Ron/James, Pumpkin

Ao3 Link

Ron really did know better than to go into the spooky pumpkin patch in the middle of the night, but what was he supposed to do? Owen had dared him to go get a pumpkin for them to put their dicks in, so obviously he had to do it.

He was supposed to find the horniest looking pumpkin, whatever that meant, and Ron was taking that seriously, looking at all the pumpkins. None of them looked that horny and some of them were pretty small, so he stepped over them trying to find the hornier, bigger ones, because he knew Owen liked it when things were bigger.

Then he tripped on a vine and fell flat on his face. “Ow.”

When he tried to get up, the vine…grabbed him. “Uh…let go?”

Instead of letting go, several more vines grabbed Ron, snaking under his clothes and turning him over, moving outwards for a second so that his clothes tore into a trillion pieces and blew away in the sudden wind. “Hey!” said Ron, struggling, which only made the vines wrap around him more tightly. “Let me go!”

The vines didn’t let him go, but they did start to vine between his legs. One of them tickled his boner, which, okay, Ron had a boner, fine, that was a thing that happened sometimes, it didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t like Ron enjoyed being tied up by the vines, fuck, and the other one went lower down and oh no.

As the vine pressed at his hole, some pumpkins floated up. They had creepy faces, and were smiling down at him. The closest one hovered just near Ron’s face. “Hello. Did you know this is our garden?”

“Um…” Ron struggled some more, which still didn’t do anything. “No?”

“Okay. We’re going to punish you for intruding for a while. You might be inclined to enjoy it, which is fine. But just remember that it is a punishment, okay?”

“Wait, I didn’t do anything wrong! I just wanted…ah!”

The vine pressed into his ass, and it didn’t feel like a punishment at all, so Ron decided to keep quiet. One vine wrapped around the base of his dick, and okay, soon that was going to be a punishment. But for now Ron stayed quiet except for shouting and moaning. And he kept being assailed with one thought that he couldn’t shake.

He’d been a bad boy, and the pumpkins were going to make him into a good one.



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