#gif by gigittamic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

princessbrunette · 6 months

Text

you couldn’t help it. he was your dads favourite friend. yours too.

above all, you felt safe with him — perhaps because he was the youngest of the bunch, it felt there was a more mutual understanding between the two of you. it was no secret that he loved to flirt with you, between offering you trips on his boat to your dad — likely just to get you alone, and the often implications he’d throw into casual conversation when you’d mention another boys name, along the lines of “listen kid you don’t need a boy you need a man. these suckers aren’t gonna satisfy you, can tell you that for free.” as he inhales cigarette smoke, fingers drawn to his lips outside at a work party for your dad that you’d invited yourself to.

he’d pulled up in that expensive car of his that you loved so much after you’d called him, begging him to pick you up. he even gets out the car to open your passenger seat door, taking note of the way you were more tipsy and loose than usual, tits practically falling out your top. “jesus, be careful would you?”

once driving away, you notice him licking his lips, glancing at you as he shakes his head disapprovingly.

“what’s that look for?” you giggle, rubbing at your thighs to warm up. the action makes him clench his jaw, flicking on the cars heating system just a tad — just so you’d stop tempting him. despite all the flirting, he was never quite sure if he could risk going through with it with you. he couldn’t lose this job, not after his own father had cut him off after starting his thirties.

“fuck are you doing out at this time, huh? does — does your dad know?” he blinks obviously at you, glancing away from the road for a second and you notice his hands tighten on the wheel when he sees the way you’re gazing at him.

“no! i’d like to keep it that way. i didn’t tell him ‘cos i didn’t wanna get in trouble. you’re not gonna get me in trouble right, mr cameron?” you lean over the centre console, tilting your head like a sad puppy. his eyes flutter in irritation and arousal, and he tongues at his cheek.

“nah… no… and i already told you to quit callin’ me that shit when i’m not working. it’s rafe.”

“mm, okay rafe. terribly sorry.” you smile to yourself, sitting back in your seat. there’s a short silence, before his curiosity gets the better of him.

“so— so who’s party was this anyway? you hangin’ out with boys?” his eyes slide over to you at the red light, his handsome features illuminated by the red glow.

“what if i was?” you tease and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head and lifting a hand off the steering wheel in exasperation.

“just a question. alright?” he thinks for a moment. “n’i told you already not to do that. trust me — okay — i was that age. it’s bad news for you… m’just tryna help you out here.” he resigns, shrugging.

“maybe you just want me all to yourself.” you walk your fingers along his leg — and this time he actually laughs, but it’s nervous, looking out his window as if to avoid looking at you all together. “wha’s funny? you’re the one always flirting with me.” you bat your eyelashes but he stares straight ahead, eyes hanging low.

“are you wasted?”

you sit back in your seat, arms crossed. “you should be nicer to me you know. i’m your bosses daughter.” your tone is braggy, chin held high with dignity.

“yeah, you’re my bosses daughter. s’exactly why i cannot be too fuckin’ nice to you, okay? can — can you do me a favour here? i’m trying to do the hard thing here and act right. if i did what i really wanted to do you’d probably just go runnin’ off to tell daddy, so… please.” he rants irately, a stiff hand held up between you. you stare at him, your bratty pout transforming in a conniving smile.

“what do you wanna do to me, rafe? ‘said if you did what you really wanted to do… so tell me what you want to do to me.” you lilt, turning your body in your seat which made your skirt hike up a little and your tits press together. he sighs, dropping his head for a moment and scratches his cheek at his slip up before giving you a warning look.

“don’t ask me that shit, okay?”

“i wont tell, i’m really good at keeping secrets.” you smile brightly, and he continues to stare — nearly missing the light turn green.

“that right.” he deadpans and you nod.

“mhm. anyways, funny story — i’ve been getting really good at my stretches. totally unrelated, but you know i can get my knees up by my head now? i’d show you, but there’s not much space here. there’s probably… a lot more space in the backseat.” you lean forward once more, and he continues to stare ahead, driving. “c’mon, rafe. don’t you wanna see? no one has to know.”

“alright, okay — shit. you want it so bad, i’ll give you what you fuckin’ want. jesus— you know, it’s about time you learn to stop teasing grown men, understand me?” he swivels the wheel, briskly pulling into a parking lot nearby and parking the car so haphazardly that you jolt forward when he pulls the brake. “what — are you havin’ second thoughts? huh? no? get in the back before i change my damn mind.”

“okay, rafe.”

“and thats mr cameron to you now, a’ight? go on.”

#divider by gigittamic #okay but dbf!rafe with bratty spoiled ex prom queen cheerleader kook reader !!!! my new fav thing #dbf!rafe #rafe cameron prompt

433 notes · View notes

yuyinesque · 5 months

Text

KREIDEPRINZ | “𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗈𝖻𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾.”

⚘ précis. ≡ he was a little curious as to how the female anatomy reacts to arousal; you were the individual that incessantly muddled his mind with this idea. because of this, he managed to charm you into laying you down on his table and taking his fingers in order to conclude a few factors.

⚘ disclaimers. ≡ afab!reader; sub!reader x top!albedo, finger-fucking/excessive clit play, overstimulation, implied pussy worshipping, pussy studying, edging, squirting, gentle praise, albedo’s simply playing dumb with you.

⚘ category. ≡ nsft smut drabble/headcanons.

⚘ wc. ≡ 1.5k.

𖦥 m.list. oc.list.

𖤥 The holder of Princeps Cretaceus, mm mm mm… anywayyy — This little chalk-based AI is a little too curious for his own good. I believe that you had to been not only aesthetically interesting to the eye, but have a mind of wisdom in order to have such an obsessive interest towards you. With this mind, it’s only a matter of time before he uses you as both a subject and a partner for his experiments, with your consent, of course, for you have an adoration towards him as well. (Un)fortunately, this only set you up for failure, for he was beginning to wonder how you would look in various positions.

𖤥 Now, I may not know much about Albedo, but I’m sure that an enabler would provoke these said thoughts. This said “enabler” is no other than you, the individual who is incapable of holding back their feelings for someone who could read you like a book, ESPECIALLY because he’s been studying you since you carry such a mysterious intensity within you.

𖤥 Hell, he may be an AI, but because of this he’s beyond stupid. It’s clear at times that you’ve been experiencing arousal, but he was unsure as to if you were experiencing it because of him specifically. Besides, he didn’t want to outwardly just ask without any context. Not only that’s an intimate question, but he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, let alone scare you off, now suffering from rejection. Still, the idea couldn’t be left undiscovered, I fear… Really, this whole thing is not about him studying it because he was clueless, he not only wanted a confirmation, but ponder about how YOU would behave if aroused … like like like like like listen-

𖤥 “I must take into account factors such as your temperature, texture, and contractions per minute after each orgasm,” He would divulge as his pallid fingers plunged deeper into your clenching hole, one that was greedily memorizing the taste of his skin to the point where it was her favorite dessert. His statements were definitely rhetorical and you knew it, seeing as you were incapable of formulating comprehensible words with the way he was finger-fucking you without any reasonable restraint bounding his actions. He was destined to complete his experiment, and he was sure that you were on your thirteenth- fourteenth clench. “As long as I have your approval, I do not believe that I’m overstepping any boundaries. You do agree, right Y/n?”

𖤥 NAAA LEMME COOK? HEAR ME OUT!!!

🧷 𝓗ad you haven’t been in a predicament where you could formulate appropriate thoughts, let alone speech that didn’t involve loud, lecherous blubbers, you would’ve retorted with an impish smile with corresponding titter, seeing as he was simply being careful despite his monotonous tone. It’s merely impossible to strangle out a few words since you were practically hyperventilating from overstimulation; there was quite literally never been a time where you’ve felt this overwhelmed during an experiment. Albedo is very considerate of your safety.

He claims that this would be safe as well: Sketching down a memorable image of your pretty pussy rapaciously contracting for his fingers, though instead he decided to use his fingers to polish your clit with vast zeal, earning a pearlescent drool of cum to cascade from your hole. He noted that he should add a glimmering adaptation to accentuate how the rushing river of cum titillate under the pale LED light, also the image of your fingertips delving into your plush thighs as you attempted to keep them up for as long as possible. Albedo however sighed in misfortune at this observation, especially at the way your thighs palpitated endlessly; there was only a matter of time until your body were to finally give into exhaustion. You were only human, after all. Therefore, he made sure to assert underneath his sketch of you that the three components were completed.

One: Temperature. How hot could it get? Normally the temperature inside the vaginal canal equates to a high fever when not aroused, but how hot does yours get during both stages? Unfortunately, Albedo was unable to determine the temperature during its natural stage, for you were already unbearably drenched before he could even give your pussy the time of day, tainting the steel table with the voracious drooling since she terribly craved him inside of her. He also concluded that utilizing a thermometer during the session would possibly bring down your mood (or heighten it, considering that he also noticed that you’re very fond of edging as much as overstimulation). He wondered if he should ask to take its temperature after he cleans everything up, but it wouldn’t correlate with his initial hypothesis.

Two: Texture. Generally speaking, the inside has an identical texture to the inside of your cheeks but… he still wanted to finalize that it stays that said texture before, during, and after sexual activity. Albedo certainly has definitely used his tongue to poke at the inside of his cheek while curling his fingers deep inside of you, carefully massaging your spot as your squeals sang saccharine tunes, whispering poetic praises that caused your noises to induce and circulate throughout the vast vicinity. As anticipated, the resemblance is there, but your walls were softer, but that could be because of how inundated you are. It was another uncompleted draft that he had to address on another occasion; it was beginning to miff him, though at least you were willing to trust him in one of your most vulnerable states.

Three: Contractions. Would it be too selfish for him to wonder how many times you’ll clench before each orgasm? Surely it was quite the push, but he couldn’t help but wonder if that’ll be the last time the two of you would perform something so intimate, therefore it’s best to have most if not all of his questions answered before departure. Not only has he determined how many times you’ve clenched before each orgasm, also determining that the number accumulates the more you cum, he’s estimated that you’ve contracted much more without his fingers rather than with them. Was it due to your acts of desperation? Yes, of course, that he figured as much, and he found the ideal flattering and promising, or even exciting. He could proudly deem that you were one of his favorite experiments yet, and truly desired more of you in different positions in later references.

And Ideally, Four: En–

“‘Bedo, Beh- ff-uh.. fuckfuckfuckfuck- please!” His train of calculations and concentration was vengefully disrupted by the guinea pig in question: you. The one who sobbed out hardly comprehensible beseeches in hopes Albedo has finally calculated enough data to grant you the opportunity to fucking breathe without hiccuping and choking on saliva. The one whose cum spluttered erotically out of their pussy, their juices acting as a varnish on your tumescent lips in order to preserve such finest chef-d'œuvre, and giving the steel table a shrine that’s never been achieved before. The one whose left leg was occasionally being pried away from their right by the alchemist’s gloved hand, seeing as he couldn’t help but feel selfishly miffed at the fact that they’re incapable of keeping them open for the sake of the hypothesis. However, it’s safe for the two of you that this experiment will require addressment… over a few shots, of course.

“What perfection…” Albedo’s cerulean blooming eyes eased with awe as he watched your writhing body twitch and writhe with each time he thrust his fingers inside you, but even when he decided to slow down a little, you were still too sensitive to inure the overbearing pleasure, therefore he decided to stop altogether by finally retracting his pallid fingers that were submerged with a thick ivory. For a moment he had the intrusive urge to give you a taste, but he already broke one of his promises, which was to go easy on you. “The moons surely favor you, don’t they?”

Your mind was too muddled to even comprehend the fact that he was praising you at the moment; you were still trying to find a way to close your legs without any more exertion, let alone rid the seething pain between them. Surely you weren’t complaining, but you were just as shocked as him. Rarely does he lose himself, especially during something of importance. “Perhaps I was being too edacious… it was never my objective to test your endurance … This was my mistake.”

With a sigh that could only disclose disappointment, he stood up from his chair after using a cloth to wipe his fingers clean. Then, while his expression still mordantly stoic, he gently lifted one of your legs to place them on his shoulder, cautiously wiping you down, squeezing your knee reassuringly when you jolted and whined when he began dapping your numbing clit with the cloth.

“We should conduct this on a later date, I'd say… next week. Certainly after your convalescence.. That way the both of us may conclude how well your body responds to penetration.”

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft.

364 notes · View notes