel your heart fluttering as your cheeks burned. “Don’t be sorry, Ellie. I… wanted to hear your voice too.”
Ellie breathed out in relief and chuckled. “Can’t sleep?”
“No. I’m guessing you can’t either?”
“Nope, I’m wide awake.”
You giggled and rolled over on your side, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on the pillow next to you.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” said Ellie in a low voice.
“Me neither.”
“Ever since I saw you, I’ve been thinking about everything that happened in the end.”
“Ellie,” you almost whined. “Let’s not… talk about that. Over the phone, I mean.”
“Yeah, you’re right… we should talk about it in person,” agreed Ellie.
You bit your lip as you thought about what to say. Would it be too weird to invite her over now, in the middle of the night? Or would that come off as desperate? Before you could say anything, Ellie spoke up. “If you want, I could come over so we can talk about it.”
“Y-Yeah, yeah that’s fine. I’ll text you my address.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit, then. Bye.”
“Bye, Ellie.”
After she hung up the phone, you sent her your address.
You’re pretty close. I’m at Joel’s rn and I have to put clothes on. Be there in about 20 mins
You quickly hopped out of bed and opened up your drawer, grabbing a pair of pajama pants and shoving them on. You headed into your bathroom and turned the light on. You brushed your fingers through your hair until it looked decent. You scoffed at the sight of bags under your eyes. Oh well, you thought. It’s not like Ellie would care. You left the bathroom and checked yourself out in the full body mirror, pulling down on your tank top a bit while you turned slightly to make sure there were no stains on your pajama pants. You walked out your room and sat down on the couch, your eyes watching the door intently. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You didn’t think you and Ellie would talk about the past so soon, let alone hang out. You hoped you could stay strong and not embarrass yourself in front of her. You really were over it and you didn’t know what else could be said about everything. But deep down you knew you never got over her. You haven’t been in a relationship since, you always found an excuse to break it off with a girl you were seeing, and you definitely had a type. They all had at least one similar feature of Ellie, whether it was freckles, their hair length, eyes, etc. You wondered if she did the same as you.
A knock at the door made you flinch and ripped you out of your thoughts. You got up and unlocked the door, slowly opening it to see Ellie in an old band shirt and some jeans.
“Ellie,” you greeted. “Come in.”
“Hey, sorry if I took too long. Couldn’t find a clean shirt. Borrowed one of Joel’s.”
“It’s fine, you aren’t late. How’s Joel doing?”
You shut the door behind Ellie, following her as she made her way to the couch. She didn’t sit and stood there, looking around at all the decorations you had up. “He’s good. All he does is tend to his farm and watch westerns all day,” she said with a chuckle.
“Ah, so the same thing he’s been doing for the past ten years?”
“Pretty much.”
Ellie sat down on the couch and you did the same, sitting on the other end. “And how are you?”
“The same, how about you?”
“Also the same,” you replied.
“Good.”
You could hear your heart beating in your chest. For a second, you felt embarrassed as if Ellie could hear it too.
“Ever since I saw you the other day, I’ve actually been… I don’t know. I feel strange.”
“How so?” you asked.
“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, about… us,” she shook her head and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “About how I fucked up,” she muttered.
“Yeah…”
“I never took accountability for the shit I did. I was an idiot for cheating on you with Lila.”
“Ellie… it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. It wasn’t fair to you and I never got to truly say how sorry I was. I want us to have a fresh start if we’re back in each other’s lives again.”
“I appreciate it, Ellie. And I forgive you. Hell, I forgave you years ago.”
“I never forgave myself,” she whispered. “You’ve been on my mind since the day you left my dorm for the last time.”
You furrowed your brows and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back into the cushions as you focused on Ellie and her words.
“I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel sorry but… just to fill you in on what has happened since everything. I hated myself for a long time. I don’t think I stopped hating myself until a year after graduation. Even then, I didn’t feel worthy enough of anything. I’ve tried going on a few dates but it wasn’t the same. So I gave up on all that. I chose to work on myself instead. Sure, there were a few times I was interested in seeing a girl but I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t…” she trailed off, her eyes wandering away from you and down to the floor.
“I’ve tried going on dates too,” you mumbled. “Actually, the other day… I was on one and made Dina text me so I could get out of it. I don’t go on many dates but I do it every time. Whether I’m interested or not, I come up with an excuse to not be with them. I know it’s horrible. I just can’t do it.”
“Is it because of me?” questioned Ellie. You sent her a sad smile and shrugged.
“It was at first. I mean, it still is but for different reasons. They aren’t you.”
“Remember when I told you that I would never stop trying to make things right?”
You nodded.
“I want you to know, I only stopped because I… love you and knew you didn’t want me anymore. I stopped out of respect for you.”
You were silent. You allowed Ellie’s confession to hang in the air and it felt as if it was surrounding you, ready to swallow you whole. You took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. You cleared your throat in hopes the tightness would go away but it didn't. “I've always wanted you, Ellie,” you uttered, your voice cracking when you said her name. “Even when you cheated on me. All I ever wanted was you. It wasn't just the act of you cheating that made me leave, but also I believed I wasn't enough and… I loved you and respected you enough to let you go. Find someone else who could fill everything I left empty.”
You looked up at Ellie as a tear slid down her cheek. She sniffled and brushed it away quickly, sitting up straight and scooting closer to you. You did the same until your knee barely brushed hers.
“You were always enough for me,” said Ellie. “I was a fucking idiot. I'm sorry I made you feel like you weren't enough. You always were enough.”
“Fuck,” you breathed. “I… wasn't expecting the conversation to go like this.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't, Ellie. It's fine. We needed this.”
You raised your head to meet her gaze and immediately felt calm. She looked so beautiful with her tear filled eyes and her pouty lips. How was it that so much time had passed and yet you still love her as much as you did before, despite everything? You believed her apology, you believed Dina’s words that vouched for her, and you started to believe one day, the two of you could try again. It was too soon. She was a stranger to you now and you were a stranger to her. And yet, you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward just to steal a kiss.
Her lips met yours finally, the two of you breathing in harshly at the contact. It was gentle at first, almost hesitant, until she placed her hand on your cheek. You deepened the kiss by wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her closer. Without thinking, you lifted yourself up and over her thighs to sit in her lap. Her hands found themselves at your waist, gripping tightly as if Ellie was scared you'd pull away and never kiss her again. She picked you up and began to walk blindly until your back touched the wall. She pulled away for a brief second to pull your tank top over your head. You lifted your arms to help her remove it and watched her throw it behind her. Ellie let out a soft moan at the sight of your breasts.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. Her hands cupped your tits as her lips peppered kisses down your neck. You let out a whine, running your fingers through her hair and tugging the strands. She staggered away from the wall and glanced through the nearest door frame to make sure it was your room. As soon as she saw your bed, she carried you inside and laid you down on the mattress. You stared up at her in awe as she yanked her shirt up over her head, unbuckling her jeans and pulling it down along with her panties. You quickly shoved your pajama pants off and threw it to the side. She crawled on top of you, stopping every few seconds to plant kisses along your exposed skin. Your breath grew shallow as her fingers slowly crept up towards your pussy. She used her pointer finger to gently apply pressure to your clit, grinning when your body jolted from the feeling.
“I missed this, baby,” she cooed. “Did you miss me?”
“Mhm,” you whimpered.
Ellie finally stuck a finger inside you. You moaned out her name and gripped the sheets. “E-Ellie,” you whined. “Fuck, I missed you!”
“I know, sweetheart.”
She replaced her finger with her middle and third and brought herself up so she was hovering over you face to face. Ellie kept a steady, painfully slow pace, carefully watching your face twist in pleasure. She didn't want to miss anything, afraid this would be the last time she got to make you feel good, and wanted to make it last as long as possible. She kissed you again, this time slipping her tongue between your lips and circling it around yours. As the kiss grew more passionate, the speed of her fingers increased. Your moans filled her mouth as her thumb brushed against your clit, her fingers curling up inside you and hitting your g spot. It had been too long since you had sex with her and since you did anything to yourself. You could already feel pressure building up in your lower stomach. You pulled away from the kiss and began speaking frantically.
“Wait, wait, wait, Ellie, I-I’m close and I-I don't wanna cum yet,” you begged. Ellie removed her fingers from inside you and brought them to her lips, sucking them off and moaning at the taste of you.
“My sweet girl,” Ellie whispered.
“Ellie…”
Ellie placed a knee against your cunt and used her hand to guide your hips up and down. “You like that, baby? Think you'll last longer with this?”
“Mhm,” you responded.
“Good… just like that, honey. Don't stop.”
She reached down to lift your leg up so she could grind herself onto your thigh. She breathed in harshly at the contact, letting out a soft groan and squeezing her eyes shut. “F-Fuck,” she hissed.
Within minutes, both of you had sped up the movement of your hips. The room was filled with obscene noises spilling out from both you and Ellie’s lips. You tried your best to remain eye contact with Ellie, the intimate act only making you get wetter.
“E-Ellie,” you moaned. “I… I love you, y’know th-that?”
“I know,” she breathed. “I love you t-too.”
Ellie’s breath became jagged as she grew closer. You could feel once again in the pit of your stomach that you were close too. The movement of your hips became sloppy from desperation. All you could focus on was Ellie and your need to cum. Your whining had raised in volume as the feeling got stronger. Within seconds, both you and Ellie’s bodies began to convulse as an orgasm took both of you over. Ellie buried her face in your neck, your nails digging into her shoulders. Once it was over, Ellie collapsed onto you and rested her head onto your chest.
You fought to catch your breath as you stared off into space, shocked that this had happened. You never thought you'd see her or fuck her again. But for the first time in years, you genuinely felt happy and whole. You knew you couldn't give Ellie up but you also knew the two of you had to refrain from doing this again. You had to get to know her all over again, as did Ellie with you. You were alright with that, partially scared, but it was worth it. But that was a conversation for another time. Anything, as long as it meant having Ellie back in your life.
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jj-one · 4 months ago
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ೀ⋆ HOW COULD YOU BE SO RECKLESS WITH MY HEART ?!
[ . . . when they find out you were cheating on them ]
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this is smut, do not interact if under 18
pairing: skz x fem!reader, established relationship genre/tags: smut, angst, crying, begging, punishments, spanking, oral (m & f receiving), choking, manhandling, heavy degradation, humiliation, cuckolding, recording/taking photos (?), voyeurism, piv, rough sex (lmk if i missed anything else!) words: 5.9k
[ note. ] heyyy, i’m back >:3 there’s no explanation for this other than i love angst and whenever i see cheating fics it’s never the reader cheating on them so i wanted to be messy and do this sjhgsjsk, i’m in no way endorsing this type of behavior— it’s for fictional purposes only !!
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𖥔 ݁ ˖ Bang Chan
He didn’t know who he was more angry with, you or the son of a bitch who attempted even sliding in your DMs. The fact you accepted the prick’s message and entertained his flirtatious advances tipped him off the edge even further. It didn’t matter if you had zero intention on meeting up or not, it was the principle of it all, though it may not have been physical, emotional cheating still counts as cheating in his book. He felt beyond disrespected by what you did— had the roles been reversed and you found out he was texting other women in such a nature, there’d be hell to pay on his side within a heartbeat. He couldn’t focus much in the studio with a million thoughts burdening his mind, a sudden wave of insecurities come flooding in— was he simply not good enough for you? The realization of you talking to another guy made him feel sick to his stomach, he needed to address it with you before all this anxiety eats him to the core.
“Channie baby!” You rush towards him with open arms when he arrives back home, his black t-shirt felt slightly damp from the rain. “Did you walk home? You’re soaked! I can run you a warm bath an-”
“Nah, I’m good actually.” Chan quickly cuts you off, walking towards the kitchen. He didn’t bother to hug you back when you attempted to either, this was so unlike him which causes you to question his dodgy behavior in more detail.
“Long day at work huh?” You pry some more, doing anything you can to get him to say something.
“Yeah, guess you could say that.” He shrugs, still unbothered by your overall presence. That’s when you decide to come out with it and stop settling for his little mind games.
“Seriously, what’s up with you? Why is it whenever you have a problem you never want to talk it out? You’re always so reclusive and that’s what drives me away so much!” That last part didn’t mean to slip out but sometimes it’s good to hear harsh critique from your partner.
“Oh so that’s what it is? Me being gone for so long makes you wanna fuck around and go talking to other guys for fun? You’re not as sneaky as you think y/n, I know everything you do behind my back.” Chan was more than pissed at this point, he was livid, this was the highest level of betrayal you could achieve. There was no witty rebuttal you could come up with this time, only true remorse for your actions, it didn’t hit you until now that you he considers you as a cheater.
“Ch-channie, you know I w-wouldn’t do anything to hurt you… swear on my life! Just wanna make you happy.” You croak, being falsely accused of something you’re not was devastating— especially coming from him.
“You want to know what’ll make me happy then?” Chan’s voice gets lower, creeping his hands up around your neck. You look up in curiosity with big doe eyes, “W-what?”
“Get on your knees and let me use your face as my personal cum rag, then maybe, just maybe I’ll even consider giving you the satisfaction of my humble forgiveness. That’s only if I’m pleased with how well you take my cock in that whorish mouth of yours.” His merciless demands sent shivers through your body, but you comply to his order, willing to do anything he asks to mend your wrongdoings.
As your legs coil down to land on your knees, you come face to face with the outline of his cock through his gray sweatpants. You immediately went in to palm his erection but he angrily swats you away, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, always so eager to touch someone’s cock, so fucking dirty.. M’gonna teach you a little lesson on what happens to sluts like you, only thinking about dick, that’s all that lives in your mind huh?” He continues to taunt you, belittle you like you were nothing. In retrospect this was supposed to be a “punishment” however, you were enjoying every minute of it. His hand travels up to your chin, propping your face up slightly, grazing his fingers over your bottom lip— noticing a few tears well up in the corner of your eyes.
“Yeah, cry as much as you want honey, it’s not going to get you anywhere here. I’ll just use them as lube to make the pain less prominent for you while you take me further down your throat. You’re gonna wish you had never fucking tried some shit like that again sweetheart.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Lee Know
“Minho, please it’s not what you thi-”
“Oh cut the fucking sob story and save the crocodile tears y/n! I know what I fucking saw, I’m not going to let you gaslight me into this one again.” Minho spat harshly, looking at you as if you were scum beneath him.
You know you fucked up royally, you know this is probably the end of your relationship but at this point you had nothing left to lose; doing everything you could to salvage any bit of sympathy out of him.
“It was just a kiss, it didn’t mean anything I swear! Wooyoung came onto me first!” You weren’t helping your case much, the fact you were still blaming everyone but yourself was astounding to Minho.
“And where’s your accountability in all this huh? You really expect me to believe that he coerced you into making out with him and not a single thought about you having a boyfriend crossed your mind? Must’ve thought I was born yesterday or some shit.” Minho expresses with utter disgust, “did you enjoy kissing that fucking bastard? Was he better at it than me? How many other guys have you sucked face with while I was gone? I bet you there’s so many you can’t even count, can’t believe I wasted all my time with someone as shameless as you are.” His degrading words were more than deserving, you kissed one of his friends and now that he’s found out he’s going to make you pay in a less than permissive way.
Heavy streams of tears roll down your cheeks as you mewl out in pain mixed with ample pleasure, crying out to Minho as he leaves several brute spankings to your rear, leaving your body in a beautifully bruised red state. “Nnngh!” You’d whine as his hand produces another harsh smack to your ass, hips involuntarily jolting forward from the sudden unexpected impact.
“That’s number 23 so far, almost halfway to 50.” He snickered, kneading the overly sensitive flesh. “Better be lucky this is just my hand and not a belt.” After a while of toying with you, it didn’t take long for him to get bored of that idea. Instead, he shifts you on your back now— ordering you to spread your legs far out for him. His hot breath permeating chills down your body, as he inches closer to your face, his lips brushed against yours causing you to pucker but he pulls away.
“Tch, you really think I’m gonna kiss that filthy mouth of yours? You’re gonna have to wash it out with soap before I even think of doing some shit like that.”
More tears fall out as you bear his cruel words, though what you did was morally flawed, his unrelenting demeanor was enough to scare you out of ever thinking of wanting another man. You kept profusely apologizing over and over again, repeating the same lines like a broken record, it was highly pathetic of you; he even chuckled at your sad efforts to be forgiven.
“You keep on saying you’re sorry yet I don’t believe a single word you say.” He cocks his head to the side in amusement, “I just wonder if this was your plan to begin with, to get me all hot and bothered over you. Was this all worth it for you? Seeing me worked up like this? You truly are a sick, twisted individual.” You nervously gulp at his harsh tone, pondering the vicious grin that’s plastered on his face. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what’s soon to come.
“Want to act like a whore then you’ll get treated as such. I’m gonna relish in the fact that I have full control over you, I’m going to enjoy edging you until you can’t physically take it anymore. You can scream and shout to your hearts fullest content but I’ll drown out every bit of it, I’m going to give you pure hell all night.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Changbin
What you had with Changbin was toxic yet you couldn’t seem to escape his hold no matter how hard you tried. When he gets jealous he turns into an absolute menace when in bed with you, as if something otherworldly possessed him to act in such a way. Sex with him is great, almost too good to be true at times, but when he gets angry it’s filled with even more hasty passion— you can’t get enough of it. Your relationship over the course of 8 months have been nothing but turbulent, breaking up and getting back together constantly since you two butt heads a lot, he’s got a stubborn attitude and your smart mouth combined with that is a disaster waiting to spew. But when you’re both on a “break” you still can’t stay away from each other, even if you go around seeing other people you find yourself in Changbin’s bed every night, acting as if you weren’t just telling him to fuck off earlier.
“I heard from one of the guys you fucked Chan, if you’re gonna be a cheating skank at least don’t choose one of my friends.” He gripes, the judgmental glare he’s giving you left you with clear discomfort.
“What is to you if I did fuck him anyway? We’re not even together right now, you have no room to even be upset with me!” You spoke defensively, trying not to let him think his insults were getting to you.
He rolls his eyes in response, he wasn’t having any of it. If it was anyone else but Chan he probably wouldn’t have been as mad, but you went too far this time and now he’s going to show who has true ownership over you.
“You’re just never satisfied with having only guy in your life, always wanting more ‘cause you’re such a greedy little pup. This is why we don’t work out, you’re so easy to move on to the next guy who shows you any slightest bit of attention.” You shook your head at his statement but as his hands wrap the base of your neck, your body stills its movement.
Changbin snickers at your daring courage to challenge him, he ought to remind you that he is the only one you come home to at night, not all those other pieces of shit that just use you to bust a quick nut.
“I don’t like to fucking share what’s mine, you come here every single day to fuck and you still mess around with other guys? The fuck is wrong with you?” The bass in his voice grew deeper as he continued interrogating with questions, “Why would you need anyone else when I’m right here y/n? Are you really that much of a whore you need to get dick from my own goddamn friends? Just when I think you couldn’t go any lower, you pull this shitty stunt on me…”
Truth be told, you have no idea why you did it. Maybe he’s right, you secretly liked the adrenaline of the attention Chan gave you in that moment. You craved the same feeling from Changbin, except he was never emotionally available, he always seemed mentally drained by the relationship. This was the first time in months you’ve seen him act out of his usual nonchalant manner.
“I know you’re upset with me… but please be reasonable. We were— still are on a break, cut me some slack Bin, I’m sorry if I-”
“Fuck an apology. I don’t care enough to accept such bullshit from you anyway.” An apology meant nothing to him, the only thing he wanted was to make you writhe under his touch and wipe out all the memories of Chan from your brain. The strong grip he’s held against your neck tightens as he slams you into the wall behind, biting his lip at the sight of your disgruntled expression.
“Can Chan make you cum as hard with his fingers like I do? Can he make you a drooling mess while having you shaking and sobbing all over my cock? I bet he can’t give you the most mind blowing orgasms like my mouth does, he doesn’t understand your body like I do, no one ever will. I’m the only one that gets to touch you, please you, fuck you— you belong to me. Know your place and tread lightly darling, never forget that.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Hyunjin
It all started when he noticed you getting a little too close with Felix, the way you’d drag out a laugh even if what he said wasn’t that funny, to how you stare into his gaze for far too long while fluttering your eyelashes. Though your gestures were subtle, it didn’t take much for Felix to become a blushy and flustered mess from you being a natural flirt, he never knew how to react since Hyunjin, your boyfriend of almost 2 years, was standing right there. Oddly enough though, Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind it all, in fact it was doing the complete opposite, he was getting slowly turned on by the idea of you hitting on his friends in front of him.
Then the scenarios of you hooking up with Felix became more vivid, he’d think about it constantly throughout the day. It got so bad to a point where it was all he could think about when the three of you were together, he couldn’t shake off the idea anymore— he had to finally act upon it.
“I want you to have sex with Felix in front of me.” Hyunjin proposed randomly to you while watching a movie.
You almost choked on your popcorn as he said that, completely caught off guard by his unexpected statement.
“You want me to what?” You reiterate, still trying to process what he just said, this was seemingly random coming from him and he’s never shown any interest in this kind of topic before.
“Look, I know this is probably weird to you but I’ve been having these fantasies lately…” he slowly trails off but eventually continues, “I think about you cheating on me with Felix a lot, but I- I find it really hot for some reason.”
You couldn’t seem to wrap your head around what he was saying, none of it made sense to you but if this was something he’s expressing interest in then maybe it won’t be so bad to try it.
“So… let me get this straight, you want me to sleep with your best friend and you’re completely okay with it?”
Hyunjin nods in agreement, “pretty much yeah.”
The fact he barely hesitated made you even more uneasy, he must have been thinking about this for a while. Since the whole point of his fantasy was to feel like you were cheating on him, he wanted you make the first move on Felix, to gauge his reaction and test the waters first. By doing so, you’d amp up your flirtatious banter with him— making him even more of a flustered mess than he already is. Hyunjin seemed to be enjoying everything so far, watching you from across the table, acting as a simple bystander. Little did Felix know what was about to ensue a few hours later.
“Fuck yes! Just like that Lix, keep going- mmpfh!” You moan out in pleasure from Felix’s cock hitting all the right spots inside. Your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place as he plunged deeper into your walls. He’s not sure not how he got into this situation but the way your pussy clenches around his girth makes his brain short circuit for a second. Your juices continuously gush out onto him as he keeps up a steady pace, pounding into you like no tomorrow.
“God this cunt feels amazing…” he grunts, throwing his head back at the feeling of you swallowing him whole. He almost forgot that Hyunjin was sitting in the corner of the room, observing all of this in amusement. Hyunjin knew he was a total cuck for doing this, letting his own best friend have his way with you and not do a single thing about it, that was the fun in all of it though; he never realized how much he loved you cheating on him. His cock twitched from the sight of you getting fucked by another man, it left him with a sense of inferiority but in a turned on, masochist kind of way. Hyunjin couldn’t help but encourage it, he was probably getting the most gratification out of this.
“So fucking dirty… you like having someone else’s cock fill you up while I watch? Always knew you were such a naughty girl, nothing but a hole for anyone to stretch, you take Lixie so well too. You sure you’ve never cheated on me before in the past? You seem to be enjoying this a little too much.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Han Jisung
As if today couldn’t get any fucking worse, Han was infuriated when he found out you’ve been sexting other guys, he know it’s inherently wrong to be snooping through your phone while you’re not looking— but being the overly protective boyfriend he is he just can’t help it. When he saw all the messages of you talking to those guys the same exact way you talk to him privately, he felt his vision almost go black. He couldn’t wrap his conscience around the idea of the person he once thought was going to spend all of eternity with could stab in the back like this and betray him in such a vile way. It wasn’t easy for him to accept the truth of your cheating habits, Han was in complete denial himself.
He was more so disgusted with the fact those men thought they even stood a chance with you, there’s no way in hell he’d even let you anyone touch or come near you. Sadly, his entire world revolved around the sole purpose of keeping you happy, he’d rather die than have you out of his life. Even if that meant turning a blind eye and allowing you to continue with this unacceptable behavior. All he wanted was some simple answers, he just wants to understand why you’d do something like this in the first place.
“Just tell me where I’m going wrong babe, please. Tell me and I’ll fix it. We can work through this, just don’t leave me baby. You’re all I have, I can’t lose you too… please, I’m not ready to give up on us yet, I need you.” The glossiness of tears welling up in his eyes weighed tons on your morality, you should be the one who’s saying all of this— not the other way around. You should feel ashamed of what you did, all the damage you’re causing him but you have nothing to say; not a single word left your deceitful mouth.
“Do I really not deserve any explanation? Not even a simple, “I’m sorry.”? Is this what it’s really come to now, can’t even look me in the eye and apologize for having me out here looking stupid, remaining loyal to you even when I’m tempted at times… I’ve shown you nothing but love and honesty while all you’ve been doing is lying to my face and planning to hook up with other guys while you’re cooped up right next to me, do you know how worthless that makes me feel y/n?” He continued pouring all his emotions out, yet you still give him a blank stare, as if none of this was affecting you.
“Answer me y/n, why do you keep fucking lying to me?!” Though he kept asking, you still didn’t have a clear response for him, you yourself couldn’t even understand why you did it, it was more a spur of the moment thing. You simply wanted the attention, the thrill of it all, it was a horrifying revelation but you had no other excuse.
“Han, I-I’m really sorry for what I’ve done. Words can’t express enough how deeply guilty I feel… I’m just- I don’t know- maybe this relationship just isn’t working out for me anymore.”
“Shh shh, don’t say things you don’t mean, take it back now baby.”
What the hell are you doing to him? Was this really your way of saying that you wanted to officially break up? The sudden turn of events from wanting to work things out to the possibility of losing you made him regret being too harsh on you, though it was more than warranted, he wanted to keep this relationship alive, he couldn’t succumb to the idea of you walking out of his life this easily.
“Are you saying you want to end t-this…?” His voice cracks, visibly shaken up by your apparent coldness.
“Yeah, I think it’s for the best honestly... You deserve someone better than me.” It may have been semi-manipulative of you to say that but it was truth, he did deserve better, someone who wasn’t going to cheat on him and will properly communicate when they want out of something. “You’re just too… clingy for me Han. You’re overbearing at times, I want to be the one for you I really do, but I’m not. This isn’t working anymore for me, I know how selfish this sounds but I miss being single…” your confession hit him hard, he didn’t want to accept it, not when you made him the happiest he’s ever been.
“As much as it kills me to hear that, I’ll respect it.. but can you at least let me touch you… just for last time’s sake..? I’d be lying to myself if I said I wouldn’t miss eating you out every day, getting to make you feel good, watching you moan out my name as you cum for me. Will you let me do it again, please? I’ll let you go in peace if that’s what you really want, just let me show you what you’ll be missing afterwards.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Felix
“Why have you been so cold towards me lately? Is there something that’s been going on that you won’t tell me about? You can tell me anything, I swear— I’m here to listen to your concerns babe.” Felix wouldn’t stop bombarding you with a plethora of questions, he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. Soon as you get home from work you go straight upstairs without talking, you barely acknowledge him anymore and it’s been driving a wedge between your relationship and how you coexist together.
“I’m fine, seriously, stop asking!” You hiss, trying to shrug him off as you make your way into the bathroom.
You know what you’re saying is farthest from the truth, you’ve been harboring massive amounts of guilt since you made an irreversible mistake a week ago. The night you drunkenly hooked up with someone else at a nightclub— which has been weighing heavily on your conscience every waking moment. You couldn’t even look at him the same anymore, you’ve completely killed the spark between each other, he may not have known it yet but you had to be the one to break it to him.
“C’mon y/n… I know you’re clearly not okay. I’m not an idiot, I know how distant you’ve been acting, it’s quite obvious actually. You won’t even let me touch you anymore, I don’t understand how someone can just flip a switch like that. Is there someone else you’re seeing? Be honest, whatever you have to say to me I can handle it… just tell me the truth please y/n!” Felix couldn’t help but tear up as he begged for answers, his pleas were taking a toll on you— tugging at your heartstrings. It was time to come clean once and for all.
“I-I cheated on you last week..” you anxiously mutter, you couldn’t believe such a sentence came out of your mouth.
“You what…?” He blinks rapidly, in utter disbelief of your sudden admission, mouth slightly agape from shock, he felt his world crumbling beneath him. You kept making all the sorry excuses you could, saying you were drunk and how much it meant nothing to you, the more you tried explaining though, the more he didn’t want to listen.
“So you slept with someone else a week ago and didn’t even bother telling me ‘til now? Un-fucking-believable…” He scoffs, unable to even look at you in the same innocent light he once did.
Stumbling over words as you muster up the nerve to continue asking for forgiveness, it was truly pitiful of you to even think he’d hold any compassion for you, it was your actions that led you here to begin with.
“Felix please don’t leave- I know I fucked up but I can make it up to you, p-promise!”
“And how the fuck are you gonna do that y/n? Build a time machine to go back and change everything? Do you hear how idiotic that sounds? You must be high out of your mind right now.”
“Lix j-just hear me out, I was blackout drunk and didn’t fully understand the consequences of it a-”
“That doesn’t make it any better y/n! Fuck, all the shit I do for you and you hit me with this lame pile of shit, I’m so through with your sorry ass, it’s over.” You wished you could take back everything you did but what’s done is already done, there is no redo or fixing any part of the past.
“Strip.” He aggressively orders in his deep voice, you were hesitant on doing it at first but it wasn’t until he started doing it for you that you eventually complied to his rules.
You felt as though there was nothing you could do in this situation but submit to him, taking off every piece of clothing— leaving you in nothing but your tiny thong that barely covered anything. He forcibly makes you get onto your knees, facing the apparent bulge through his jeans— he’s never been the type to like seeing you cry nor completely powerless but this was different. He wanted revenge, wanted to humiliate you in the same way you did to him.
“I’m gonna post these in the groupchat just to show how much of a greedy, fucking whore you are.” Felix couldn’t even recognize himself, he’s never been so domineering as he was now. He kept pushing your head further down as you took his cock deep, down your throat, his hips bucking into a steady rhythm that made you see flashes of white and stars combined. After he snaps a couple shots of you sucking him off, he immediately sends them to all of his friends, not having a single care in the world what they do with those photos. It was simply payback for what you did, you deserved this after all.
“I hope one day you realize how good you had it with me, you fucking slut— you’ve completely ruined my trust forever. You’re the most heartless, conniving person I’ve ever known in my life and I mean every bit of it. Don’t come cryin’ to me once this is all over, I don’t wanna hear it, pack your shit and get out of my house. I should’ve known you were nothing but a damn nightmare since I heard about you.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Seungmin
Never in his lifetime would he think of you ever pulling a stunt like this, finding out you did some of the most unspeakable acts with someone in the same house you two share together. It was the biggest slap in the face to him, completely crushed his ego. Seungmin gave you a chance to explain yourself but as you continued he couldn’t bear to keep listening anymore.
“How could you even do this to me, just lied to my face this whole fucking time y/n, I trusted you.” He proceeds to go on a mindless tangent, “do you have any ounce of morals? Dignity? You played me so bad and I fell for every bit of it, fell for all the lies you’ve been feeding me for months on end.”
You want to give as honest of a response as possible but the lump in your throat causes you to stir, the only reaction was to sob in this moment.
“Awe, is that a tear I see? Is the wittle cheating slut gonna start cwying for me?” He mocks condescendingly, tilting his head to the side in fake amusement. This only made you cry more, feeling all types of shame and guilt for your heinous actions, what you did was unacceptable, unforgivable. Seungmin saw right through you, he knew you were only crying because you got caught, not because you were truly remorseful. Everything about you seemed inauthentic, he doesn’t know who you are anymore truthfully.
“I- I can explain.” You dolefully attempt to speak, nothing would help your case anyway, it didn’t matter how hard you tried.
“What is there to explain y/n? I saw you fucking another guy in our bed, I think that should be self explanatory in itself.” He’s more than right, however, you still manage to reason with him.
“It was just sex, he didn’t matter to me at all like you do, I’m sorry— I know you’ll never forgive me but all I can say is I’m really sorry… you’ll probably want to kick me out after this and I don’t blame you- just give me time to fix this and I’ll do anything to gain your trust back!”
Seungmin wishes he could’ve recorded this conversation, the way you’re so oblivious to how this is hurting him more than you could even comprehend. He had every right to yell at you, tell you how much of a terrible person you are, but he won’t do that, he can’t— it was all too much for him to handle.
“You want to regain my trust after I just saw my own girlfriend of one year and a half getting her back blown out by some random dude in my fucking bed?” The audacity you had was insane, you were acting more than entitled.
Reconciling the detriment of your relationship was futile by now. You had no more fight left within, seemingly ready to give up on everything you’ve built thus far. Seungmin notices you look mentally checked out of all this, causing him to be deeply irritated. He really wanted to give you benefit of the doubt but you weren’t budging one bit.
“You know what I despise the most y/n? Liars. They absolutely disgust me.” He seethes, pushing you backwards onto the bed you just cheated on him in. Your eyes roll up as you feel the shuddering sensation of teeth sinking into your neck, legs flailing around as you had both arms pinned down.
“Did it feel good to lie to my face? Is this some kind of demented kink you have? I bet you don’t even give a shit how I’m feeling right now.” His tone became more serious as he ranted, lashing everything out on you. When the slight contact of his cock brushes against your clothed slit, the immediate response you gave was bucking your hips, receiving a sinister glare from him. His legs lock your thighs in place, unable to shift a muscle. Your whines only grew louder, he was never going to give you the satisfaction of moving.
“You think I’m really gonna let you move? Silly little slut, that’s only reserved for girls that aren’t lying cheaters like you. I’m so going to make you pay for this, you have no idea… I better not hear a peep outta you and I sure as hell better not feel you make any sudden movement. There will be harsh outcomes if you try it, I fucking dare you.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Jeongin
You knew you were in such deep shit once he arrives back at your apartment, Jeongin texted you this morning— exposing all the dirty shit you’ve been doing in secret. He was practically speeding down the highway with rage, thinking about you getting off with some other guy and playing in his face knowing the whole time what you were doing. The fact you kept repeating over text how sorry you were for your actions just aggravated him even more, he was about to give you the rudest awakening. Jeongin bursts through the door, fuming as he walks in to only be welcomed by your continuous begs and pleads. It was quite pitiful seeing you like this, usually he likes seeing you on your knees but not in this context…
Your lips tremble as you spoke, barely able to chalk up the will to keep going, you wanted to show your sincere remorse but Jeongin wasn’t going to let you off the hook so easily.
“I don’t think you should be apologizing to me. You should be apologizing to yourself for how much of a huge slut you are.” He scorns viciously, “you have no one but yourself to blame, this could’ve all been easily avoided if you’d just close you’re fucking legs for once!” It wasn’t like him to get this loud and it was the first time he’s yelled at you like this.
“I just- I don’t know what I was thinking babe, I wasn’t in the right mind.” The more you try and justify your despicable cheating only aggravates him further. He wants nothing to do with you after this, but that doesn’t mean he won’t give you the most deranged post breakup sex as a final farewell and good riddance.
“Guess you really can’t turn a hoe into a housewife, so I’ll just fuck you like one instead.” You swallow his words harshly, it pained you to hear these things come out of his mouth but he was right.
To put it simply, you were for the streets; there wasn’t one redeemable quality in you. Jeongin demands you to stand up, telling you to get on the couch with your ass up in the air since looking at your face would only make his dick go soft.
“Who’d you cheat on me with, huh?” He asks sternly.
“It d-doesn’t matter anymore.” You try reasoning but he won’t allow you to hide anything else from him.
“I’m not going to ask again, tell me who you fucking cheated on me with, now.” A hand harshly spanks you from behind, letting a tiny whine escape as you dig further into the couch to brace yourself.
“B-beomgyu...”
“Gyu?? Are you fucking serious, of all people it had to be one of my closest fucking friends? You really are the biggest whore after all.” Jeongin was so done with you at this point, he just wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t physically walk anymore, it was only right for what you’re putting him through.
He slid your panties aside and pushed himself in without warning, making you scream out as he held your hips aggressively in place.
“Fuckk- you’re still so tight, did he even fuck you? Barely stretched this pussy out for me.” He grunts, producing deeper strokes, feeling your ass cheeks clap against him. “I fucking hate you, so much.”
The waterworks only continue as he kept degrading you, this was all you’ve succumb to now, just a toy for anyone to use as much as they please. Your head slightly bobs up from his length ramming harder into you, he only pushes your face further into the cushion as he berates you more with disdain, “Didn’t I say don’t move? A useless hole like you should know when to take directions, always so fucking eager to screw someone else other than me, so goddamn pathetic.” He hissed, ignoring your cries for him to slow his pace but only gets more hostile with you.
“God.. will you shut your fucking mouth already? No matter how much you cry and beg I’m not going to stop. You’ve got some real nerve to even be acting outta line, wow, you truly disgust me. Gonna make you feel the same pain I’m feeling— don’t care how bad it hurts, I’ll make you regret ever even meeting me.”
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sweetkpopmusings · 4 months ago
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stray kids soulmate aus | s. changbin <3
a/n: finally posting the next skz soulmate au !! i loved writing for sweet baby angel changbin :,,,-) i'm really in my skz feels these days, so hopefully i can write more soulmate aus soon <333 pics not mine~
content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.6k | warnings: none! | pairing: soulmate!changbin x gn!reader | requests: open
♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡
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every month, you send a package to your soulmate, knowing only your names before you meet.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“changbin?” chan called from outside the bedroom, “are you ready yet?”
changbin, half-dressed and digging through his closet, answered, “almost!”
chan peeked his head inside, tilting it in confusion, “is something wrong?”
“it doesn’t fit.”
“what doesn’t fit?”
“the new shirt i ordered. i could’ve sworn i ordered it in my usual size…ugh!”
“oh that sucks, but…can’t you just wear another shirt?”
changbin groaned, “yeah, sure, i can. the whole point was to wear that shirt today.”
hyunjin appeared in the doorway, “do you need help picking out an outfit?”
chan explained the vague situation to hyunjin, and, during that time, changbin settled for a plain black t-shirt and denim jacket that matched his jeans. the car arrived to pick them up, so, with a final loud groan, changbin grabbed his favorite necklace from his dresser and headed out for the day.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
as soon as you opened your eyes, you checked your phone to confirm today’s date. earlier that month, your soulmate, whom you only knew as “changbin,” sent you a custom t-shirt in the mail. when you unfolded the shirt, a cute handwritten note slipped out, telling you that it needed to be worn on a specific date because i’ll be wearing one just like it. it’ll be a long workday for me, so knowing that we’re matching will give me the strength to do well! please take a picture, so, one day, i can see how cute you look~~ thank you for being my good luck charm, my love <3
rolling out of bed, you smiled. you had never heard changbin’s voice, but you imagined he always had a bright tone. his messages were always so sweet. even if he sent you a glamorous gift, you cherished the handwritten note more than anything. 
with your outfit completed, photo taken, and your mood at an all-time high, you decided to make the most of your day off. hoping the soulmate airwaves connected you, you thought let’s have a good day today, changbin! i’m rooting for you! as you stepped out your front door.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚  
“all right,” chan sighed, stretching his arms, “i say we move onto the next track, yeah?”
jisung agreed, so changbin checked to see which song they needed to record next, “let’s see…ah, it’s jisung’s song, ‘volcano…’” changbin’s tone dropped, but he spoke again quickly, “who’s up first?”
changbin made a mental note to apologize to jisung later. it wasn’t jisung’s fault that they were recording the song he wrote about his soulmate on the one day when changbin ruined his attempt to have a cute moment with his soulmate. chan, sensing the shift in changbin’s energy, suggested they take a break. even the members who weren’t in a sour mood enthusiastically agreed, all shuffling out of the studio for some fresh air.  
“changbin-hyung!” felix chirped, “want to walk with me? i could use some company!”
changbin couldn’t resist the smile that formed on his face. even in his worst mood, felix’s sunshine demeanor would win him over. as they walked, they chatted about the new animation felix was obsessed with, with felix re-enacting the most interesting parts. changbin’s shoulders relaxed, and he was grateful that the evening air and felix’s voice were so healing. standing at the edge of a slightly crowded street, changbin thought that maybe the bad day was behind him.
“what’s been on your mind today?” felix asked.
“it’s going to sound so stupid.”
felix shook his head, “no way! if it upset you, then it’s not stupid.”
“okay,” changbin sighed, “today, i was supposed to wear this one shirt, but i guess i didn’t pay attention and ordered it in the wrong size. normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but i sent y/n the same shirt. we were supposed to be matching today…kind of like a good luck charm.”
felix frowned, “i’m sorry. it never feels good when a plan doesn’t work out, especially an exciting one!” felix paused, and then grinned as brightly as he could, “you’re wearing the necklace y/n got you though! you’ve been doing great in the studio today, so that must be working like a lucky charm, right?”
“yeah, probably. it’s just…” changbin frowned, “hearing jisung’s song made me feel even worse. i’m so happy jisung met his person, but i can’t help that i’m jealous. i see how much better he feels on his bad days after he talks to his partner, and it hurts to know that i can only talk to y/n once a month through handwritten notes. it’s beautiful, and i love every word they share, but on days like today, it feels like it’s not enough…”
changbin’s voice trailed off, turning his head toward the opposite side of the street. maybe people-watching strangers could counteract the tears forming in his eyes.
felix rubbed changbin’s shoulder, “it’s okay to feel sad. i know you’ll meet y/n when the time is right, but that doesn’t make it any better in the present moment. maybe you can write out your monthly message to them tonight, if that would help?”
felix glanced over at changbin when he didn’t hear a reply after a minute or so, “changbin? are you with me?”
changbin stared down the street, captivated by someone wearing the exact shirt he was supposed to be wearing today. though his heart was racing, he doubted it was real. he had to be imagining it since he was thinking about you all day, right?
your eyes searched the crowd in front of you, as you were unable to shake the feeling that someone was looking right at you. you slowed your steps, scanning every face to find one you recognized. you were about to give up, but then a familiar necklace caught your eye. everything stopped when you met the gaze of the person wearing it. 
it felt too good to be true. how could you just run into your soulmate on a random evening, in an area you’d only been to once or twice before? besides, he wasn’t wearing the same shirt as you, which he had planned. but that necklace looked exactly like the one you gifted changbin for his birthday. even as you doubted yourself, looking at the man in front of you gave you the feeling that he was the one you had been searching for all along.
you waved at him and asked, “changbin?”
you knew you were correct the second he started giggling and jumping up and down. you laughed, every cell inside you bursting with joy because there he is!
“changbin? what’re you…” felix followed changbin’s gaze, “oh my god! is that y/n?”
felix deciphered a yes!!! amidst all of changbin’s excited noises, so he nudged changbin, “stop waving and go say ‘hello’!”
changbin bounded towards you, unable to stop his smile from growing bigger and bigger as the distance between you two finally disappeared.
“y/n! i’m so sorry i’m not wearing the shirt! i messed up and ordered the wrong size!”
you giggled at the pout that formed on his face, despite the look of pure joy in his eyes, “it’s okay, changbin! you look cute! besides, that would explain why this one isn’t in my usual size.”
“really?” changbin felt relieved, “so i didn’t mess up as badly as i thought?”
“no, not at all,” you shook your head, overwhelmed by the cuteness of changbin, your soulmate, “i can switch with you–since you must have mine in your closet–so we can match next time!”
changbin shook his head, “no way. you look way too cute in that for me to give you a different one.”
“should we share it then?” you joked.
“why shouldn’t we? we’re sharing the rest of our lives, aren’t we?”
you felt heat rush to your face at his words, bringing yet another giggle to changbin’s lips. you heard someone call his name with the news that they had to leave in a few minutes, which prompted changbin to get your contact information. the smile never left his face, even when he started to say goodbye. in his mind, nothing was more exciting than the fact that tonight, he could finally ask you how was your day, my love?
“i’ll talk to you later then, yeah?” you beamed.
“yes, please! i’m so sorry i have to leave right now, but i promise i’ll make it up to you.”
“i do not doubt that, changbin.”
you waved, watching him walk in the direction he came from. after a few steps, he turned around to look at you again.
“what’re you smiling so much for?” you giggled.
“i guess you really are my good luck charm today, y/n.”
you felt butterflies swarm inside you as your laughs mixed, filling the crowded street with pure joy and endless possibilities.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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persevereforahappyending · 2 months ago
Text
No Man's Land |2|
Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader
Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.
Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing
Word Count: 3k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
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Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.
Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.
“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.
“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”
“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.
Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”
“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”
“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.
Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.
“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.
“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.
Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”
“And someone can verify this?”
“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”
“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”
“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”
“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”
“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”
Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”
“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”
“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”
“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.
“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”
“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”
“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”
Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.
“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.
Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.
Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.
“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”
Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.
“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”
“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.
“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”
“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.
“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”
“I answered their ad online.”
“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”
“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”
“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.
“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.
“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”
Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.
“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.
“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.
“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”
“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.
“I haven’t.”
“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.
“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”
“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”
“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”
Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.
“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”
Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.
“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.
Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.
After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.
Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.
Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.
When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.
“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.
“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.
Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.
Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.
“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”
Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.
“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”
“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”
“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.
“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself
She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”
Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.
Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.
“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”
Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.
Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”
“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”
Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”
“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”
Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.
Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.
“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.
Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.
Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.
Taglist: @thatshyboy1998
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