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#Latest Books give away
the-halfling-prince · 2 years
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(book 11, pg 88)
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obsessed with both Hiccup and Fishlegs' bunk bed and also toothless and wodensfang's tiny little dragon beds oh my gosh
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darkfromday · 1 year
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about Obscurials and pre-Hogwarts Harry
this is your daily reminder that Harry could never have been an Obscurial, not because That Woman hadn’t created/retconned in the idea yet, but because of the actual definition, which is “a child who knows about their magic and tries to suppress it”.
Ariana Dumbledore knew she was a witch from the time she was able to know things. She was actively and knowingly doing magic when she was attacked, and afterward she refused to use her gift and it turned inward.
Harry Potter knew that strange things happened around him, but he did not know that it was magic, because he didn’t think magic was even real. One of the first things he says to Hagrid after The Reveal is something along the lines of “this has to be a mistake, I can’t be a wizard”. He also wasn’t trying to “suppress” any of the things happening to him, because he didn’t know he was the one causing them to happen.
so yeah, there’s no viable “Dumbledore knew Harry could have become an Obscurial when he left him with the Dursleys and still left him there” argument, because Dumbledore didn’t know the Dursleys weren’t going to tell Harry about his magic or even treat him like a member of the family (see: my 12-hour long post about this shit last month, along with The Books).
yet another big argument Dumbledore-bashers have that falls apart when you actually adhere to the story lol
#I am once again begging y'all to reread the books#Harry Potter#Ariana Dumbledore#Obscurials#when I watched the first FB movie I was like ''huh interesting'' and then people tried to make Credence/Harry parallels#EXCEPT CREDENCE ALSO KNEW HE HAD MAGIC????#Grindelwald was literally telling him all sorts of shit about the magical world and implying he could ''give'' him magic or unlock his magic#and like sure he was lying through his fucking teeth until he realized Credence *was* an untrained wizard and Obscurial but STILL#JKR is not great at storytelling but this actually holds up in-universe!#if you know magic is real and you might have it and you suppress it: Obscurial#if you don't think magic is real and you don't think you have it: you're just Harry lol#can't believe a stupid ass Quora poster made me think about FANTASTIC BEASTS today#JKR likes to retcon herself too though so I wouldn't be surprised if there's some dumbass line about this in the latest movie#meta#what's interesting is that Hermione never comes up in these bashers' conversations#she is another person who would have had a stake in ''wishing her problems away'' if she had any magical outbursts#yet no one ever says ''Hermione could have been an Obscurial!'' you know why?? because the theory DOESN'T MAKE SENSE for anyone but Ariana!#and Ariana is like Hermione in that she had two loving parents! so clearly Obscurials don't need to have an abusive caregiver to be birthed!#Credence is more of a parallel to Tom Riddle tormenting kids in the orphanage than he is to Harry; just more sympathetic#sigh#'bout to circle back to twitter for a while bc I'm so annoyed about this
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lez0mbie · 1 year
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in a book-buying mood
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thoustve · 3 months
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aaaa im getting so genuinely frustrated with my primary care doctors office
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pseudowho · 12 days
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Papamin's Big Day
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When your first baby was 8 weeks old, she was booked in for her routine vaccinations. You were anxious, tense about seeing your tiny baby in pain.
Kento took the event very seriously indeed. He read all of the latest medical guidance on what to expect before, during and after the vaccinations. He stocked the house with two different types of newborn pain relief. He bought your favourite snacks, certain you'd be stressed and upset.
He booked three days off work, to be there on the day, and for the potential 48 hours of fever afterwards. He reassured you, constantly; the gentle, sincere reassurance of man used to far more stressful situations.
"Darling, she'll be absolutely fine," Kento mumbled into the top of your hair, one enormous hand stroking your trembling back, while the other held your tiny daughter, asleep in her car seat, "She'll hardly feel a thing. She won't remember a thing."
The Nurse was friendly, sweet, and experienced. You twisted your hands as she handed you information leaflets, and Kento nodded, calm and impassive, as she told him all the information he already knew. As the Nurse prepared the three injections, Kento turned to you, one great hand squeezing your thigh.
"I'll hold her?" He asked, and you nodded, mouth puckered as Kento kissed your forehead again. He reached two hands into the car seat, your tiny baby looking so dwarfed in his palms as he lifted her out onto his lap, gently undressing her as she scrunched, squeaking, cradled on his thighs. Kento shushed her, lifting her to his chest, nuzzling his nose into her hair. The picture of calm.
"Alright then! All ready, mummy and daddy?" The Nurse chirped, approaching with a sterile tray of vaccinations. You steeled yourself. Kento nodded, brisk.
It was all over in under ten seconds. Three swift needles, two to one thigh, and one to the other. Your baby girl's pain reaction was delayed for a moment, before she shrieked, a confused little cry, a cacophony of appalled tiny wails.
"Oh-- oh baby, my baby, come here," you cried, your face scrunched as you scooped her into your arms, cradling her under your chin, and bopping her around the room with bum-pats and shushes.
A few moments of tiny newborn cries passed...until you heard one heaving, strangled sob behind you. You turned round to Kento.
Kento stood, shaking as he faced the window, one arm wrapped across his chest to hold his elbow, the other hand cupping his face. You heard barely suppressed sniffles, and quiet gruff breaths.
"Kento, are you--...are you crying?"
"No, no, I'm-- I'm fine," Kento wept, sliding tears away with long fingers. Another sob wracked across his broad shoulders, more tears spilling down his face, sobbing again when his daughter wailed another pained cry.
The Nurse looked from Kento, to you, to Kento, silent as the grave. You walked slowly over to Kento, whose tears began to slow, giving his daughter a watery smile when she looked up at him with a quizzical, tearstained face.
Kento scooped her into his arms, drying his tears on her tiny velvet head. You rubbed Kento's arm, squeezing it, trying to stop your heart from bursting, with a little smile.
"Kento, do you...should we...go and get you a sandwich?" Kento sniffled, giving his daughter a kiss, nodding his thanks to the Nurse.
"Yes, uh...yes. I'd like that. Sorry."
"Don't...dont be sorry."
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sykostyles · 1 month
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subject to change 1.0
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wc: 6.4k summary: in which Y/N is a fairly inexperienced romance author, and Harry is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan. What happens when he offers her one night to experience some of the things she’s written about? part two
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a/n: hi there! can you tell I'm ovulating? that is the only explanation I have for this one. big shouts to my mootite patootie @celestie0 for being a real girls girl and being my beta reader and personal hype woman! she read the whole thing and she doesn't even like Harry like that! Ellie is a real one. (check out her story kickoff rn!🔪)
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cw: bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, there’s a lot okay reader be warned.
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“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 
“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny, your publicist excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.
“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer 
“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”
“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 
“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 
“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 
“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 
You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.
“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Harry’s House in big yellow bubble letters on the wall. 
Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with emerald eyes, dark chestnut curls, glasses pushed atop his head, and a smile plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.
“M’ Harry. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?
“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?
“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.
“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.
“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.
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After your sit down meeting with Harry and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Harry asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.
You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 
“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.
“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.
“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.
“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.
“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?
“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.
“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.
You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”
“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 
“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.
“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 
The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.
“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.
“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.
“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.
“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.
He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”
“Harry. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”
“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 
“You sound so romantic, Harry,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.
“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.
“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.
You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Harry all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 
He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Harry may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.
After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.
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The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing,
Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.
The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”
Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.
His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 
Your breath hitches.
“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”
A whimper escapes you in response.
“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.
Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 
Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 
That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”
Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Harry withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”
His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 
“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.
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Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Harry’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”
Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.
“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.
“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.
“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Harry keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.
Harry maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 
“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.
“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.
“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.
Harry smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.
His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Harry slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 
Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.
Harry settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your lips apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; a thin layer of sweat forming. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface
“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.
“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”
“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.
“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.
“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.
“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”
“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.
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He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.
“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 
Harry reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.
“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..
“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 
“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.
“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.
“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 
You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.
“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”
His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.
“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.
“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.
“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”
“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Harry stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 
You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.
“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.
“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.
You smile.
“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.
“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 
“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 
“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”
“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 
“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”
You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Harry after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.
“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.
“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”
“C-can you touch m-me, please?”
“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 
“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”
“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”
“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”
Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Harry’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.
“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.
“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Harry groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Harry’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”
Harry eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.
“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”
“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 
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“So, was that everything you wanted?” Harry asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.
“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.
“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 
Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 
Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.
“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.
“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 
“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 
“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?
“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 
You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.
Harry’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 
“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.
“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.
“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’s gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.
“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy; up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Harry. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.
“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.
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“You sure you have everything?” Harry asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.
“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?
“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 
How dare he.
“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.
“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.
“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Harry. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.
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c/n: oh my what a ride, right? this is not the last of our brooding pair. you'll see the ending of their story soon!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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ozzgin · 3 months
Text
Yandere! Android x Reader (I)
It is the future and you have been tasked to solve a mysterious murder that could jeopardize political ties. Your assigned partner is the newest android model meant to assimilate human customs. You must keep his identity a secret and teach him the ways of earthlings, although his curiosity seems to be reaching inappropriate extents.
Yes, this is based on Asimov’s “Caves of Steel” because Daneel Olivaw was my first ever robot crush. I also wanted a protagonist that embraces technology. :)
Content: female reader, AI yandere, 50's futurism
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You follow after the little assistant robot, a rudimentary machine invested with basic dialogue and spatial navigation. It had caused quite the ruckus when first introduced. One intern - well liked despite being somewhat clumsy at his job - was sadly let go as a result. Not even the Police is safe from the threat of AI, is what they chanted outside the premises.
"The Commissioner has summoned you, (Y/N)." 
That's how it greeted you earlier, clacking its appendage against the open door in an attempt to simulate a knock. 
"Do you know why my presence is needed?" You inquire and wait for the miniature AI to scan the audio message. 
"I am not allowed to mention anything right now." It finally responds after agonizing seconds.
 It's an alright performance. You might've been more impressed by it, had you not witnessed first hand the Spacer technology that could put any modern invention here on Earth to shame. Sadly the people down here are very much against artificial intelligence. There have been multiple protests recently, like the one in front of your building, condemning the latest government suggestion regarding automation. People fear for their jobs and safety and you don't necessarily blame them for having self preservation. On the other hand, you've always been a supporter of progress. As a child you devoured any science fiction book you could get your hands on, and now, as a high ranked police detective you still manage to sneak away and scan over articles and news involving the race for a most efficient computer.
You close the door behind you and the Commissioner puts his fat cigarette out, twisting the remains into the ashtray with monotonous movements as if searching for the right words.
 "There's been a murder." Is all he settles on saying, throwing a heavy folder in your direction. A hologram or tablet might've been easier to catch, but the man, like many of his coworkers, shares a deep nostalgia for the old days. 
 You flip through the pages and eventually furrow your eyebrows. 
"This would be a disaster if it made it to the news." You mumble and look up at the older man. "Shouldn't this go to someone more experienced?" 
He twiddles with his grey mustache and glances out the fake window. 
"It's a sensitive case. The Spacers are sending their own agent to collaborate with us. What stands out to you?" 
You narrow your eyes and focus on the personnel sheet. What's there to cause such controversy? Right before giving up, departing from the page, you finally notice it: next to the Spacer officer's name, printed clearly in black ink, is a little "R." which is a commonly used abbreviation to indicate something is a robot. The chief must've noticed your startled reaction and continues, satisfied: 
"You understand, yes? They're sending an android. Supposedly it replicates a human perfectly in terms of appearance, but it does not possess enough observational data. Their request is that whoever partners up with him will also house him and let him follow along for the entirety of the mission. You're the only one here openly supporting those tin boxes. I can't possibly ask one of your higher ups, men with wives and children, to...you know...bring that thing in their house."
You're still not sure whether to be offended by the fact that your comfort seems to be of less priority compared to other officers. Regardless of the semantics, you're presently standing at the border between Earth and the Spacer colony, awaiting your case partner. A man emerges from behind a security gate. He's tall, with handsome features and an elegant walk. He approaches you and you reach for a handshake. 
"Is the android with you?" You ask, a little confused. 
"Is this your first time seeing a Spacer model?" He responds, relaxed. "I am the agent in your care. There is no one else." 
You take a moment to process the information, similar to the primitive machine back at your office. Could it be? You've always known that Spacer technology is years ahead, but this surpasses your wildest dreams. There is not a single detail hinting at his mechanical fundament. The movement is fluid, the speech is natural, the design is impenetrable. He lifts the warm hand he'd used for the handshake and gently presses a finger against your chin in an upwards motion. You find yourself involuntarily blushing. 
"Your mouth was open. I assumed you'd want it discreetly corrected." He states, factually, with a faint smile on his lips. Is he amused? Is such a feeling even possible? You try your best to regain some composure, adjusting the collar of your shirt and clearing your throat. 
"Thank you and please excuse my rudeness. I was not expecting such a flawless replica. Our assistants are...easily recognizable as AI."
"So I've been told." His smile widens and he checks his watch. You follow his gesture, still mesmerized, trying to find a single indicator that the man standing before you is indeed a machine, a synthetic product.
Nothing.
"Shall we?" He eyes the exit path and you quickly lead him outside and towards public transport. 
He patiently waits for your fingerprint scan to be complete. You almost turn around and apologize for the old, lagging device. As a senior detective, you have the privilege of living in the more spacious, secured quarters of the city. And, since you don't have a family, the apartment intended for multiple people looks more like a luxury adobe. Still, compared to the advanced way of the Spacers, this must feel like poverty to the android.
At last, the scanner beeps and the door unlocks. 
"Heh...It's a finicky model." You mumble and invite him in.
"Yes, I'm familiar with these systems." He agrees with you and steps inside, unbuttoning his coat.
"Oh, you've seen this before?"
"In history books."
You scratch your cheek and laugh awkwardly, wondering how much of his knowledge about the current life on Earth is presented as a museum exhibit when compared to Spacer society. 
"I'm going to need a coffee. I guess you don't...?" Your words trail as you await confirmation. 
"I would enjoy one as well, if it is not too much to ask. I've been told it's a social custom to 'get coffee' as a way to have small talk." The synthetic straightens his shirt and looks at you expectantly. 
"Of course. I somehow assumed you can't drink, but if you're meant to blend in with humans...it does make sense you'd have all the obvious requirements built in."
He drags a chair out and sits at the small table, legs crossed.
"Indeed. I have been constructed to have all the functions of a human, down to every detail." 
You chuckle lightly. Well, not like you can verify it firsthand. The engineers back at the Spacer colony most likely didn't prepare him for matters considered unnecessary. 
"I do mean every detail." He adds, as if reading your mind. "You are free to see for yourself."
You nearly drop the cup in your flustered state. You hurry to wipe the coffee that spilled onto the counter and glance back at the android, noticing a smirk on his face. What the hell? Are they playing a prank on you and this is actually a regular guy? Some sort of social experiment? 
"I can see they included a sense of humor." You manage to blurt out, glaring at him suspiciously. 
"I apologize if I offended you in any way. I'm still adjusting to different contexts." The android concludes, a hint of mischief remaining on his face. "Aren't rowdy jokes common in your field of work?"
"Uh huh. Spot on." You hesitantly place the hot drink before him.
Robots on Earth have always been built for the purpose of efficiency. Whether or not a computer passes the Turing Test is irrelevant as long as it performs its task in the most optimal, rational way. There have been attempts, naturally, to create something indistinguishable from a human, but utility has always taken precedence. It seems that Spacers think differently. Or perhaps they have reached their desired level of performance a long time ago, and all that was left was fiddling with aesthetics. Whatever the case is, you're struggling not to gawk in amazement at the man sitting in your kitchen, stirring his coffee with a bored expression.
"I always thought - if you don't mind my honesty - that human emotions would be something to avoid when building AI. Hard to implement, even harder to control and it doesn't bring much use."
"I can understand your concerns. However, let me reassure you, I have a strict code of ethics installed in my neural networks and thus my emotions will never lead to any destructive behavior. All safety concerns have been taken into consideration.
As for why...How familiar are you with our colony?" The android takes a sip of his coffee and nods, expressing his satisfaction. "Perhaps you might be aware, Spacers have a declining population. Automated assistants have been part of our society for a long time now. What's lacking is humans. If the issue isn't fixed, artificial humans will have to do."
You scoff.
"What, us Earth men aren't good enough to fix the birth rates? They need robots?"
You suddenly remember the recipient of your complaint and mutter an apology. 
"Well, I'm sure you'd make a fine contender. Sadly I can't speak for everyone else on Earth." The man smiles in amusement upon seeing the pale red that's now dusting your cheeks, then continues: "But the issue lies somewhere else. Spacers have left Earth a long time ago and lived in isolation until now. Once an organism has lost its immune responses to otherwise common pathogens, it cannot be reintegrated."
True. Very few Earth citizens are allowed to enter the colony, and only do so after thorough disinfection stages, proving they are disease free as to not endanger the fragile health of the Spacers living in a sterile environment. You can only imagine the disastrous outcome if the two species were to abruptly mingle. In that case, equally sterile machinery might be their only hope.
Your mind wanders to the idea. Dating a robot...How's that? You sheepishly gaze at the android and study his features. His neatly combed copper hair, the washed out blue eyes, the pale skin. Probably meant to resemble the Spacers. You shake your head.
"A-anyways, I'll go and gather all the case files I have. Then we can discuss our first steps. Do feel at home."
You rush out and head for your office. Focus, you tell yourself mildly annoyed.
While you search for the required paperwork - what a funny thing to say in this day and age - he will certainly take up on your generous offer to make himself comfortable. The redhaired man enters the living room, scanning everything with curious eyes. He stops in front of a digital frame and slides through the photos. Ah, this must be your Police Academy graduation. The year matches with the data he's received on you. Data files he might've read one too many times in his unexplained enthusiasm. This should be you and the Commissioner; Doesn't match the description of your father, and he seems too old to be a spouse or boyfriend. Additionally, the android distinctly recalls the empty 'Relationship' field.
"Old photos are always a tad embarrassing. I suppose you skipped that stage."
He jolts almost imperceptibly and faces you. You have returned with a thin stack of papers and a hologram projector.
"I've digitalized most files I received, so you don't have to shuffle a bunch of paper around." You explain.
"That is very useful, thank you." He gently retrieves the small device from your hand, but takes a moment before removing his fingers from yours. "I predict this will be a successful partnership."
You flash him a friendly smile and gesture towards the seating area.
"Let's get to work, then. Unless you want to go through more boring albums." You joke as you lower yourself onto the plush sofa. 
The synthetic human joins you at an unexpectedly close proximity. You wonder if proper distance differs among Spacers or if he has received slightly erroneous information about what makes a comfortable rapport. 
"Nothing boring about it. In fact, I'd say you and I are very similar from this point of view." He tells you, placing the projector on the table.
"Oh?"
"Your interest in technology and artificial intelligence is rather easy to infer." The man continues, pointing vaguely towards the opposing library. "Aside from the briefing I've already received about you, that is."
"And that is similar to...the interest in humans you've been programmed to have?" You interject, unsure where this conversation is meant to lead. 
"Almost."
His head turns fully towards you and you stare back into his eyes. From this distance you can finally discern the first hints of his nature: the thin disks shading the iris - possibly CCD sensors - are moving in a jagged, mechanical manner. Actively analyzing and processing the environment. 
"I wouldn't go as far as to generalize it to all humans. 
Just you."
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norrussell · 5 months
Text
Read to me. | Lando Norris⁴
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Pairings: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader
Summary: after a hard day, Lando knows he can always turn to you for some comfort... And then give something in return
Warnings: fluff with smut hehe
A/N: I tried writing pure fluff and failed. I split it into two though and put another divider so you can finish with the fluff part without having to read the smut if you don't want to :)
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The sun had already set when Lando returned home from his day out working with sponsors. He opened the door of your shared bedroom, finding you already in your pajamas, absorbed in a book. Smiling a little, he leaned against the door frame silently watching you, exhaustion thick on his face.
"Hey, baby," you finally took notice of him, glancing up and putting the book down for a moment to softly greet him.
"Hey," he slowly made his way towards the bed, crawling until he snuggled into your lap.
"Long day?" one of your hands immediately tangled into his curls, beginning to massage his scalp. He closed his eyes, groaning in satisfaction.
"You've no idea." he mumbled, relaxing under your touch.
As he rested in your lap, you couldn't help but notice how worn out he looked and it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders the moment he sank into your embrace. You kept working your fingers through his hair, feeling the muscles in his body become increasingly relaxed with each stroke.
"Want to talk about it?" you asked gently, knowing how much he tended to keep to himself when it came to work. He shook his head, burrowing deeper into your lap.
"Not really," he sighed. "Just a lot of meetings, a lot of people trying to get a piece of me. It gets exhausting after a while."
You nodded in understanding, continuing to run your fingers through his locks. The room fell silent, the only sounds the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle as you adjusted your position. It was a comfortable silence, one that only came with the familiarity of years spent together.
"How was your day?" you smiled at the question, knowing that Lando always made an effort to ask about you no matter how tired he was.
"It was good," you replied, thinking back to the meetings you had and the progress you made on your latest project. "Productive, but not as eventful as yours."
Lando chuckled, his breath tickling your stomach. "I'll take boring over exhausting any day," he said, his eyes still closed.
The two of you sat in quiet once more - you continuing to read your book and Lando finding interest in his phone - enjoying the comfort of each other's company. Eventually, Lando put his phone down and nestled himself between your legs, his head on your lower abdomen.
"Could you read to me?" he asked, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. It wasn't unusual question. He often asked you to do so or just talk to him in general cause he loved falling asleep to the sound of your voice.
"Of course." you smiled softly at him, running your hand through his hair once more before grabbing your book and flipping to the page you left off on.
When you began to read, Lando closed his eyes and listened intently to your tone. It was soothing and calming, and he found himself slipping into a peaceful state. He loved how your voice gently lilted up and down, as if the words you read were a lullaby meant only for him.
As you read on, Lando's hands found their way to your sides, tickling you ever so slightly, causing you to giggle. You playfully swatted his hands away, but he persisted, his fingers dancing along your skin.
"You're such a child," you chuckled, but you didn't mind. It was moments like these that made you appreciate how carefree and playful Lando could be.
"You love it," he grinned, his hands still tickling you mercilessly.
You tried to push him away, but he was too quick, his fingers finding every sensitive spot on your body. You couldn't help but laugh, the sound filling the room and mixing with the sound of your voice as you continued reading.
Finally, you managed to catch his hands, holding them still. Lando pouted, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. "I thought you wanted me to read to you?"
"Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said, still grinning.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile on your face. "You really are a child," you teased, but your tone was affectionate.
Lando shrugged, his grin still firmly in place. "What can I say? You bring out the playful side in me."
You shook your head, but couldn't help, but feel fondness for the man in your lap. He may have been exhausted from work, but he always managed to find a way to make you laugh and give you attention.
Your reading continued and Lando stilled once more, his breathing becoming slower and more even making you believe he had fallen asleep. However, when you turned to the next page, you heard him let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing even further against you. You smiled at the sound, feeling content with the moment. It was simple, but you found that it was often the simplest moments that brought the most joy.
You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Lando's forehead, careful so as not to disturb his peace. You knew that he needed his rest and you were happy to just watch him sleep and take in the moment.
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But he was not ready to drift off just yet as his fingers started slowly caressing your legs, reaching upwards to the outside of your thighs.
You paused mid sentence, glancing down at Lando to see if he was awake. His eyes were still closed, but his hands continued their slow, deliberate movements up your legs. A shiver ran through you, and you couldn't help the way your breath caught in your throat.
"Lando?" you asked softly, unsure if he was awake or not.
He didn't answer, but his fingertips kept tracing patterns over your skin. He turned over, lightly brushing the tip of his nose over your inner thighs. Your heart skipped a beat as his lips travelled higher and higher up your body, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the way. You could feel the heat building between your legs, and you knew that you were getting wet.
"Lando, what are you doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and arousal.
"Keep going, baby, keep reading," he continued to kiss his way up, his hands holding your hips steady. You couldn't help, but squirm under his touch, your body already primed for him.
With no other choice, you resumed reading, your voice a bit shaky at the thought of what Lando was going to do to you.
Still teasing, Lando's hands travelled along the inside of your legs, making your lips quiver in response. You struggled to keep reading, the words in front of you starting to blur. With a final flick of his wrist, your panties were gone, and you were completely exposed to him.
"You're doing such a good job, really making me interested in the story..." Lando's voice ghosted over your skin, causing you to shiver.
And before you could turn over the next page, he buried his face between your legs. Your breath hitched as you felt his tongue against your pussy, licking and tasting every inch of you. You threw your head back, panting as his tongue flicked against your clit. He was slow and gentle at first, just teasing you with butterfly kisses. But it wasn't long before his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, his mouth closing over you.
"I didn't tell you to stop reading, did I?" he asked, his voice muffled as he spoke. You shook your head, hands crumpling the book cover as you tried to focus on the text before you. "I'll stop if you do."
But he wouldn't let you. Instead, his mouth closed around your clit, sucking on it as his fingers teased your opening. You gasped, your body shuddering as his fingers slipped inside you, teasing you at the same time.
"Fuck, Lando..." you moaned, the pitch of your voice rising.
"Now, babe, I'm pretty sure that isn't part of the text," he teased, pulling his fingers out of you once more.
"No, no," you whimpered, your eyes pleading with him to keep going. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin.
"Please, Lando," you begged, your voice breathless once more.
"Say it, baby," he said softly, his breath hot against you.
"I'm sorry, please, don't stop," you whispered, knowing what he needed to hear.
"Good girl, such a good girl," he said approvingly before going back to what he was doing.
This time, he didn't tease you. Rather, he pressed his lips firmly over your clit, sucking on it hard. You cried out loudly, your hips bucking wildly as he pressed two fingers deep into your wet, dripping cunt. His fingers worked you fast and hard, curling upwards to tease your g-spot. You could feel your muscles tightening, pleasure radiating through your body as you got closer and closer to the edge.
"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna come," you said breathlessly, your legs shaking as you tried to keep them open for him.
"I didn't tell you to come, did I?" he asked, his fingers still working away at your wet, needy pussy, this time even harder than before.
"No, please, I'm so close..." you trailed off, your body trembling on the brink.
"Beg for it, baby. Tell me how much you want to come. Use your words." he said firmly, his fingers increasing their speed. He knew you were close, and he loved the way your body shook beneath his touch.
"Fuck, I need to come, please, let me come," you whimpered, tossing your head back as you tried to hold on a little longer.
"Oh, really?" he asked, his fingers stilling for a moment. He loved denying you, loved denying you the pleasure you so desperately wanted, especially when you were this close.
"Yes, please, I'm almost there," you begged, your voice tight with arousal as you tried to keep yourself from orgasming.
"You really want to come?" he asked, his fingers stilling completely.
"Yes!"
"I'm not sure that's a part of the story, you know," he smirked, looking up at you.
"Please, Lando," you gasped, the sensations of his touch shaking your body.
"Why should I let you come, baby? What's it going to take?" he asked, his fingers lightly dancing against your clit.
"I don't know, I don't care, just finish what you started," you pleaded, your voice breathless and needy.
"I'll think about it," he teased, his fingers still circling against your clit.
"Lando!" you screamed. You tried to push yourself over the edge, but it was no use. He just wasn't going to let you come.
You bit your lip, doing your best not to cry out in frustration. He removed his fingers, and you could feel the cool air on your wet skin. And before you could turn over another page, his fingers plunged into you once more, his tongue returning to tease your clit.
"I thought I told you to keep reading," he said, his fingers picking up the pace once more.
You tried to focus on the words on the page, but it was no use. It was impossible to focus when he was doing that to you.
"Such a good girl, such a good girl," he murmured. "Come for me, baby, just for me."
And that was all it took, your body breaking over the edge as you came hard against his mouth. Your moans filled the room, his name falling from your lips as you rode out your orgasm.
You slumped back against the pillows, your breathing heavy as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Lando pulled up your panties, his fingers gentle as he ran them over your skin.
"Ready for the next chapter?" he grinned innocently, his lips brushing against your inner thigh.
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kitchen-spoon · 4 months
Text
Steve who finishes hair school in Indianapolis then moves to LA because he wants to do hair for movies.
He can’t find a job on a film set right away so in an attempt to get closer to the industry he starts booking at home hair drying & styling through an app.
When he starts its mostly older rich ladies who book him before dinners with their husbands business partners or soirées with their girlfriends. It reminds him a bit too much of his own mother but he pushes that aside in hopes that one day he gives the right rich lady an at home blow out.
That day comes but it isn’t a rich lady. Instead cut to Chrissy manager of newly famous up and coming band corroded coffin, desperate and scrambling. It was the day the band was meant to be shooting their music video for their latest single but the hair stylist they booked called in sick that morning. Out of desperation Chrissy gets on the app and hires Steve. He has 4 stars and over 20 positive reviews and she is running out of options.
Steve sees the name chrissy and sees its for a music video and assumes he is going to be doing some fun bouncy youthful hair for an up and coming pop star. Imagine his shock when heavily pierced and tattooed lead singer of corroded coffin Eddie Munson sits down in his chair with his curly birds nest of hair. Steve does his job though, detangling and defining Eddie’s curls. Steve is even more shocked though, when it turns out Eddie is actually super sweet and…kind of charming? He might even be flirting?
Steve is unsure through the whole day and all of the touch ups he does. There is plausible deniability to all the light touches and brushing against one another that happens. Until the end of the day when Eddie comes to him looking frustrated. Instantly Steve’s stomach drops, he seemed happy with the style all day! If he didn’t like it why film a whole music video with it?
“Steve.” Eddie stops in front of him. “Look, I’m just gonna be blunt.”
Steve’s eyes go wide and he clears his throat, “uh, yeah sure go for it.”
“Am I an idiot who has been flirting with a straight guy all day?” Eddie asked.
All the air left Steve’s lungs, he couldn’t help the small wheeze that escaped him. “No you haven’t I- god Eddie.” Steve started giggling with relief, he even felt a little dizzy with it. “I’ve been trying to keep it together all day, thinking I was delusional and you were just really nice.”
“Oh,” it was Eddie’s turn to widen his eyes. Then a huge smile broke out in his face. “No delusions there, I was definitely flirting with you all day.” He paused taking one of his curls between his hands and separating it causing it to frizz. “And uh, would love to keep flirting with you over dinner tonight…if you’re interested?”
Steve smiled reaching forward taking the curl from Eddie. He began smoothing it back together and smiled warmly. “I’d love to.”
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essenteez · 5 months
Text
𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 choi san 18+
"if i'm the bad wolf, you have to the moon. cause no one makes me howl the way your body does."
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"The release came too fast, too powerful. The pleasure seemed to be ruining. It made you subconsciously try to push him away, to slow his actions down but no use. He was unmoved. And at that moment, you realized the meaning behind his name “mountain”. It wasn't just a name. It was a warning."
☾ synopsis : ever since your boyfriend has gotten his new tattoo - beautiful moon phases climbing up his spine - you always fail to keep your composure when looking at it. it draws you to touch it, drag your fingers, nails, tongue... however, the worst mistake you made was letting san see your poor self-control. now, he makes sure to always use his new card in this game of "who gives up first."
☾ pairing : san x f!reader
☾ genre : smut, one-shot
☾ warnings : explicit language, teasing, ass slapping, unprotected sex, thigh riding, fingering, commands, dick riding, big size, f! struggles to take it, mirror sex, back scratches, missionary, rough sex, penetration, breeding.
☾ words : 4k
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NOTE : When I saw his back and the tattoo during mama performance, trust me, the sounds I made were inhuman. I will never recover from this. The power he bias wrecked me that moment should be studied :,) this piece is my ode to this tattoo
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You failed yet again.
The temptation painted your sight in red while your willpower was at its lowest. In crushing defeat; saying goodnight to your dignity, you reached out your hand and dragged your finger down your boyfriend's naked spine.
You gulped quietly at San’s defined back muscles, now tensing under the touch of your sharp acrylic nail.
You began tracking the lines of his new tattoo. The moon cycle. Nine separate arts spread from his neck down to his slim waist. The work was beautifully done, impressive, and constantly begging you to touch it.
“You're really a fan of my latest whim.” He purred leisurely, stretching like a cat on the bed.
“Whim?” You chuckled. “You planned this tattoo for months.”
San looked so relaxed, laying on his belly as if he was waiting for a massage service. But you had a better idea.
The book you initially wanted to read was finally tossed aside. Positive reviews really made you curious. The plan for this evening was to indulge in the literature and find out if the recommendations were not bullshit.
But then your boyfriend decided to visit you in the late hours just to take off his shirt and spread his whole body on your bed. Apparently, he was tired after dance practice, so he quickly took a shower and went straight to your apartment.
Yeah, right. You had known him for years, and you knew how tired San looked like. The San that was now laying beside you had a lot of energy to spend. And there was no dance practice on Fridays.
“Not true! At first, it was supposed to be drawn only for the awards, you know, part of the lore? But I really liked how it looked. And the decision to make it real was sudden!"
“Fine.” You smiled at his cute indignation. “I'm happy that it's real, actually.”
“Why is that?”
His head rested on his hands, facing away from the spot where you sat. You used that opportunity of being out of his sight and of his guard being down.
The wickest giggle escaped your chords, “Cause now I can do this.”
You leaned over his lower back, right beyond the first tattoo of waning crescent moon. He twitched at the touch of your tongue, shamelessly climbing up his bare spine.
“Fuuuck, baby.” He whined somewhat relieved, as if he waited for that exact move of yours.
Not caring that you probably danced to his tune, you were now making your way back down with slow and juicy kisses. San’s whole body began waving at the tingling sensation. His body temperature rose rapidly. You could feel it through the thin skin of your lips.
Every single tattoo had its lines carefully traced with your tongue and then adorned with an invisible mark of your mouth. San was yours, all yours to enjoy.
Your boyfriend loved it with every fiber of his body. You could tell by the way he subconsciously hummed the melody of pure bliss. You could see it by how his sun kissed skin covered with goosebumps and how his body rose and fell from deeper and faster breathing.
You repeated the route a few times before reaching for his neck to bury your face in it. Inhaling his intoxicating smell; a mixture of soap, shampoo, and pheromones, you caused your own mind to spin.
Touching, kissing, and smelling that man was enough to make the muscles around your entrance grow tighter. You felt yourself getting incredibly wet.
“Baby…” He gasped when your teeth softly grabbed his earlobe.
His desperate pleas made you inhale sharply. You would have given him the heads of his enemies just to hear him whimper like that again.
“Hmm?”
“Promise you won't leave me grinding my dick onto your sheets like that.” Oh, his needy whines were truly to die for.
Your eyes wandered down his glistening spine right onto his shaply bottom. Slight circling movements of his hips made the cockiest smile crawl onto your mouth.
“So impatient.” You hummed.
His plump asscheeks had your head in the whirl. You needed that ass moving like that between your legs. Your cunt cried sweet tears when your head filled with the vision of San using his trained pelvis to thrust his way inside you.
You groaned in his ear, pleased at the sound that his sin worthy cheek made at the abrupt contact with your hand.
“You little shhhhit.” He hissed in full arousal at the sudden surprise and now the prickling skin.
“Oh apologies, my moon prince.” You pouted with fake guilt. To ease his abused ass, you grabbed a handful of his flesh and gave it a proper massage.
Using this opportunity, you pushed him more and more against the mattress, and you went back to teasing his neck, ear, and temple.
“Moon prin…ah fuuck.” He had no chance to ask you to elaborate on his new nickname. The new, deepened friction between his hardening cock and your satin sheets sent electric waves up his body. It reached all his nerves, which woke up just to act stupid from all the delightful stimulations.
San shifted his head to your side. The pillow traces on his cheek made you want to kiss it. But you focused on his hazy eyes and parted lips, drying up from needness.
“You're cruel, you know?” He whispered.
You laid down next to him, face to face. Obsessed, your hand never let go of his ass, groping and squeezing the plum. You stopped pushing his pelvis down. However, San kept grinding, now deeper and more aggressive.
“Look who's talking.” You teasingly licked his lips. “I had plans for this evening but you stormed into my room, exposing your beautiful chest, broad shoulders and slutty waist while wearing these black thin shorts.”
His smirk said it all.
“You're well aware that the outlines of your thighs are enough to make me drip, yet here you are.” You scoffed in frustration. ”And now that damn tattoo…”
San shifted to lay on the side, chest against chest with you. You were pulled closer to him by having your waist embraced by his strong arm, the other slid under your head to stop you from leaving.
You had no chance to react when your night dress got pulled up your hips. In a brutal way, your thong got ripped off you. There was not a chance to say anything since he immediately pushed his knee between your rubbing thighs.
“You're right.” He chuckled, feeding on your loud gasps. “I just love to see you struggle to contain yourself around me.”
San didn't have to do anything to have you grind on his thigh. You craved his touch, from the softest to cruelest, all over and inside your body
“San, ah.” You whimpered into his lips as you felt him purposely tensing up his muscles underneath you. The enhanced lines rubbed against you, making every cell in your body vibrate.
You put your hands flat on his chest. His heart beat so fast, chasing the pace of your pulse resonating in your head. No language could ever explain how much you needed him. Only your eyes could show him. Only your heat, wetness could make him feel it, and you were absolutely soaked, so much you heard squelched noises getting louder with every grind. Your shame was gone. All that mattered was a release granted to you by this beautiful man.
Your lips were brushing, noses rubbing, you breathed each other's air. The teasing, who gives up first and kisses the other, built up the tension to the point it was palpable. But the need to indulge in your taste made San lose the duel.
At first, he gently bit on your lower lip as if it was a fruit, and he wanted to see if it was ripe enough to be fully devoured.
“Pure sweetness.” He murmured with a low tone.
The moment your lips interlocked, San became braver with his actions. He stroked his hardness against your soft womb but it was your taste, scent, your closeness, the way your eyes shone and your pussy called for him that brought him to the edge of losing control. He swallowed your moans and let go only when you couldn't catch a breath from the crushing bliss.
“You're so loveable, (y/n).” He spoke as much as his own problems with breathing allowed him to. He was so hard it almost hurt, and you were so… “So touchable, irresistible. And so damn fuckable.”
“San-” You were close. His arm around your waist tightened, resulting in him fully controlling the speed of your movements.
“You'll be a good girl for me, won't you?” He growled into your lips. “I also planned this evening, you know. To pump you full, to the brim. To sit you down on my cock and watch you struggle to take it. I need that tattoo scratched with your nails. You hear me?”
The ecstasy chased you, but it was his words that tipped the scale. The fog covered your sight, and the sensation made your head fall back.
“Let's prepare you for the ride, shall we?”
San made a space between your drained folds and his wet, sticky thigh, and he slid his hand. His two digits found your entrance without a problem. Feeling them entering you, switching from stimulating your clit to pushing your sweet spot, you were done.
“Oh fuck, fuck yes.” You cried, banging at his broad chest.
San lips attached to your exposed neck, sucking, nibbling on the sensitive skin. That did not disturb him to finger you as his life depended on it.
The release came too fast, too powerful. The pleasure seemed to be ruining. It made you subconsciously try to push him away, to slow his actions down but no use. He was unmoved. And at that moment, you realized the meaning behind his name “mountain”. It wasn't just a name. It was a warning.
And you moaned that name, whined it while tossing and turning in the arms of its owner.
“Hmmm yeeees. Cum for me… cum cum cum cum.” He led you right into the void of madness.
Waves of pure bliss hit you one after another. He pushed you slightly onto your back and hovered above you. His fingers kept reentering your walls ruthlessly. The pace fastened. San needed to fuck the last ounce of orgasm out of you. He had to see you desperate for more. And you gave that to him, you gave it all.
When your trembling began to fade, he finally withdrew his long fingers. They left your slit with a pop sound as your walls did not want to let them go.
“Mmmm, so satisfying.” He cooed with a smug look on his face.
You were soaked, dripping down on your freshly changed sheets. Only San could bring you to the state like that. Only he was able to work you out.
And he knew it too well. That was why he savored your taste on his tongue each time, collecting your essence from his digits as a reward. This was his ritual with you, and he felt like pulling the knife at any man who would try to take his place.
It was a little embarrassing to cum this hard from a foreplay. He could see it in your face. Oh, he would enjoy holding it against you later, then having you challenge him just so he could prove you the point yet again. Perhaps you wouldn't be this defeated with another man. And that thought alone stroked his ego in all the right directions. The cruel prince had awakened.
While he let you catch a breath, he sat down and took care of his shorts all wet from you and his own precum. They landed next to the shreds that once was a thong.
Nonchalantly, San went back to tower over your recovering body.
“Such a good, good girl you are, (y/n). You make me want to brag about you everywhere I go.” He focused on your lips. “And I think I will. You deserve a big kiss, baby.”
You quietly sobbed at another touch of his lips on yours. San grabbed your jaw to keep you in place so he can fully immerse in you. You grabbed onto him. Arms around his shoulders, legs embracing his waist.
“More.” You whispered weakly, breaking the kiss. “Please.”
With a merciful smirk, San embraced and secured your back. He had no trouble picking you up and sitting down with you in his arms.
“It's your call, baby.” He gently kissed your neck. “I'm all yours.”
It was your turn to move.
His cock deliciously throbbed between your legs, hard and swollen, tip tinted purple. San was more than ready. His eyes demanded you ride him until you were both sweaty messes. He clearly told you what he planned for tonight.
You gave him a few slow strokes and massaged his peak, which he awarded you for with impatient curses. Depending on the position, his length as well as width could be too much for you sometimes.
But you, adjusting to his size, was what he lived for. The tight embrace of your wall required a lot of self-control to not combust immediately. You were a challenge he would never fail to accept.
You raised your hips, teasingly sliding his tip up and down your slit. You trembled anytime it brushed your entrance.
“I know you can take it.” He encouraged you with this annoying amusement in his voice. Oh, how weak you were for this arrogant man.
Placing his hands on your thighs, he gently caressed them, drawing soothing circles with his thumbs. San began to watch the show as you welcomed him inside.
“Of fuck.” You hissed at the stretch. Supporting yourself on his shoulders didn't help. You sucked him in on your own.
The air abruptly left his lungs as your pussy graced his manhood with the first silkiest hug tonight. He wanted to act tough, intimidating with his cocky smile, but you felt like heaven.
San fought hard. You whetted his big appetite. He wished he had taken the matters in his hands, but he couldn't just pin it to you. Also, where was the fun in that? He preferred to watch you cry and struggle as he sunk deeper inside your warmth, inch by inch, without mercy.
“Shit, you're sooo tight.” He gasped out at how you began working on suck him dry.
Possessed with pleasure, San waited until you got more comfortable with his size. And the moment he felt you loosened and the relief ghosted your face, he knew he could push into you fully.
You shook on your whole body when he moved his hips up and finally reached his goal.
“Ruude.” You whimpered, feeling absolutely intoxicated all stuffed like that.
While you tried to gather your thoughts, San released your breasts from the night dress and buried his face in their plush. He inhaled the pure scent of your bare skin. You smelled sweet and spicy, exactly like your personality.
“You know me. I like being rude.” He smirked. “And I know you. You like it too.”
He was right. The struggle was real, but even that provided you with indescribable bliss. And now, when you engulfed him fully, the satisfaction was out the roof.
San firmly put his hands on your hips and moved them without a word of warning.
Waves of delight washed upon you when his tip swept over your sweet spot, “Waaait, I- ne-ed to aah!”
But he didn't listen. He couldn't stop, not with you taking him so well, not when you were dripping all over his thighs.
Under his control, you felt him reach new depths with every grind. Setting the pace, he didn't need to lead you anymore. The fullness you felt was driving you crazy. You put your head on his shoulder, hands on his back, and you rode him, deep and starving.
“If I'm your moon prince. Then what does that make you? My moon?” He asked out of nowhere as if he wasn’t just penetrating the deepest corners of your womanhood and making you lose your senses.
You couldn't answer. You could not form a single word.
“Hmm?” He was stubborn, despite swallowing his own moans. “Are you my moon?”
You mumbled something. The force his dick rubbed on your sweet spot took away your ability to think, let alone speak. You felt every beat in his veins. But San needed you to play along.
A juicy smack landed on your ass, “Are you?”
You mustered a little will to answer his demands, “Ye-es.”
He kissed your collar bone gently, which clashed with the treatment you received somewhere else.
“Then let me howl at you the whole night.”
With these words, his arms embraced your waist and shifted your whole weight onto himself. You were lifted up a little bit, enough so he had space to pound on you as freely as he could.
San began claiming you, rough and madly. His hips moved underneath you while his eyes studied every emotion on your face.
“Look at yourself.” He breathed out. “Look how cute you are, melting around my dick like that.”
Ah, yes. The mirror in front of your bed.
San never failed to remind you about it when you were getting intimate. He never failed to use it as a tool.
You didn't hang it there to watch yourself getting demolished. There was really no other place in your room to put this big mirror you bought on a very beneficial sale. But ever since you brought San in your apartment, the reflection stopped being associated with only checking your appearance.
You raised your half shut eyes at your face. You stared at how pathetic you were and how much you didn't care about it. You watched your features contorted in delight when San reached deeper and now was hitting your cervix unforgivably. You heard your own cries from the power, tears rolling down your cheeks. It felt so good, unearthly good.
The moment the frequency of your walls’ spasm grew, he sat you down on his cock again, burying his whole face in your neck. Now both your bodies rocked back and forth.
“It's too much.” You pinned your nails into his back and dragged them against his skin.
San cursed between hisses, making you look at the marks you just made. There was no blood, but the lines were getting bright red.
The was something about the way his wide back muscles moved while holding you tight, fucking you mindlessly. You focused on the tattoo that started it all. It worked on you like a flame on a moth. Every little thing pushed you closer and closer to the point of breaking. The way his body felt under your touch, how it moved with one goal - to have you scream.
He smelled like a late summer day, despite the outside weather being cold. The sweet sound he moaned into your ear made your whole existence buzz.
“I can't hold it anymore.” You informed him breathlessly. “I'm about to cum. But I can't…I can't…”
That position, despite allowing him to penetrate you the deepest, tended to exhaust you. San could tell it, by the way your movements slowed down compared to your need for release. Gladly, he had more strength than enough to take care of you.
He, himself, needed you to sob his name as he took you like an animal. San had nothing against slow, passionate sex but with you, it was simply impossible. You occupied his mind every second of the day. There were many nights he spent alone due to tours and busy schedules, sleepless nights, spent on quietly moaning out your name as his drenched cock throbbed in his hand. So when he finally had you in his arms, he let all the hunger out. San couldn't get enough of you. Calling it addiction would've been an understatement. You were his object of worship.
With the sudden overflow of motivation, he effortlessly changed your position that would allow him to give his goddess the finish she deserved. Your weakening body was laid down on its back. His pride did not slide out of you, even for a moment.
“Baby...” You called for him, but all you received was a glance, a momentary view of his eyes that were like the ones of a wild wolf.
San pulled your hips up to fuck you in the most suitable angle. His firm grasp kept you in place. The next goal was to set the pace that was going to have you cumming in seconds.
His elastic pelvis graced you with powerful yet skillful thrusts. His tip attacked your sensitive center, not letting it rest. You got even wetter, slicker to the point he didn't feel when he was going in and out of you.
“San, I'm…” You gasped, not able to make a sound. The control over your body belonged to San.
You broke beneath him.
The extreme heat accumulated in your abdomen exploded, flooding you from head to toes. Your sight blurred, heart pounded in your chest. The loud cries from the indescribable pleasure overcame any other sound in the room. There was no way to stop the severe trembling. It was too much. He was too much for your fragile, sensitive body to handle all this differently. You shattered into small pieces around him. And you would do it again and again.
San leaned above you with his hands on both sides of your head. You saw the sweat dripping down his neck and chest, and it drove you insane.
“My balls prepared a nice load for my moon.” He grunted with trouble. “And you will take it all. Every drop.”
His command, like a charm, had your cramping walls grab onto the base of his cock, their fast pulse forcely ripped the orgasm out of him.
“Ah fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!” He whined, shooting his rich load inside you. You accepted his throbs and spasms like a reward, with pure bliss.
San took his time, sliding in and out, painting your walls in white with his essence. Loud curses and moans leaving his throat were a reminder that you absolutely belonged to him.
“Fuck baby, the way you tighten around me when you cum...” He groaned, melting over the satisfying sensation. “Paradise.”
You embraced him with so much appreciation and love when he laid on you, forbidding him from exiting you.
He looked at your closed eyes and their teary corners. He studied your parted lips that he wanted to kiss constantly. You were so perfect, all wasted like that.
To calm you both down, he leaned to the side and began caressing your neck with lazy smooches. Your quiet, adorable little moans in response to his affection made the blood rush in his veins again.
“More.” He whispered desperately in your ear. “I need…more.”
He paid closer attention to your bare breasts. They called for him, bouncing slightly as he began to move his hips in circles. Your erected buds hardened, caught in his skillful lips. Body decided for you. It yearned for him once more.
“Baby…” You entangled your fingers in his black hair, feeling him slowly thickening inside you.
“There is still so much I wanna do to you. I'm so horny for you, baby.” His raspy, sultry tone was enough to make your pussy flutter. And he felt that with every ounce of his being. There was no better feeling than your desire for him.
The art on his back crossed your spinning mind. You found the culprit of this insatiability.
“Damn you, tattoo.” You giggled. “I really wanted to read that book tonight.”
He lined up his face with yours and gave you that well-known, disarming smile with dimples that had you and all his fans go weak in the knees.
Little did you know, the tattoo you were now cursing wasn't his "latest whim". The moment he saw your eyes shine at the drawn one, he immediately decided to have it forever engraved on his skin. Now San had his own little trick to keep your full attention on no one else but him.
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@nateezfics @hazysan 💋
2K notes · View notes
astraystayyh · 8 months
Text
Say yes to me
after your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.
pt. 2 of say yes to heaven. highly recommend reading it first (it's short i promise and it sets the mood ajsjd)
a.n: and if i told y'all i wrote this in one go... when i say hyune possesses me i MEAN it... these two pics sit at the same table for me, and three people asked for a second part and i can't say no to you guys!! ENJOY, feedback is highly appreciated as always <33
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There are a lot of things that Hyunjin wishes he could say to you.
How he loves you is first.
Hyunjin never planned on keeping secrets from you. Ones he carefully tucked away at the corner of his mouth, ready to spill each time your gaze met his.
He still remembers when it all started vividly- how the friendship blossomed into something more for him, the way petals shyly unfurl on the first days of spring.
You were sitting next to him on the bench of your favorite park, ice cream in your hands. Hyunjin intently watched as you rambled about your latest essay, and the world seemed to fall into a tranquil silence, save for the sound of your voice.
Hyunjin suddenly found himself enthralled by the way the sunlight gently grazed your cheeks, painting them with the softest golden hue. One he tried to replicate many times in his paintings, but to no avail, as they could never live up to you.
How the light breeze danced upon your hair, swaying it gently from left to right. How your lips moved with each word, pulling him into an unyielding trance. Those very lips that graced his skin with kisses, months later, scorching themselves into his memory.
Sometimes it still felt surreal, almost too good to be true, that you left traces of yourself on him. That he had you graze his jaw and collarbones, tentatively, as if you were afraid to dive in fully. "I'd catch you", he wanted to say, "even if it meant I'd drown in the process."
He wasn't ashamed to admit that he took a picture of the lipstick stains you left on him. He didn't even realize they were there at first, that is until he went to Changbin's bathroom. There, under the dim lighting, he found that the blush creeping up his neck matched the shade of your lipstick. His body seamlessly entwined itself with everything that made you.
He felt like a shaky tree branch at your hands- dainty leaves falling at your feet, each one scribbled with love notes for you. And he could no longer contain this feeling within him. He was tired of this five month old secret. He wanted to be an open book, one you could read or toss around, as long as you'd touch it.
But he needed to gather his thoughts and plan how he'd say it. How he'd free this scary confession from the confines of his heart. He told you that you'd talk about it later, and it's already been twelve days since he's last seen you. He had to do it soon.
So he went to his cabin, the one he rents on the weekends when he needs to get away from the world. It's small, nestled away in a remote part of the town, with a golden chandelier dangling in its living room- it's where Hyunjin feels most like himself.
Hyunjin doesn't hear your car pulling up into the driveway. Or your hurried steps to the door. But he hears your urgent knocks, and he's confused as he pushes the doorknob down. Then he's worried when he notices that it's you, with puffy eyes and a slightly runny nose.
For a moment, he stood there, too stunned to articulate a proper question. You don't give him the time to properly organize his thoughts, anyways, as you take timid steps towards him, before wrapping your arms around his waist. Your cheek rests against his chest, right above his heart, and you're crying. Hyunjin can tell from the slight tremors coursing through your body; the very one he's hugging right now, tightly, securely, until you're pressed to him, like two pages of the same book.
His large hands are rubbing soothing circles on your back, and a myriad of questions swirls in his mind. But they can wait, until you stop crying- the one sight that can bleed his heart dry.
"You- you said we'd talk later," you say through hiccups, as Hyunjin's hand moves to the back of your head, gently smoothing down your hair.
"I did," he hums, slightly rocking you from left to right.
"Then why didn't you? You just... stayed silent. For two weeks."
"Twelve days."
"Hyune," you whine and he giggles slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto your temple.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were waiting for me."
"Of course, I was," you lean back, the sides of his black shirt scrunched up in your hands. "I was tipsy but I... I remember."
"What do you remember?" he asks, as his thumb gently brushes away your trailing tears. He knows what happened that night, he replayed those seven minutes in his head so much that he could recite them by heart. Every breath you took, every shaky exhale you let out. He remembers it all too well.
"What you said to me."
His eyes soften at the quiver in your tone. "Why are you crying then, hm?"
"Because you didn't talk to me and I thought you didn't mean it. And I- I can't handle anyone else lying to me. Especially you."
Hyunjin shakes his head, as the strings of his heart dance to the erratic rhythm of his pulse.
"I could never lie to you. Not when it comes to this," he says with the utmost sincerity he can muster. He pauses, a gentle smile etched on his lips. "I have tea."
"Tea sounds good," you respond quietly.
"Come in, then."
He let goes of you, but you remain close, your shadows merging together on the wooden floor. Hyunjin smiles softly at the sight- he too wishes he could become one with you.
His hands are shaking slightly as he brings the water to a boil. You're wandering around, admiring the cozy interior, and the questions in Hyunjin's head can't seem to stop. What does this mean? he wants to ask. Do you want me like I want you? But he bites his tongue. Not until you've fully calmed down.
One minute.
"Here," he says, handing you a steaming cup of Jasmine tea. He leans his head against the wooden wall, as the steam fogs up his glasses.
"Thank you," you smile, settling into the seat opposite of him. "I like your ponytail."
"Oh," his hands reach up instinctively to his hair, tugging slightly at the ends of it. "It kept getting in my eyes so I tied it up."
"It suits you," you smile softly, and Hyunjin finds that the galaxy's stars are all shimmering in your eyes. He imagines the milky way weeping for the loss of its twinkling lights; but they look prettier in you, he thinks.
"How did you know I was here?" he asks, bringing the sweet drink to his mouth.
"Changbin told me," you reply.
Hyunjin nods, his eyes holding yours over the rim of his cup. He's nervous, a shaky mess from within, and he's unfolding right in front of you.
Two minutes.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
His question seems to take you off guard. Your eyes slightly widen, before softening around the edges.
"It seems too unrealistic. But I'd like to think it exists. And you?"
"Despite being a hopeless romantic..." Your chuckle interrupts his words, and he finds that the sound of your laugh is much warmer than the drink in his hand. "I never believed in it. Because love is much deeper than a superficial level. It could be infatuation or a crush. But not love," he pauses, idly circling the rim of his cup with his finger. "But then I realized I was wrong."
His eyes captivate yours as he leans back, his sole attention on you. "They don't call it love at the first look, but rather love at first sight... You know, the first time you truly see someone. And I saw you."
Your breath hitches in your throat.
Three minutes.
"I saw you. I see you. how kind, gentle, and full of life you are. How you turn the most mundane sceneries into extraordinary ones, because your eyes are filled with colors we cannot see. But I saw them through you."
He smiles softly, his hand reaching out to the middle of the table, right where yours rested. His thumb gently grazes your palm, as he starts to speak again.
"It hurt me to see you with someone else. But he made you smile, at least at first. And I love your smile, so I was happy for you despite it. Because you deserve joy in your life, even if I'm not the one behind it. But then he hurt you," he pauses, his eyes tightly shut as if it physically pained him to utter these words. "And it hurts me to see you in pain. Because you deserve a love as gentle as you."
Four minutes.
"Hyune..." you trail off, and he shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face.
"You don't have to say anything. You're confused and still hurt but I just needed you to know that."
"Know what?" you ask breathlessly, your hand now on top of his. You're hanging desperately onto his every word, you needed to hear it.
"That I love you."
Your fingers intertwine with his, and Hyunjin believes he has never truly breathed before this moment.
"I want to love you too, I do," you're quick to say. "You make me feel safe like I could hand you my heart and you wouldn't hurt it. But you also make me feel alive and I regret not seeing you first. Not when my love was still whole and not bruised."
"So you could love me?" he asks, a beaming smile brightening his face.
"I came crying to you because I thought you left me, and I couldn't bear it. You have your answer," you giggle sheepishly.
Five minutes.
"And you want to love me?"
"I do. I want to see you and notice a new detail about you every day. But I'm so scared, Hyunjin."
"It's okay to be scared. I don't want to rush you. I can wait."
"What if you get bored? Or if someone else catches your eye. I can't ask that of you."
Hyunjin squeezes your hand and the thoughts in your head go silent.
"I've waited for months for you. If it's you I get at the end then I can wait for an eternity."
"So you'll do it?" you smile incredulously. "You'll wait by my side?"
"Mm. I will."
Six minutes.
You're both quiet for a while, and he's too lost in you to count down the seconds. But then you clear your throat.
"Can we start waiting tomorrow?" you suddenly ask, walking up to him.
"What do you mean?" Hyunjin questions, the butterflies in him fluttering so intensely he's close to flying away.
"We're both here now," you whisper, as you sit beside him, his thigh brushing against yours. He licks his lips nervously.
"Can I try something?" you ask again, but this time you aren't drunk. You are less heartbroken and more sure of your feelings for him. You want this.
"I'm yours."
Your fingers reach up to cup his face, thumb grazing his cheeks gently. His hands hold your waist, beckoning you closer.
"I see you," you whisper, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry it took me so long to see you."
"Love at first sight," he responds breathlessly as your lips graze his, and his heart threatens to burst out of his chest- they'll find your name carved in his veins.
"I believe in it now, Hyune," you grin, before crashing your lips onto his.
Seven minutes.
There are a lot of things Hyunjin wished he could say to you. Sappy things, like how he believes you invented colors, that it drips down from your fingertips grazing his skin- explaining the red and yellow dots dancing before his closed eyes.
How everything seems to be heightened with you- the taste of the Jasmine tea imprinted on your lips, or the breaths escaping his body, eager to be released and to finally mingle with yours.
Or that he wishes that you were wearing your red lipstick so that your mark on him would last longer. A physical token of what you do to his heart.
But there was also much simpler words he wanted to say, ones that he managed to whisper in between tender kisses- "thank you for seeing me."
One year.
Your arms encircle Hyunjin's broad back, as you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade. "You know it's criminal for you to look this good in a simple white tee," you sigh wistfully, Hyunjin's perfume enveloping you both in an intimate cocoon.
"Good thing I'm yours then," he chuckles and you beam in reply, although he can't see you. Hyunjin is yours- he waited just like he promised he would. And now you're back in his cabin, where it all began, and he's making you Jasmine tea.
"And I am yours," you plant a kiss on his back and he turns around, a wide smile on his face.
There is still a sense of relief you find sometimes in Hyunjin's features when you tell him that you love him. As if he can't still quite believe it, even after a year of dating. It is the look traced on his face right now- a slight awe as he looks down at you.
"You said yes to me," he says so faintly, as if speaking to no one but himself, and you nod, placing a gentle kiss on his wrist.
"I'll always say yes to you."
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celestialwhoree · 1 month
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here’s another fluff ask 🫣🤭 i’m a sucker for fluff. anyway, older bf! price (20s reader and 30s price) where it’s late at night and he rolls over and reader is still on their phone and they just snatch it saying it’s “bedtime”. tbh that’s the only way that’ll get me to go to sleep
Katz?!!?!?!?!? I'd very politely like to eat your brain please and thanks💕
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The bright screen of your phone somehow manages to illuminate the whole of you and John's shared space as you absently scroll through another video. John, on the other hand, has you settled against his side, one hand combing through your hair whilst the other hold up his latest read. The duality isn't lost on you, nor him.
"What's got you giggling, hm?" He croons, his gravelly, tired voice making you blush, even after having dated for coming up two years. "Cat." You rumble back absently, turning the screen of your phone his way to show John the video you'd been so entertained by - literally just a cat eating a treat. John nods slowly, trying not to visibly wince at the bright light assaulting his eyes. He's seen explosions with less lumens. "Mm. Very cute." It's impossible for him not to notice the way your eyes droop, occasionally closing for a few seconds before you seem to snap yourself awake again. "I think it's time we get some sleep, hm?" And with a tactical move John's come to use many times - shifting his position to drop a kiss to your forehead, whilst simultaneously grabbing your phone - the screen has gone dark and you're suddenly reminded of how tired you are.
The minute your head hits the pillow, you're a goner. "Better?" John murmurs, scooping you up to rest your head on his chest so that his other arm can wrap protectively around your back. There's some instincts he just can't kick, and there's some that he doesn't want to - namely protecting you, even in the safety of your own home. You give a hum of confirmation as you snuggle up against the soft muscle of his chest, breathing in the scent of musky cologne and washing powder. It's always comical how quickly you manage to drop off the minute he takes your phone away, your breathing growing slow and heavy as your eyes fall closed. As always - not that you need to know - the minute he's sure you're asleep, he's grabbing his book back up from the nightstand and delving back in from where he left off.
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I 💕 u Katz my lovely - sorry I didn't get round to this sooner! 💖
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parker-likes-tea · 1 year
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theres this thing i encounter a lot as a textile artist, where I'll be giving a gift/showing my latest project and people immediately decide that they will never make something like that. that maybe i figured it out but there's a limited # of people who can learn how to crochet and they just didn't make the cut. and it's kinda pissing me off. a lot of these trades are starting to fade away (death of older artists, industrialization, etc etc) and it upsets me that some people are willing to let their opportunity to make things they want to make go just because they don't know how yet. i taught myself embroidery from youtube and Pinterest. i taught myself how to sew and draft patterns and tailor. i taught myself how to follow crochet tutorials on youtube and eventually how to read the books. I'm not some blessed prophet of the gods sent with natural skills to create. (hell I'd even say im a beginner at most of the things i do, but we're getting there) and trust me there are PILES of scrap fabric and projects from when i didn't quite know what i was doing and just. fucking tried anyways. moral is. if you want to make something i swear to god you can figure it out. youtube is your best friend. books. google. people around you, people you know. just don't give up before you've even started
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voidpetrova · 7 months
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best friend's brother — jeremy gilbert x reader
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a/n: this is a requested fic, but i lost the inbox that was sent to me :( so here's a big shoutout to the sweetheart that requested a smutty BFB!jeremy fic, bless their heart <3
☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genre: clichés, mutual pining, jealousy, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size kink, soft sex, slight degradation — smut
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
synopsis: your best friend's brother is the one for you, punk rock drummer and he's 6'2
✧.*
girlhood thrived in its purest form in the quiet, cozy confines of elena gilbert's room. the two of you were ensconced in an atmosphere of comfort, sporting matching pajamas—tank tops and shorts—a testament to the close bond you shared. you'd spent countless nights like this, painting your nails vibrant shades of red and talking about everything and nothing at all, all while the dulcet tones of green day provided the perfect backdrop.
tonight was no exception, and the room was bathed in a soft, warm glow from the fairy lights strung across the walls. elena's laughter filled the air as you swapped stories, occasionally sipping from your martini glasses. ot was a time when worries melted away, and you cherished these moments of simplicity.
just as you were discussing the latest school gossip, the door creaked open, and jeremy gilbert slipped inside. he claimed he was looking for a book, but it was no secret that he often used any excuse to check you out. elena, always the protective older sister, shot him a playful glare. you and jeremy had been seeing each other rather discreetly, but had yet to put a label on whatever it was you were doing. you did your best to hide it from elena, due to the unwanted presence of awkward tension and tense family game nights that were sure to follow.
“jeremy, seriously? can't you see we're having a girls' night?” elena chided, but there was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. he pretended innocence, his lips curling into a half-smile. “sorry, just passing through. carry on, ladies.”
as he lingered for a moment, elena decided it was the perfect time to drop a little bombshell into your conversation. “oh, by the way, tyler lockwood has been asking about you.” jeremy's scoff was almost immediate, and he couldn't resist adding a snarky comment. “tyler lockwood, really? what's he after now?”
elena raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “jeremy, are you jealous?” she teased. he blushed slightly, but vehemently denied it. “of course not. i just think he's not the right guy for (y/n).”
with a sly grin, elena decided to stir the pot further. “well, (y/n), maybe you should give ty a chance. what do you say?” jeremy excused himself from the room, muttering something about needing to find that book. but before he left, his eyes locked onto you, his jealousy thinly veiled behind a casual facade.
after elena drifted off to sleep during a particularly dramatic scene in twilight, you felt the way your phone buzzed softly. it was a message from jeremy, and the anticipation of sneaking away to his room sent a thrill through you. you tiptoed out of elena's room, careful not to wake her, and made your way to jeremy's. as you entered his room, he greeted you with a sly smile. “so, tyler lockwood, huh? you really considering going out with him?”
you couldn't help but chuckle at his obvious jealousy. “oh, come on, jer. you're not fooling anyone. you're totally jealous.” jeremy feigned innocence once more, but his eyes betrayed him. “me? jealous? please.”
you moved closer, enjoying this playful banter. “i think you're just worried that tyler might steal me away.” he rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. “as if anyone could.”
you laughed as you playfully poked his chest. “well, maybe you should be more convincing next time.”
jeremy's expression softened, and he pulled you closer. “you know i don't want anyone else. i just can't stand the thought of you with someone like tyler.” you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “don't worry, jeremy. you're the only one i want.”
your words were convincing—convincing enough for him to finally press his lips against yours, the hours of built-up tension finally exploding. one of his hands dropped to cup your cheek, a subtle way to pull you in closer, your lips melting into one another with a sweet tenderness, while his other freely trailed down your collarbone, tracing the delicate structure of your body, caressing your neck and throat before sweetly dropping down to the valley of your breasts. for a split second, he felt his eyes open. he couldn't control himself, he just had to look at you, admiring the way your tits were peeking from your tank top—the one that was just a bit too tight and a bit too revealing.
a wave of possessiveness crashed over him, even when he shut his eyes once more. he couldn't bear to imagine anybody, let alone tyler lockwood, getting their hands on someone as perfect as you. he couldn't imagine someone admiring you the way he did—not your face, your mannerisms, let alone the way your tits were out for him, or how your ass was arched back, peeking through the incredibly short shorts. it made him furious, and he let you know it.
“you're so fucking perfect,” he murmured as he pulled away from the kiss, the taste of vodka and mint lingering on his tongue as he dropped down to your neck, attacking the sensitive skin with his lips as teeth as he grabbed your hair, pulling you further into his touch. “won't let anyone else have you.” his words made you shiver, practically. your own hands found themselves tangling into the threads of his silky, dark hair as you moaned his name.
he loved every second of it. he knew it the second he saw you, and all he could do was savor you. his lips left brutal marks on your neck, providing you with an excellent problem to deal with before elena woke up. they travelled down to the valley of your breasts, nipping at your tits through the thin material of your top. all the material did was piss him off, arousing growls at the unnecessary barrier of clothing. he practically tore it off, leaving you in nothing but the incredibly slutty shorts. “jer,” you whined, glossy eyes locking with his as he continued to toy with your breasts, fingertips twirling your nipples as he licked at the fat. “elena's gonna kill me.”
he didn't pay much attention to the future consequences of your doing. “it's all good, baby,” he muttered quietly, the rough surface of his tongue drawing circles into your nipple, before sliding down your stomach gracefully. he only stopped to discard his own clothing. “just another reason to get you into my clothes, so what?”
you didn't even have time to laugh, not while he was in front of you, body seeming to have been sculpted by greek gods. you admired his toned muscles, the way his biceps were bigger than your head, and the way his stomach carried muscles that hinted at hard work—blood, sweat, and tears put into transforming his frame. “almost like you're afraid to touch me.” he taunted, but he knew you weren't. not with the ways your hands subconsciously caressed his frame, small hands wrapping around his biceps and tracing his abs. he was so much bigger than you, and he absolutely loved it.
you knew it the minute he started fucking you—he was truly twice your size. with his throbbing, long cock splitting your tiny, tight pussy open, you knew it. he knew the moans that left your mouth, however a turn-on, were also a potential danger, threatening to awaken elena from her peaceful slumber. his hand covered your mouth, your eyes shutting tight at the way he fucked you, nice and hard. you bit down on his hand, similarly to how your pussy clenched his pulsating dick, and he felt as if he were about to lose it.
“so fucking tight,” he attempted to silence his own moans, speaking through pants and gasps as his gaze dropped to your swollen cunt, greedy and desperate as he watched the way it swallowed him whole. it made him want to ruin you in the best way possible. “who's my greedy little girl, huh?” you whined at the pressure, at the way his words sent slick down his shaft, and he damn well noticed it. his free hand dropped to your lower stomach, pressing against it as he fucked himself deeper into your slippery cunt, the juices threatening to slip his dick out of you completely. he watched the way he could practically feel himself in your stomach, your tight little pussy barely taking what he had to give to you. it encouraged him to fuck you as he leaned back, giving you all the more of his cock.
your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the sensation, his balls the only part of him that had yet to slip into you. “too much, jer,” you whined against his palm, but it was too much for him, too. he knew he was close, watching the way your tits bounced with every forceful thrust of his, the way yours thighs shook under his touch, and the way your pussy fluttered, barely allowing him to pull out. he knew he was done for.
in fact, there was no way he was pulling out, but the two of you were too entranced to care about it. his thrusts grew more sloppy and desperate, hips pounding into your pelvis as he chased his own orgasm. his fingers finally left your mouth, your moans under nobody's control but your own as he rubbed at your clit gently, thumbing the wet and sensitive bundle of nerves as he continued to pound into you. you were close, and he knew it.
it was the first time you had came at the same time. you felt the way hot, thick spurts of cum shot into your wet, sweet cunt, and at the same time, your own orgasm washed over you, juices flooding out of you, coating his angry cock as moans left your mouths, the ability to control yourselves long gone. he pressed his forehead onto yours, placing sloppy kisses onto your lips as his cum pooled inside you, unable to slip out of you as his dick softened from inside your pussy. there was truly no way for you to feel empty with jeremy by your side.
“does this mean you won't go out with tyler?” his hands pushed away your loose strands of hair, ones that had been tainted with sweat and saliva. you smiled, small fingers wrapping around his wrists as you placed a sweet kiss to his palm.
“no, actually, my best friend's brother is the one for me.”
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scuderiasundays · 7 months
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better together
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summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌
words: 1,045
a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼
Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.
It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.
Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.
Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.
The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.
Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.
“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.
As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.
He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.
His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.
As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 
“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.
“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.
“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.
He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?
You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.
"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 
The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.
It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 
His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.
New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.
He replied right away.
I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?
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draconic-desire · 1 month
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Ad Experimentum
Yandere Dr. Ratio x Reader
Veritas catches you reading one of your dirty books.
Warnings: Implied kidnapping and forced imprisonment, NSFW scenes being read aloud, Dr. Ratio being a dick as always
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Within the confines of Veritas’s home, you feel like a mouse in a maze, reduced to a caged animal, always under scrutiny and experimentation.
Escape is impossible. Dr. Ratio has ensured that you’re never out of his reach, even though he acts as if you are the burden and he didn’t kidnap you and imprison you in his home. Sometimes you wonder why he even keeps you; surely he has better things to do than to quip at your inadequacy or lack of genius. But alas, the pretentious prick seems keen on pushing every one of your buttons to see how you tick. You might even call it intimacy if he wasn’t so clinical and judgmental about it all.
Because physical escape is impossible, you’ve turned to escaping within the confines of your own mind.
Books provided the perfect retreat. You’ve since abandoned any non-fiction to focus on fantasy, to worlds that effortlessly whisk you away. Novels that depict true, romantic love, not the twisted ownership you’ve grown used to. Like you’re some pet to be controlled and prodded at, like Pavlov’s dog, waiting and drooling for its master’s hand at the ring of a bell.
So, in your hopes to feel something real, you’ve started to delve into stories that are a bit…spicier.
With the latest read in your hand, your eyes skim hungrily over the pages as the tension between the protagonists builds. The lovers begin to undress each other, the one spreading his partner’s pussy as she grinds into his hand—
Veritas effortlessly plucks the book from your hands, earning a cry of protest. You try to snatch it back, but, with the help of his towering height, he dangles it just out of reach. “What in the heavens is this?”
The way he holds the book between his thumb and pointer finger, as if merely touching it would taint his self-proclaimed perfect set of knowledge, was almost comedic. You would laugh if he wasn’t such a condescending asshole.
Instead, you scowl. “Give it back.”
He merely hums and turns the novel in his hands, inspecting the cover. Licking his thumb, he flips to your bookmarked page and begins reading aloud. “My hand caressed her core as I speared her with two, thick fingers. She moaned and arched into my palm in response, causing my cock to twitch in anticipation. God, I wanted to taste her arousal. Her pussy was perfect, so wet and tight and ready for me to claim, to fuck.”
Embarrassment rages across your cheeks like a burn. You fling yourself at him, pounding your fists against his chest when he lifts the book out of your reach easily. “Stop, just stop.”
Amused, Dr. Ratio continues to narrate the scene in painstaking detail. “I lowered my head, letting my tongue swirl around her clit and rendering her voice to nothing but pitiful mewls. She tasted like heaven, like my own personal feast. I buried my tongue in her, then, and held her hips as she bucked into my mouth, begging for release—”
“I will do anything,” you beg, face in your palms, “just please stop.”
Finally, mercifully, Veritas closes the book and lowers it down enough for you to snatch it back. You cradle it against your chest, heart pounding and palms sweaty with a chaotic blend of shame, anger, and relief that it was over.
“This is what you indulge in while I’m working? Though you are hardly an intellectual exception, I believed you to be above this brain-rotting nonsense, (Y/n).”
In spite of your embarrassment, you boldly meet his golden eyes. “And what do you care? I enjoy it, and it’s not meant for you. Go stick your nose in a dictionary for all I care.”
“At least I’d be learning something,” he sneers in return, looking down his nose at you. He sniffs, tilting his chin up. “What do those books have that I can’t offer you?”
You still, observing his features. Now that the fun of teasing you has worn off, his eyes flare with loathing. With a jolt, you realize it is not aimed at you but at…the book?
Wordlessly, you glance between Dr. Ratio and your novel. Then, a stilted laugh escapes your lips. “Wait.. Are you seriously jealous of a book?”
“Don’t be preposterous,” he scoffs, though you notice his white-knuckled grip against the back of the armchair you were previously lounging in. “I would never stoop so low as to associate myself with that plebeian filth. I simply wanted to ascertain your reaction to it being read aloud.”
You resist the desperate urge to roll your eyes. “Fine, then. Please leave me to my uneducated filth.” You spin around, intent on finding a new place to finish your reading.
“Not so fast.” Veritas is on you quicker than a cobra, large hands gripping both your shoulders. “Perhaps all is not lost. We may yet transform this circumstance into an educational opportunity for you.”
A chill runs down your spine at the heavy touch, and a sudden sense of foreboding warns you to run. You’re all too aware you’re the mouse being fed to the snake in this moment.
Veritas spins you to face him, eyes slowly trailing down your form, as if taking you in with a new perspective. “I believe an experiment is due.”
You go rigid. “I’m sorry?”
“If you’re so intent on reading about all those fantasies in your books, let’s go ahead and put them to the test, shall we?”
At his clear implication, you yelp and make a run for it. In that moment Veritas strikes, fisting your hair with one hand and cupping your chin with the other as he presses your body flush against his own. You can already feel his hard desire digging into your back.
“Here’s my hypothesis,” he purrs in your ear. “I predict that by the end of tonight, you too will be begging for my cum, whether you want to or not.”
His theory, as always, was proven to be correct.
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