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witchywithwhiskey · 4 months ago

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an afternoon of pumpkin picking

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

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

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

word count: 11.6k

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

Can’t believe you talked me into this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully, your phone vibrated, distracting you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me see, nixie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And take it you did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you mean it?”

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

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

Your sugar daddy loved you. Ransom Drysdale loved you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Wasn’t sure,” he admitted gruffly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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dragoncopper · 5 months ago

Text

After the Day Trip

Summary: Noah finds you very distracting during a hike and starts getting ideas.

Word Count: 3119

Pairing: Noah Sebastian / Female Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Smut - oral sex (f and m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, fluffy sex, breeding (kind of), cum-play.

You could not remember who came up with the idea, but before you knew it, you were at a nearby National Park doing a day hike with a large group of Noah’s friends. A lot of them brought other friends and girlfriends along. Again, you wonder to yourself, how did you get in this situation?

You don’t like hikes. You liked nature and all, but from a distance mostly. This was not your idea of a great time. But, everyone seemed excited and looked forward to it and you agreed in a moment of bravery.

You made sure you were wearing very comfortable clothes, the most comfortable shoes. You had a hat, sunscreen, water bottle and snacks.

Soon, you realised that you were maybe overly concerned. Most people were wearing their everyday clothes, few had thought of hats and sunscreen. After a short hike, you were all on top of a hill, had a bit of a view and soon everyone was sitting down, taking out drinks and snacks. Noah came to sit right next to you, his thigh resting against yours.

‘You doing okay?’ he asks with a grin on his face, handing you a white flower he picked.

‘Oh yeah. I’m fine. How are you?’ you smile back at him and handed him a snack from your bag after taking the flower and bringing it to your nose to smell.

He takes the snack and rips it open. ‘No, I am enjoying this.’

‘Put your phones away guys,’ Jesse yells at everyone. ‘Just be in the moment and enjoy nature.’

You and Noah briefly pay attention to him and then smile knowingly at each other. ‘It’s a decent view from up here,’ you state, eating a sour gum sweet.

‘The view was just great right from the start,’ he replies his voice low. He raises his eyebrows a few times.

‘What?’ you ask confused. You drink half a bottle of water in one go and then offer the rest to Noah, who takes it from you.

‘I was walking behind you,’ he explains. ‘Those pants are very distracting on you. I nearly tripped and died twice.’

You scoff at him, dismissing his attempt to flirt. ‘Drink water, we are not hiking ourselves to death, but it is still hot out.’

He leans in to you, so that his lips are touching your ear when he says, ‘It hugs your ass just perfectly. And then those fucking thighs of yours and the way they jiggle a little with every step you take.’ He places his hand on your thigh as he says this.

You couldn’t help but blush a little. ‘You were supposed to be looking at the trees and shit.’

‘How could I?’ he says pulling back a little so he could look you in the eye, his voice less quiet now. ‘I am only human.’

You kiss him quickly on the lips. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself in those shorts.’

‘Mmm,’ he laughs. ‘I will make sure to walk where you can see me. But, seriously,’ he leans in again, ‘I am thinking about doing unholy things to you.’

‘Really?’ you ask matching his tone. ‘That sounds like a promise?’

‘You know it,’ he squeezed your thigh and briefly runs his hand higher to gently stroke your most upper thigh. Then he kisses you. It was quick, but his tongue touched yours in a way that made you clench your legs together and moan before you could help yourself. ‘That’s what I want to hear,’ he whispers.

He sits back normally next to you and drinks the rest of the water you gave him. You stroke some of his hair back away from his face. ‘Whatever you want as soon as we get home,’ you whisper. You start putting the flower in your hair.

He looks you dead in the eye, and the amount of heat and desire communicated between the two of in those few moments were astounding. ‘I can’t wait, baby.’

All in all, you were all on your way home after three hours. After your interaction with Noah, you struggled to think about anything besides what his imagination was coming up with. Bryan suggested a get together with a big bonfire but Noah was already shaking his head by the time he caught your eye. His excuses were ready.

Noah closed the door slowly behind himself and leaned back against it, his tall frame taking up most of the door. His white shirt was clinging to him slightly from the heat of the afternoon.

‘Should we go shower?’ you ask, sweaty yourself.

He shakes his head slowly. ‘I need you bent over the back of the couch immediately.’ He pushes off from the door and stalks towards you. He makes it in time to place a hand on the back of your neck to push you down gently. Then he stands behind you his hands on your hips. He runs his hands over your backside and your thighs, taking his time. ‘Are these new?’

He was referring to your tights. ‘Yeah,’ you gulp.

‘They are my new favourite,’ he says and you feel him hook his fingers at the top of them and he starts working them and your underwear down your legs. He softly bites into the flesh that is somewhere between your ass and hip and growls. ‘Were you swaying your hips for me? When we were walking back down?’

‘A little bit,’ you admit while you step out of your clothes.

‘Lean over more,’ he says, his voice low. He grabs onto the front of your thighs to anchor himself and then his tongue is at your entrance. ‘Oh baby, this pussy is soaked. So messy,’ he dives in and laps at you. ‘How long have you been like this?’

‘Since the top of the hill,’ you moan, because he was back at it, while you answered. ‘When you told me what you were thinking.’

‘And you wanted to wash all of this away in the shower? What a pity that would have been,’ he pushes into you so much with his face that your hips are pushed up against the back of the couch and then he pulls you back with his hands on your thighs. He moans into you like he just cannot get enough of you. ‘Turn around,’ he pants.

When you turn, you see him on his knees his hands eager to help you get where he wants you. He puts your one thigh on his shoulder and eases you back so you lean against the back of the couch. ‘You taste so good,’ he says looking you in the eye and then he is back with his mouth on you. He licks with his tongue flat all the way from the bottom to the top a few times before he is sucking your clit into his mouth. With his hand that is not holding your thigh in place he carefully pushes two fingers into you.

You throw your head back in pleasure and grab onto his hair. ‘Noah, baby, keep doing that, please.’

‘Is that going to make you cum?’ he asks teasingly. You moan as an answer as his fingers curl inside you. He knows you so well that he has you a blubbering mess within a few short minutes. But then he eases back a little again. He gives a parting kiss to your clit and takes his fingers out. ‘Not yet, baby.’ He gets to his feet and then licks his fingers clean, before he kisses your pouting lips.

The kiss is harsh as his lips pushes into yours hard, and you grab onto his shoulders to pull him closer. His arms circle your waist as he does the same. You taste yourself on his tongue. ‘That was a little mean,’ you pant.

He huffs a laugh. ‘I have been hard for hours, my love,’ he kisses your neck. ‘You are so fucking beautiful.’

Shivers run through your body as his lips touch your neck. His tongue licks up to your jaw. ‘Are you punishing me because you think I am beautiful?’ your voice is barely there as you try to keep oxygen in your lungs.

He pulls away from you. ‘This is not punishment,’ he frowns. ‘This is reward, my beautiful queen.’

You grind against him and you can feel just how hard he is, and has been for so long and suddenly you feel less sorry for yourself. You softly run your palm over him and you feel him twitch in his pants. ‘Oh my poor baby,’ you say.

‘See what I mean?’ he looks down, resting his head on your shoulder.

‘What do you want,’ you say it into his ear.

‘I want you on the bed, on your stomach, completely naked,’ he rasps, he sounds breathless.

‘This is what you were picturing earlier?’ you ask.

‘Oh yeah,’ he growls. You keep slowly moving your palm over him. You swear he is getting even harder. ‘But there’s more to it. I’ll show you.’ He runs his hands over your ass again and squeezes. ‘Go wait for me on the bed. I am getting us some more water.’

You grab your underwear and pants before you head to your bedroom. ‘Put ice in the water, please, it’s so hot.’

‘Alright,’ he calls back. ‘Put a towel down, baby.’

You take off the rest of your clothes, get a towel and place it next to you as you lay down on the bed, on your stomach as requested. You try to get comfortable, but soon you hear his footsteps coming closer. ‘Goddamnit,’ he says when he sees you. ‘Fuck, just like that.’ He places a pitcher of ice water next to the bed and one glass that he fills right away and takes a few sips, and then offers it to you. You take two big gulps. Then you sit up and scoot closer to the edge of the bed where he then stands between your legs. He pulls his shirt up and off in one quick movement, and his hair flops back down and your heart just swells at the sight of him.

‘I love you,’ you smile at him.

He leans down comically far to kiss your forehead. ‘I love you.’

Then you work his shorts and briefs down his legs until he is free from the constraints. You carefully wrap your fingers around him because you know he must be very sensitive. He hisses when you pump him a few times. And then you lean down to lick at his head, tasting his pre-cum.

‘Only enough to get my cock wet,’ he groans. ‘I have other plans.’

So, you suck his head into your mouth and run your tongue on the ridge, he bucks his hips a little. He loves it when you do that. Then you take him as deep as you can, which was most of him, but not all. You run you flat tongue against the veins. You pull away and look at him and he nods.

‘So good,’ he says with affection. He motions for you to move back onto the bed. ‘Get a pillow.’

You grab the nearest pillow and pull it closer. Then he takes it from you and he folds it double, then he grabs the towel and drapes it over the pillow. ‘How do you want me?’ you ask him.

‘On your front, the pillow under your hips,’ he helps you position yourself. ‘Push that ass back towards me, please. No, you need to lay down. Not on your knees.’ After a while of wiggling around he lets out a satisfied sigh. ‘Yes.’

He runs one hand from your hip up your side and then back down your spine. His touch, while so familiar, never fails to make you feel loved and secure. You melt down into the mattress and pillow as he kisses across your shoulders and to the dimples above your ass. Then you feel him straddle your thighs.

‘Can you spread your legs a little?’ he asks his voice hoarse. ‘There you go.’

You feel him at your entrance and he eases his head inside of you. ‘Oh my god,’ you say as your whole body suddenly left alive with sensation. The way he was stretching you already felt so good. ‘More, please, Noah.’

‘You want all of me?’ he asks.

‘Yes. Please.’

‘Push back a little for me?’

You do as you are told and he sinks into you slowly. Just when you think all of him is inside, he keeps going. ‘Oh fuck,’ you sob into the duvet beneath you.

‘Is that what you wanted?’ he asks.

‘Yes,’ you squeak. ‘But please. Just wait a little.’

‘Why, baby? Are you alright?’ a little concern in his voice.

‘It’s a lot. I need to get used to you first. Just a little while.’ You try to explain to him. It felt like he was deeper than ever before.

‘Whatever you need,’ he leans down and kisses right under your ear. You turn and kiss his lips. ‘Am I hurting you?’

‘No,’ you let out a breath. ‘You feel so good. You are so deep.’

‘I feel really deep,’ you feel his breath against you.

‘I think I’m ready,’ you say quietly. ‘Go slow.’

His face moves away from yours a little as he positions himself. ‘Close your legs a little.’

You do that and everything felt so snug, you hear him moan loudly.

‘You tell me if you need me to stop.’

‘I will,’ you reply.

And then he slowly starts moving, pulling out slowly and immediately pushing back in with more force. It felt so incredible. It always did when he was inside of you. But in this position, the head of his cock was pushing right against the spot inside of you where the pleasure emanated from, with every single stroke. You hang your head down and grip onto the blankets.

He leans down and you can feel his tummy on your butt and then his elbows are on either side of yours, his chin resting on your shoulder. ‘Jesus, fucking, Christ you are so tight. This is better than I imagined,’ he is out of breath. He finds a rhythm that is comfortable and yet so mind-blowingly good.

His hand covers yours and you grip each other while he is lets out a growl every time he exhales right next to your ear. ‘This is what you imagined?’ you manage to get out.

‘Yes,’ he pants. ‘I needed to see your ass, and feel it against me.’ His moves are consistent and strong inside you.

‘All because of my tights?’

‘Your ass in the tights. Did you know what you were doing?’

‘No,’ you huff out a laugh. ‘I just wanted to be comfortable on the hike.’

‘Well, what a great choice you made, baby.’

‘Is there more to it?’ you ask, not knowing if you could handle much more.

‘I want to cum inside you,’ he bites your shoulder. ‘And then,’ he squeezes your hand, ‘I want to watch it leak out of you, and fuck it right back into you.’

‘Oh god,’ you cry out, because at this, he started pounding into you faster. He lifts up a little so he has more purchase and he goes faster, groaning with every thrust.

‘Fuck,’ he says. ‘Watching my cock sink into you… I will never get tired of seeing that.’ He goes even faster, to the point where you cannot understand how his hips can possible be moving that fast and you could just hold on trying to keep up with the sensations he was sending through you. ‘You take me so well. That’s my girl.’

When he cums, his voice loses all the breathiness and he sounds serious as he calls you baby over and over, like he is warning about what is about to happen. His movements lose rhythm and quickly stops and he grind into you with his hips his head fallen on the back of your neck. He kisses wherever his mouth can find your skin. Then he pulls away and pulls out of you slowly.

It’s seconds before he says, ‘Already leaking. Look at that.’ You feel his fingers touching you as he touches the mess the both of you made.

‘Please, Noah, put it back,’ you moan. You are squirming with desire and need and you need him back inside. ‘I need you, please.’

First, he pushes his cum back in with fingers and then he follows it by sinking back into you. You sigh in relief. ‘There you go.’

‘Thank you,’ you exhale. He builds up speed and force and soon you are back where you were, in disbelief at what he is managing. ‘Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.’

‘I’ve got you,’ he groans.

‘I know. You always take care of me,’ you are sobbing. The pleasure explodes inside of you and you feel like you cannot get enough, and also that it is too much and you have to fight your body’s instinct to get away from the sensations. He collapses on your back, and you can tell he is trying to keep some of his weight off you, but he is not really successful. But you love his weight on you. ‘Did you cum again,’ you ask after a while.

‘Yeah,’ he whispers into your skin.

When he pulls out again, you crawl up the bed to the pillows and pull back the covers. ‘Come here,’ you open your arms for him and he comes closer to you and rests his head on your chest. You wrap your arms around him and stroke his hair. ‘Thank you,’ you kiss his forehead.

‘I love you so much,’ he barely says as his face is mushed against you. ‘You did so well.’

‘You were amazing. Drink some water?’ you hand him the glass and he takes a few sips, before you empty the glass.

You listen to his breathing, you feel its warmth. Slowly it steadies and evens out. You bask in his arms holding you. That this beautiful person chose to share this with you, that he is resting in your arms. ‘I love you.’

After a while, where you are sure both of you have dozed off a bit he says, ‘Do you want to go to the bonfire? We could still go.’

‘No,’ you say. ‘I think we should shower and get clean sheets on the bed and then cuddle.’

‘Mmmmm,’ he agrees. ‘That sounds so much better. Can we get food?’

‘Of course, my love. What do you feel like?’

#noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian smut #noahsebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction

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weebsinstash · 9 months ago

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I was seeing videos of these specific heart-shaped "slip chains" which are basically bdsm leashes that can be lowkey disguised as necklaces and I started having ideas about "oh what if yandere Valentino put one of these on you and you didn't even know he has you wearing a leash" AND IN THE FUCKING COMMENTS OF THE VIDEO--

So yeah, could you imagine him slipping the loose chain around you while you're serving him drinks or invited for a fun time with him and other people and he's essentially getting off on you being clueless and unknowingly wearing something so kinky (that he has all kinds of ideas and fantasies about using). At first you think it's just a necklace, a cute gift, you aren't even aware of what it means and are just feeling happy and thinking it's so cute, and then, at some point in the night, he gets mad or possessive and just, tugs the lead and you're suddenly painfully horribly aware he's got you on a lead 😳 like. In Public In Front Of Other People, too.

I feel like yandere Valentino would have a full custom kit of toys and tools he WANTS to use on you before he's so much as even FLIRTED WITH YOU. Imagine actually going to fuck this man and he already has things planned, fantasies to try out, and, it turns out he's been thinking about sleeping with you, uh, a lot more in depth and often than you're comfortable with

I'm just. Sitting here. Imagining being mid fuck and little comments just start slipping out of his mouth,

"Hang on, I wanted to try this position with you--" wait how long have you been thinking of us having sex?

"You're a lot quieter than I was hoping you would be, but this is hot too" bitch what do you MEAN 'hoping'???

You fuck him ONCE and the next time he's trying to get you to let him hit, he has a SUSPICIOUS amount of lingerie that is perfectly in your size and bondage gear that's perfectly sized for your wrists and ankles and maybe shit is even PERSONALLY MONOGRAMED, like forget bullshit like "Baby" or "Pet" or something vague, it'll be YOUR NAME or a nickname he uses ONLY for you, so, he obviously had it MADE to be used on you specifically

Idk I'm just. I promise I'm normal and am not constantly thinking about what kinds of accessories and toys this man would have personally custom made because he just loves spoiling himself and playing with his money with reckless abandon 👀 I promise I'm not like, imagining Valentino having entire closets and rooms dedicated to YOU specifically. Gosh. Just imagine the gun case he has in episode four, except when he opens THIS one, the doors are covered with humiliating, exposing photos of you and all his crops and toys are displayed and loaded into drawers 💀 honestly just the hypothetical scenario of, you have never even kissed this man and you're in his tower and, you snoop a little while he's making you wait, and you find this cabinet absolutely COATED with photos of you, and there are also collars and other things with your name on them

also finally just 👀 the overall design of this chain means if he has it pulled taut enough, you literally can't pull it off by yourself, cant give yourself enough slack to unwind it, so you're just forced to sit there with your face feeling like it's on fire while he's actively holding the other end of your lead, constantly reminding the both of you that you're his new favorite little plaything and using the public humiliation to get you to behave. Honestly I think being forced into a one-sided dom/sub kinda relationship with him specifically is a brand new kind of Hell in of itself, but that's a post for another time

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #valentino x reader #hh #sinprompts

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kyouka-supremacy · 4 months ago

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This is random, but here's a list of things that aren't technically canon but make official sskk lore to me:

Akutagawa is a trans gay man

Atsushi is bisexual

Akutagawa fell when Atsushi told him “In my opinion, Dazai-san recognized you a long time ago”. Atsushi fell the instant Akutagawa died for him, because that's the first time he started considering him human (the fell first / harder of this thread).

When Dazai told Akutagawa “you know the reason yourself, don't you?”, the implied reason both of them knew about is that Akutagawa loves Atsushi.

Akutagawa is / was romantically in love with Dazai

In his free time, Atsushi reads and often visits the public library (this is canon, but stretching and reiterating)

In his free time Akutagawa sews. He doesn't like reading.

In chapter 87 it was specifically Atsushi to land the blow that killed Fukuchi (and not Akutagawa) because Akutagawa was still holding to his promise not to kill

Atsushi can cook (and he's getting better at it!), Akutagawa mostly can't

Akutagawa has autism and adhd and eating disorders

Akutagawa and Gin live together

Akutagawa is very protective of Gin. He insists that nobody has to know they're siblings, not even in the pm

Atsushi is the big spoon, c'mon guys

Atsushi prefers coffee over tea, Akutagawa only drinks tea

Akutagawa can't cry (disproved in canon)

To their own surprise, Akutagawa is way more willing to touch and cuddle than Atsushi is. Atsushi really isn't used to physical touch, and it takes him a long time to adjust.

Dazai intentionally set sskk up to be the new generation of double black, but didn't predict they would have ended up together.

Atsushi is pretty selfish actually. Way more than Akutagawa anyway.

If they could have grown in normal circumstances, both of them would actually be quite confident people.

Akutagawa's disease was directly caused by Dazai's physical abuse (half canon? I mean he doesn't have it in Beast)

Akutagawa can't hold his alcohol (canon). Atsushi literally can't get drunk (tiger regenerative abilities).

Atsushi sleeps 10pm-6am, (canonly inherited from when he lived at the orphanage, but I shifted it of an hour because like. C'mon. I don't want to curse this guy to wake every day of his already miserable life at 5am). He is the early bird™

Akutagawa sleeps 5am-11am or later (I know it's technically 3am-5am but man I don't want to curse this guy to sleep for two (2) hours every day of his already miserable life). He is the night owl™. I like to think he'd be a sleepyhead once he's found a place he can *finally* feel safe in, which is something he never had, but y'know. Generally this.

Either way, both of them are insanely light sleepers

Excluding external conditioning, Atsushi and Akutagawa are perfectly equal in (overall, not physical) strength. However, Atsushi prevails over Akutagawa in canon because of the effect All Men Are Equal has on him. The same goes for Akutagawa in Beast.

When they're alone together, Akutagawa does most of the talk; which is still not an exceptionally big amount, but still more than Atsushi, who acts strikingly different in comparison to the usual overchatter and chaotic rambler he is with other people.

After they get together, Akutagawa keeps calling Atsushi “Jinko”, while Atsushi will probably shift to calling Akutagawa “Ryuunosuke” at some point. I don't see either of them using pet names.

Atsushi's love language is words of affirmation, Akutagawa's is acts of service.

Both of them highly dislike pda. They try to keep their relationship secret as much as possible.

Atsushi would have been very non overprotective / laid back if it hadn't been for The Incident (Akutagawa dying in front of his eyes). Now he has an hard time leaving Akutagawa alone.

Neither of them have any dating experience

#atsushi nakajima #ryūnosuke akutagawa #sskk #shin soukoku #bsd #bungou stray dogs #mine #q.#14/10/23

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lowkeychenle · 1 year ago

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Opposites Attract [ZCL/NJM] (M)

Description: Your relationship with Jaemin started out simple--friends with benefits with zero complications...until there was one. That complication's name is Zhong Chenle, and after Jaemin agrees to expand your exclusivity deal to involve him, there's only one logical thing left to do...

Genre: Smut. That's it. It's literally 4.4k worth of smut.

This was a request! Thank you for requesting what turned into what is most likely the longest sex scene I have ever written LOL (and to the other anon in my inbox, my wonderfully Jaemle-fied brain is coming for you next)

Content Warnings: Explicit, rough, unprotected sex (don't do the unprotected part), Chenle says pretty girl again (not sorry) and also slut because duality (again?), Jaemin says princess and whore once i think? Overstimulation !!! and crying because of that...oh and also threesome? didn't know if that was clear lol

Word Count: 4,392

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader x Na Jaemin (the lack of Jaemle gifs is a literal crime so HERE is a picture I found off the internet)

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Your arrangement is out of the ordinary, sure, but none of you are complaining. It started off fairly simple, with just you and Jaemin having your way with each other whenever you felt like it. You’d been friends with the boys practically forever at this point—you never kept secrets from them, and they never kept them from you, either.

That is…until you and Jaemin agreed to be friends with benefits. You both were much too busy to have anything real, and there honestly wasn’t anyone else you’d trust enough to not blab about it to all the other boys.

Chenle snuck his way in, figuratively and literally. You and Jaemin were normally very, very careful with this. None of the boys even had suspicions.

In group settings, he treats you like he treats the rest of them.

In private? You’re his princess, and he worships the ground you walk on.

That day, Jaemin texted you asking you to come over. It was the middle of the afternoon, and your activities were usually saved for nighttime. Either way, you didn’t hesitate. After almost six months of this arrangement, your body automatically responded to him. He never let you down.

He must’ve been frustrated about something because the two of you didn’t make it past the couch to his bedroom. Both of you were shirtless and he was pressed between your legs when his front door opened. Jaemin immediately pressed his chest to yours to cover you the best he could.

“Six months of everyone being ignorant to this has not been long enough,” Jaemin groaned, looking up at Chenle standing in the doorway.

He blinked rapidly at the two of you, in shock more than anything else. Nobody had even come close to suspecting the two of you.

“Dude,” Jaemin said. “Do you mind turning around so I can make sure she’s decent?”

“Yeah, duh. Shit.” Chenle whipped around to stare at the door, tugging his fingers through his hair.

Jaemin quickly grabbed your shirt and whispered an apology and a promise to make it up to you later. You took a deep breath and sat up on the couch, patting your cheeks to snap yourself out of your Jaemin haze.

“I didn’t know you two were a thing.” Chenle turned back to you, arms crossed over his chest.

You and Jaemin glanced at each other before Jaemin replied, “We’re not.”

“Oh, right. I forget that people who aren’t involved have sex all the time. Which is like…the definition of involved.” Chenle quirked an eyebrow.

“We’re not dating, is what he means.” You tried to explain it without spelling it out for him.

“So, he wouldn’t be mad if I asked you for a turn?” Chenle looked at Jaemin, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’d be perfectly okay with that?”

Jaemin’s jaw tightens. “It’s…Don’t be an idiot. There’s no feelings or dating, but it’s still exclusive.”

“Jaem.” You paused and studied Chenle closely. The way your mind strayed could simply be because you were interrupted right when an indescribable amount of heat flooded your body, but at this point, it didn’t even matter.

“What?”

“Why don’t we let him watch?” You tugged Jaemin closer to you and made brief eye contact with him before you dipped down to leave open-mouthed kisses along his neck.

Jaemin let out a shaky breath. “Is that what you want?”

“Ask him.”

Chenle stood there, watching you with laser focus as your hand moved down to palm Jaemin’s bulge through his jeans. His lips parted, tongue running over the edges of his teeth.

“Well?” Jaemin sighed. “Sit down and watch or get the fuck out.”

Without wasting another second, Chenle sat in the recliner and rested his elbows on his knees while he leaned forward.

You did this for two reasons—one, you’d always been attracted to Chenle. You’d always wondered what it’d be like to screw around with him, too, but that was mostly before things started with Jaemin. Two, having someone watch the two of you meant Jaemin would be going all out. He’d want to turn you into a moaning mess, to show that he was the one who made you feel good.

Jaemin is a tender lover, the type that memorizes every inch of your body and uses it accordingly. He’d be rough with you if you asked him too, but his favorite thing is watching you fall apart over and over again as he takes his time and pays attention to details. He knows when you’re close, the specific way to rub your clit to send you over the edge when his hips rutt against yours.

That day, Chenle did watch you. He didn’t get to do much more than that, but he got to witness the way Jaemin worshiped you. The way every single touch of his was deliberate in bringing you to the utmost peak of your pleasure—you went higher and higher every time you were with Jaemin.

He didn’t just watch, though. Not when Jaemin’s head was buried between your thighs, tongue-fucking you to oblivion. Chenle had taken himself out of his shorts and jerked himself off to the sound of your pleasure. When Jaemin finally slid his thick cock into you, he buried his head in your neck and kissed, licked, nipped, everything you liked. He fucked you with such precision, all while you were spread out wide on his couch, fully naked and on display for Chenle.

Jaemin paid him no attention. Only you. Only ever you.

“You fuck her raw?” Chenle’s voice was strained as his hand matched the pace Jaemin thrusted into you.

“Feels good.” Jaemin nodded, breath hitching when you clench around him. “Such a tight little pussy.”

A moan slipped past Chenle’s lips. The sound had you digging your nails into Jaemin’s shoulders. At that moment, you made eye contact with Chenle, and his hand jerked his cock faster. He started cursing quietly, eyebrows furrowing as he neared his end. Jaemin reached between the two of you and rubbed his perfect circles on your clit, and as your orgasm hit you hard, your back arched and you couldn’t contain your scream of pleasure.

When your vision unblurred, you saw Chenle with ropes of white on his T-shirt and his head dropped against the back of the chair. He gulped, trying his best to calm down. Jaemin groaned in your ear and spilled deep inside you, rocking his hips to help you come down from one of the best orgasms you’d had in a long time.

A week or so later when Jaemin gave you permission to initiate a similar relationship with Chenle, you didn’t hesitate. Luckily for you, Jaemin wasn’t possessive, and as long as you were still equally as interested in him, he didn’t care if you fucked Chenle, too.

The first time you did, you were floored and amazed by the differences between the two. Jaemin was tender, caring, gentle. You were royalty in his eyes, something to be worshiped. Chenle, on the other hand, was rough by default. He called you names that had your toes curling that Jaemin would probably punch him in the face for saying.

From that day forward, you fucked one of the two depending on your mood. They respected it and never questioned you, and the arrangement worked so well. Although the two of them stayed separate—they’d never fucked you at the same time, nor did either of them suggest it.

A shame, really.

And now, here you are—surrounded by your five oblivious friends and your two fuck buddies. What could go wrong?

Jaemin was good at being subtle, but when Chenle wanted to fuck you, you knew. A dark look would form in his eyes and they’d sharpen. Jaemin showed his want in more subtle ways, like when his touch would linger a tad too long on your shoulder, or when he’d move past you and touch your waist.

After the rest of the boys leave, Chenle and Jaemin stay behind. This isn’t unnatural, and honestly, they’ve been closer lately than they’ve been in a long time. You settle between them on the couch, closing your eyes and leaning your head on Chenle’s shoulder.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You nod.

Chenle puts his hand on your thigh, moving it higher and higher until it sits at the edge of your denim shorts. You immediately clench your legs together. Since that first time Chenle watched you and Jaemin, nothing like that had happened again. To have him touching you like this with Jaemin right next to you spurs thoughts in you that you’re unsure if either of them would be down with.

Chenle’s fingers slide beneath your shorts, teasingly rubbing along your skin. You glance over at Jaemin, sucking in a sharp breath when you see his eyes locked where you’re being touched.

“Look at you, Princess.” He clicks his tongue, brushing your hair behind your ear. “He’s barely touching you.”

Wetness pools at your core.

Chenle drags his nails across the hem of your panties. “Always so wet and ready. Bet you’d beg for cock, wouldn’t you?”

“Wouldn’t she look so good stuffed with two?” Jaemin reaches beneath your shirt and tugs your bra down to free your breasts. You gasp when he rolls your nipple.

“Fuck, she’d go crazy with you fucking her pussy and me fucking that pretty mouth.” His moves further, barely brushing against your clothed core. “What do you say, pretty girl? You want us both?”

Between Chenle’s teasing and Jaemin playing with your breasts, you can’t do anything but whine. You’ve dreamed of taking them both since Chenle watched you and Jaemin.

“Of course, she does,” Jaemin coos. “Look at her squirming already. We’ve barely even touched her.”

“Please.” You gasp, lifting your hips to try and get Chenle to apply more pressure.

“Who do you want to stretch you out?” Jaemin asks, pulling your shirt over your head before quickly unclasping your bra. “Don’t be shy, baby. Tell us who you want.”

“Both,” you moan. “Don’t stop touching me, please.”

Jaemin leans down to kiss over your chest while Chenle’s lips connect with your neck. You whimper, toes already curling at the feeling of their tongues leaving wet trails on you.

Chenle pops the button on your shorts, the undeniably simple motion making heat swarm every inch of your body. He tugs them off of you. You’re left in a pair of lace panties, but both of the boys are fully clothed. You pull Jaemin away from your breasts to kiss him hard, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt while Chenle fingers dance down your body to your core.

“God, Jaem, she’s soaked.” Chenle lets out a relaxed sigh. “Perfect little cockslut.”

When a shudder runs through you, Jaemin hums against your lips. “Did you like that, Princess? You like when he touches your pretty pussy while he thinks about fucking you like a whore?”

As the words leave Jaemin’s mouth, Chenle’s thumb presses against your clit through your panties and you slam your thighs together. Holy shit, that really just came out of his mouth. Your legs shake as you squirm.

“Don’t be like that,” Jaemin says, gripping one of your thighs while the other man grabs the other. The two of them wrench them apart so Chenle can continue his work.

“You want me to make you cum?” he asks, lips brushing the tip of your ear. “Gonna make you finish so much today, and you’re gonna take it like the good little slut you are.”

You nod, dropping your head back on the cushions. “Please. Please.”

He moves your soaked panties to the side, sliding two fingers in with ease. His palm presses into your clit with every thrust of his hand, and his tongue licks along your pulse. The two men are much too strong, and any attempts to close your legs is futile.

Jaemin latches on to the other side of your neck, nipping the base of it. You try your best to rock your hips, but the magic happening inside you doesn’t require your help. It never does when it comes to them.

Chenle adds a third, breath shuddering at how easy you take it, how much the wetness gushes around his fingers.

“Look at you,” Jaemin whispers. “So good at taking what we give you.”

You can’t even come up with coherent words. You end up mumbling gibberish at him as the bubble starts to form. It takes one last brush of Chenle’s palm on your sensitive bud to send you flying over the edge, your back arching as a scream leaves your lips.

The three of you sit in silence for a moment, even as Chenle gently thrusts his hand to help you come down from your high. The only sound is your rough breathing.

Jaemin reaches up to caress your face. “Why don’t you go wait in the bedroom? We’ll be in in a second.”

Although the last thing you want to do is separate yourself from them, you stand on shaky legs anyway. Chenle quickly grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it before giving it a rough smack.

You’re only alone for a couple minutes at most before they follow you in. Having them both in front of you and towering over you is intimidating this way, but you don’t shy away from them.

Chenle grabs a pillow from the bed, tossing it on the floor in front of Jaemin while the latter pulls his shirt over his head and starts undoing his pants.

“Didn’t want you to hurt your knees while you suck my cock,” Jaemin says, gesturing to the pillow. “Take your panties off and show me why you deserve to get fucked.”

You quickly do what he says, knees sinking into the soft fabric as your mouth waters at the sight of him pulling his pants down. You’re so concentrated on Jaemin, you almost don’t notice Chenle below you. His head rests down on the pillow, his hands already moving to explore the expanse of your legs.

“What are you doing?” Your face burns at the thousands of thoughts racing through you brain.

“None of that.” Jaemin grips your chin and lifts so you have to look at him. “Don’t pay him any attention when I need you like this.”

His shirt is absent from his chest, hard planes of muscle on display for you. You crave to lick him all over. He pushes his jeans and his boxers down his legs, eyes closing when you waste no time. You wrap your hand around his rock hard cock, jerking him slowly while you prepare yourself to take him in your mouth.

You take his tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around. When you feel Chenle’s hands exploring the back of your thighs, you gasp. Jaemin uses the opportunity of your widened mouth to push himself further inside. He gently grips your hair, guiding you since you’re so distracted by what the other man is doing between your legs. You try to breathe through your nose, hollow your cheeks, do anything to aid in Jaemin’s pleasure, but your entire body shudders when Chenle squeezes your ass. You moan, reaching forward to grip Jaemin’s legs. That’s the only way you’ll keep yourself afloat between the both of them.

Your eyes water when Jaemin hits the back of your throat, causing it to constrict around him. He lets out a groan, his grasp tightening slightly. You feel Chenle shift below you, but you’re much too preoccupied to ask or see what he’s doing.

Hands still massaging your ass, Chenle presses a kiss to your throbbing clit. Your whine is barely heard while muffled by the cock thrusting into your mouth. Your knees wobble as Chenle flattens his tongue and licks up your slit, nails digging into your skin.

“That’s it, Princess,” Jaemin coos. “Your mouth is so perfect.”

You take initiative then, bobbing your head and taking him in as deep as you can while you grind down on Chenle’s tongue. Your moans increase in frequency as his lips wrap around your bud and his fingers circle your entrance.

Between the heavy cock on your tongue and the stimulation of your clit, your orgasm builds much faster than you anticipate. You never want this to be over. All you want is to be between them forever, feeling unimaginable pleasure at their hands.

“You’re doing so good,” Jaemin mutters.

You’re building and building and building, and then Chenle curls his fingers, and you scream around Jaemin. His hips buck involuntarily into your face, slamming his tip into the back of your throat. He pulls out of your mouth, chest heaving as he watches you crumble onto the man below you.

Chenle yanks you down until you’re sitting on his face, and he brings you down from your high gently.

“Fuck, that was close,” Jaemin groans, tugging his fingers through his hair. “Let her go now.”

One last lick to your entrance, and Chenle’s sliding out from under you, offering you help in standing up. His face glistens with your arousal, and unbelievably, it sends another wave of heat through your body. You kiss him, sighing at the taste of yourself on his lips.

Jaemin’s hands find your waist, squeezing you gently. “Get on the bed, baby. All fours.”

Your body is tingling from your recent orgasm when you pull away from Chenle to do as Jaemin says. Barely able to hold yourself up, you clench around nothing in excitement when the bed dips behind you.

They’re both out of sight, but you can always tell who’s touching you. Jaemin’s touches were soft and deliberate, and Chenle’s were rough and messy. Two completely different styles, but either way, they had you craving them both somehow.

“You ready for me?” Jaemin whispers, teasing your cunt with his cock. “You’re so fucking soaked.”

You only have to wonder about Chenle briefly, wondering where he’s at, because he climbs on the bed in front of you, the rest of his clothes shed and precum dripping from his tip. Your mouth waters all over again.

“Go easy on me, pretty girl.” Chenle bunches your hair in a ponytail. “I still want to fuck you when he’s done.”

Your eyes widen. Knowing Jaemin, there’s no way he’ll fuck you without making you cum. You’re already weak from the first two orgasms Chenle’s given to you, and the idea of four sounds so far-fetched. No way you’ll make it that many—your body would probably fall apart limb from limb.

Chenle taps the head of his cock against your lips, and you instinctively open your mouth for him. As he pushes in, Jaemin follows suit, both of them moving slowly, deliberately taking their sweet time in stretching you open to the max. Everything about this is perfect. Your wetness drips down your thighs and your toes curl and you feel so hazy and full.

You use your tongue to tease Chenle, stroking the underside of his cock and tracing along the prominent vein. Jaemin feels heavenly, his thick member plunging into you at a steady pace. Your legs and arms shake trying to keep yourself up. The last thing you should’ve done is tease Chenle, because he pushes himself so far into your mouth, he’s down your throat and your nose is against his pelvis.

“You’re too easy on her,” Chenle says to Jaemin, breath shuddering when you gag around him. “She’s just a little slut, begging to get fucked by both of us at the same time.”

Jaemin grips your hips, his working against you in fluid, steady motions. You feel them both everywhere. Even now, getting everything you wanted, you need more. The pleasure makes you delirious, your vision blurry and faded as Jaemin’s cock rubs against your walls in the most satisfying of ways. You lose track of how many sounds are muffled by Chenle.

“Fuck,” Jaemin murmurs. “She fucking like that. She just got so tight.”

“Told you.” Chenle lets out a short, breathy laugh as he quickens his pace.

Jaemin reaches around you, reaching down to find your clit. He never fails to touch you in a way so perfect, you’re ready to crumble within seconds. Your jaw and arms ache, but it only aids your experience.

Chenle pulls out of your mouth slowly, watching as a trail of spit stretches from your lips. Then he yanks your head back to make you look at him. The motion is so rough, tears spring into your eyes. You’re finally able to breathe properly, the whines, moans, and screams finally out in the air. He traces over your surely swollen lips with his thumb, gaze dark. Jaemin’s thrusts are met with lewd sounds of your wetness and skin slapping against skin.

“Be a good girl and cum for Jaem, slut.” Chenle tsks, pulling at your lip.

And you shatter, the loudest sound you’ve ever made escaping from you as Jaemin fucks you steady through your third orgasm. You can barely breathe, gasping as you quake. It doesn’t take long for Jaemin to follow suit, two more thrusts before he holds you against him, spilling deep inside you.

“As fun as the show has been,” Chenle begins, letting go of your hair. “I’m gonna need a turn before my balls fucking burst.”

Your arms can no longer keep you up, so your face falls into the mattress. Overstimulation has tears running down your cheeks, but nothing matters to you except finishing what you started.

Jaemin gives himself a second before he pulls out of you. He continues to hold your hips up until Chenle’s able to take his spot. Massaging your ass, he gives you a little bit to calm down.

“Be careful,” Jaemin mutters to Chenle.

You imagine the glare the latter gives in return.

“She’ll tell me if it’s too much.” He traces a finger up your spine. “Wouldn’t you?”

Unable to speak, you nod fervently, pushing back to encourage him. You’ve never been so overwhelmed in your life, but you craved more. A whimper falls from your lips as Chenle prods at your entrance.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, gently scratching up and down your back. “You’re so fucking sexy, you know that? Wanting my cock when another man’s cum is still leaking out of you.”

You push back further, yearning for the stretch. They’re similar sizes, but Chenle’s thicker just enough for you to notice. No coherent thoughts swirl in your mind as you turn your head to look at Jaemin across the room.

His boxers are back on, and a tiny glimpse of worry spreads across his face. Your eyes roll all the way back as Chenle slides inside, every nerve-ending in your body on fire. He’s surprisingly gentle with you, barely rocking his hips to help you adjust to him and the sensitivity.

Jaemin makes his way over to you. Kneeling by the edge of the bed so he’s right in front of you. Your walls flutter incessantly around Chenle’s cock.

“You take us so well.” He brushes your hair stuck to your forehead from the sweat. “We’ll take care of you, Princess. You just gotta cum one more time, then we’ll take such good care of you.”

You whine at the thought of a fourth orgasm, but you nod. Jaemin’s thumb brushes your cheek, swiping away the tears. His lips meet yours, easily prying yours open so he can slide his tongue in your mouth. A low sound emanates from Chenle as his grip on you tightens. He thrusts faster, desperate for your attention, slamming himself inside you regardless of sensitivity.

You tremble, fisting the sheets as you cry out into Jaemin’s mouth. He stays put, but Chenle picks up his pace, his throbbing cock fucking you open.

“Good girl,” Chenle groans, his voice borderline whiny. Through his steady pace, his balls slap your clit with every thrust. You jolt each time, the sensitivity wreaking havoc on your body the closer you get.

When you explode around him, it’s sudden and quick. You hold onto the back of Jaemin’s neck, whimpering and gasping for air as if you can’t breathe. Chenle stutters, the clamp of your walls making him dig his fingers into your ass.

An elongated moan leaves his mouth as he bursts inside you. He stays inside you for a moment to allow himself to calm down. When he finally pulls out, he guides your practically limp body down to the mattress. Your chest heaves while you try to catch your breath, but the only thing you feel anymore is the overwhelming urge to fall asleep.

“You okay, baby?” Jaemin asks, tilting his head. “You know you look so pretty like this, right? With your lips swollen, eyes red and drooping…To think we made you this way…” he trails off, humming to himself.

When Chenle comes back, he’s got his boxers on and a towel in his hand. He turns you over, moving the cloth between your legs. You whine when it rubs against your sensitive bud, and Chenle whispers an apology to you.

“You should really take a bath or you’ll be sticky all night,” Chenle says as he wipes down your legs.

You shake your head.

Jaemin chuckles, a tiny smile gracing his face as he regards you. “Look how tired she is.”

Chenle does his best to clean you up, and then he moves over you to give you a gentle kiss. You sigh in content, relishing in one of the rare moments of Chenle’s affection.

When it comes to after any given activity, Chenle always stays with you. He curls up in bed with you and kisses your face until both of you are ready to fall asleep.

Jaemin, on the other hand, is the opposite. At the beginning, it was your mutual understanding that one of you would leave.

Today, Jaemin watches as Chenle settles next to you, intrigued even more so when you curl into his chest and let out a deep breath. He decides he isn’t going to be the odd man out, so he joins.

The three of you sleep with limbs so tangled, you barely know who they belong to anymore.

#nct imagines #nct dream #nct #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #chenle #na jaemin #jaemin #zhong chenle #jaemle smut #chenle smut #chenle x reader #chenle imagines #jaemin imagines #jaemin smut

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chvnnie · 2 years ago

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My hard this today are soft dom bossy Chan. Literally desperate for a kiss, willing to follow any command.

It’s a Chan day and I LOVE it.

SMUT - MINORS DNI

Anything baby could ever want, baby gets. You don’t even have to ask, really; just bat your lashes at him and push your lower lip out a teeny bit, and he’s at your service.

Hungry? Let’s feed you. Sleepy? Lay your head on his chest, he’ll keep you warm. Need a new book/dress/literally anything? Charge it to his card.

Chan makes sure the world is at the palm of your hands. It’s what you deserve, after all. If anything, he wishes he could give you more.

But today, you’re request is simple.

“Pleaaaassseee?” You whine playfully, scooting the rolly chair across the tiny studio to be right next to him. “Just one?”

Your boyfriend doesn’t look up from his laptop, headphone only covering one ear to listen to your pleas. “Give me like…three more minutes, baby. I just really need to finish this—“

“It’s just a kiss, Chan.”

The way his eyes shut when he sighs tugs on his heart. He hasn’t been sleeping much, too busy trying to ready everything for this comeback that he’s put himself on the backburner. You’ve been giving him space and support, wanting to be there for him during his busy season. Understanding when he doesn’t come home or answer calls, or when he has to leave mid date night because Jisung deleted a file…again.

But you really feel like this isn’t a big ask. That’s why you keep pressing it.

“Baby, please.” He finally looks at you, and the exhaustion is heavy in his dark eyes. “My focus is going to break if I stop for even a second. Let me do this, and then I’m all yours. I promise.”

It’s not a big ask from him. It’s only a short amount of time — you probably won’t even notice it passing.

But God, his lips are so soft. So plush. You just want to feel them, to bite them.

With a pout, you roll back over to your corner. Pick up your book, mumbling an “‘Kay” in defeat. Want for nothing your ass; you’ve never been so desperate for something.

Each second feels like hours. Minutes like years. Chan lied — it took him five. Five whole minutes, and then the headphones are haphazardly thrown on the desk. Click, click, click. File save AND locked to prevent it from “disappearing” (“I swear, hyung!” Jisung whined over the phone. “I didn’t do anything it just…disappeared!”).

“Baaaaaby.” He singsongs, this time scooting over to you. “Guess what time it is—“

The look you shoot him makes him pause his movements, only making it about halfway. Eyebrows raised, he tilts his head to the side in confusion.

“What’s wrong—“

“Don’t wanna talk.” You say, pulling your knees to your chest. Pretending to be too into your book to pay him mind. “Just give me three minutes.”

With a sigh, your boyfriend takes his beanie off. “Baby-“

“All I wanted was a kiss.” You pout even harder, dropping the paperback book on the desk. “But noooooo.”

The fuss your making about a little kiss is a little much. It wasn’t like it was that long of a time to wait, it’s already over. Normally, Chan wouldn’t entertain this type of behavior. Would correct it immediately — this? This is the hill you want to die on?

But today it’s so…cute. He can’t help but chuckle, continuing his journey over to you.

“Aww, pouty girl.” He coos, reaching out to pinch your cheek. You try to swat his hand away, but he’s not budging. “No need for all this.”

“Chan.” You try your best to keep your voice firm, as if he can’t feel your cheeks flushing, the heat burning his fingertips. “Stop it—“

“If you want one so bad, come get it.”

His tone is playful. So, you give in. Using your chair, you get closer to him. Chan is perfectly still, giving you a smile as you close in on him. Nose to nose, lips not even an inch apart—

Pushing on his toes, he slides his chair all the way across the room.

“That’s not fair!”

“Oh? Do you not want it then?” His smile grows wicked. He knows what you want — but silly, silly girl. Did you think it would be that easy? “Come on, then.”

Thus starts the game. You get out of the chair, rushing over to him. You get all the way into his lap, closing in quickly when he dodges your lips. As you cry out in frustration, he grabs your hips. Stands up. Turning on his heels, your back is now pressed to the wall.

“You’ve got to try harder!” He laughs. “It’s like you don’t really want it.”

“You’re mean.” You pout, palms finding his shoulders and attempting to push him away. As if you’re not pinned to the wall. Under his mercy.

“Oh, am I?” His voice is laced with faux sadness, the fake emotion taking over his entire face. Lips, eyes, brows. Acting like your insult cut him deep. “That’s not nice.”

Right as you start to speak, a hand flies from your hips. Gripping your throat and squeezing until he hears a squeak.

“But you know what else isn’t nice?” It’s like a switch was flipped; eyes now dark, expression like stone. “When you get bratty with me from a simple request.”

How he manages to unbutton your jeans and shove them down with one hand, you’ll never understand. Or try to process; everything about Chan’s demeanor has rendered you useless. Watching with wide eyes, whimpering brokenly. Savoring the little gasps of air.

“Was it worth it?” Fingers run up and down your folds roughly, not bothering to be gentle with you. When they brush against your clit, you start to squirm. “That silly little kiss?”

He asks as if you’ve gotten it. You pout, trying to speak hopelessly. “S-still need it—“

“I don’t think so.” He clicks his tongue. “I’ll decide what you need.”

Without warning, two fingers sink inside your cunt. Stopping only when he hits the knuckle. There he spreads them, scissoring your walls open. The hands on his shoulders grip his hoodie. His grip, his fingers — it’s already making you dizzy.

“Silly baby.” Once he deems his work enough, Chan starts to plunge his fingers deeper. Making sure to feel every inch of you. “Maybe next time you should let Daddy work.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #chvnnie thots

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ladybugsimblr · 11 months ago

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simshaderoom Guess Dizzy was serious about getting his simoleons from Bailey Kay. Sources tell us that he officially filed a lawsuit against the Queen for skipping out on their Ciroc deal. He also included BK’s label since they refused to promote their songs together. No word yet on the amount Dizzy is asking for. Must be big since everyone in The Blueprint section of the Entertainment Honors Afterparty looked over it! Dizzy was not in the building (yet again) but still managed to ruin the night. Looks like this feud is not ending anytime soon. Who y'all riding with?

view all 7,170 comments

dizzydes At least the ONE pic you used of me was good smh. This is just business. I gave them plenty of chances to squash our little beef, but they chose not to. I promise I don’t mean any harm. I just know a caged bird when I see one. It’s clear that beautiful butterfly wants to be free and I can be the one to help her.

skyeisthelimit Gross. Give it up Dezzperate! BK doesn’t need your help. She needs you to leave her alone. Damn! 😒 #Vybez #BFlyHive 🦋

rubberbandshan Open and Shut. Will be wrapped up by end of the next business day. BK will give Dizzgusting his little coins and move on.

kingb Yeah... this is not making it to court. He definitely won't get the spectacle that he is looking for. Bye Dezzpicable! We are tired. Just like you.

rubberbandshan I have to admit I don't like the energy in these photos. BK was just slaying in the couple pics earlier in the night and then womp. Ugh. I don't like this at all.

bkstan I agree rubberbandshan. BK is looking a little off. It's giving strong edible just kicked in tho. I think she's fine.

anon I meannn Dizzy deserves his money. BK didn't fulfill her obligations. More importantly. Why do you all once again have photos and not video/audio?! Looks like an argument to me!! 👀

bflyhive I'm sure it's nothing to the Queen. She is not even focused on Dizzy. She has a show to do baby! #ButterflySprings #HouseOfButterfly 🦋

c.spiracy The difference in pics is giving we had to switch clones in the middle of the party for sure. I don't think there's anything to worry about. Just a little malfunction. It's perfectly normal.

notthesameanon My aunt’s best friend’s mailman’s wife’s niece worked the event and said no one was allowed anywhere near their section and it was super loud in there so you couldn’t hear anything. She did say it looked like a heated discussion and BK left early and visibly upset. Trying to get more info...

rubberbandshan Yes please. Let’s focus on that. An unhappy Queen goes back into hiding and we just got her back outside. Can’t have that!!!

c.spiracy You thought I forgot to count the jewels in her necklace didn't you? Nope! 😉 The message is loud and clear BK.

#i know dizzy is going to try to drag this out #but WE want this wrapped up in 24-48 hours #we have more pressing matters to get to #good day #googling negative adjectives that start with d is my new fave hobby 😅#bklgen2 #bklegacy #bailey kay #quinton #khalil russell #dizzy des #simshaderoom #rubberbandshan

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bubblergoespop · 6 months ago

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justifying why i should be the porter fan ♥︎

@plaqying AH THIS IS SO FUN thank you so much for starting this ilysm

oh my days i’m gonna take this way too seriously and this post is gonna become way too long please vote for me guys

1. okay first of all i’ve been obsessed with porter ever since he was first mentioned by name in the 2023 channelversary livestream at 1:58:41. you can literally see a comment on that livestream from me where i’m talking about it

2. porters symbol alone is cute to me like look at those lil pointy things and AUGH they look like fangs too bc he’s a vampy vamp

3. the man is a brit just like me, we’re literally MEANT TO BEEE and anyone who says otherwise is, as porter would say, a twat x

4. yknow that quotes thingy i do, under the hashtag #bubbler’s top quotes? well, porter was the first character that i did for it, i was literally inspired by porter to do it hehehe

5. i barely post about him on tumblr tbh, and that’s not the only way for one to show their love for a character, but here are some of my posts about him hehe:

6. honestly, just ask roachie (@mokozroach). she knows how much i obsess over the man. here’s some of my messages to her, some are a little NSFW:

7. i have a whole note in my phone dedicated to the man, where i put quotes, lore details, random facts etc etc. here’s photo evidence:

8. the amount of times i’ve watched any audio with him in has given me the ability to recite them perfectly from memory (yes that includes the summit audios where he’s not even the main focus for most of it)

9. thinking about someone else winning this genuinely makes me want to cry but it’s okay i swear if someone else wins i won’t go crazy i promise why would i go crazy i’m completely normal about porter solaire

10. honestly just this post like i can’t help but be dedicated to my man

11. porter is more than just attractive to me, he’s also INCREDIBLY FASCINATING. i could talk about him for hours and the only reason i don’t is because i don’t want to ruin people’s perceptions of me. i think this post might do that but oh well.

12. whenever erik mentions porter in any video in any form, i get flutterbies (butterflies) in my stomach. he just makes me so giddy ehhehehe

13. if i could choose between making porter solaire real and becoming a billionaire, i would choose the former. and that says a lot bc who doesn’t love money???

14. i’m an obsessed tier patron and i chose milo rebane’s card during the fooliverse month just because i hoped porter rebane would be mentioned.

15. i love men in pain. porter is a man who loves pain. another reason we are meant to be.

okay i’m sorry you had to read all this, i am gonna try to restrain myself now and stop talking about porter solairemmemfmfmfmgmgmg. if someone else wins, good for them, but i’ll never accept the idea that someone could love porter more than me.

#listening to his hbs as i write this #redacted awards 2024 #redacted porter #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse

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ceilingfan5 · 1 year ago

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boy enrichment

happy friday! another one for @taznovembercelebration "YES"

“So like, I don’t know any of this nerd shit,” Taako says, flipping his hair a little. “But the lil’ man wants to play, and I want him to get to play, because the next time he gets the zoomies and I have to play Risk I’m gonna fuckin’ Risk It All, you know what I mean? No offence, Ango.”

“None taken, sir! If I took offence at all of your flippant and seemingly disparaging comments made to distance yourself from real feelings and maintain the dangerously seductive comfort of irony, I’d be in a sorry state, probably!” Angus grins a great big gap toothed grin, not even looking at Taako, who just sort of accepts this as normal. Both of them look at Kravitz expectantly, and he, stunned, realized he’s meant to be formulating an answer and not just being more floored than the sad, sad fucking arcade carpet he won’t replace because he’d have to lose like, a WEEK of business.

Also it’s vintage.

“But I’m not!” Angus says, probably for Kravitz’s benefit, and also as a politer way to kick someone under the table, especially when you cannot kick under the counter of his game store.

“Right,” Kravitz says. “So you want to play DnD.”

“Oh, more than anything, sir!” Angus does a little wiggle that betrays the absolute carbonated excitement lurking under his carefully controlled little bow-tie ass calm. “But even, perhaps, if it were possible to be more than anything and then more than that again, as how some infinities are larger than other infinities, as you may remember from the siren song of calculus, I really, really want to DM!”

“You want to DM?” Kravitz eyes the ten year old. Ten? He thinks Taako said ten. He might have also said five, and that’s definitely not true. Probably. No, definitely. Five is like double toddler. Right? Double and a half? “Dungeon Master,” Angus says helpfully, opening his mouth and taking a thrilled deep breath to elaborate ‘for Kravitz’s benefit’.

“Right. Well, sh- heck, young man, uh, I admire your enthusiasm,”

“Don’t worry, you can swear in front of me! I’m perfectly well aware of what sort of words you say in what sort of situations. In fact, I’ve been learning a lot about code-switching, and-”

“Hey, lil’man, you gotta win the sale to infodump,” Taako nudges in a stage whisper.

“Right!!!!!” Angus straightens up, vibrating like a Looney Toons arrow. “Regardless, would it be possible to DM at your game store Mr. Kravitz? I promise I would follow any rules and guidelines you set out as appropriate based on your store code of conduct, even if they’re stupid, and Taako can help me bring snacks if that is acceptable!”

Kravitz laughs, getting the hang of it now. He gets it. Maybe he doesn’t get Angus specifically yet, or even kids in general, but oh, does he recognize this flavor. And he would fucking love to enable it as far as he’s allowed.

“You know what, I do think I have an open table. I’ll put out feelers and see who’s interested. Do you mind a rotating party, or would you prefer to lock in for a certain amount of time?”

“Hmmmm,” Angus says, screwing up his face and clearly mentally flipping through his campaign notes. “Let me consider and prioritize.”

“Yeah, you consider and prioritize, maybe shop around a little, and I’ll chat with your, uh,”

“Taako,” Taako smoulders, which provides no fucking context whatsoever. Who are you to him. ELABORATE!!

“Taako,” Kravitz agrees with a smile.

Angus bolts off so fast to look at the campaign books and dice that he leaves an Angus-shaped cloud behind, and Taako and Kravitz stifle laughter, because it’s still not like, a huge store, and the little guy probably hears everything he isn’t supposed to.

“Precocious,” Kravitz says fondly. “You don’t know the half of it,” Taako sighs. “I can’t keep up with him half the time. But man, he cares so hard it wears a hole through me and when I eat it falls out of me like a cartoon skeleton.”

“So true.” Kravitz can’t help but laugh. They’re more the same than Taako may realize. They reek of the same vibe, like the kind of candle you wanna take a big bite out of. “He’s yours?”

“Insomuch as a stray cat is yours, you know?” Taako leans on the game counter and sigh, toying with his hair again, which Kravitz recognizes is a flirting technique and is somehow still kneecapped by. “Like, you can be like, hey, who the fuck lets cats outside? They’re gonna decimate the goddamn bird population, and then where will we be?”

“Ten percent less birdful,” Kravitz says, like that’s a reasonable thing any person has ever said on planet Earth, ever.

Taako nods, which does nothing to discourage Kravitz’s bullshit.

“But like, seriously, his legal guardians don’t do shit, and yadda yadda yadda,”

“Plot plot lore, Kravitz agrees.

“He’s mine, sort of. He comes and eats my food, at least, you know, when he doesn’t have to fight possums for it.”

“Does the possum have a name?” Kravitz grins.

“Garyl,” Taako says, whipping back just as fast. Fuck, Kravitz is obsessed with him. Damn, he had things to do. “He used to be a binicorn in another life, but he can’t escape the cycle, so he came back as a trash gargler. His favorite cheese is provolone.”

“Ooh, mild,” Kravitz says, so outside of himself at the moment that he could pause the livestream and do football drawings and commentary on his own stupid face putting these noises in this order. But Taako laughs, so it’s worth it. He looks at Angus, who is carefully inspecting the Bucket O’ Dice, and digging frantically for one he’s spotted in the very bottom. “I almost want to go open another pound of dice and pour them in, you know, for uh…boy enrichment.”

“Boy enrichment is the name of the game,” Taako agrees. “That tiger needs beefier meat pumpkins than cha’boi can provide. I can’t keep up with him, seriously. I was hoping maybe you’d know more about this shit?”

“Yeah, a little,” Kravitz massively understates, feeling a glowing, strong bond form between him and this alleycat of a kid. “I’d love to let him find his footing here, if you want. And if people want to be freaks about it, I’m not having it.”

“Fuck yeah,” Taako mumbles. “Knew I could trust a pretty guy like you. No one’s snapped you up yet?”

“Too goth and weird,” Kravitz laments, like he isn’t having a heart attack about being called pretty. “I’m as single as the day is long.”

“Well, it’s Daylight Savings Time, bitch, and it’s about to get real dark.”

“Are you-” Kravitz can’t help but laugh. “Are you announcing your intentions to pursue me?”

“Is it working?” Taako winks.

“Yes,” Kravitz has to admit. “Yes it is."

[ID: a gameboard with 15 spaces, 1-5 taken up by stickers of a cat, a fish, "good worker", a door, and a dragon]

#taz #taz nc #taz november celebration #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics

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ominous-feychild · 5 months ago

Note

Can you tell me a little about The Arcane Rifts?

Mislav (the berserker) and Ludmila in particular (their names stood out lol)

Ahhh, the Arcane Rifts, my golden child--

I--I mean--

The story I give an appropriate amount of love and attention to! 🥰 (or so I say because I think the extra attention I give it is deserved because it's the golden child--)

The Arcane Rifts

I've since included the blurb and other information in my Writeblr Intro if you want more generic information! Sorry I've taken so long to respond to this, haha. I'm going to continue forward here assuming you've read it, but I'm probably going to restate a lot of information here anyway!

The Arcane Rifts is a high fantasy, action, mystery story with hints of horror! It primarily follows its two MCs, Gene and Tazin, as they struggle to live on their own as Socially Othered kids.

Gene is physically disabled--he was born with a twisted and too-short leg that makes it difficult for him to walk. In-story, he uses a cane and eventually gets a foot lift that helps level out his walking. Though it doesn't perfectly fit, the best actual medical condition I can find for him is clubfoot!

Adding to his social-othering, Gene is also autistic (though it "doesn't exist" in Glavnran) and originally from another country, though it's unknown which one in-story. He was found in the woods on the outskirts of Kavo (a town within Glavnran) a year prior to the events of the story, and has barely gotten a grasp of the local language in the time before the story starts.

Tazin is the secondary MC and another kid only two years Gene's senior. He's ethnically Jhandan (Fantasy!Indian), and discriminated against by the majority Glavni (primarily white, Fantasy!Slavic) people despite being born and raised in Glavnran.

(Context: Glavnran is under the thumb of the Jhandan Empire and has had a history of both war and exploitation by Jhandar. This has led to the hatred of the Glavni people toward anything Jhandan--however. I do not say this as in to say the discrimination Jhandan people face is fair, understandable, or reasonable--just that it's the origin of the tensions. Tazin is a literal 9-year-old, though, and obviously just gets handed that hatred because of the color of his skin... and a minor accent.)

There's Asks on both Gene and Tazin and you asked about other characters, so I'll hold off on giving more info about them in particular, but!

The Arcane Rifts focuses on the two boys meeting, deciding to work together to survive on the streets, and accidentally getting way in over their heads as they accidentally draw the attention of both the cops and the local gang.

The main plots focus on the children, the khonitva, and Kavo's chief of police--Nikolai--investigating the boys on top of some magical stuff going on in the background.

It's a dense story, but I promise you it's worth it!!! Or, it will be whenever the current version has more than 5 chapters available read...

Mislav Baran

My beautiful babi boy and definitely not Gene's later boyfriend.

So, bad news: while he appears a bit in Book 1, Mislav isn't a main character there. He only becomes a MC in Book 2, after... spoilers! happen! 😙👌 In order to answer your questions, though, I will be giving away mild spoilers! 🥰

First, an introduction: Mislav (the berserker) is, surprise surprise, a berserker! Let me actually grab a snippet straight from tAR for this!

What Damaris didn’t know was that Mislav was a berserker, which meant he was stronger than any normal kid. Especially when he got angry. Being a berserker meant more than getting stronger with anger, though. It boosted all of his physical abilities and his senses. To top it all off, he healed from injuries more quickly. So imagine what it was like when he got angry. Although he’d show off his strength sometimes, Mislav hated that he was a berserker. Not only was it his own curse, gifted to him by Zhrizn—Glavnran’s evil god of nature—after he’d orchestrated the deaths of Mislav's family, but the people of Kavo hated berserkers. They said they were wild, destructive creatures that did nothing but hurt and kill.

Woah, so there's a lot to unpack there, haha. 🤭

But before I do... let me give you the next two lines from Gene('s narration).

Those were the reasons why Gene never told Mislav what he thought of a berserker’s abilities. They made for a perfect weapon of war.

Wait, wtf, a kid thought that??? Aaaaaanyway! We're talking about Mislav, not Gene! 😉🤭

Yeah, a berserker's abilities are perfectly suited for combat and recovering from it. However, at the beginning of the story, Mislav is just nine. Y'know--nine years old. He's not seeing any combat or war!

(Y'know... besides the whole "Adilzhan killed his entire family somewhat in front of him" thing. Oh, wait, right. That.)

So, Adilzhan. He's an avatar of Zhrizn (aka does his bidding), and it was presumably on Zhrizn's orders that he killed Mislav's family.

And then... stopped.

To spare Mislav? What's so special about him? Who knows! Me. I do.

Regardless, after sparing him, Adilzhan half took him in. Yeah. Took him in. After slaughtering his entire family and burning down the farm Mislav grew up on. That certainly won't be causing any sort of weird complexes in the poor kid growing up.

Despite their, ah, rough introduction, Adilzhan has been a shockingly generous "parental" figure to Mislav. Rather than forcing Mislav to live with him, Adilzhan sent him to the local orphanage and gives him anything the orphanage can't. Then, he's even ignored Mislav's uh... well.

Blatant attempts to "get revenge".

To be completely transparent: "berserker"-ness has turned (perhaps unsurprisingly) into an accidental allegory for anger issues--especially in the poor, traumatized Mislav.

So what does a kid with severe anger issues accentuated with a curse that actively tries to make them worse do when their family's murderer is constantly trying to be nice to them? Well, lash out, of course!

For example, by the beginning of book 2 Mislav would/will have:

destroyed a bunch of Adilzhan's stuff... several times.

straight-up ambushed/attacked Adilzhan (though only twice!! And only in the first several months of knowing him!!!... because he quickly learned it wouldn't get him anywhere--)

kicked/headbutted him while Adilzhan tried treating his (Mislav's) injuries

purposely sabotaged Adilzhan in moments of danger/stress, leading to Adilzhan getting injured when he otherwise wouldn't have gotten!

And yet, shockingly, Adilzhan never would've lashed out at the kid. Worst he would've done is put Mislav in the magical equivalent of "time out" while he took care of whatever problems the kid made.

By the beginning of book 2, when Mislav is 15, he's mostly moved past the state of constantly lashing out at Adilzhan. Like, sure--he hates him. Always will! But he's learned that, despite the past... Adilzhan is genuinely looking out for him. And was kinda a halfway decent parental-ish figure?

And, oh boy. Does he hate that. And understandably so!

But he's come to accept it.

Oh, Right, That Was Background Info.

So Book 2 Mislav! While Gene and Tazin were busy being criminals together on the streets, Mislav spent his time being raised halfway between the orphanage and Adilzhan himself. However, like all of the kids in Kavo's orphanage, he got kicked out at the age of thirteen (yeah, it's messed up, but tbh that's just how bad Kavo is).

So did he move in with Adilzhan at long last?

Hell no!

Mislav joined a gang, the yuertel!

Wait, what???

Yeah! Don't worry about it, it's all good. Anyway!

One thing I didn't mention earlier about the "berserker curse" is that it does more than just enhance the individual's physical capabilities and senses--it also will slowly corrupt their physical appearance as they tap into its power.

Which... that was another reason that Mislav toned down his anger with Adilzhan. Allowing himself to stew in it made it more and more likely that he'd act on it... and acting on it advanced the curse's control over him. And if you don't remember, the people of Kavo really don't like berserkers.

So, for most of his life (since the deaths of his family), Mislav has been doing his best to bottle up every single negative emotion he feels and avoiding people to keep them from figuring out the Truth. Aaaaand, y'know, self-sacrifice like hell. Because, surely, if bad actions accelerate the curse, then being a good person will de-cellerate it, right?

Yeah. He wishes. Literally.

Ludmila Morozov

So, Ludmila!

She first appears only at the very end of the first book, but Ludmila is actually a super important character to the series! She becomes a major character starting book 2, and is a main character in book 3!

Ludmila is an ice mage--or vykolt as the Glavni people call them--though you wouldn't be able to tell considering her fierce personality, haha. (Well, actually, she's incredibly icy, too, but.)

While Gene and Tazin were busy spending the first book of tAR in the khonitva and getting themselves on Kavo's Most Wanted list, Ludmila spent her time in Damaris's orphanage, getting evicted as she turned "of age", and joining/becoming the leader of the yuertel!

Oh, yeah, so the yuertel...

Ludmila didn't start the gang, and in fact got an actual job assisting the lumberjacks (and -jills) after first being kicked out of the orphanage. She only quit after an incident disillusioned her from Kavo's police- and work-force at large. Afterward, she was informed of the yuertel's existence by her childhood friend--Rada--and joined them when she couldn't find another job she was okay with working.

When she first joined, the yuertel was a ragtag bunch of kids with no idea what they were doing. After she joined--... well, they were still a ragtag bunch of kids with no idea what they were doing! But their previous leader saw her compassion for the others and stepped down to let her lead instead. Y'know, with his guidance, considering he was just a little better with people than her, but she was around a lot more than him and could do more for them than he could.

The yuertel isn't what you'd first think of when the word "gang" comes to mind. While they get up to criminal activity, they minimize collateral damage when and where they can, because hurting others isn't Ludmila's goal. They just need to do what they do to survive--malice and wanton destruction was the khonitva's thing, not hers. Though if a stray icicle hit Nikolai or a member of the khonitva over the head, she wouldn't complain.

While Ludmila wants the world to be a better place, all she sees is more ways to make it worse... or to work for those she feels sit idly by, allowing for things to get worse while sitting on their hands. So, instead, she carved out her own corner where she takes care of the people she cares about while nobody else pays them any mind.

Point is, she's a bit of a hypocrite.

Kavo--and, in fact, Glavnran in general--is a terrible place. It's full of crime, discrimination, ableism, and so many -phobias that it's ridiculous. She realized there was nothing she could do about it, so she sought to help her friends float by if nothing else. But she's a little ignorant of the fact she's guilty of the very same thing she hates in Nikolai and the rest of the police force.

Complacency.

At least... she is before book 3. But that's spoiler territory. 😉

A little more background info: Ludmila got sent to the orphanage after the murder of her mother. (Which, I so want to write a short story where Nikolai and Adilzhan investigate the murder buddy-cop style, Nikolai hating and suspecting Adilzhan of it all the while...)

Her mother, Tosha, was a fellow vykolt and actually was an avatar of Ertzat, the Glavni psychopomp god of ice, winter, death, and other associated things! They were distantly related to Gennadi (the un-elected mayor), and that combined with her priestess status meant the two were decently well-off before Tosha's death. Ludmila was close childhood friends with Rada even before then, and their parents' deaths occurring at approximately the same time led to them ending up at the orphanage together.

Idk what else I can say about her without getting into spoilers, haha...

I love Ludmila! Despite her hypocrisy, I'd say she's genuinely a good person stuck in a miserable circumstance like a lot of my characters tbh. She's a massive "sister friend" angsty type, and absolutely CANNOT get along with Tazin after the duo joins because of them both being stubborn af, haha. They're two bulls locking horns!

(And, beautifully, are a fire/ice rivalry, haha.)

I've seriously had this half-done in my drafts since publishing my Writeblr intro... I'm incredibly disappointed in myself.

Tag list: @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives

Divider from @cafekitsune

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whaddayadothatfor · 2 years ago

Text

Shit Outta Luck

Pairing: Gojo x fem!afab!reader x Nanami, mostly Gojo x Reader

Content warnings: Free use, dub-c*n, dirty talk, excessive amounts of c*m, degradation, teasing, naked female clothed male (kinda), cliffhanger

Word count: 2,595

Summary: One day your best friends Nanami and Gojo come over to hang out and help you pack to move. You end up stuck under your bed. Instead of helping you out, they help themselves.

AN: This is so ridiculous y’all. Unedited. Thanks to my bestie for hyping me up when I was writing this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed it! ❤️

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, intended for audiences over 18+

Chapter One:

You can’t believe this is happening to you.

To think, the day has started off so normal. Maybe that should’ve been a hint. You’ve had the worst luck since grade school. You were always the kid to scrape your knee on the playground or get random bruises bumping into desks or walls. Hell, you even managed to be the only person to get bird poop on your cap and gown during your high school graduation. A series of unfortunate events. You’ve got the coordination of a preschooler and shitty luck. It’s a rare occasion when things work out well for you.

That’s why you should have been wary when you woke up early this morning, even without your alarm. You really should have caught on when the your face was free of breakouts and your shower was warm and toasty. Maybe you should’ve clued in when you found your comfort hoodie tucked squarely in the middle of your doom pile your desk chair. It had been missing for over two weeks and you hadn’t even washed it since the last time you wore it and it still smelled like laundry detergent. The last straw should have been having a perfectly normal breakfast, with perfectly seasoned eggs and a sweet coffee at just the right temperature. That really should have sealed the deal.

But alas, you’re as oblivious as you are unlucky.

Earlier

You scrolled through TikTok as you finished your breakfast and began making a mental

note of all the tasks you should complete today. Nanami and Gojo, your two best friends since uni, promised to help you bring your heavy furniture and boxes down to the moving truck and then move them up three flights of stairs into your new apartment. If there was one source of luck in your life, it’d be those two.

It was your sophomore year of college and the both of them happened to take the same upper division course you had signed up for that semester. Initially, you were nervous at being in a group with both of them, as they both were the most popular and attractive boys in your major. A feat, since all three of you attended one of the largest universities in Japan. However, you were amazed at how well you got on with both of them. You were calm enough to deter Gojo’s hyperactivity but energetic enough to bring Nanami out of his shell. For some reason, your group dynamic just worked.

They stuck to you like glue for the rest of University. You had lost touch a little after graduation, but then you had moved to the same city they lived in a year later. It was nothing to slip back into your old routine. Now, being with them both was as normal as brushing your teeth in the morning.

And it would keep working, as long as you could pretend to not notice how goddamn fine they were. That’s really why you had been friends so long. They had told you as much in University. They were sick of women on campus treating them like meat. They liked the fact that you only ever treated them like people. So, you hide how you feel about them and keep them at an arm’s length, so they never figure out the truth.

You finished the last bit of your breakfast and put your dishes in the sink before heading back to your room to finish packing up your things. The rest of the apartment was ready to go, but you had saved your room for last. Mostly because it had the most clutter and you had the worst habit of not cleaning your room well, something Nanami always chided you for. He was a stickler for neatness, after all. Anyway, Gojo said that he’d be by in an hour and Nanami said he’d come by after work, so you wanted to make sure that the bulk of your room was decluttered and packed up by then. So you set off to work, pulling up a playlist and busying yourself tidying things up and placing trash and old boxes into trash bags. After about 45 minutes, you decided to start cleaning the mess up under your bed.

And that’s how you found yourself in your current predicament.

Present

You can’t believe this is happening to you.

You really, really can’t believe this is happening to you.

You had gotten stuck, under your bed. It was like a scene straight out of a bad porno. You were cleaning up under bed, pulling different bins and Knick-knacks out from under it when your watch had gotten caught on something deep up under your bed. It was an older bed, with a brassy-colored metal box spring. Somehow, and you don’t know how (because you have been wracking your brain on how this could have happened for the past ten minutes) in the process of trying to untangle your watch from whatever it was caught onto, you tangled your hair into the box spring.

So, let’s recap:

You’re stuck. Under your bed. With your two best guy friends on the way. One of which is a notorious little shit who loves to tease you in any given situation. Your whole bottom half of your body exposed. With only a hoodie and spandex exercise shorts on. Face down, ass up.

You can’t even call for help as your phone is on the dresser at the opposite side of the room and Siri has, you think, purposely misunderstood your calls for help as a request to play Help! by the Beatles.

You don’t even like the Beatles.

The slight anxiety you had at being trapped did not hold a candle to the humiliation you’d feel once Gojo came in. You wished belatedly that Nanami was coming over first. He would have been much nicer about the whole thing. Or better yet, that you saw the signs early. You never have such an easy going day, you should’ve known something like this would happen.

Just as you were wallowing in self-pity at your own life choices, you hear the door unlock and tense up. You really regret giving Gojo a key to your place.

“Oh honey, I’m home!” His irritatingly deep voice calls out mockingly in a high pitched tone. Even when he’s goofing off he sounds sexy. You hate that about him. And when he finds you in the stupidest, most embarrassingly compromising position of your life, you know that he’ll hold it over your head until you die. Even at your funeral, he’d bring it up. You hated that about him more. You heard him plop his keys on the counter in the kitchen before calling out to you.

“Hello? Anybody home?” You remained silent, hoping he’d think you stepped out and leave. But no such luck. You heard his footsteps inching closer and closer to your bedroom. “I brought your favorite. A matcha latte,” he called out.

That jerk, you thought. He knows you hate Matcha lattes. He brought it just so he could drink it. Suddenly, you heard the door open.

“Y/N?”

You scrunched your eyes closed, desperately wishing that you could be anywhere else than you were in that moment. You anticipated laughter at any moment, but strangely it didn’t come.

“What happened?” You jumped at the sound of his voice. He sounded much closer than he did a moment ago.

“W-well, I was cleaning from under my bed and I got caught on something and now I can’t get out. Can you help me?” The embarrassment welled up inside you, causing you to stutter. Gojo said nothing for a while.

“Yeah, okay.” His voice sounded deeper, huskier than normal. It was strange as usually he put on this silly facade to lighten the mood. He was never this serious. “I’ll have to feel around a bit to see where you’re stuck, I don’t want to hurt you.” You nodded, and you were touched. A pang of guilt struck you. Maybe you didn’t give Gojo enough credit as a friend. You promised yourself you’d treat him better in the future.

Suddenly, you felt a hand caress the back of your thighs, moving closer and closer to your ass. You jumped a little.

“G-Gojo? What are you doing?”

“I’m helping you. That’s what you asked for, right?” He said, playing dumb. He continued touching you more boldly, squeezing your cheeks firmly before caressing your thighs again. You were too stunned to say anything until one of his thumbs lightly stroked your clit over your shorts. You jerked away from him, but your options to escape were limited.

“What the hell are you doing?” You screamed at him in frustration, in more ways than one. You should have never given him the benefit of the doubt. This kind of humiliation was much worse than any other kind you could think of. When you get loose, his ass is grass.

Worse, he was turning you on with his manhandling and gentle touches. You couldn’t help it, you hadn’t been fucked in over a year since your last situation ship and the only thing that had kept you company was your rose toy.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he cooed, rubbing your clit in a slow circular motion before stopping and running his hands all over your ass again. “I promised to help you. I think it’s a tight fit down there, so I’m gonna help you loosen up, that’s all. Then you’ll be able to slide right out, no problem,” he said.

His tone was saccharine sweet, but his actions were anything but. You wanted to protest, but he stopped you.

“Just relax. I can tell by that wet spot on your shorts that you’re really enjoying this.” Your face burned with embarrassment, and all your protests died down in an instant.

You focused instead on choking back heated whimpers and moans because you’ll be damned if you let him know how good he is at making you feel. And he is good. His touches are so experienced, you start getting mad at the imaginary women who taught him how to fuck that well. Although you wouldn’t be surprised if he was just naturally that good. He seems like the type.

It was almost as if he could tell that your mind was headed somewhere else, because he slowly pulled your spandex shorts and thong down in one go and that jolted you back to reality.

“Gojo,” you warned, but he ignored you as usual.

“A thong?” He questioned. And you could almost hear his eyebrow being raised.

“I packed the rest of my underwear! Plus, no one likes panty lines,” you mumble, embarrassed. He just chuckled at you.

“It’s okay baby, though in the future I’d rather you not wear anything at all.” Before you had any time to think about what he meant in the future, he licked a stripe up from you clit damn near to your ass. While you managed to stifle your moan, you couldn’t hold back the shudder that wracked your body.

“C’mon, don’t hold back. It’s no fun for me if you do,” he rang out. He paused. “Actually, try to stay silent. It’ll make it more fun for me knowing that I made you scream when you tried not to.” He chuckled, and you could feel his warm breath cover the expanse of your pussy as he spread your lips wide.

He proceeded to eat your pussy like it was his last meal.

All you could hear was him smacking and slurping up your wetness. He left no area untouched, especially your clit. He alternated between swirling his tongue around your nub and sucking on it till it was puffy and swollen. Your cries of pleasure only spurred him on, making him moan as you grinded back on his face.

Gojo attached his lips to your clit once again, humming this time as he sucked and licked all around it. It was too much. You kicked one of legs out in hopes that you’d receive a reprieve— no such luck. Gojo caught it and put it back into its original position. He chuckled with his lips still suctioned to tour most sensitive part. The sensation had you crying out, trying to run away. Finally, Gojo let go.

“Oh, c’mon. Is that all you can take? I remember all those conversations you’d have with your girlfriends, about how men never satisfy you. Can never go long enough. Are you running from me because you don’t like it? I can do more if you like.” He said teasingly. When you didn’t respond, he slapped your pussy, hard.

“You’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart. Answer me,” his tone, although still lighthearted, turned mean.

“Yes, Gojo, please, I-I can’t,” you responded, breath airy and sparse.

“Please what? I can’t help you relax if you don’t tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

“C-cum. I need to—“ you broke off your sentence with a moan, but it was enough for Gojo.

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

He worked you up until you were at the precipice of an orgasm, except this time he didn’t stop, not even after you tumbled over edge. You had never come that hard from oral, ever. Hell, you had never come that hard in general. He ate you out until the aftershocks of your orgasm died down. He stopped for a moment.

“You know, I still think you’re a bit tense. I think after another orgasm or two I’ll really be able to help free you.”

You moaned in response, still a bit out of it from your last orgasm. Gojo spit a thick glob of spit on your pussy, landing right on your hole before sticking two of his long slender fingers inside of you. It was an uncomfortable stretch and your whine said as much. You hear him unbuckle his pants with the hand that’s not on you as he shushes you.

“Just relax. I’ll make you feel good soon.”

An hour later

“Yes,” Gojo moaned out, deep and guttural, as he sunk into you. The stretch was so much worse than his fingers. You now understand why he made you come so many times. The burn would have been unbearable otherwise. Still, the slow sink into you had you writhing as much you could, still being trapped under the bed and between Gojo’s strong hands.

“Fuck, I knew I should have done this years ago. You feel better than I ever imagined.” You mewled as he sank in all the way to the hilt. He gave you no time to adjust as he slowly started to thrust in and out.

Everywhere felt so hot. You could hardly stand it. Gojo was merciless and soon set an unrelenting pace that had you curling your toes. It was a heady experience, one that made it hard to think about anything else except how hard and hot Gojo felt inside of you.

“I never should have listened to Nanami,” he muttered angrily.

“W-what? Are you—“

“I have been fantasizing about this moment since the moment I first met you, but I. Never. Thought. It’d. Be. This. Good. Fuck!” He shouted as he came. He stilled, his hips jumping slightly as he dumped his come into you. It only made you hornier. He languidly fucked his come deep within you. His tired voice rang out, but not to you.

“I bet you wish you had gotten here earlier, huh Nanamin?”

You froze.

#jjk manga #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #nanami kento #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x female reader #Gojo Satoru x afab! reader #nanami x reader #Nanami kento x reader #gojo x reader smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami x fem!reader #gojo x fem!reader #jjk smut #smut #jjk fluff

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yaut-jaknowit · 2 years ago

Note

WAIT WAIT MY DRUNK BRAIN STARTED WORKING ON ANOTHE MXM IDEA

IMAGINE LIKE THE READER REUNITING WITH HIS MATE AFTER A LONGER TIME PERIOD FOR LIKE WTV ANGSTY REASON (broooo imagine the reader had gone thru smth traumatising like torture or some shit 😭😭) NAHHHH I MIGHT SPAM YOUR INBOX FR TONIGHT MY DRUNK BRAIN STARTED WORKING ON ALL LEVELS FROM ANGST TO NSFW LETSGOOOOO

Returned At Last Part 1

Pairing: Wolf x Reader

Word Count: 4506

Summary: All it was suppose to be a simple trip to earth. Wolf has a job to do. You're okay with that. You stay on the ship where it is safe. No one can hurt you from there. Wolf will come back and the two of you will leave. Don't let your guard down.

Author Note: Soooo I may or not have gone a little overboard with this. That's why it took a hot minute to get it out for you. Hopefully the length of it will be enough of an apology. But also, fucking love this, part of the reason why it's so fucking long.

I promise to all those who have asked me something, I am working on them. I just got side tracked with a few other writing prompts and drawing COD men.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 2

Traveling out in space wasn’t all it was showed in shows. Getting stranded rarely happened; aliens boarding the ship to take over has never happened; stress and anxiety running high was also a nope. Everything was chill. It was just you and Wolf, flying through space as he hunted down Xenomorphs. When he gets off his ship to do his thing, you happily stay back, safe. He keeps you content with books, games, and other supplies his bought.

Yet, everything wasn’t chill today. Not everything goes perfectly. You weren’t safe.

It all started with a distress beacon coming from earth, funny enough. When Wolf told you about this, you jumped at the call. He, of course, couldn’t say no to the ancients telling him to respond. So, the two of you went through the void of space back to earth. You were more than happy to return after some time away. You couldn’t go visit family, since they believed you to be dead. Wolf had ordered you to stay on the ship. Why? You didn’t know.

This was your home planet after all. You knew about all the dangers, nothing could truly hurt you hidden out in the middle of nowhere. From what you could remember, Wolf placed the ship to be far from the origin. He said something about a gut feeling. Eh, you didn’t pay attention to him as he grumbled and gather his gear.

The two of you said your goodbyes to each other. Wolf went down the ramp, mask on, just like all the other times he has. You waved at him as the ramp started to close, locking you inside. It’s not like he has you trapped in here. You knew the code to leave if need be. He wouldn’t do that to you. There’s always a possibility that you needed to escape. One you didn’t believe in but let him have his way. If that made him content and knew you were safe, that’s all that matter to you as well.

When time passed at an unknown amount of time, just like any other time, you took roost in Wolf’s pilot chair. An action that didn’t save you. A book in hand, eyes scanning over the pages. One of the songs you liked hummed softly through the quiet air. Not a care or worry in the world. Nothing could hurt you while on your planet. That you believed in.

Something felt off. Your eyes lifted off of the page and snapped over to your water cup on the arm rest. The liquid inside was vibrating. Next, you peered over to the engine controls, thinking they somehow activated. Nothing. They were dormmate. That’s when you felt the pilot chair slightly tremble constantly underneath you. Huh?

You shifted to sit normally, gaze settling on the empty plains that sat out in front of the ship. Void of life and beings. If this was California, this could possibly be an earth quake? But you were unsure. You’ve never lived there. You didn’t know. That was the problem at hand.

Unable to relax or return to the book, you kept a flickering gaze on the scene before you. It was just you, the ship, and yellow sagebrush fields. The water kept rippling in its cup. It confused you on what could be causing that. An earthquake wouldn’t last this long. How right you were.

An idea came to mind. Wolf has taught you a few things about his ship, the basics in case of an emergency. You pressed a button on the console. A map of the scanned area appeared, like an aerial view of the plains.

Off to the ships, seven o’clock position was a small group of moving black dots. They were coming towards you. Oh shit! People. Not good. At all. They were heading towards the ship, towards you. Your quick fingers found the comm. Button close by and pressed it. Wolf kept his emergency comm. channel linked to the ship open at all time. For a situation that called for this.

“Wolf? There’s cars heading towards the ship. What should I do?” you questioned, eyes flickering back and forth the map. There’s been only two times you’ve flown the ship. Both opportunities have ended almost ended in a fiery explosion. You didn’t believe you could fly it again. Those chances were without stress. You weren’t worried there were people coming towards your camouflaged ship.

That thought made you paused. The shields were up… The camouflage was activated. How could they know where to drive? It wasn’t luck or chance they were heading in the right direction in the middle of nowhere. Wolf parked his vessel in the middle of nowhere. They shouldn’t know where to go unless…

Wolf hadn’t answered yet. “Wolf? Please, I don’t know what to do. I can’t fly this thing, you know that.” Silence from his end. You could almost groan at that. “Answer me! I need your help, Wolf!” you yelled as if that’ll help him hear you. Why wasn’t he answering? Fear gripped your heart in its deadly claws. Said organ thumping against its bony cage.

Your hands grasped the edge of the ship’s console, knuckles turning white. The vehicles continuously grew closer and closer and closer. Wolf didn’t respond. Had these people already got him? You blew that thought off though. This is Wolf you’re talking about. He took on a hybrid Xenomorph and Yautja. Probably one of the most deadly aliens out there known to existence. Best of all, the head is hung on his trophy wall.

Where are you, Wolf? Your head hung low. Solutions were running rampant in your mind. What to do? What to do? What could you do? Well, for starters, the ship. Its shields were strong, able to resist most blasts from enemy ships. So, these humans would struggle to break in. Yet, that didn’t quell your racing heart.

On the other hand, what couldn’t you do? Fly the damn thing. Wolf hasn’t taught you how to use the weapon system. Something about ‘oomans’ and killing themselves in stupid ways. In his own way, that’s him saying he loves you. You were fucked. You couldn’t escape with the ship. You couldn’t use the two massive guns attached to the belly. All you were a sitting duck for these humans to find and do whatever they want.

To be honest, you could hide. The ship offered many places for you squeeze yourself in. All you had to do was keep quiet and pray to Wolf’s god to keep you safe.

Contrary to belief, you would think living and being mates with a hunter/warrior race would automatically give you the knowledge to fight. Yeah, Wolf’s taught you a few things… it wasn’t going to be enough against the at least nine drivers of the vehicles.

With one last drop of hope, you pressed the comm. button once more. “They’re getting closer, Wolf. Please, I need you. I can’t fight them alone.” You held your breath, ears listening for anything that could signal he heard you.

Nothing. The last bit of hope in your heart was squeezed out. All you had was yourself now. He wasn’t responding which worried you. First, you had to ensure they didn’t get you. So when they leave, you could go find him; against his command before he left. Wolf always told you to stay on the ship. That’s where it was safer for you. He didn’t have to fret if you got yourself in trouble. You listened to him, knowing it was better to do so.

One last look at the map -the black dots less than a hundred yards away, you started to think on where to hide. Someplace they wouldn’t look for someone, if they were looking for you. That likelihood was extremely low. How would anyone know you’re with Wolf? You’re a random person who went missing.

On Wolfs ship, there are five rooms, not including the cockpit. Its not really a room, but oh well. First to come to mind was the kitchenette. That was quickly marked off the list. There was the cabinets to possible squeeze yourself in. You would have to displace some cooking wear. Anyone with a brain will be able to tell something was wrong in there.

Second on the list was the trophy room. Another place marked off. Unlike the kitchenette, it had no true places to hide away in. Only a few small drawers in Wolf’s desk he uses for his tools.

Next, the bedroom. The bed was large with a lot of blankets, courtesy to Wolf and his ability to hunt. Yet, to smother yourself underneath them all… you didn’t know how long they would the on the ship. You could slowly overheat and die or suffocate and die. Both options weren’t fun sounding. You crossed that one off as well.

At this point, you were running out time and rooms. The hull wasn’t going to offer you much either. It had boxes and crates expertly stacked. They were strapped down, filled with whatever Wolf like’s to haul through space. Again, taking the stuff out to hide inside of the crates would be stupid. These people will notice the items and think ‘let’s check these boxes’.

Last on the list was the sparring room. This was your best choice out of all the places this ship has. It had a couple cubby’s for weapons that were currently empty. Said weapons were out on their respected racks for Wolf to train with. You hoped he was okay. That it was just a fluke on him not answering the comm.

Since the sparring room offered the highest chance of survival, you hopped down from the chair. Three steps from the cockpit’s door, you heard the computer alert to a proximity breach. Shit, they were already outside the ship. Now wasn’t the time to screw around.

Quick, unsteady legs carried you to the second closest door to the right from the cockpit. It opened at your closeness. You skidded to a halt. The doors. They would open for them, besides the outside one. Another way Wolf tells you to say inside, where it was safe. It wasn’t going to be safe for much longer.

Your eyes flickered to the other doors. Terror gripped your heart. If you were to lock only one door, it would announce to the people outside that there was something important in there. Why else would it be lock while the others weren’t? Now, you only had two options: lock all the doors, loosing precious time or leave all the doors, lowering your chances for survival. The former would take time to do, time you don’t know if you had. The latter would offer more time to hide.

It's like you could hear Wolf whisper in your ear: give yourself a fighting chance. The second option was you rolling over and giving yourself to the group of people outside. One you didn’t want to do. Wolf would be so disappointed if he ever found out. Instead, you took the training he’s instilled into you to heart and changed tactics.

Let’s play a little Home Alone.

The kitchenette’s door opened at your proximity with a whoosh. The sight before you offered the same result to hiding, nowhere to truly squeeze yourself into. Your hand slapped against the touchpad next to the entrance of said room. Its metal door slid close at the command. You heard the tall tell sign of the lock clicking into place. One do-

An explosion rocked you off your feet, side slamming into the warm, metal ground. You hissed out in pain and sat up, hand rubbing at the aching area. Your vision swam for a moment, making you shake your head to clear it. What in the world was that?!

Then it hit you. The humans. What were they doing? A grunt escaped you as you returned to your feet, unsteady. By the sounds of it, they hadn’t breached the door yet. That left you with extra time to lock the rest and go into hiding.

With a newfound courage and energy, you raced against a fatal clock towards the next door. It was across the wide hallway, with a concave floor in the middle. Like a small common area for Yautjas to relax while traveling through space. You reached the trophy room gateway and did the same action as before. It locked before you. Another down. Just a couple more…

After quickly finishing with the third door – the bedroom, you sprinted towards the second to last one: the hull. If you got this locked, it would take them even longer to get into here. The main entrance was in there, sealing this do-

Before you could take a third step, a blast forced the ship to pitch. It threw you completely off balance, back bouncing off of the nearest wall. Then, you crashed back onto your formerly injured side. “Wolf!” You cried out, writhing for a long moment on the ground. That was going to heavily bruise later. That you could promise.

Voices. You paused, stilling completely, down your breath. Voices down below. You gasped, eyes wide and scrambled back to your unsteady feet. That door needed to be locked, no matter what now. Injured or not. That was your last of defense before they stormed the upper levels, where you were.

Now, with that on your mind, you uncoordinatedly ran towards the hull’s door. It opened, just like any of the others at your presences. An array of curse words pouring inside of your mind at this. Those former voice grew louder, their boots pounding against the metal floor. The next second, you hit the touchpad far harder than you meant to. The entrance before you closed on your command, sealing the second to last door to you.

As much as you wished to take a second to breathe, you jogged over to the last door. “Get this door open!” someone shouted from the other side when you weren’t even two steps away from it. Already?! How quick were these guys?

When you stepped into the room, about to spin around to close it off, another explosion had you stumbling out of it. Before you know it, you were on the cockpits floor.

Through the pain and splitting headache, you staggered over to the panel. On the other side of the room, smoke encased the hull’s door. A flash of red dots could seen marking the smoke. Guns. They had guns. You don’t know why you thought that be news. If these guys know what they’re doing on a Yautja’s ship, of course they would have weapon. Fear still slapped you in the face. You weren’t your boyfriend. He could survive many shots from a gun. You couldn’t.

Your hand slapped against the touchpad, sealing you from them. For the time being. With how quick they were able to knock down the hull’s door… you didn’t have hope they wouldn’t be able to do the same to the others. You turned around though, eyes scanning over the limited area in here. One entrance, one exit. You stuck in here.

An idea came to mind. A while back, Wolf had to do some work on the navigation after a run in with a large beast on a random planet. He took you under his wing and had you sit next to him as he worked. He didn’t talk and just showed you what he did. It’s not like you could ever do it yourself without his help. You didn’t dare touch any of the important ship’s wiring, in case you screwed something up. He knew what he was doing. You’ll happily sit there, twiddling your thumbs while observing.

The spot you were thinking of was underneath the control console. It offered a hidden spot off to the side, away from sight. You could possibly squeeze yourself behind the panel. The area there was small and tight, even for a human. It would luck to be able to fully close it. Yet, it was better than just standing he-

“Find that pet of his!” The earth stopped spinning; your thoughts came to a screeching halt. What?! They know of you. It had to be you they were talking about. Why are they coming for you? How do they even know?! Your heart felt like it dropped six feet underground. You stumbled backwards, back against the closed door, hand on your sternum. They were looking for you. They have guns. You were going to die. They were going to kill you. Why? Why?! Your brain screamed at you. Tears started to dribbled down your cheeks as all you could was lean heavily against the door. They were going to kill you.

The only thing stopping you from accidentally announcing where you were was the hand over your mouth. It held in the sobs, the cries, the whimpers. What you couldn’t hold back was the tears staining your face.

Wolf was going to come back from his hunt to find you dead, your brain splattering his ship’s cockpit. Why didn’t he answer? Where was he? Why did he leave? He should’ve never come back here. Earth was bad. It held bad memories. It’s going to hold more. You dead. He’s going to go after them but it won’t bring you back. You’re going to die. They’re going to kill you.

One last sporadic drop of hope entered your heart. It might been the adrenaline racing the organ to feel that way or the terror that squeezed it. You’ll never know. You sprinted towards the control console, seeing the comm. channel light still on. “Wolf, please, I need you!” you whimpered, hands grasping the metal so tightly your knuckles turned ghost white. “They’re here. They’re on the ship. They have guns. They know I’m here. They’re looking for me.”

The longer you talked, the more it seemed you were going down a spiral. Big, fat, globs of tears splattered against the console. You sobbed, no longer caring how quiet you were. “They’re going to kill me, Wolf. I’m going to die. I don’t want to die. I need you, please!” you cried to him and fell to your knees. your head bowed, forehead touching the edge of the dashboard.

Your shoulders shook, sobs leaving your mouth freely. They had to have heard you at this point but you didn’t care now. All you wanted was Wolf to be here. Here with his arms around your body and protect you from the calling of death. “I don’t want to die,” you whimpered, eyes blurry with tears. “They’re going to kill me.” You were too caught up to hide. It was too late.

One last blast knocked down your last line of defense. You stood up and spun around at the same time, back leaning heavily on dashboard. Smoke clouded the most likely demolished doorway now. You held your breath, waiting for a bullet to pierce the unknown and strike you.

Instead, it was them that breached the heavy smoke. When their gazes immediately landed on you, all of their weapons faced you. “Hands up!” one shouted and used the barrel of his gun to motioned for you to put them up. Terror washed over your face at the sight. It froze you in the very spot you stood in.

“No, no, no, no,” you mumbled, shaking like a leaf. This is where you die. Wolf was somewhere far away, not answering the call. He’s going to come back to you dead. On the cockpit’s floor of his ship, cold and lifeless.

“Get the fuck on the ground, fucker!” another demanded of you. Move, your brain screamed at you. Move! Do something. Anything. Just move!

You fell to your knees, hands gripped in front of in a plea. “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me,” you begged of them. Out of the seven of them, you saw the closest one’s eyes crinkle. He was smirking. He stepped towards you, staying a decent distance away. His gun continuously pointed at your head, finger on the trigger. Your body shook, eyes wide as you watched him, unable to move.

Said man chuckled, shoulders shaking with the action. “I won’t if you listen to us very carefully. None of us are afraid to pull the trigger and end you. Leave you here, deader than a doorknob,” he snarked and motioned with his gun for you to get on the ground. “Now, face down, hands behind your back.”

It struck you. They weren’t going to kill you. They were going to take you. You didn’t know what was worse. Being captured or head blown to pieces right here. Captured means they’re probably going to torture you. They’re going to ask about Wolf and when you don’t give in, they’re going to hurt you. You weren’t prepared for that.

“No!” you shouted at him, teeth gritting against one another. A slow, molasses of courage starting to seep into your veins. Wolf would want you to fight. You were going to fight. You weren’t going to let them capture you. You weren’t going to give up Wolf.

A chorus of laughter erupted from the group. The closest barked his laugh before marching up to you and shoving the barrel of the gun into your head. From the headache and bruising side, you hissed. “It think’s he has a choice, boys. What do you say? Show it how wrong it is?” he questioned his fellow patriots and kept the barrel of the gun pressed into your head. You refused to go down so easily.

Similar to yourself, you know where to hurt a man. Your fist curled into a shaky fist as your head turned to stared him in the eye. A newfound fire flickering to life within your eyes.

It was like he read your mind. The bottom of his combat boots met your uninjured side and sent you sprawling across the floor. You cursed as pain flooded your left side.

Before you could get back up, a knee knocked the air out of your lungs and stayed glued to your back. The barrel was returned to the side of your head. “See? Wasn’t that easy to just listen. You must do it for your owner all the time.” Owner? Who is he talking about?

“Get off of me!” you yelled at him and squirmed, doing everything in your power to get back up. The clicking of a gun cocking stopped you in your tracks. “If you kill me, there won’t be anywhere on this planet you can hide. He will kill you.”

“Your owner won’t do anything. You’re just his pet, a plaything to him. He’ll leave you to rot in the cell we put you in.” That former fear began to creep back inside of your heart. Wolf wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave you behind.

“You’re an ass,” you growled at him. That only earned you a chuckle from him and the others around. It was weak, nothing more than a mosquito flying around. Said man shoved his knee further into your back, forcing you to cry out. “Get off of me, you cunt!”

“Ohhh, the pet has a mouth of it. I thought that alien would’ve made you learn by now,” the leader – as you’ve named him, taunted before whacking you with the butt of his gun. You gasped, vision blurring for a moment. “Got nothing to say now?” You stayed quiet, not wanting to get hit again. “Look, boys. We did a better job than that alien.”

The others laughed with him. Humiliation flooded your veins. You had no choice but to listen now. They had made it clear they were willing to hurt you to get their way. “Alright, boys, get this thing cuffed and head out. I don’t want to stay here any longer than we need to be.”

That last sentence peaked your interest. They were scared of Wolf. Well, of course, who wouldn’t be? He’s a highly, well trained hunter with hundreds of years of experience underneath his belt. The first time you saw him, you were terrified of him. It’s a natural reaction to him.

Cuffed? They were going to take you. Capture you. Possibly torture you for information about Wolf. Information you’re not willing to give up so easily. Yet, you’re not trained. “No!” you snapped and struggled underneath him. You weren’t going to be taken! You didn’t want to be.

“Oh shut up, pet. I’ve had my fun and you’ve had your moment. We’re leaving with you alive or dead. Doesn’t matter to us. We get paid all the same.” One of the other soldiers entered your personal space and handed the leader a pair cuffs. The latter gave a gruff thanks. He hooked his weapon with a strap across his back. With the newly acquired cuffs, he snatched both of your hands and twisted them behind your back.

Your heart stuttered in its bony cage. Terror entered your veins as the first biting, cold cuff encircled your wrist. “Wolf!” you cried out, voice wavering with that one word. “Please Wolf. They’re going to take me.” You knew he couldn’t hear your pleas. You knew he hadn’t answered your calls. He somewhere far away, hopefully okay. It matter to you that you tried.

Where was he? You wanted him here, with his arms around you, protecting you. You didn’t care if he killed them and embraced you the moment after. You wouldn’t care about the stench or sight. You wanted Wolf right now.

The knuckles of a furled fist connected with the side of your head. You groaned. “Shut up, before you blow your brains out right here.” Before you had a chance, the same cold, bitter feeling of the second cuff encased your other wrist. They had you cuffed and ready to be taken. Why didn’t you just hide? Why were you so stupid sometimes in the face of danger? Why wasn’t Wolf here?

With the help of the second closest soldier – the one that handed the leader a pair of cuffs, they both easily lifted you off of the floor. Each had an arm under your pits and dragged you from the cockpit. The fight inside of you was gone before it had time to bloom. You were captured, injured and crying silently. Tears stained your cheeks, falling to the warm metal floors.

Unbeknownst to you, Wolf heard every word, every cry for help. He heard your pleads for him as he raced back, full speed ahead. His older body aching more than ever to reach you in time. He heard the nasty name they called you. Those pyode-amedha were going to pay for laying a hand on you.

Wolf skidded to a stop in the cockpit. Your pungent odor of fear assaulted him. It was too late. The walls shook with a mighty, deafening roar.

#yautja x you #yautja #yautja x reader #predator x reader #x reader #predator x you #yautja x human #predator x human #alien vs predator #predator

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