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nocturn-warrior · 5 months

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Like poppies with seed

Feyd Rautha x reader

Rating: smut, smut, smuuuuttt

Warnings: pregnancy sex, lactation kink, detailed descriptions of body parts, Feyd calling reader his breeding cow, Feyd being extra horny for reader's body. Heavy, heavyyy pregnancy kink.

Summary: Feyd is more than proud in show you off while carrying his child.

@austinbutlerslovers @valeskafics

In the last months of your pregnancy, you are sore. Your ankles are hurt, your back aches, subtle waves of sleep hit you and all you want to do is snuggle in your bed, waiting for Feyd to come back from his duties.

He doesn't allow you to roam around the palace without his company. It sounded frustrating but necessary. You called atention everywhere you go and Feyd couldn't bear anybody looking at you for so much time.

Specially his uncle; he knew how the baron's mind was, and radiant as you looked, he wouldn't hesitate in use you for his own pleasures. The very thought enraged Feyd deeply. You were his and his alone.

That was the reason he made sure to keep you by his side: to claim you as his. To show every single person in Giede Prime who bred you so nicely, and who you belonged to. He had a cocky grin in his face everytime you went out in public.

Night has come and it is almost dinner time. After taking a warm bath, you admire your form in front of the mirror that covers half of the wall.

Caressing your bump, you think about Feyd and how he enjoys kissing your belly, knowing his child is developting in there. It's a repent change in his behavior, but Feyd became sweeter with you.

Sweeter like the male of a feline species protecting his female from others that could possibly take her, but it was still sweeter than the Feyd you knew, that would barely show his emotions unless they were adrenaline in a sword fight or that devilish grin when he urged for sex.

Laid on your bed was the dress he chose for that night. A long and extremely form fitting grey dress with long sleeves. For a while you doubted that piece of cloth would fit your pregnant body, but the fabric stretched perfectly to your size and was comfortable as well.

It puts in evidence your swollen breasts that doubled, maybe tripled in size; your huge bump; your luscious hips; your butt and your pussy. This last one made you a little bit embarassed. Sometimes it seems like Feyd in fact likes when people stare at you, as if he wanted to show you like a trophy.

After combing your hair, you wait for the knocking on the door indicating you should leave your chambers and meet Feyd. Usually he is busy with his duties until dinner, so a female servant leads you to one of the enormous hallways connected to the dinning room.

Today it wasn't different. When you heard the knocking, you opened the wide doors and the pale bald lady was bowing at you in reverence before guiding you.

You walk with a certain dificulty through those dark corridors, almost panting. The servant asks if you are feeling alright and you smile in ressurance, arching your back.

In the end of the hallway the lights from the dinning room can be seen and project a familiar shadow standing still. Feyd waits for you with his arms behind his back, he is eager to see you in the dress he ordered for a tailor to produce.

Even from a far, the sight of you makes his cock tingle. You walk slowly, hips swaying from side to side. Heavy swollen breasts are full of milk and bouncing as you walk. And under your round belly, the outline of your pussy seems to send aphrodisiac energies towards Feyd. The lips are perfectly marked and urging to welcome Feyd's penis.

He can't contain an evident erection as you approach him, smiling sweetly with your doe eyes, hands folded in front of your body. His piercering gaze directs to the servant who understands he'll take care of your from that point.

The na-baron's expression changes into a smile, looking down at you. He settles his hand behind your back and slips it down to your butt, giving it a good squeeze and then an audible slap that echoes through the hallway. You gasp instantly, and Feyd delights at the sound biting his lips.

"You look extra hot this night. I wonder who chose this dress..."

The man comments ironically, placing back his hand behind your back and guiding you to the dinning room.

Entering, you see the Baron eat his enormous amount of food. Rabban is two chairs away from him, leaving them to Feyd and you. You can't handle sitting next to the Baron, specially when he is eating. The sounds he makes are disgusting and your guts are way more sensitive now. Feyd then pulls the chair for you in the other extremity of the large metal table. Five generals watch you enter and sit, their eyes are glued on your body.

Before accomodating himself, Feyd looks piercingly at everybody and specially Rabban, who have always been more a rival than a brother. The thought of showing you round with his child who is to be the heir of Harkonnen, putting in evidence who Baron Vladimir prefers, amuses Feyd although his uncle's aprovation means nothing.

He takes a seat by your side, he places one hand on thigh, softly kneading on it very closer to your core. You press your thighs together trying to ease the crescent wave of horniness inside your cunt. With his free hand he serves you your vegetable meal once you refuse to eat the undercooked meat the Harkonnens appreciate. You barely touch it though. In the last weeks, you've been feeling like your intestines are being compressed and the leak of apetite starts setting in.

Plus, Baron Vladimir looks at you mischievously while chewing on his food. You start to feel uncomfortable, and once Feyd finishes his meal, you poke him with your elbow indicating you are ready to go. The Baron doesn't allow a woman to speak at the dinner table.

Feyd obligues, guiding you through the hallways back to your chambers. He made sure to let you walk in front of him, so he could get a better view of your butt and hips swaying as you walked with dificulty. His cock was hard, he wanted to take you right on the hallway and sink his face into your cunt, tasting your sweet nectar. And on the other side, you could feel Feyd's gaze on you, his bird of prey-like eyes reached you like lazers and your pussy was starting to get wet.

Blasting the doors of your chambers open, you plop yourself on the bed, taking a deep sigh and making fun about your back pain. Feyd was not interested in it, his eyes were glued on your body, admiring how your full breasts were squashed against your bump like a shelf. You looked like a sort of fertility deity, that way. He wanted to attach his lips onto your nipples and drink your sweet milk while fucking you.

He takes off his boots and coat, the matress shiftin with his weight as he sits by your side.

"Stand up"

He orders.

"But Feyd, my back--"

"I said stand up. In front of me"

His tone is more serious now, and you do as he asked, standing up with dificulty and looking down at his sitting form, anxiously playing with your fingers. You knew that tone very well and horniness was taking over you.

Before asking anything else, Feyd looks at how your dress snuggles to every protuding part of your body, your braless nipples were hard, jutting agains it and he unconsciously leaves a soft moan before ordering:

"Take the dress off"

Immediatly you try to reach down towards the hem of your form-fitting dress, but the volume of the belly gets in the way, so Feyd, still in his position, leans forwards a bit to glide up the fabric until your hands could reach and you could do the work yourself.

Slowly your bare skin starts to show; your perfect pussy, your swollen belly, and your bouncing tits that jiggle deliciously when the snuggly fabric releases them. You throw the dress away, waitibg for his next commands

Feyd's cock is so erect it could rip off his trousers. The man spreads his legs a bit and pats his muscular thighs.

"Sit here"

You take a deep breath and do as Feyd said, he balances you on his thighs and rests his broad hands on both your hips. Slowly, he starts to massage the small of your back. His touch is firm yet gentle. Soft grunts leave your throat as he kneads on your skin. Feyd's eyes are glued on your face, fascinated by your relieved expressions. He feels your wetness dripping down on his trousers and wetting the fabric of it. If you are so turned on only by this, imagine when he actually fucks you?

The other hand skims from your hip up to your breasts. He tucks his hand in the space between your pregnant belly and your heavy tits, before lifting one them up and making it bounce on his hand. The sensitiveness of your sore breasts makes your nipples painfully hard to the point a little drop of milk starts to form and drips on your skin, gliding down the curve of your belly.

"Look at those breasts... so plump and full. I barely touched them and they are already leaking."

Feyd squeezes one of the breasts firmly, making you gasp in surprise and pleasure. It squirts milk right on his muscular chest, and the sight of the white liquid graciously running down like a tear amuses the man.

He can't contain the urge to suck your aureola full on his mouth. His plump lips quickly attach to your nipples, making your core ache in heat. Feyd moans as he chuggs on your milk voraciously, and you unconsciously start to rut against his thigh in order to ease the state of overstimulation you've been put on by your husband.

You rest your arms on both his shoulders as he delights on the fluid. One of his hands glides down to cup the underside of your belly, massaging it. With the sensitiveness of your skin, his touch on the area makes you rut even more thrustfully against his muscular thigh as his feet are firm on the ground so you wouldn't lose balance.

You arche your back as you get off on his lap, the fabric of his trousers are completly soaked by your cum now. Feyd releases your breast with a loud pop and smirks mischievously at you, remainings of your white milk can be see in the creases of his black teeth.

"Look at the mess you've made on my lap. You are desperated, aren't you? You are desperated for my cock to penetrate this thigh pussy of yours. When this one is out, i will breed you over and over again."

He rasps, softly poking your swollen belly before he guides you to the center of the bed, all on fours. You feel heavy, your bump touches the sheets and your tits hang slightly.

Your husband zips down his trousers and underwear, revealing his huge pink cock which is so hard that reaches his bellybutton. Feyd moans, you feel the matress shifting with his weight as he kneals down, hands placed on your hips. He gives your ass a big slap and watches you squirm in overstimulation.

"Who is my breeding cow?"

He asks you, hand playing with the lips of your pussy.

"I am"

You babble, eyes shut and core aching for his cock. He smirks and slaps your butt again.

"Say it again. Tell me what you are. Tell me who got you pregnant"

His words make you moan before answering and Feyd waits with his hand ready to smack you again.

"I-i am your breeding cow. Feyd Rautha got me pregnant, and i belong to him. And i am ready to be bred as many times as he wants"

"Nice..."

Says Feyd before comming closer and slowly inserting his cock into your pussy, leaving you completly desmantled. You moan loudly with the thrust of his hips, breasts sagging and bumping against each other with his jostling movements.

The position is not one of the bests due to your body pulling you down, but you are too overstimulated and pleasured to move or ask Feyd for another position.

Though extremely horny for your body, Feyd doesn't want to hurt or make you uncomfortable while with child, so he lifts up your belly once you start to complain about the heft. Having the hands of your husband over your bump is an enormous turn on, and you are starting to cum again.

The thrusts get more and more fast, grunts of pleasure leave Feyd's mouth as your cunt makes loud squishy sounds with the in and out of his cock.

"I am comming..."

He lulls his head back, thrustring his large cock into your tight hole, both your faces are hot, sweating with the waves of pleasure that prologues the orgasm.

Soon, you feel Feyd's warm sees filling up your cunt and he growls loudly, a large amount of sperm oozes from your hole mixed with your own fluids, falling into the bed.

Panting, Feyd helps you to get out from your position, laying your back on the plush pillows. Your legs are spread, head fallen to the side as the frantic rise and fall of your lungs are visible.

Feyd stands up with his legs shaky and grabs a grey towel and rubs it on your core, wiping off the excess of sperm. He throws the towel away before covering you with the blanket and laying by your side, his broad hand rests on your belly as you lean closer to him, resting your head on his muscular arm.

With a shaky voice, you playfully say:

"Thank you for breeding me"

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x oc #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha imagine #cw lactation #cw pregnancy #cw breeding #cw body mentions

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vnards · 4 months

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NSFW MAFIA!AU SNIPPET

Ghost pushes Johnny against the wall, all teeth. “You never know how to listen.” Ghost made his way down the scot’s neck, biting a bit more than necessary.

It didn’t matter. Johnny loved it.

“Aye did what aye did.” One of ghost’s gloved hands come up and cover Johnny’s throat.

“Shut up,”

A quick flash of a hand strikes against Johnny’s face. “Only words I want to be hearing from you is ‘yes’ and ‘sir’, are we clear?” Johnny hesitated with a smirk, but Ghost wasn’t having it. Another slap to his other cheek, “I said are we clear?” He rumbled.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Ghost didn’t let up on the grip in his hair, “Now, Get on your knees and suck my dick.” He shoved Soap to his knees.

The Scot was still muttering curses as he begrudgedly started to undo his pants. Ghost was pissed, annoyed that a situation like that could even happen with him around. He needed to let a load off before he can even address having you down the hallway.

Another pair of hands wrap around Ghost's torso, the silky voice like a devil on his shoulder, “Do you need any help punishing Johnny boy?” Kyle teased.

Gears began to turn in Ghost's head. Johnny reveals his member as his pants slide down his hips. He has always been a considerable size, but there were never any complaints about it.

“I think Johnny does need to be taught to listen. You hear that, boy? Kyle is gonna help me tonight.” He punctuates his sentence by gripping his mohawk tighter.

Johnny pointedly ignores him as he gives him a few strokes before putting him in his mouth. Regardless how angry Soap was, he could not deny how much he loved Simon's cock in his mouth. He worked his way up and down his shaft, eager to take him all the way down his throat as an apology.

Ghost groans in pleasure as Kyle’s wandering hands continue downwards. He watches Kyle slide down to his knees next to Johnny who's eyes were already tearing up. The portrait the both of them make; on their knees, looking up at Ghost as the absolute unit that he is. Johnny's anger melts away as he sinks on his cock.

Adjusting his grip once more, Ghost begins to move his hips, shoving his dick further down his throat. “Take it.” He grits.

And Johnny's such a good boy.

Ghost uses his leverage against Johnny, using his throat roughly. Kyle's voice is teasing, almost sinister. “Johnny boy is just a little confused on who's in charge.”

Ghost hums in agreement, He leans his hand out, rubbing Kyle's cheek, “Why don't you help him out, Kyle?”

Kyle smiles, “Gladly.” He goes for his heavy balls, licking between them before sucking one into his mouth. Ghost's mood was increasingly getting better.

He throws his head back in pleasure, getting lost in the sensation of being serviced. Fantasies of you come forward, something that's been happening since he first met you. One your knees with the boys. He imagined your hand would be soft and gentle. Did you even know how to please a man? Ghost will teach you, he promised.

As the boys make quick work of his cock, all shiny with spit and standing to attention, Ghost starts getting impatient. Luckily, Kyle, the good boy he is, was already fingering his hole for Ghost to use. Another groan came from the boogeyman, “Such a good boy, Kyle. Knowing you're about to get fucked.” He thrusts in Johnny's throat particularly deep as he punctuates his sentence.

Johnny looked up at him with those baby blue eyes, silently pleading with him. “No,” Ghost states simply, “Bad boys don't get to get fucked.” He takes him off his cock, keeping him from diving back on. Johnny eventually listens.

Kyle undresses, always a tease as his curves always caught the eye of every passerby. His bubble butt so firm and supple. Ghost doesn't admit it often, but he loves Kyle's ass. He gives himself a few strokes as Kyle continues his show.

Still on his knees, Johnny kept trying to gain Ghost's attention. Ghost catches Soap's eye and he scolds him, “You could've gotten more than her hurt, Johnny.” Johnny's puppy dog eyes were not going to work today, “You can't be getting sloppy out there like you did tonight.”

Getting too close to being vulnerable, Ghost closes off, going back behind the mask he uses to stay seperated. Johnny knew there’d be no talking him out of this.

“Bend over, Kyle.” He does as he’s told, just like always. Ghost come up behind him and lines himself against his hole. He slips himself in and they both groan at the sensation.

Kyle never complained about his size, convincing Ghost he liked the burning stretch. Ghost pushed until their hips connected. Kyle starts to pant, “God, Simon, I-"

Ghost pulls back just to shove himself forward again, pressing Kyle's face into the wall. “Shut up.” Ghost was very demanding tonight, “Only thing I want to hear from you is permission to cum.”

Ghost starts up a brutal pace, focusing only on his pleasure after the shit night they had. Kyle bounces between the wall and a hard place, biting his lip to keep some of the noises down. You were only on the other side of the house after all. Ghost didn't care. His grunts and growls were only low enough for the party to hear him. Johnny was still on his knees, watching Kyle get fucked the way he loves being fucked.

His thrusts became heavier as he spoke, “God damn stubborn assholes you lot are.” The boogeyman found his grip on Kyle's hips and was able to fuck deeper into him. Kyle's pitch changed, an edge of a whine starting.

“That's it, boy, make those pretty noises for me.” The bulked man leaned his head back to bask in taking pleasure, bottoming out with heavy strokes as his ball draw closer and closer up.

“G-Ghost, sir…may I cum?”

Ghost decided to be mean, “No.” He whimpered. “Not until I do.”

That's when Ghost felt an extra pair of hands cupping his balls as they swung against Kyle's ass. Ghost grunted in surprise, the sensation doing nothing but driving his hips harder.

“I-I can't. I-" Kyle blubbered.

“Hold,” He commanded. He was close. He continued to pound away at Kyle's hole when he suddenly feels a finger slip into his own hole. “A-Ah!” It catches him by surprise, drawing his balls up and unloading into the smaller man.

Finally, Kyle was able to cum and he shivered and shuddered against Ghost's arms, his own cock spewing cum. Kyle's head lolled as he basked in the pleasure of his orgasm.

Spurting out a few more times, Ghost moves his hips absently, trying to cum as deep as he can. It satiates a deeper feeling in him, to mark them all. He wishes you'd let him mark you.

It took a few more moments for his breath to even, but he notices the very well known noise of Johnny stroking his cock. Ghost looks and sees the art Johnny makes.

He situated himself under Kyle, leaning back against the wall with Kyle's cum covering his bare chest and a few strings on his chin. Johnny is too blissed in pleasure to feel bad for stroking his needy cock, his pulsing need hot and ready.

Johnny makes eye contact with Ghost and that seems to be the thing that tips him over, his cock pulsing out strings of cum that land in tandem with Kyle's.

Johnny's orgasms are always a wonder to watch, his mouth agape and forehead creased. He was doing a great job keeping eye contact until they started rolling, the ends of his orgasm striking him with pleasure. The dazed glint afterward was always Ghost's favorite.

He allows a few more moments, feeling a bit winded himself, “You both need showers.” A chorus of moans started, “You're not going to see her covered in cum, Johnny.”

“But what if she likes it?” Ghost could hear his smirk.

“Johnny.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kyle helps Johnny to his feet and they give each other small kisses. Kyle takes in Johnny's tablaeu, “'s kinda hot.” He mutters.

Johnny turns over his shoulder, “told ye.”

Ghost ignored him and headed towards his own room in the safehouse. He was already pulling off his shirt as he stepped through the door. Now that he can think without his dick getting in the way, it was time to figure out what to actually do with you.

They couldn't kidnap you. Maybe. They shouldn't kidnap you.

But you couldn't go back to your every day. Not getting run up with them. As much as Ghost hates to admit it, you're a target right now and you need to protecting.

I can protect you.

It seemed to be settled in Ghost's mind. You're his pretty little doll, after all.

#mafia!141 #mafia x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #smut

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mysicklove · 1 year

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Sub! Tanjiro x Gn! Reader, cw: toy use, subspace, crying, dumbfication, tanjiro loses all coherent thoughts

A/N: this is unedited and absolutely filthy. this is really self indulgent too, so you know kinda extreme lol

"look at you, tanjiro, you're such a mess," you coo, looking at your lover who is shivering and humping the sheets for any source of stimulation. you've got him decorated with your favorite toys, and although he loves them, the feeling of them all on his body was driving him insane. his body was jolting in ways he has never felt before.

a vibrating cockring on his base paired with a small vibrator attached to the pink head of his cock. and of course his favorite toy, the vibrating butt plug, that always feels like its too big whenever you first ease it in. you couldn't tell if he was shaky due to the intense amounts of vibrations he is withstanding or from pleasure.

it was his idea to try them all at once. he wanted to show you that he can do more intense stuff and he isn't that breakable. but in this moment where he doesn't know if he wants to push back into the plug or thrust forward, looking for stimulation, he's at a loss.

but he has never felt so powerless. he is forced to succumb to the pleasures. any sort of thought or worry is leaving his brain, because in this moment all he can focus on is the vibrations. he loves it.

his legs look like they are about to give out in any minute, trembling like leafs. but still he sits pretty on his hands and knees for you, his back arched into the plug.

his head lays in your lap. he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in between your clothed legs. for the first time, he is not blushing from the fact he is basically face to face with your sex.

he isn't focused on that, instead, he craves your warmth. he needs your touch to engulf him at this minute.

and you dont hesitate to please him, running your fingers through his hair that is damp with sweat. his frantic tears stain your clothes. "Tanjiro, is it too much?"

"P-Please!" he sobs into the cloth, and you frown at the vague statement. he's clutching fiercely onto you, and his body continues to tremble, almost withering under the force of the vibrations.

you've never seen him react like this, and it makes you worried. "im going to take the plug out baby. i think we should try this another night. dont wanna push you too much."

he sits there for a second, trying to collect his thoughts, while he heaves into your lap. he gulps when at of the corner of the eye you begin reaching for it. immediately he pushes himself upward, away from your legs, with a lost look in his eyes. his cheeks are stained with tears and his eyes hazy.

your hand falls back to your side in mild shock. you didn't know he was even able to move at this moment.

but, he pushes his knees forward and he brings his arms to behind him, where lays them on the sheets beneath him to hold his figure up. you now have a full display of his body, slightly arched back, and glistening with sweat. almost as if he was presenting his body to you. you have no idea where he learned this.

he obviously does not like the idea of you taking out the plug, but is too fucked dumb to even think about it how to tell you.

drool coats the bottom of his lip, and he still hasn't stopped crying. whimpers seem to drown out the sound of the three vibrators. he looks at with the most pathetic eyes, making him even more adorable than ever in this moment. "feels g-good. can't. dont-- I can't!"

you watch his arms tremble from the added weight of his body. so, you reach forward and half drag him back into your lap, where he immediately begins to grind on your thighs and bury his head into your neck. "i won't take it out. dont worry, tan. poor baby, are you fucked dumb? can't speak anymore?"

"yes. yes. yes. yes" he slurs, and you don't know if he is responding to you, or the newfound pleasure from your thighs.

you fingers find your way to his hair, and the other hand taps the plug in his ass. he cries out from it, his face scrunching up, and you chuckle, "alright. lets make you cum. does that sound alright?"

he gurgles "please!" into your neck.

#this is alot im sorry #i have a huge thing of sorta breaking pretty boys #and tears #and toys #so you know this is just disgusting LMAOO #whatever #tanjiro smut #tanjiro x reader #sub! tanjiro #dom! reader #kny smut #smut #tanjiro x reader smut #reader insert #gn! reader #dom! reader x sub! tanjiroi #tanjiro kamado smut

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yukichosodrink · 2 months

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Could you write smth with virgin Toji and a somewhat experienced reader? I have my own headcanons on how Megumi was born but that's irrelevant lol

A/N: HEYYY ANON this is the first ever req i got 😎 and yes i got u dw. altho this was kinda challenging since i've never written ab virgin toji but yeah

C/W: Virgin Toji, experienced reader, lowkey pwp, reader is kinda cocky ab it, nipple play, kinda a powerplay?

"Hng- Ngh, doll. Slow down- fuck."

Toji's heavy breath's rang through your ears, as you pumped his cocked up and down, your hands working at a speed that felt deadly to Toji.

"Aw, virgins are so cute." You say cockily shooting him a grin as you continued rubbing his fully hard shaft. The pre cum smeared over his cock and you bent down to lick it slowly, and almost painfully as it felt to Toji. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Shut the fuck up." Toji said as you increased your pace, you got down on your knees and grabbed one of his balls, squeezing it.

Toji groaned in response, his hands finding way in your hair pulling it by the roots,"Fucking-" Before he could say, you licked up a big stripe on his cock, before slowly sucking his balls.

You put his cock inside your mouth, fucking your face on it maintaing eye contact with Toji, although he seemed to be in a daze. He wasn't maintaining eye contact rather he was looking away and kept looking back while occasionally swearing and tugging at your hair.

"Fuck- yes I'm going to-" Toji grunted, his grip getting tighter on your hair but your release with a 'pop' sound, shooting him a grin. "Why you-"

"Let's get down to the real stuff, shall we?" You said getting up your hands working on Toji's well defined pecs, his black tshirt hugging his figure tightly signalling him to take it off and he does.

You take off your shorts, revealing a wet patch on your panty to Toji and he smiles mockingly as he hooks down your panties to show your glistening cunt. His fingers spread your folds,"And you? Dripping like a virgin. Fucking pathetic." Toji says, slapping your cunt making you whine. He pulls you on top of him as you straddle his thigh. Your fingers make their way to his nipples, playing with them and pulling one of it while sucking on the other.

Toji groaned and gripped your hips tightly and lifted you up, to make you sit on his huge leaking cock, you let out a lewd moan.

"Fuck- Toji it's big-" You whine, gripping his shoulders tightly as you sink down unto his cock. Toji's hands were on your waist gripping it roughly,"Yeah? Too big? Bigger than all those cocks you took?" Toji gave you a mocking smile, letting out a small grunt.

"Wonder how your pussy is still so fucking tight." He said as he made you bounce on his cock, slapping your butt. Your tits bounced from the effect, as a creamy ring began to form on Toji's cock.

"I'm gonna- ngh- cum." Toji announced, holding you by the hips guiding your movements.

"A-ah toji! M-mm you sure you a virgin? Your cock's stretching me out so gooood!" You moaned out, sweatbeads forming on both you and Toji's forehead.

"And you sure you are experienced, doll? Because you're getting fucked like a virgin here." Toji said, increasing his pace and fucking you with more intensity,"A-ahh- Toji- 'm cumming!" You announced gripping Toji's biceps now, as your cunt squeezed his cock, he painted your walls white as you clamped down on him, releasing with him.

You collapsed on top of Toji's, breathing heavily.

"How was that, huh?" Toji said proudly, seeing your condition.

"Good. And I felt better about taking your virginity." You said, getting your cocky attitude back as you pushed yourself off of him.

#jjk smut #fushiguro toji #jjk #jujustu kaisen #smut #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji x you #anon ask #yukichosodrink #jujutsu #female reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jjk geto #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji

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octuscle · 1 year

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What the fuck?! I've just arrived for this academic conference in Amsterdam and when I went to unpack, my clothes and notes were gone! Instead my suitcase is filled with thongs and jockstraps and.. are those dildos? Who's fucking with me?

Well, to be quite precise: No, these are not only dildos. They are also butt plugs. Do you find just as disgusting? Then just put the case in the corner.

Damn, you just can't get this plug out of your head… When you fall asleep, you swear you hear a voice telling you that you should try the butt plug. Since your mother gave you a fever suppository as a child, no one has inserted anything into your ass. But somehow you know exactly what to do. You take a handful of Crisco, rub the plug in, fix it on the coffee table of your hotel room, relax your ass and slowly insert the plug. Fuck! Your cock reacts immediately. And so does your brain. What a horny combination of pleasure and pain. Yes, something like that belongs in your ass. Damn it! You pump air into the plug. Oh my God! The feeling drives you crazy. You can't get enough. And you start pumping with one hand and jerking off with the other. Until you cum a load like you have cum before. Fuck, what a mess in the hotel room. But what an orgasm!

The night is full of wild dreams. Full of wet wild dreams. You would love to go straight on with another sex toy. But you have a message on your cell phone. You should wear the latex shorts with the integrated dildo at the conference today. And after the conference you are supposed to work out with it in the gym. As if in a trance, you shower, oil yourself and put on the shorts. And over it you wear a shirt and a suit. Fuck! Your boner doesn't come to rest at all. And you get another message: "Good Boi".

The conference is really exhausting. With the dildo in your ass you can hardly concentrate. You are only thankful that you are wearing the latex shorts. You produce precum by the ounce. When you have to go to the toilet, you always use a stall. You are uncomfortable showing your ass in latex. At noon you get a message. "Sluts show their dick while pissing". Okay. So next time you stand at the urinal. You can't help it, you have to jerk off when you are done pissing. The looks you reap fluctuate between disgust, alienation and lechery.

You skip the champagne reception at the end of the congress day. Your task was to work out today. So you go straight back to the hotel. And you wonder what to wear to the training. Your suitcase still hasn't shown up. But the question is unnecessary. On your bed are shorts, tank top, socks and training shoes. The tank top has "Gym Slut" printed on it. And on your desk is a whole battery of bottles with protein drinks. Next to it is a weird metal thing… You get a new message. Every two hours you should drink a bottle of protein drinks. And wear the cock cage for training. You drink the first bottle and look at the device. Somehow you get it on. It looks way too big for your dick. But you immediately get a hard-on. A huge hard-on. You fill the cage painfully almost to bursting. Fuck, how you would love to jerk off now. "Training. Right now. At least three hours" says a new message. You get dressed, take two bottles and go to the hotel gym.

The cock cage makes it look like you have a constant hard-on anyway. In fact, you have a hard-on almost all the time. Nevertheless, you give everything during his workout. At 23:00 the gym closes. You Pose in front of the mirror. Damn, you are a beast! You're about to take a shower when your cell phone rings. No shower. No shave. No deodorant. Until further notice!

In your hotel room you drink another protein shake. You notice that your suit, your shirt, your shoes, everything you wore to the conference today is gone. The key to your cock cage is also gone. Instead, a pair of leather jeans hangs in the closet. A pair of long shiny track pants. And a bomber jacket. A pair of tank tops. A pair of combat boots. A pair of sneakers. And, of course, the stuff from your suitcase. You pull the bomber jacket over the sweaty gym clothes. You feel the pack of cigarettes in the pocket on your sleeve. "Go on, go to the smokers' bar at the hotel. And let someone give you a light. Just as you are.". Actually, you just wanted to go to bed. But orders are orders. In your short sports shorts and tank top under your shiny nylon jacket you stand out in the bar like a colorful dog. Actually you want to take a box of matches. But the order was to have them give you a light. You approach an older gentleman in a suit who is smoking his cigar. He looks at you, opens your jacket and reads "Gym Slut" aloud. He gives you a light and asks what you take for once blowing. You have no idea what to answer. You say € 50.00. The gentleman grabs your crotch, feels the cock cage and grins. He asks if you can keep the money or if your master gets it. You don't answer at all and follow him wordlessly to the toilet.

It is 02:00 o'clock when you are back in your room. You have smoked a pack of cigarettes and sucked four cocks. "Gym at 06:00" is written in your display. You drink another protein shake and fall into a deep sleep.

Good thing you didn't take off your latex shorts to sleep. That way you could prevent another mess in your bed. You take off the shorts, wash them briefly in the sink and go to the gym without underpants with your sports clothes smelling of sweat and cigarette smoke. Heck, it's 09:00 when you remember the conference. Your boss will kill you if you skip the day. A message pops up on your phone with an address. 10:00. On time. You hesitate. So far, everything has been very cool and exciting. But now it's about your job. You don't think with your head anymore. You think with your dick. And your caged dick tells you that you have to be at the address at 10:00.

A dark side street in a bad looking neighborhood. The cab driver took your money and made sure he got there fast. Nothing but a black door in a black facade. And a doorbell. You ring the bell. And the door opens. A bare-chested fellow asks you if you're Gareth. You nod. He invites you in and tells you to take a seat. Hours of agony begin.

It is 22:00 o'clock, when you stand again on the street. Your hair is shorn short. And you are inked. Richly inked. You used to be Gareth. Now you are Pig. Or Gaz. At least both are so prominently inked on your neck. You call a cab, but the way you stand on the street with a cigarette in your mouth in your leather pants and bomber jacket over your otherwise naked torso, no car stops. You receive a new message. You have checked out of your hotel. Your luggage has moved to a guesthouse. Around the corner. The entrance is through a bar. In front of it a group of smoking young men, at the sight of which your cock cage is almost blown. One of the fellows looks at you, pulls up the contents of his nose and snorts everything on his boot. Two days ago you would have turned away in disgust. But now you get down on your knees. And lick the snot off his boots. The fellow pulls you up by your collar and spits in your face. He turns around and you follow without asking a question.

Before you move into your cell, you have to hand over your cell phone. You now receive your orders via a new cell phone. And the next order comes immediately. You have to take the anal beads and come to the bar. You may live in a cell, but you are not a prisoner. At most of your sexual fantasies. And now get to know your master.

Hot inspiration found at @pigbberlin

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #male transformation #muscle transformation

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zzoomacroom · 8 months

Text

Fic: If You Try Sometime, You'll Find You Get What You Need

Dreamling, Smut, 4114 Words

Tags and summary below the cut (very kinky, NSFW stuff here)

Chapters: 1/2

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Established Relationship, Dom/sub, BDSM, Light BDSM, (I guess? what constitutes "light" in this case? idk), Sex Toys, Dildos, Knotting Dildos, XL Dildos, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Nipple Clamps, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Coming Untouched, Humiliation, Masturbation, Double Penetration, Anal Fisting, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, King of Cats More Like King of Brats, Gentle Dom Hob Gadling, (well. he's just a teensy bit mean at first but then he's gentle), Under-negotiated Kink, Miscommunication, everything is consensual but it's not exactly what Dream had in mind at first, the importance of using your words, the importance of not assuming, probably out of character but idgaf, no beta we die like hob doesn't

Summary: Dream is being really bratty and gets more than he bargained for when Hob makes him put on a little show for him.

.....

It is 7:30 in the evening. Dream has been waiting for nearly two hours, and Hob still has not returned home from work. Dream is not worried for his beloved. Yet. But he is growing impatient. And restless. All day he has been feeling on edge. Agitated. He is “in a right state,” as Hob would say. His duties have left him feeling weary and in need of...something. He cannot say quite what. He hopes that Hob will know. Hob always knows just what he needs, what he wants, often better than Dream himself does. It should be an affront—that a mere human should perceive the Lord of Dreams so clearly—but Hob loves him deeply, and Dream loves Hob with every fiber of his arcane, incomprehensible being. It is...a relief, surprisingly. To be seen and known thus, when he cannot articulate his needs himself.

He stretches out on the sofa, though he is anything but relaxed. His posture is rigid as he fidgets with the slim, black leather collar around his neck, which he sometimes dons for his rendezvous with Hob in the Waking. Beneath his usual black jeans he wears a plug, despite the fact that his body needs no preparation, inhuman as it is. In the Dreaming, it is easier to express his wishes visually, but here he prefers to signify his intentions for any given encounter with such symbolic adornments as the collar and plug, or with his body language. He does not like to verbalize whether he wishes to dominate or be dominated, or both, or neither. He finds it...gauche. To speak of such things. Fortunately, Hob has more than six hundred years of experience in deciphering Dream’s nonverbal methods of communication. Tonight, he wishes for Hob to take control. To figure out what he needs and give it to him.

Finally, mercifully, Hob walks through the front door. He beams at his lover with that brilliant, beautiful smile of his, but he looks tired. His shoulders droop slightly and his eyes, usually so rich and earthy like fertile soil, look dull and lusterless. Dream considers leaving and postponing their liaison until they are both in a better mental state, but...he needs this. He needs Hob. Now.

…

“Hey, love. Sorry I’m late—office hours ran over a bit, student was in a tizzy over their thesis, but we got it sorted. You been waiting long?” Hob makes his way over to the sofa and gathers Dream into his arms before planting a quick, almost perfunctory kiss on his cheek. “You seem tense. Everything alright?”

“I am not tense, Hob Gadling,” his lover retorts haughtily. “I simply do not like to be kept waiting.”

Hob raises his eyebrows pointedly. “Oh no, of course not. That sounds terrible,” he replies sardonically. “My my, it seems someone’s in a mood tonight.” He hooks a finger under Dream’s collar and pulls him in for a proper kiss. Dream allows it, but gives Hob a sullen pout from under his eyelashes after they part. Well, if he’s going to be a brat, maybe some more waiting will actually do him good.

“But unfortunately,” Hob continues with a heavy sigh, “you’ll have to wait just a bit longer. I have a few emails to respond to, and I can’t put them off any longer. Won’t take but a minute.”

Dream lets out an annoyed huff. “I would prefer that you fuck me now.” He snakes a slender, white hand down to Hob’s lap and fondles his half-hard cock through his slacks.

“Not yet, darling,” Hob responds sternly, eliciting a shiver of excitement from Dream. “You can be patient for a little while longer. If you need to be fucked so bad, go ride one of your toys until I’m ready for you. If it pleases your majesty, that is,” he adds with a wicked smirk.

“Very well. If you insist,” Dream says loftily. He begins to rise from the sofa, but Hob stops him with a firm grasp on his shoulder.

“Wait,” Hob commands, and Dream obediently sits back down. “There’s a good lad. Can I trust you not to come, or do you need the cage?”

Dream glares daggers at him. “I do not need the cage, Hob,” he sneers. “I have complete control over my physical form, unlike yourself.” Oh, so it’s going to be like that. He’s angling for a punishment tonight.

“Fine,” Hob replies coolly. “But you’ll have to do it where I can see you, because we both know you can’t be trusted.”

He knows that Dream can make himself come with a mere thought, even with the cock cage, but he also knows that putting on such a display for Hob will send him over the edge, regardless of his alleged ‘control over his physical form.’ Luckily, this is no bother given Dream’s nonexistent refractory period, and Hob is curious whether he can succeed in taking his lover apart before he even gets his hands on him.

…

Hob makes tea for the both of them, then retreats to the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. He emerges minutes later in a faded Rolling Stones t-shirt and gray sweatpants that do nothing to hide his obvious arousal. He plants himself on the sofa with a weary groan and picks up his laptop, glancing expectantly at Dream over the top of the screen.

Dream, meanwhile, has commandeered the space between the coffee table and the fireplace. He has sent his coat, t-shirt, and jeans back to the unformed dreamstuff from whence they came, and in their stead he wears nothing but a pair of black, thigh-high stockings, held in place by studded leather garters that match his collar. He knows that these are a favorite of Hob’s, and if he won’t give him what he wants, then Dream will just have to distract him. If he is too aroused to focus on his work, perhaps he will bend Dream over the sofa and have his way with him sooner rather than later.

He stands before Hob, legs spread and cock already hard, gazing intently at his beloved. Suctioned to the floor at his feet is a large, beautifully-crafted dildo taken from the dreams of a Japanese fetish model. It is black and glittering, with curves, bumps, and swirls that do not resemble any penis found in the waking world. Dream reaches between his legs, not breaking eye contact for a second, and removes the sizable, tapered plug from his hole, tossing it carelessly to the floor.

Hob’s eyes widen and his breath hitches, and Dream smirks smugly as he crouches and lowers himself down onto the dildo in one fluid motion. Once he is fully seated, he lets out a contented moan and rolls his hips tantalizingly slowly before beginning to ride the toy in earnest.

Continue reading on ao3:

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weird-an · 1 year

Note

“Can you help me with this zipper?” Argilly >:)

Billy is a little shit. He has been trying to get in Argyle's pants ever since they moved together three months ago. Has been batting his eyelashes at him, walking through the apartment butt naked, claiming to have forgotten his towel, telling Argyle how flexible he is, how much he can take.

And Argyle is tempted.

It's just that Billy never dates. Fucks a lot, always different men, never the same. Laughed at Argyle's question if he ever wanted to commit with that much self disdain it made Argyle sick.

The problem isn't that Argyle doesn't want to fuck Billy. The problem is that he wants to hold his best friend too, that he wants to make him breakfast, make him feel good and that he wants to keep him.

Only Billy is making it hard for him. Argyle lost count how many times he had jerked off with Billy on his mind - and next door.

Today is even more of a challenge. Billy still wears his dirty jeans from work and no shirt. He is showing off his chest, a few golden curls growing on his pecs.

"Argyle!" He grins at him like a cat that's getting its cream.

"Can you help me with this zipper?" he asks, sounding almost bored. "It's stuck and I need to get ready for my date."

Yeah. Those dates when Billy brings home broad men with black hair that probably treat him like shit and still make him moan like a whore. Sometimes he yells Argyle's name so loud, it's embarrassing.

"You can't be serious, my dude." Argyle shakes his head.

"Please," Billy says. "Help a guy out."

Argyle bites his lip, because he remembers the first week of living together when he told Billy that if he wanted something he'd have to say please like a good boy.

He leans forward, pulls the zipper down with ease - and he sees the glint in Billy's eyes too late. It's a trap and he should have known better, but you can't blame a guy for getting distracted by Billy's abs. It's only natural.

Billy is going commando. Always does, like he mentioned many times. He's half hard, cock a little red.

"Like what you see?" he asks with faux innocence - but Billy Hargrove has been a lot of things in his life and innocent isn't the word Argyle would choose.

"Pretty," Argyle says, because Billy is pretty and his dick is, too.

Billy's cheeks turn pink, maybe not the answer he had been looking for. Maybe Argyle can turn them a bit redder. He should probably let go, but he's always been one for a good ounce of hedonism.

"Shouldn't you thank me?" His thumb presses against Billy's dick. Billy's hands tremble. "For helping you?"

He lets go, unable to avert his gaze from the glistening tip.

Billy tugs at the waistband of his green sweatpants, hungry and impatient. He pulls his pants down and only when the cold air hits his skin, Argyle realizes he's hard himself.

Billy sinks on his knees, licking his lips. His pupils are black holes, eating up the bright blue of his iris and Argyle feels like he's smoked too much.

He wraps his lips around Argyle's cock, tongue teasing the slit.

Argyle groans, pleasure growing inside him, hot and electrifying. He bucks his hips forward.

Billy struggles a little to take all off him, spit running down the corner of his mouth. Argyle pauses, waits until Billy relaxes around him.

He strokes Billy's cheek, feeling the muscles work underneath there. He's moving a little, until Billy swallows his length whole, lips stretched wide. Billy's nose rests against the base of his cock, blond curls against his black ones.

He begins to bop his head back and forth. Argyle's groaning, can't help but to tell Billy how good he is, how beautiful, how perfect. He feels Billy shuddering with every word, but never stopping to twirl his tongue around Argyle's dick. It's addicting and Argyle can't be one of the guys Billy takes home and never speaks to again.

Argyle tugs Billy's hair, pulls him off his cock.

"This isn't a one time thing," he says, more a statement than a question. He can't let it be.

Billy blinks at him, gaze glassy and lips swollen.

"It isn't," he agrees hoarsely.

Something inside Argyle untwists. Like when he's had a long day and takes the first puff of a joint. Only Billy is better than any drug he has ever taken.

Argyle feeds him his cock again. Watches Billy's throat convulse around him, can't hold back anymore. He's fucking his mouth, sharp, impatient thrusts.

Billy's wet warmth and the thought that Billy is his, that none of these guys can ever touch him again, push Argyle over the edge.

He comes hard, his orgasm shooting him into foreign galaxies where all the stars have the colors of Billy's eyes.

He's riding out the high, fucking lazily into Billy's mouth, hand still buried in the blond mullet.

"Let me take care of you," Argyle says. He pushes a bit of his come that dribbled out back between Billy's lips. Billy sucks on his fingers, before letting go with a wet pop. "You've been so good."

"That's..." Billy clears his throat, face red. Argyle looks down. Milky release runs down Billy's tanned stomach, his cock softening against his jeans, still not pulled down.

"You can go again, right? A really good boy." Argyle grins. "Wanna hear you scream my name for me for once. "

"Always screamed it for you," Billy admits.

"I know."

#argyle literally says the words good boy in the show so how could I not?#billy grew so desperate he had to make up the dumbest excuse #i didn't expect anyone to send me an argilly prompt #i wanna hug you anon!#argilly #billy hargrove #argyle #argyle and billy #billy hargrove & argyle

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dddomenstarstwst1 · 2 years

Note

H, J, K, O, and T with Deuce and Ace please??

Thank you for requesting!

H, J, K, O and T (ft.ace and deuce)

ace trappola

H — Horny

° let me tell you, ace is very horny. He constantly has his hands on you, eyes begging for you to drag him to some empty classroom and fuck his brains out. Absolutely shameless about it, too

J — Jack Off

° ace masturbates about two-three times a week, just because he always gets what he wants from you and doesn't see the need to jerk himself off. If both of you are busy and don't have free time, then i can see ace masturbating

K — Kink

° exhibitionism – absolutely has a thing for being caught having sex in public. More so, he purposefully does it in places he knows people come by, just to have that rush of adrenaline

O — Oral

° ace likes receiving oral, but his favorite is giving it. He's very good at going down on people regardless of their genitalia. He sucks, licks, kisses every inch, knows all sweet spots that give the most pleasure

T — Toy

° literally can compete with vil on his sex toys collection. From butt plugs to cock rings, to vibrators, to dildos. Every size, every shape, ace tried every toy in his collection at least once, and keeps the ones he doesn't use in case he discovers their potential

deuce spade

H — Horny

° ah, deuce. He keeps his true feelings from you, he wants to be touched by you, wants to touch you, his mind imagines every dirty thing possible, but deuce is shy and doesn't show you how horny he actually is

J — Jack Off

° masturbates very often. He does it almost everyday, because he gets so sexually frustrated with not being able to ask you for something. It's not always enough, so when deuce gets desperate, he texts you in the middle of the night

K — Kink

° oral fixation – put your fingers in his mouth while you fuck his hole, and deuce goes into subspace much quicker. Deuce needs something in his mouth so much, he will suck on your nipples, fingers or your sex

O — Oral

° deuce prefers giving oral, he wasn't very good at it at first, but he learns quickly. Since he has oral fixation kink, boy receives pleasure from having something in his mouth, and what's better than your sex?

T — Toy

° doesn't have a big collection of sex toys, probably a couple of dildos, a vibe and a butt plug. That's enough for deuce, but he won't stop you from buying him more toys to use on both of you

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cadkitten · 7 months

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Find a WIP word game

Tagged by @setsailslash. Tagged for words apron, hands, soft, and cock. (Also of note, if y'all tag me in something I'm hugely unlikely to see it as I use mobile mostly. DM my sorry butt and poke me about it lol! I do love doing these, just never actually see them until eons later.)

BruJay for "soft" --What it means to speak these words for DC Dark Week--

Instead, he sees a pain that mirrors his own. He doesn't understand why. This man has everything he could ever want. Millions of dollars, a giant home, a literal swimming pool in the backyard that's big enough to be a nature preserve. The man's Batman for crying out loud. There's nothing in the world that should make this guy's eyes tell him he gets it, that he truly understands Jason's pain. Still, it seals his lips shut, leaves him looking at the books on the shelf in front of him instead of spitting words laced with acid like he wants to. The soft, "Any books you want are yours," is what Bruce leaves him with. Then he's gone and Jason's alone and the fireplace is crackling and that super expensive couch is calling his name. He chooses one and carefully takes it to the couch, curls up, and reads until dawn's light is peeking through the window and when he falls asleep, he's warmer than he's ever been in his entire life. There's a second where he thinks: maybe he does want this safety, this warmth, this place. He tucks his pain way down deep and casts the blanket of his lies over himself, just like he always does. He's strong. He'll survive.

Jason & Dick for "hands" --Bleed one last time for DickJayWeek--

He doesn't hesitate, because Robin doesn't hesitate. Jason Todd might. Jason Todd might curl up and sob his heart out and fear the very worst. But Jason isn't the one in control, or at least he tells himself that like a song set on repeat as he kneels by Dick's side and spills the supplies from the bag he snagged on his way here. His hands are steady even as his soul shakes. His gaze is sure even as his heart cries. And he begins through the things he needs to do, heedless the supplies they no longer have. The morphine that has run dry, the handful of pills that will only help later, when the initial agony has faded. They're only playing catch-up now, in every aspect of their lives.

Dick/Terry for "cock" --In Grief, Finding Forever for dickgraysonweek--

"Batman," Dick supplies and there's an edge to his voice, a desperate sort of strain that speaks of agony even if his face isn't showing it. "Batman," Terry agrees. They sit with that for long enough it almost feels sinful to break the silence, but Terry does it anyway. "He cared, even that first night. Cocky as I was, I claimed I'd have won against those Jokerz, but… I probably would have died there without him." "Technically, he almost killed you by being on the road."

I don't have one with apron, so I went with two kinds of the word cock ;)

JayDami for "cock" --To be Whole for JayDamiWeek--

He whirls away and makes an angry beeline for the mats, for the punching bag, for anything that will let him get this out without beating the shit out of the fucking wall and killing his hands, without taking it out on Gotham tonight. He's better than that. Or at least he wants to be. He has to be. The mantle will be his soon. So soon. Bruce is slowing down, growing easier to hurt, more fragile and his wounds taking longer to heal. The first punch is agony. The second is anger and the third is not the catharsis he's looking for. There's tears stinging his eyes and he's a bomb, primed to explode, a gun cocked and ready. Tagging anyone who wants to with words: stripe, gasp, eyelids, and tease.

#my writing #writing meme

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awfulthing · 1 month

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i must have shattered the last of my dom's patience because one second i'm being a little bratty and the next he's got his hand around my throat and my body pinned against the wall. i'm whimpering when his grip tightens and his jaw sets—i know i pushed him too far and now he's going to punish me. my small hands are wrapping around his wrist to tug at it, but it's no use. he's so much bigger and stronger than me. i'm always at his mercy, and i'm reminded of it again when his hand dips below the waistband of my skirt and cups my pussy, the butt of his palm pressing against my clit and making me whimper out a moan. "you're gonna learn not to misbehave, baby," he growls in my ear. i'm scared, but i'm soaking wet and ready for him already. he slips two fingers inside me and moves his palm rhythmically against the soft bundle of nerves there and before long i'm close, so close— i'm shaking in his grip, eyes shut tight and ready to explode, but the minute i'm there, he stops. i whine and writhe in his grip, arching towards his hand and craving the friction, but it does no good. he has me where he wants me, and i can't do a thing about it.

he mercilessly edges me and by my twelfth almost-orgasm, i'm so undone that i'm sobbing and crying and begging for him to let me cum. please, please, let me cum. daddy, please, i'll be good. and finally, after what feels like forever, he lets me. it's so strong that by the end of my orgasm i'm limp in his grasp and he has to pick me up and hold me against his chest. he shushes me, strokes my hair and lets me sit curled up in his lap until my body stops shaking and i'm resting there dazed with my face buried in his neck. my sensitive clit pressing against his thighs hurts so good. he's comforting me and i'm so glad the punishment is over. i meant it; i'll be good. i promise.

i'm almost asleep in his arms when i feel him get up and suddenly i'm thrown roughly onto the bed and he's climbing over my body, pinning both of my wrists in one of his large, calloused hands above my head. i'm gasping with wide, red eyes, startled and frightened, and he smiles at me. a sick sense of excitement makes me clench my thighs together. i know that look. he's going to hurt me, and i'm going to take it, like the good little girl i am. "you didn't think it was over, did you, baby? you haven't learned your lesson." and then he's touching me between my legs, making me whimper and moan until he's thrusting his fingers inside me and stretching me, curling them over and over and making my back arch up off the bed in pleasure. i feel tricked and betrayed—i thought it was over, i thought he forgave me—and it's so good, it feels so good and god, it hurts. i'm so sensitive that just a feather touch makes me burn.

he doesn't stop until i've come thirteen times—he makes me count them out loud. i mess up once when i miss the number three, and he makes me start all over again. when he's done i'm soaking wet and aching in pain, making a sticky mess on the bed, and i'm sobbing crying at the too-much sensations. please, daddy, i can't. i can't take it anymore. it hurts, i'm too sensitive, please. the look on his face says he won't show me any mercy, and then i hear the zipper of his jeans coming undone. his hard cock is inside me in a second, the thrust so brutal it feels like he's tearing me. he has me sopping wet under him but it's still not enough to prepare me for him. i'm so full, i'm so sensitive, and then he's thrusting inside me so slow, so agonizingly slow. his fingers press against my clit and begin to move side to side, up and down, wrenching a pained cry from my throat. all i can do is look up at him with wet eyes and i know i'm all his—his to use and abuse, and like he said, i'm going to pay. "i'm going to make you cum until i think you've had enough, when you're screaming and crying and begging me to stop, and then i'm going to fuck you until i'm satisfied. and you're gonna take it, baby, you're gonna show daddy how much of a good girl you can be, how sorry you are for misbehaving... and when i'm done with you, you'll never backtalk me again."

#my writing.#plot inspo.

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ggidolsmuts · 2 years

Text

Roleplaying - Oh My Girl Arin

This is a “sequel” for Penpals

"How've you been?" Daddy's voice rumbles against Arin's back, the two of them settled comfortably in the hot tub. Part 1 of their little tryst was done, and Arin is feeling comfortably stretched, the warm water bringing relief to her sore muscles.

"Good, I’ve been busy with my comeback!"

"Comeback? What do you mean?" Shit, right, he didn't know who she was, of course, about her being an idol. Arin curses herself under the mask.

"Oh, I meant, um, coming back to the office. Now that things are opening up again."

"Oh okay, speaking of comebacks, my new favorite group is doing a comeback!"

"Which one?”

"Oh My Girl!” Arin freezes, before forcing herself to relax against him.

"Oh, I’ve... heard of them, they’re quite popular now.”

"They are!”

"Who’s your favorite member?”

"Their maknae, she’s so cute, Arin? I think.” Arin's heart skips a beat, and so does a shot of arousal, as something very naughty strikes her.

"Really? She's cute?"

"Yeah, she doesn't like to do aegyo, but she's so cute!"

"What about pretty?"

"Hm? I mean of course! She's pretty!"

The actual maknae of Oh My Girl tilts her head back, kissing his jaw.

"What about sexy, do you think she’s sexy?”

"I umm...”

"Show me what she looks like.” Arin asks daringly, dangerously testing if he would recognize her from behind the mask. He reaches for his phone and pulls up a picture of her. Annoyingly he pulls up the tamest ones, and Arin takes the phone from him, adding the word "sexy" to the search term. She finds one that is much more suggestive, her skirt flying up in the air—her safety shorts left nothing to imagination.

"Look at those thighs, that body, don’t tell me you don’t fantasize about her.”

"I don't! I-I wouldn’t!”

"Are you really trying to pretend to be innocent now?” Arin asks witheringly-they’ve always shared every kink, every fantasy.

"Fine, I would.

"Good, let’s roleplay. I’ll be Arin, you can do whatever you want to Oh My Girl’s maknae, Daddy." Her hands sink beneath the water surface—one goes to her own breast, gently squeezing her chest for his benefit. The other goes down between his legs, stroking him, also for his benefit.

"Do you think she's a dom, or a sub?" she whispers sensually into his ear. "Is she going to ride you until you can't get it up anymore?" She grabs his cock firmly, almost painfully. Then she trails a finger tip from head to base, caressing him. "Or is she going to want you take her however you want, fuck her senseless like an animal, absolutely ruin her..." With him definitely rock hard, Arin smiles underneath her mask, kisses his quivering jaw, and gets up slowly, making sure his eyes are glued to her figure as she steps out of the hot tub.

"I'll be waiting." The water trails off her body, and one particularly rivulet seems to disappear between her butt cheeks before reappearing on the cusp of her lower lips. His vision darkens, seeming to zoom in on that droplet. He watches the droplet grow, aided by her slick, and it hits critical mass, detaching from Arin and hitting the floor.

She never makes it to the door.

"Mmm!" Arin's breath is taken away as he slams her against the door, his chest pressing against her back.

"Fuck Mommy, you can't just do that."

Arin is slightly put out that he isn't doing the roleplay yet, but very turned on by his sudden roughness.

"Call me Arin."

"A-Arin?"

"Mmhmm, I want you to fuck Arin, not Mommy." He sucks his breath in, as if still trying to resist his urges, many lewd fantasies suddenly surfacing in his mind. "I'll be whatever you want Arin to be." He stays silent, and Arin eggs him on.

"She looked quite cheeky in those pics, ever want to hot dog her? Here." She reaches for her own butt, raising her hips slightly to make sure his cock is right between her cheeks. Her hands squeeze them together as she moves up and down slightly.

"Looks like a hot dog doesn't it? Go ahead, it needs your dressing." He groans as his shaft slides in between Arin's smooth cheeks, and his own hands join hers, pushing her cheeks together with more pressure. "That's it, keep going, imagine how it'll feel sliding in and out of Arin's pussy."

Soon he is moaning and actively thrusting between her cheeks. His reluctance melts away every time his tip pokes out from her ass, and he announces his limit quickly.

"Fuck Arin, I'm going to cum!"

"That's it Daddy, cum for Arin, cum all over me!" She purrs in satisfaction as his hot cum lands all over her back, in time with the throbbing of his cock between her cheeks. His chin rests on her shoulder, and he breathes heavily into her ear while he recovers, almost using her to stay standing. Without a care his thumbs wipes the cum off her back as he runs his hands up and down her midriff, and he buries his face in her neck, asking her a question.

"Are you sure?"

Arin is mildly surprised at his question, that he still isn't fully into the idea, but from the shakiness of his voice she knows he is barely holding on. His follow up statement though—that gets Arin wet beyond any shower or hot tub could do.

"I kinda like you as you though."

She turns her head and locks him in a kiss, their masks jostling slightly in how fiercely they are suddenly kissing, as if she wanted to plunge her tongue straight down his throat.

"Are you going to give Arin her reward?" Breathlessly she breaks the kiss and asks coquettishly, and finally he gives in.

"How does Arin want her reward?"

"Whatever makes me feel good Daddy," she sighs as he immediately begins planting kisses along her shoulders. He slides down her body, his hands smearing a trail of his earlier cum down her sides. To her surprise he sits down, slipping his head between Arin and the door. With his hands back on her ass, he manipulates her so that she is basically on his face, and Arin ends up half sitting on him and half pinning his face against the door.

"Oh fuck, you eat me so well!" His nose brushes against her clit over and over as Arin rides him, face-fucking him into the door. He tongues her rapidly, tracing laps around her slit before dipping in for a taste, and her juices start to spill down his chin.

The door starts to rattle from Arin's thrusts, and his head is gently knocking against the door every time, but neither of them cared. The whole time his hands have stayed planted on her butt, and as she begins to move more wildly he slips a finger between her cheeks, gently playing with her puckered ring. The sensation drives Arin mad, and when a bit of his finger slips in her shout echoes in the bathroom.

"Ahh oh god!" Arin covers his face in slick, and it spills down his body, covering his front much like he had covered her back. Her knees go weak, and he has to catch her, make sure she doesn't slip. One hand on the door and another hand in his hair, Arin braces herself through her climax, shaking off all the drops of water and slick still on her gorgeous figure. She slowly slides her pussy down his face and body, landing in his lap.

"Did Arin enjoy her reward?" he asks huskily. Face-to-face with him once more, Arin fears for a second that he recognizes her, but then she remembers the masks they always wore, and she reassures herself, using her second mask, her job as Arin the idol, to titillate him further.

"Yes she did, and she can't wait to have more fun with you." She gets up off his lap and leads him to the shower. A quick tantalizing shower later, their impromptu mess is cleaned and Arin wraps herself in a tower and whispers in his ear.

"Get dressed and wait in your room, Arin wants to strip you herself."

Thrilled, Daddy Long Leg stews in his room, turning on the TV but unable to concentrate at all. He puts on and takes off clothes again and again, unable to decide how "dressed" he should be. He keeps his arousal at a bubble point, pulling up some of Arin's racier fancams, letting his imagination run wild. A mere knock pushes his arousal to a boiling point, and when Arin enters the door he is steaming.

She is dressed in a white blouse and a red checkered skirt, the split going right in front, across her body and held up by a belt, like a present to unwrap.

"What are you looking at?" He tries to put his phone away, but Arin is too quick, stealing it from him with a giggle. "Oh, were you watching me? What were you expecting from me?" she asks, teasing him. She pretends to examine the fancam, as if studying the moves, but really, she knew it by heart.

"That show was for my fans, how about a private show for my biggest fan?" Arin drags a chair over and sits in it before pressing play on the fancam. The phone blasts the music in the hotel room, and even though he had just watched the video, it does not compare to the show she is putting on now.

A part of him marvels at how well Mommy Red Cheeks is able to imitate Arin's moves on such short notice—little does he know that she has spent hours practicing, and her body moves with the music on its own. A smaller yet much harder part of him notices far too keenly Arin's lack of safety shorts as she pulls her leg up and over the chair.

The chair slides gratingly across the floor, but neither of them care as Arin mounts him, taking the performance into his lap. A finger tracing the outline of his mask, her hand is almost gentle as she runs it along his cheek, before cupping it and pulling him in for a fevered kiss. His hands find their way to her slim waist and pull her further into him, her skirt riding higher and higher up until her clothed heat touches his pant-shielded length. Arin squirms and grinds against him, her mouth hanging open as she focuses on both the pleasure and the performance—this was a performance done for no one else but themselves.

"Do you want me?" she asks in a low voice.

"Yes, fuck yes..." he rasps back.

"Say my name!"

"I want you so much Arin!" God, the way he says it, it makes Arin's pussy clench on nothingness, she needed him inside her! Shakily her fingers play with his shirt buttons, and he does the same, fumbling with her blouse. He throbs even harder in his pants—even though he had seen Mommy's perky breasts many times, seeing Arin’s curves peeking through the soon-to-be-removed blouse is driving him mad. He unbuckles her belt, and Arin's blouse and skirt are wide open for the taking.

He slips his hands underneath the thin top as Arin slips hers under his undone shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. The performance is all but forgotten by the both of them, and it is timely as the fancam has finished—time to move on to the real show.

"Strip me..." Daddy follows her command eagerly, almost ripping her blouse as he tears it off her lithe figure, flinging it to his bed. He tugs on the skirt, but it is not so easy to remove. Laughing slightly Arin gets off him, putting on a show as she pulls down on the hidden side zipper, and the skirt falls from her body.

"Your turn." Playfully Arin reaches for his pants, undoing them quickly and pulling it clean off, along with his boxers. Daddy's shirt joins Arin's blouse, forgotten somewhere on the bed behind them.

"So, how do you think Arin fucks?" she asks.

"That sounds so wrong..." He can't suppress his moan when Arin kneels between his legs, taking his cock in her hands.

"You're right, how do you imagine Arin fucks? Maybe she likes to suck it first, get it nice and sloppy?" Teasing him, Arin let’s his cock slip out of her mouth, and it slaps against her cheek wetly. When she puts it back in his fingers dig into her hair, pushing her mouth further down on his shaft. She keeps at it, bobbing her head up and down. She wanted to ask him if he thinks Arin would be this skilled with her mouth, but it is currently occupied by his pulsing shaft.

Arin let's him go when he starts producing precum, and his final moan is one of disappointment, but she has other plans. As much as she liked him blowing in her mouth and rocking his world, right now Arin needed her world rocked too.

"How was that?"

"Good, amazing," he mutters breathlessly.

"Great, now imagine Arin— mmm..." she sinks down into his lap, the sloppy blowjob allowing her to take him all the way. "Imagine Arin just sinking onto your cock, it stretches her so fucking well."

"Fuck!" Daddy moans his agreement. "So tight!"

"She is isn't she? Mmm god she's so naughty, taking your dick raw. Bouncing on you, when you could cum in her unprotected pussy at any time..." He throbs harder inside her, as if wanting nothing more than to do exactly that. "Mm you'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Yes!" he groans into her neck.

Arin knew just how to tease him. "Hold on for me Daddy, you can do that right?" She bucks her hips strongly into him, and he grits his teeth and moans agreement. Arin nibbles his earlobe as a reward.

"Good, I'm going to ride you until you forget what it feels like to have Arin's tight pussy not stretched around you!"

Her arms wrap around his neck, and Arin goes on the ride of her life. Knees planted into the bed, she humps him slowly at first, cooing at his kisses along her collarbone. The whole roleplay arguably turns Arin on more than Daddy Long Leg, the idea that he's having sex with her and not "Mommy Red Cheeks" sending a warm flush through her body. It surprises Arin too, and soon with a yelp she's announcing her climax.

"Oh fuck, Daddy!"

The rhythmic contractions of Arin's pussy gives way to erratic squeezes, and he shuts his eyes to not have to look at Arin in the throes of her orgasm—just the feel of her slick sliding down his shaft is almost enough to send him off the edge, but he manages to hold on—he has to.

"Can you keep going? I still remember what it feels like to not have you wrapped around me," he teases her.

"Shut, up..." Arin moans airily before riding him again. This time she rides him more wildly, and she mashes her lips on his, reveling in his large hands on her, caressing her back and shoulders. Her chest rubs against him, and he hugs her closely, feeling her stiff nipples drag up and down on him as she jackhammers herself on top.

Arin feels short all of a sudden, as if every sink of her hips is sending his cock straight to her head, and she fucking loves it. Her fingers dig into his shoulders, and she's a drooling mess on his neck as she uses all her core strength, her tummy flexing and twitching as she bounces herself silly on his rod.

"Ah... ah... mmm, nngh... fuck!" The noises she makes are absolutely unbecoming of a human, but Arin's too far gone to care, slamming herself down one last time before she seizes up, her body shuddering through one of the more intense orgasms she's given herself.

"Ow, fuck..." The sting of Arin biting into his shoulder thankfully pulls him out of his pre-orgasm ascent, and Daddy Long Leg holds on to her suddenly limp form—the only muscle still working in Arin is the one that is wrapped around his shaft. The orgasm seems to squeeze both him and Arin, draining the latter of all her juices, if the sheer wetness in his lap is any indication. He stays quiet, focusing on backing himself away from the edge, as her sexy whines and random contractions around him threaten to push him too far.

"Have you forgotten yet?" she asks him, trying to be teasing, but also clearly drained, panting between each word.

"No, but I don't think I can forget you wrapped around me either." He makes to lay her down on the bed, but hurriedly she stops him.

"You haven't cum yet have you? I'm going to ride you till you cum."

"Mommy, you don't have—"

"Arin!" she reminds him.

"Arin, you don't have to."

"But I want to!" She presses her forehead against his, making herself grind down into him. "I've been using Daddy Dildo a lot, just imagining your cum in me!"

"Oh god," he remembers the custom toy he made for Mommy, and the idea of Arin using it instead puts him back on the path to climax.

"I want the real thing, and when I get off you, I want nothing to come out, it's going to stay sealed in me." He moans at the image, and his hands go to Arin's waist, helping her move sinuously on top of him. It starts off slow, her soft tired moans filling his ears, but soon Arin's flexing her walls, squeezing his shaft with every downward drop of her hips, urging him to orgasm.

"Cum for me," she whispers, almost begging him.

"Almost, I'm so close!" he moans. Arin bites his bottom lip needily before finishing him off with a cutesy whisper.

"Arin-ie wants your cum." The contrast of her cute tone and squelching squeeze of her pussy, the sheer sinfulness of everything—it sends him flying over the edge. He jams her down into his lap, and with a loud groan into her neck he explodes.

"Oh god yes..." Arin whimpers as rope after rope of thick seed is fired straight into her, splattering her walls. Layer upon layer of it coats her pussy, and unconsciously her thighs around him close tightly, as if to extract more cum from him. A primal rush overtakes her, not quite an orgasm, but almost as satisfying, and she is cooing with him, the two of them stuck together like two perilla leaves. His hands move up and down her back, caressing her, calming himself down from his peak.

"Sorry, I left a mark." Arin winces as he kisses her neck, and she realizes that he had sucked quite harshly on her skin.

"It's okay, I did it too." Her fingers run gently over his shoulder, where she had bitten down on him..

"Fair enough, fuck that was amazing." Arin kisses him again before getting off, and their eyes are glued to her pussy. As soon as she is unplugged, a flood of white leaks out of her, making a mess of the bed. Arin rolls off him, and he assumed that she was going to the bathroom to clean up, but to his surprise and utter delight, she crawls past him, further up the bed.

"Oh no, I'm leaking all of your cum, don't you want to stuff more in me?" She curls a finger at him, drawing him in. "Your turn. Arin fucked you good, now are you going to fuck Arin even better or not?"

His cock can't quite rise to the challenge yet, but his fingers can. Arin squirms and whimpers as he plunges two fingers into her creamy warmth.

"Ah... what are you doing?"

"Cleaning you out, going to give you a fresh load." Daddy Long Leg is very thorough in his "cleaning", and soon Arin washes his load out with slick of her own, her legs twisting and trapping his arm as she moans into his chest. Vaguely he recognizes the fabric Arin is ruining with her climax—it was his shirt, but he didn't care, he'd wear it out of the hotel anyways, complete with DNA evidence.

He breaks out of her quivering embrace, and with two fingers still plugged in her, he settles between her thighs, her legs dangling over his shoulders.

"Wait, oh!" Arin squeals when his teeth lightly graze her clit, the engorged bud suddenly the focus of his attention. He licks up on her clit while his finger curl upwards, right onto her sweet spot, and Arin turns her head, biting into his shirt to stifle the outright scream she almost lets out. Her senses are overloaded with pleasure, and her nostrils are filled with the scent of his shirt, of him, and it sends her spiraling into the abyss.

Her eyes rolling in her head occasionally, and with tears leaking out of them constantly, Arin's legs kick and straighten uselessly in the air as she is overstimulated to one peak after another, her thighs crushing his head. Every curl of his fingers makes her core twitch and flex, and she responds by trying to sit up, her hands pushing his face deeper between her legs. When he then licks her clit, she crashes back down on the bed with a cry, lifting her hips off the sheets to further press herself into his face.

Over and over the ecstatic cycle repeats, and when Daddy finally stops, Arin is a sweaty mess, her skin glistening from her rapturous exertions. He fares little better of course, his face covered in a sheen of her juices, not to mention red from Arin's thighs squeezing him repeatedly.

Yet still she manages to surprise him again. Weakly she flips over on her front, and with her face still buried in his shirt she slowly gets on her knees, lifting her gorgeous ass to a fuckable height.

"Come on Daddy, time for you to finally fuck me."

Daddy Long Leg couldn't wait any longer, didn't want to wait any longer, and so with the slightest of pauses to savor the heat of her pussy on his tip, he leans over Arin and plunges into her.

"Fuck yes!"

Arin almost throws her hips forward to get away from him, the sudden stretch making her dizzy, but she stills herself, not shying away from how damn full he makes her feel. She delights at his harsh pants in her ear, happy at the effect she has on him. He growls in her ear, and part of her knows she'll regret it the next day—no, week, but right now, she looks forward to it.

"I'm going to fuck you until your pussy forgets what it's like to not be stuffed."

"Say my, nnngh!" He gives her one test thrust. "Say my name!"

"Arin!" He grits his teeth, admitting to his desires once more—not Mommy, but Arin. She turns to face him, sloppily plunging her tongue between his lips.

"Say you'll fuck me!"

"I'm going to fuck you Arin!" he moans as he starts moving, starting with steady thrusts. As he thrusts he follows the curve of Arin's delectable back, kissing up and down her spine as best he could.

"Mmm! Oh god, tell me how you're going to fuck me!"

"I'm going to rail you into tomorrow Arin, you'll be dripping my cum for days!"

"Yes, do whatever you want!" He pins her upper body to the bed, smearing her makeup all over his shirt, and Arin screams into it as he ups the pace, using gravity to drive his cock straight through her. Every pound of his cock into Arin seems to create a new g-spot in her, and she cries out loudly as every slam feels better than the last.

Each touch of his hands on her seems to land on an erogenous zone, and his sweat and scent drives her mad with lust. He makes good on her ask, ravaging her, ruining her and her pussy for anyone else—again and again he plunges his shaft past her pussy lips, so much so that they are red and sore and loose, as if they would be permanently gaped by his cock.

Arin doesn't care, she's reduced to groans and shouts, animalistic in her cries for more. She pushes back against him, and each thrust drives ever deeper into her. It only eggs him to go faster, and soon Arin can only keep her ass aloft, unable to keep up with his frantic rhythm, highlighted by loud claps of flesh.

"Fuck Arin!" There's no point calling out his climax, no need for Arin to tell him where to cum—he is going to finish in her. So with a simple shout he pushes his hips down on Arin and fills her up. Gravity sends his seed straight into her womb, and Arin whimpers at the burst of warmth. Daddy Long Leg goes limp, and Arin's strength similarly gives out, the two of the collapsing on the bed. His heartbeat hammers into her back, throbbing like his cock inside her a few moments ago.

Just the thought makes her want it again.

"M-More..." Arin mumbles mindlessly, and with renewed bestial strength he hooks his arms under her shoulders, pulling his mate off the bed and sitting back on his heels. She settles in his lap, and though he slips out of her, neither of them cared—he would be back in her whenever he was ready.

Supporting her tired body, his hands roam her trembling figure, kneading her breast, skimming over her tummy. Her hand reaches for his chin, and he grabs her jaw in return, turning her to face him. Her tongue licks his lips, but instead of kissing him, she breaks away, leaning further back into his shoulder.

"More, I want more..." she sighs, reaching backwards to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Okay." He wasn't fully hard yet, but that was fine. With an "oof" they land back on the bed, and he admires Arin's prone body once more, his hands automatically going to her perky cheeks. Arin's mind is still blank from pleasure—all she thinks about is giving him what he wants, since that gives her more pleasure.

"Take my ass, if you want it..." His hands pause on her butt, and Arin wriggles her hips, begging him to keep going with his hands. His weight descends on her, his body flush against hers. She can feel his full erection now.

"What did you say?"

"If you like Arin's ass so much, fuck it, cum in it, make me feel good!" He's amazed by her dedication to the roleplay, but more than anything, he can't get enough of her, getting everything he wants from her, and giving her everything she wants. He pushes into her pussy again, giving her a few thrusts to lubricate himself thoroughly. Once he's in though, he didn't feel like pulling out. He withdraws almost completely, until his tip is at her entrance.

"Wha— Ooh!" Arin yelps as he pushes back into her unexpectedly, his tip rubbing right across her spot.

"Sorry, maybe next time, I like your ass, but I love your pussy."

"If you say so, I don't mind." Arin turns around and pulls him back down, not minding his weight on her. "Finger my ass, lick it, I don't care, but Daddy's cock belongs in my pussy."

"Yes it does." He buries his length fully in her, and for a while he just lays on top of her, kissing the back of her sweaty neck.

"Are you going to move?"

"Later, my little Arin feels good as a cockwarmer too."

"Yeah? I'll come by every night, keep you and your cock warm and hard, ready for fucking whenever you want it."

"And whenever you want it."

"Right, I'll ride you whenever I want, and you can plow me whenever, and—oh fuck!" He takes her by surprise, his one pump taking her breath away. "Yes just like that, keep going!"

The passionate dirty talk suddenly turns wild as he pins Arin to the bed prone. The bed becomes a third participant, noisily creaking as it pushes against his thrusts—it allows Daddy Long Leg to almost bounce in and out of Arin, spearing her silky walls open with grunts and moans. Arin is forced to take ownership of his shirt, biting, tearing, and ripping into it. He yanks on her hair, ravishing her as she screams out her pleasure.

"Oh yes, right there, oppa do me everyday, I want this all the time—mmph!" He tears the mask off her and captures her lips in a feral kiss, licking all over her face. It didn't matter who she really was, how she really looked, who she roleplayed as, he wanted her, everything else be damned.

Arin doesn't even notice the mask coming off, she's too engrossed in the pleasure, in the kiss. She's running out of oxygen, unable to even pant fast enough to keep up. His hand around her neck, supposedly to tilt her head up to him, unconsciously tenses and closes around her throat as he nears his own orgasm. Arin tightens and contracts around him as her vision gets a little blurred, either from lack of oxygen, or from the tears of pleasure spilling from her eyes.

Oh fuck—

Oh god—

Their thoughts simultaneously end as they crash into the bed, bodies convulsing together in silent yet deafening climax. They lose all track of sense and time, tiredly humping each other as nature intended. They croon their necks to the ceiling, groaning satisfyingly as he pushes her hips down into the bed, dumping everything into her and filling her to the brim. When they both recover, the first thing they feel is euphoria, hands wandering on bodies with loving, lustful touches; and then reality hits—stickiness all over, but they were too sore to care.

Daddy Long Leg is utterly drained, and in his place Arin almost feels bloated, as if he had just plugged her up with thick seed. Her hand wanders to her abdomen, and when his weight on top of her suddenly traps her hand against her belly, Arin whimpers, feeling herself essentially spurt his load from between her legs—just how much did he cum in her?

Blindly his hand wanders over Arin's head, finding her face, and too tired to even open his eyes, he leans in to kiss her.

"You're amazing, fuck I love you." Arin's too tired to think, and in the moment she answers honestly.

"Love you too oppa."

Daddy Long Leg opens his eyes the next morning to the annoying ring of the room phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi sir, we note that you missed your checkout time, and we received several noise complaints yesterday, and you did not answer the door—"

"Yeah yeah whatever, put it on my bill." He hangs up. But through the connected toilet he could hear the phone ringing from Mommy Red Cheeks' room too. Too sore to sit up, he lays back down on the bed as he tries to shake her awake.

"Hey, they're calling you in your room, you should go pick it up. We overstayed, I'll cover the bill."

"Hm? Oh, it stopped." True to her words the ringing has thankfully died down.

"Mm, good." He sleepily turns to face her, draping his arm across her. Through half-open eyes he suddenly realizes that Mommy Red Cheeks is not wearing a mask, and to his great shock he recognizes who she is.

"What?! Arin?" No no no, fuck no, no fucking way!

"What did you say? How did you—" Arin reaches up to her face, and she yelps too when she realizes she's not wearing a mask, her hands immediately covering her face. Still, there's no covering up what had just happened.

"No no no, fuck!" Arin dashes through their connected bathroom, and the door slams shut on the other side. Hurriedly he throws off the covers, running towards her before thinking better of it and stopping to put on some clothes first.

"Hey, let's talk! I'm sorry I took off your mask, it happened in the heat of the moment, I wasn't thinking," he calls out, knocking on the door. No response, and light sniffles. "Look, Arin—I mean, Mommy, no, I mean—whatever! You have my word, I won't go to the media, and I won't do anything you don't want me to. If you never want to meet me again, that's fine. Even if you never want to see me again I won't go to the media, what you do is your business."

More silence, guess that's that.

"I—I enjoyed our time together, but it was good, in a way, to finally meet the person behind the mask. If you're curious too, I'll be in my room, packing up. I'll check out, and I’ll cover your bill too. It was, umm, nice knowing you."

With no further response, he sighs and goes back to his room to clean up and pack. Everything goes into his suitcase, everything except Arin's blouse, tossed away thoughtlessly a few hours ago. It made a lot more sense now, how she was so good at mimicking the performance, and how into the roleplay she was. He shrugs and folds it up neatly—maybe he'll leave it at her door.

While he is engrossed in his thoughts, there is a knock coming from the front door of his room. Why are they so impatient?

"I'm checking out right—" he stops in his tracks when he realizes it isn't housekeeping in front of him, but Arin, Mommy Red Cheeks.

"Can I come in?"

"Um yes, of course." She sits down on the side of the bed, the bed where she screamed in pure pleasure just hours ago. It is similar to many other beds, on which they have done many unspeakable things to one another before today. Yet now everything has changed.

"It is nice to meet you finally," she mumbles quietly, blushing ruby red.

"You too... you're very pretty! Oh, umm, your blouse," he finishes lamely, handing her the folded top.

"Oh, thank you. Sorry about your shirt, I think."

"It's okay, I'll get a new one."

The silence that descends on the room is just as deafening as their combined orgasm earlier. The smell of sex still reeks in the air.

"What will you do now?" Arin asks.

"About?"

"About me."

"Nothing? There's nothing to 'do'. Like I said I'm keeping my mouth shut."

"You're not disappointed?"

"About what?"

"About your favorite idol doing, you know, stuff like this?"

"No I mean, it's hot, but not something I've thought of exactly. Not that I ever fantasized about you, of course."

"Before last night?" she teases him, chuckling softly.

"Right, and that's mostly your fault," he fires back.

"Fair enough, I should take responsibility then, hm?" Arin mulls thoughtfully.

"What?"

"I guess we need to continue doing this, now that you've started fantasizing about me."

He can hardly believe his ears.

"You want to continue doing this? With me?"

"I mean, you're cute enough under the mask, and we are... compatible." Arin blushes as she says that last word, but she powers through her shyness. "Plus it'd be good to not have to wear the masks, they get kinda uncomfortable after a while."

That he could agree with, the sweat and scratchiness of the mask became irritating after some of their more intense sessions, but still, he had to ask.

"You're sure about this? I'm not going to do anything even if you don't want to. I don't want you to feel like you have to do this." Arin shushes him, going up to him and pecking him on the lips, chastely.

"I want to do this too, where else am I going to find another ‘penpal’?"

"Right, that's more than fine with me."

"Great, I'll see you next time then!"

The two of them enter the elevator, putting on the regular surgical masks as required by the authorities. Checkout was a swift affair, albeit with some blushing on both their parts—their necks were lined with love bites from each other, of many shapes and sizes. The clerk hems and haws, delicately trying to broach the issue of noise complaints and the very late checkout.

"I apologize, and I'll pay the bill for the extra night, and any penalty fees incurred for either room in full." Daddy Long Leg nips the issue in the bud, and with a polite but red-faced bow the two of them thank the clerk for their discretion.

At the exit, they turn to the other to say good bye, but words fail them, an awkward dance taking place as they shuffle their feet.

"So umm, see you next—" Arin begins.

"Do you want to go on a date?" The words spill out of him, following his heart.

"What?"

"I know you're an idol, but maybe we can do it in secret? We've done everything couples do, probably more than what most couples do, and we even said 'I love you' already," he mutters, and Arin heats up under her mask, both in embarrassment and no small amount of joy.

"Um sure, I would like that."

"Great, I have your number already, I'll text you, maybe sometime next week?" She nods, and as he almost skips away in happiness Arin grabs his wrist, pulling him back.

"Wait! Give me your phone." Puzzled, he obediently hands her his phone.

"My name is Choi Yewon," she says, handing it back to him—where it once said "Mommy Red Cheeks", the contact now read "Choi Yewon". She pushes her phone into his palm.

"What's your name?"

A/N: As you can see, this took forever to piece together, it still references a comeback :P but I made good use of their fanmeeting outfits, that was so hot. It’s almost a cliche now, but I managed to fluff it up at the end heh. The idea of Arin roleplaying as “Arin” was too hot, but it just took a while to flesh everything out, so hope it works out and isn’t too confusing between the Mommy and the Arin. Thanks for reading!

#smut #ohmygirl #arin

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prelovednikaidou · 3 years

Text

corrupt; draken, ken ryuguji [01]

Summary:

In which you met the man of your past, but he didn't come back to remind you of the bitter break-up. Draken had one thing in mind and it was to never let you leave his side ever again. Distance made the heart grow fonder but he'd rather let you spend the rest of your life hating him if it meant you'd never leave his sight.

"I don't wish you well when you ain't with me, I want you crying."

Warning:

mention of suicide, oral receiving (reader),

a/n: taglist are open up to 10 users! comment '☁️'

Word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

[01: jealousy]

Draken wanted to take you away.

The curves of your spine, flowing down to the slope of your well-rounded bottom flesh, he watched the symmetrical dimple right above your butt - mocking him that those precious intimate spots were no longer his possession to own.

It wasn't only him who shared the same thought; everyone in this crowded room had their eyes glued on you. As if you were holding those guests captive, you felt immense pressure on your feet and thighs, quivered before you wrapped your leg around the shining pole.

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

Those blinding lights showered your sweating figure in all fairness, the sound of Abel's voice had long dimmed down, it meant that your show was done. It was silent in a minute,

lifting your face - your lips curled into a hunting smile and the room soared with cheers, crumpled money tossed across the stage, but your sense of content was suppressed by the overwhelming tension.

A pair of black pupils were starring at you - pinning you to where you stood. He was among the crowd, all in his glory without care but you. You felt something burst inside your chest, unable to tear your focus from him.

This longing for him is toxic.

Flashes of memories where those sober eyes bore into yours when he pumped his fat cock into your tight cunt until his thick cum over spilled, the same eyes that once shone with so much love but turned cold.

"Dollface!"

A shout from backstage startled you from your daze, another coworker came up and escorted you down, assisting you to take off the painful high heels.

"What's with you?" She threw a curious stare your way.

You still couldn't wrap your mind. He was there. Flesh and soul, presented in front of you. It was a brief eye contact but it was enough. Enough to tell you that he was coming back for you.

It had been years since the two of you chose to split up, making your paths without each other's companion.

"I, I've got to go. I forgot that I locked the windows, my cat's probably waiting for me. He's been out for 3 days so he's starving I think. Y'all can continue without me,"

You stood but your knees turned weak at the sudden arrival of him, standing by the door. A few steps taken back, you lost all rationality to stay calm because your heart thumped loudly.

Standing tall on his 6' ft, athletic and young Draken was nowhere to be seen but replaced - with a mature adult man that induced everything he carried into lust.

The robust body looked incredibly fit, lean, and you could see the strong outlines of his defined chest and abdominal muscles from the black shirt. If it was years ago, those leather jackets wouldn't suit him - he'd look like those up-start wannabe gangsters.

But it was different now. It clung to his broad shoulders perfectly, he wasn't as cheap as those local pranksters. The dark jeans also did little job in hiding his long legs. He was indeed a member of a gang; eerie and cruel - but he had never look this good that you want to fuck.

Draken's presence was enough to brush away every man in the room that you belonged to him. Your little admirers couldn't even look at him in the eyes, let alone make up a fight.

They left with a strong sense of defeat; no wonder you never once accept any confessions, turned out you have such a man waiting.

"Why is he here? This area is off-limits. Only staff is allowed. Naoki, guide him out." You forced yourself to mutter those words, uncaring to look at him with your back facing him.

Naoki sighed, this man literally slipped $750 under the table just to meet you. Those incompetent flies who claimed to love you didn't even spare this much effort. She only signaled him to step in before she whispered to you,

"Remember the guy I told you? The one that booked a whole session for your private room? He's that guy. It's just that he arrived a little early than the arranged meeting but it'll be great if you can build a connection with him."

You glared back, "Then send him back. We still have a week before that, right? I'm tired. I can't keep up with this," You pushed off her hand from your shoulder, began to take off your wig. His eyes were still the same; always undressing you naked.

Naoki could only grit her teeth, the money already landed in her pocket. What if he asked it back? She can't let such a great deal slip so she greeted him,

"She's a bit tired from the recent show. How about we push this to tomorrow? She's got free time on her hand to rest too." At least, this would do, right?

"If I have so much time on my hands, I wouldn't have come a week early. So you guess it yourself." His voice has changed too. It was an octave lower, you immediately rubbed your thighs together before you waved a hand.

"Haaa... leave us, Naoki. But I need you to go to my house. I wasn't joking about what I said earlier."

Naoki hurriedly nodded, clutching to her pocket before her eyes warily darted from Draken to you. Is this a couple feud? She noted in her head that she'd help this guy soon in the future - who doesn't want easy money?

"Okay, I will. Sir...? Err.. hope you have a pleasant chat with Dollface. I will excuse myself then ." The hindrance in Draken's eyes finally left the room, the door closed in a thump and the subtle tension thickened.

He didn't say anything, only leaned his body by the door as he watched you wiped off your makeup. This was his morning view back when you were still wet behind ears about pole dancing. You'd come back at the crack of drawn and he'd already been out to his workshop.

"Dollface."

Stubborn like a little cat, your doe eyes didn't look up from your make-up bag and he could see through your act to be so busy. He loved how feisty you've become after years. It eased his heart that you could chase off those little shit.

"It suits you, [Y/N]. Face so pretty like a doll. Make one's heart itch to keep around. But I wonder why the name sounds so familiar."

"State your business. I'm heading home straight after this so don't expect a lap dance or something."

"Then that's the plan. I'll drive you home, eh?"

That damn 'eh'. He picked up your habit too well that the time he spent with you shaped him into copying your habit. It sounded cute but your heart still couldn't forgive him. Let him suffer a little.

"Don't need to. My boyfriend is great at doing his job. So do me a favor and let me rest quickly, how about that?"

Now, you were looking at him through the mirror. It was just too hard for you to muster yourself to face him directly. Draken didn't seem shaken. He stood straightly, you clenched your thighs tighter.

"Have I ever been quick in everything when I'm with you, [Y/N]?" His towering figure gawked over your smaller frame - casting his shadow over you as his sharp facial features caught your attention.

"Can't remember. Maybe? Because I said it just now almost like a reflex." You replied, not backing down but instead, squaring up to him that your ample breasts brushed against his torso.

His cologne didn't smell like the tacky, cheap body spray he used to own. This one smelled so expensive, alienated your memory of his familiar scent.

"Now you're getting older, your memory is getting rusty, dollface. Should I put on a play and see if you can call anything in mind?" You felt your breath became heavier but he didn't let you lose your focus yet.

Your chin was tugged upwards, the shadow of his cap cast upon his face and you remembered now; it was his eyes. Because he wasn't vocal about his feelings, you could understand everything from his eyes.

"You've grown softer, Draken. I almost threw up listening to you talk like this. What, are you changing jobs now? Don't tell me you went from a gangster to a con artist."

No, you were lying to yourself. Draken didn't change but improved. Change can be something bad but he never did anything that would bring him down. He just got better.

And it was true when the velvety touch on your beating pulse suddenly moved to your lips before he squished your cheeks in his hand.

"Fucking hot as hell but so damn annoying." He laughed, the light from his eyes never return, only replaced by a wicked glint.

He wanted to take you to his place, fuck you in his bed until you couldn't walk properly so he'd have more reasons to keep you at his place. He wanted to swallow you whole and he barely even started but why was it so damn hard to have you?

"Don't dare to think of anything nasty. You might not care about commitment in a relationship, but I do. So take your hands off me, Draken."

"Kenie. It's Kenie for you."

Your lips were so plump and wet, his other arm wrapped around your waist - hoisting you up to his body before he leaned by the dresser.

You shrieked when his scalding hot palm touched your naked back and as he untied the strings of your bra, he smiled at your face as he said,

"Do you think I'm going to believe that, dollface? Do you really think I don't know that this pussy hasn't been fucked well for months? I have eyes across this ward. You don't get to fool me."

Heat rose to your face, your small hands pushed on his shoulders, "You're still up in my business? Sounds like someone can't fucking move on."

He nodded, ripping off your lacey bralette and his big hands began to palm your heavy breast - carelessly rubbing your nipple with his thumb. You fought the urge to moan, you hold onto his shoulder for dear strength.

"You're right. I can't move on." Your breath hitched, he nuzzled his face to the column of your neck, inhaling so deep, and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. He missed you so much. So much that if you ran away again, he'd just kill himself.

"I fucked my fist thinking of you. I got this hard just by thinking of you. I'm not ashamed of it."

"That's your problem, Draken. I'm not you. I'm living my best life right now, and sorry that I can still cum just with my fingers."

"That's my girl," He pushed you until your back met the concrete wall, your eyes widened when he took off his cap and put it on you before he dropped to his knees.

"I am aware of your appetite, [Y/N]. You won't be happy with such a small meal. You always keep coming back to have your tight pussy stuffed. Even when we were living together, you couldn't stop begging my dick every night."

"What the hell are you talking about-" You pushed his forehead away from your private part, one hand covering your pussy but he gripped the side of your hips - bringing you straight to his mouth.

"I don't care if you use me as your favorite Cherry Twins. But don't deny that I made you cummed the hardest when I was in your life, dollface."

Your eyes became misty, his words just flew through your head - empty when his mouth latched on your clothed crotch, lapping on the small fabric that the nudge of his tongue probed on your budding clit.

Cherry Twins were the name he gave to your vibrators. Since he was always out when you were at home, he'd make you use them to your greedy cunt - even made a video call so he could jerk off in the public restroom.

You were wild, but he taught you to live even wilder.

Next page: chapter [02] →

a/n : next chapter is full smut bcs thats the only thing my brain's capable of. Taglist are open up to 10 users! Comment '☁️’.

Taglist: @hanmascult @q-the-rockaholic @hikkarins

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyorevengers x reader #tokyorev smut #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #draken x you #draken x y/n #draken x reader #draken smut #draken #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji smut #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #nik; [series] ☁️#nik; [corrupt]

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 years

Text

not jealous | jake sim

summary: jake sim is not a jealous person. at least that's what he tells himself. so why does he find himself going through your phone when a certain "bluejay park" decides to text you?

pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. mentions of jay park]

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: angst, cursing (very minimal), one slightly suggestive sentence, jake being cute, some more angst lol, slightly cheesy bc jake’s just too cute ugh

wc: 3.8k

a/n: ok i loved writing this, which is why i went on to almost 4k words LOL oops. but anyways, i love jake a little too much and this type of scenario has been running around in my head for a while now so i decided to put it into words. also i may have created this blog just so i could post this somewhere LMAO anyways yeah this was my first fic so hope you guys enjoyyyy <3

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

At least that's what he tells himself. To be fair, in his past relationships, he never showed any jealously. Then again, he doesn't know if he can call those relationships, "relationships". Does a fifth grade relationship with a girl who he was once dared to kiss during a game of Truth or Dare in the basement of a classmate's house during their 11th birthday party count? He doesn't remember being jealous when the same girl was later dared to kiss his classmate, Sunghoon. (Funny enough, that's how the two boys came to be best friends 'til this day, but that's a story for another time.)

But really, Jake doesn't think jealously is one of his traits, even if he's now almost 20 years old without any experience with love other than his current relationship with you and that short-lived romance in the fifth grade. (What was her name again? Jake would have to ask Sunghoon later.)

So he doesn't know what clicked in that brain of his that lead him to this current situation he was in. He doesn't know why he felt a little spark of anger in him when your phone, which you left right next to him on the couch while you went to take a shower, kept buzzing with texts from "bluejay park". He doesn't know why he couldn't kept his eyes distracted from the messages, although your phone was constantly lighting up because whatever it was Jay had to say to you, he would not shut up about it. He doesn't know why he questioned what your relationship with Jay was for a split second.

In fact, you're close with all of Jake's friends. That's one of his favorite things about you, you get along so well with all his friends you might as well replace Jake himself in the friend group. So he doesn't know what tells him to take a little glance at your phone—at the messages.

But he finds himself doing it anyways.

Hearing that the water in the shower was still running (you were always the type to take long showers), he quickly grabs your phone and scrolls through the lock screen just to find that he couldn't even read the messages since you had your notifications set so no one could read them unless the phone was unlocked (darn you and your settings!) Thankfully, Jake knew your passcode––and you knew his too––or he thought he did. Until the iPhone vibrated, telling him the passcode was wrong.

He must've entered it too fast or something. So he tries again.

And again.

Until the iPhone switches its screen to say: "iPhone is disabled. Try again in 5 minutes."

There's no way. You never change your password. And even if you did, you would tell him—you two even had each other's fingerprints saved into each other's phones in the past (you know, before the world decided that Apple's home button was too lame and decided to just completely get rid of it). If there was an option to save multiple faces for Face ID, you two would be that couple that saved each others faces in your own phones.

That being said, Jake sat there, your phone in hand, frozen. Why was your phone locked? Why was Jay texting you 10 texts per second? Why did he feel guilty about this entire situation?

He hears the shower switch off and in that moment, he swears he feels his heart beat just a little faster. He tells himself there's no way you'll be out before the 5 minutes are up. You followed a really meticulous skincare routine (one that Jake memorized by now) that took an extra 15 minutes of your time after each shower.

"Hey Jake?" Your voice calls out from the tiny bathroom door crack that you left open before you hopped in the shower, "Is my phone out there? Do you mind bringing it to me?"

Fuck.

Jake shifts on the couch. Taps his foot on the ground. Returns your phone to its original spot. Clears his throat.

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" he calls back, quite timidly.

He can hear you stop moving around in the bathroom. Probably telling yourself what an odd response that was. To be fair, it was an odd question, considering the fact that you two have been together for so long, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you undressed before...intentionally or not.

Next thing he knows, the steam is rolling out of the bathroom door and you're stepping out in your towel, eyebrows raised.

"If you didn't want to get up from the couch, you could've just said so, you lazy butt," you smirk at him as you walk towards him and the couch, leaving a faint trail of water drops behind you. Jake's eyes follow your figure as you go to grab your phone and lift the screen towards yourself.

That's when he freezes. You do too.

You cock your head, as if asking yourself why it was disabled. He can hear the gears in your head turning.

"Jake, did you try to unlock my phone?"

He runs through all the possible excuses he could blurt out. Come on Jake, think of something! But he knows he can't lie to you.

Too many beats of silence pass by.

"Maybe," he finally says—or more like murmurs. He looks up to you like a child looking up at their mom, who just them caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. To his surprise, you don't show any hint of anger. A flash of confusion—and is that worry he sees?—crosses your face for a split second before you shrug and turn towards your room to change, dropping the subject. It was natural for you two to use each other's phones anyways. So then why did you have that look of worry?

Jake knows you well, a little too well. But that's what you love about him. He can easily read all your emotions. One of the many things he picked up from dating you for almost two years now. But why would you care if he tried to get into your phone? Why would that worry you? All the possibilities run through head and his own worry begins to increase. He trusts you. He does.

So then why does the thought bother him throughout the entire day? Why does he bring it up during dinner later that night, when you're both cuddled on your sofa, slurping take-out ramen while rewatching your favorite k-drama under the thick blanket that you always keep in your living room for nights like these?

"Huh? Of course I've heard from Jay today, we had that conversation about that stupid meme you boys kept laughing about in the groupchat we're all in, didn't we?" You answer him when he asks if you've heard from Jay lately. You sit up from your warm spot under Jake's arm to put your empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back, you look up at him,

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just wondering," he says, avoiding your eyes by keeping his own trained on the series currently playing on your TV. This would be your third time rewatching this series together. He would never complain to you though, he knows how much you love it and if he were being honest, he was secretly attached to the characters—not that he would ever tell you, he would never hear the end of it from you and the boys.

"You're being weird. Just tell me, or did you forget that I can practically read your mind," you say with a giggle and shove to his side, the one you were currently warmly cuddled into. Jake wasn't the only one who learned how to read emotions; you could read him just as well as he could read you. And like you, that's one of the many things he loved about you. But maybe not in this case.

He toyed around with the contents inside his ramen bowl with his chopsticks.

"I just..." God, how does he word this? Why was he having trouble explaining it? You were the easiest person to talk to. To him, you were the only person he could tell everything to.

"Jaywastextingyouabunchearlier," he blurts out quickly, but not quickly enough for you to miss it.

He feels you shift under his arm. He feels the air in the room shift. Tension.

"What?" Now you're sitting upright, legs criss-crossed in front of you on the couch but turned, so your body is completely facing him. He mirrors you, sitting up to put his ramen bowl next to yours on the surface, but he stays facing the TV.

"Your phone kept going off because of him when you were showering," he says with a little more confidence. But inside, he was nervous as hell, the same nervous as when he asked you out for the first time many moons ago. But it's too late to back out now, he brought it up first, anyways. Guess we're having this conversation now, good going Jake!

"Is that why you tried unlocking my phone earlier? I mean I thought you were just trying to leave selfies on my phone like you always do but you were trying to read my texts?" You question, slightly raising your soft voice. He doesn't know how to react, he hates confrontation.

"It wasn't like that, Jay just kept spamming you and like I—why was he even texting you in the first place? Then your phone got disabled because you changed your password, which you never do by the way, so I–"

"I changed it because my little sister kept getting into my phone when I went to visit my family yesterday! Did you really think I was hiding something from you? You know I can text whoever I want, right? You don't own me."

Okay so now he's managed to make you angry. Good going Jake, part 2!

"Okay but what does Jay need from you so bad that he has to send you like 50 messages at once?" He's standing now. So are you, eyebrows furrowed together as you collect your bowls from the table.

Standing there, bowls in hand, you say, "Jake, that's none of your business! It wasn't even that big of a deal, I don't know why you felt the need to nosy around."

"Well, if he's texting you non-stop, then obviously it's a big deal! We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you would just tell me what you guys were talking about," he murmurs back, eyes narrowing. You scoff as you trail into your kitchen. He follows behind and stops at the other side at your kitchen island as you place the dirty dishes into the sink.

"No, we're having this conversation because you obviously don't trust me! It doesn't matter what we were talking about, it doesn't matter who I was texting! I could be texting your mother and I shouldn't have to tell you what we were talking about! That's why we're having this conversation," you say as you turn back to face him from the other end.

He hates this. He hates fighting with you (which is a very, very rare occasion). He hates that you think he doesn't trust you. He hates his insecurity eating at him, telling him to keep questioning you on why you and Jay were talking in the first place. He was aware that you were close with his friends, but it wasn't until the texts he realized just how close you are with them. It's not that he didn't trust you, he just didn't know how to act when it came to you and other guys. God knows how he got lucky enough to meet you, let alone date you, so the thought of him losing you to someone else actually terrified him. Not only were you his first real relationship, but he wanted you to be his first and only one in life. You were it for him.

"Why did he text you." He deadpans from his side of the kitchen.

You scoff with a hint of exasperation. "You're kidding me."

You stare at him. He stares back, quirking an eyebrow, as if restating the same question back, as if testing you.

You're fuming now. Why was he making it so hard? Why was he doubting you? Out of frustration, you start laughing, which scares him. That can't be good.

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Take a look," you're one tone level away from screaming as you take your phone out of your pocket, unlock it, and open up your conversation with "bluejay park", sliding the phone across the island to reach him.

Jake stares at the phone which now lies there, unlocked, facing him. Isn't this what he wanted? It is, right? That's why he started this dreaded argument with you in the first place.

Then why does he feel so fucking awful?

He looks back up at you, to see you sighing and looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to force your forming tears back into your eyes.

Yup, he feels horrible.

"Happy? Happy to know we were just trying to plan a surprise birthday party for you but you and your jealously just had to know huh, Jake?" You quickly state, voice cracking, as you tried not to choke up. You weren't sad that he found out about the surprise. You were sad that it felt like he didn't trust you. That he thought you were the type of person to do god knows what behind his back. You hated the feeling of not being trusted. Especially by Jake, of all people.

"Fuck."

Jake's face (and heart) falls with the most broken expression you've ever seen. But you're too sad, angry, tired (a mix of all?) to care. Your only goal right now is to not let him see you cry.

You hurry past him, across your apartment, and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, leaving behind a shocked, and regretful, Jake.

His heart shrinks when he hears the door slam shut and a little more when he looks down at the still unlocked phone in front of him. He didn't have the heart in him to look at it anymore. Of course he trusted you, he knew what you said was the truth.

He mentally screams at himself for assuming the worst––for thinking that you, a literal angel, would betray him. First, he thought he was losing you to someone else. Now, he was afraid he just lost you through his own actions.

He hesitantly sulks over to your door, softly knocking when he reaches it.

"Y/N?"

No response.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I let my—”

"Jake just please leave me alone for now," he hears you painfully say from a distance, meaning you're on your bed. He knows the door's unlocked—the lock on your door hasn't been working for a long time now, despite the many times he tells you to talk to your landlord about it. But he doesn't find it in him to open it. He knows he messed up. If he saw you in there right now, crying, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know what he would to do himself, knowing he was the reason behind your tears.

He nods in silence, knowing you can't see him, but does so anyways and returns to his spot on the couch. He could leave right now, go back to the dorm with the rest of the guys, let you have your space like you wanted. But his heart hurts at the idea of leaving you sad, angry, or a combination of both. He can't leave this unresolved. He fucked up, he has to fix it.

And so he sits on your couch for another hour. The clock on the wall behind him continues to tick as the silent tension in your apartment continues to grow. When it hits 11pm and he's sure you've slumbered off into sleep, he quietly enters your room.

He can see your figure in the dark, your back facing the door as you're curled up into yourself under the comforter. He feels his heart drop a little more when he imagines you crying in that position from earlier. He slowly peels the comforter open and gets into his side of the bed, careful not to bother your sleeping figure.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, he's never felt more like a stranger in your bed. It's not that he hasn't slept over before, god knows he's probably slept over at your place more than he has in his own bed. But right now, in this moment, he just felt awful. Like he didn't deserve to be in such close proximity to you. How could he be deserving? He violated your privacy, made you feel like you weren't trusted, doubted your relationship.

These thoughts run through Jake's head as he stares up at your ceiling fan, wishing he could turn back time to a few hours ago, before he checked your phone, before he let his insecurities get to the best of him.

You can feel the dip he makes in the bed behind you when he gets in. Of course you're not asleep. There's no way sleep could reach you when you had the recent events constantly replaying in your head like a broken record.

You knew Jake with all your heart. You didn't have to look at him to know he was probably laying there, hurt, staring up at the ceiling, drafting what to say once you wake up—or once he knows you're actually still awake.

You decide to break the tension by turning to lay on your other side, facing him.

You were wrong. Thanks to the little sliver of moonlight shining through your sheer curtains, you can see him, now laying on his side, already looking at you with so much regret in his eyes. You can almost hear the cracks in your heart physically forming.

His eyes widen when he realizes you're still awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but not before you quickly shift over to his side of the bed and embrace him in a tight hold, burying your face into his chest. Without any hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms holding your body as close to him as possible. As if once he let go, he'd lose you forever.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he breathes you in. He didn't even know he was holding his breath all this time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Y/N," he mutters into your hair. He feels his hoodie getting wet from where you buried your face. He pulls you closer, if that's even possible, feeling his own eyes heating up with sadness. He would never forgive himself for making you feel this way.

"You know I trust you right? Please know that. I shouldn't have assumed the worst when I saw your phone. I...I let my insecurities get to the best of me."

You move your head from its home on his chest to look up at him, as if asking him to elaborate. This was new to you, you didn't know he held insecurities in your relationship. But it wasn't because of you, no, you were his entire world. Losing you meant losing everything.

Jake's never been the best at saying his feelings. That's why it took him so long (with the help of his six best friends) to finally confess how he felt about you. He was afraid of letting people in if they could easily walk out. Maybe that's why he never let anyone into his life before you. But oh, were you an exception. The second he met you, he knew he was fucked. But thank god he did, because thanks to you, he's been able to be more open, more vulnerable. He's able to talk to you about anything and everything. He doesn't have that same fear of losing people anymore, not when he has you in his life to reassure him every step of the way. But right now, in this moment, he doesn't know how to tell you that his new fear was, in fact, just losing you.

The sheer idea of you not being a part of his life anymore terrified him.

"I hope you know you're never going to lose me Jake, if that's what you're insecure about," you softly mutter as you wrap your free arm that's not stuck in between both your bodies around him to gently play with the ends of his hair. It's as if you could read his mind, he loves that you know him so well.

"It just sucks that you could even think I would ever do something as awful as what you were assuming...with one of your closest friends nonetheless," you continue.

"I know. I know, and I feel terrible. I'm so sorry. I know you would never do anything remotely close to that, and I know you would never intentionally try to keep anything from me," he sighs. He shifts so he can lie down on his back, bringing you with him to lie on his chest, never letting you go once. "It's just...I just don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Y/N. Everyday, I ask myself what heroic thing I must've done in my past life to deserve this life with you and I can't help but think you could just as easily be stripped away from me."

As much as your heart breaks listening to him rant, you feel your love for him grow even more. You knew how hard it was for him to put his true emotions into words, and him telling you this reminded you how much trust he had in you.

After some moments of silence, moments of him drawing random shapes onto your back, moments of you two just holding each other like it was the end of the world, you speak up.

"I love you. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself—"

"No, it's not your fault, I can't help but think things like that. I just don't know what I did to deserve you, and I know that I need to be mo–"

"Babe let me finish," you say with a little giggle in your tone. He immediately stops and mutters a little "sorry". How cute, you tell yourself.

"I was gonna say," you look back up at him so you're making direct eye contact now. "You're the only one that's ever on my mind, Jake. I can't help the way you think, but I can assure you that there is no one else I would rather be with. And I mean that for the rest of life."

You snuggle back into the comfortable hoodie he's currently wearing (you make a mental note to yourself to steal it from him later) and decide to ease the tension,

"So you're stuck with me for life, sorry to inform you Mr. Sim."

Jake lets out a laugh, looking down at you to see you returning his smile with a cheeky one.

"I love you. So much," he says so sincerely, so genuinely, that you almost tear up again from how content you were. Now you were asking yourself, what did you do to deserve him?

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

No, he just loves you.

A lot.

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Crashing Waves (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry to @waiting4inspiration's 9K Multiple of 3 Challenge 🌺 Congrats again, love!

Prompt 16: Something red / High heels / A quiet place

@geekandbooknerd - thank you, darling, you're a wonderful beta 💖

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Bringing Ivar back to the place - Ragnar's hunting cabin - of his greatest failure seems pretty bold. Yet you are sure of your plan. It will work. And you will prove him wrong.

Warnings: smut; use of a cock ring; mention of Ivar's insecurities; no real plot.

Words: 2881

Sitting on the bed, Ivar swallows loudly, digging fingernails into his palms. "Why did you bring me here, Y/N? What are we doing here?" You watch the muscles in his jaw clenching and flexing as he grinds his teeth. You know he's trying very hard to control his anger.

Taking two steps towards him, you cup his face, "This is a quiet place," lean forward and your mouth grazes his cheek and then his earlobe. "You know how much I love quiet places."

"You love quiet places? Are you fucking kidding me??" Seething with anger, he gives you dagger eyes. "Of all the possible places, you really had to choose this one? This fucking cabin? You fucking know this is not just any quiet place."

Kneeling down in front of him – a task nearly impossible with your six-inch stilettos – you place your hands on the bed, on either side of his hips. Reaching up, your thumb strokes his cheekbone, your face peering up at him. "I know, my love."

Of course, you do.

You know exactly what Ragnar's hunting cabin means to your lover. You know what happened here – or rather what didn't. You know about his failure. You know everything because one night he told you, between sobs, and after way too much Akvavit. And that's exactly why you're here tonight.

"Why, then?" His knuckles white, he asks through clenched teeth, averting his gaze.

"Because," things are clear to you, so you don't hesitate, "it's time to start making some new memories, my love." Your right hand grabs his left and you intertwine his fingers with yours. "And because it's time I prove you wrong."

Ivar ducks his head down, unable to look you in the eye. His voice barely a whisper, you realize he is shaking. "I… You know I…", he releases a shuddering breath, his gaze finding yours, "I can't…"

The sharpness in his voice is gone, replaced by… despair… And the way he looks at you… Gods… His wide eyes are filled with fear, confusion and… tears? It's almost enough to persuade you to back off.

But no. You won't.

"I don't know that, my love. I only know what you told me." Carefully placing your hands on his thighs, you tilt your head to the side. There are a thousand questions in his eyes and he seems hurt, and self-conscious. Oh no, you won't allow him to go down this path. "Listen to me. I was not lying, Ivar – I never lied to you – with your dexterous fingers and your skilled tongue, you can pleasure a woman. You pleasure me each and every time, never doubt that. But I want more. For you more than for me."

"But… what…" He wraps his fingers around your right hand, squeezing it so tight it hurts, but you don't complain, not when you can almost feel the panic coursing through his veins, so you just keep looking at him, with a smile on your lips and love in your eyes. "What if it doesn't work? What if… I can't get it up long enough like… like with… with Margrethe…"

"Oh Ivar, stop dwelling on this old story, will you? You were so young, my love, still a boy. And she was just a girl. A girl you didn't have feelings for. A girl who didn't love you." Gently grabbing his chin, you bring his mouth to yours for a soft, light kiss. "I am in love with you, Ivar. And I know you're in love with me. That, my love, makes a huge difference. Plus, you're no longer a boy… And, as for myself, tell me the truth, my love… " You stand up and then slowly take off your long, black trench coat. "Do I look like a girl?"

The second Ivar sees what's under the coat, his mouth falls open. Gaping and gawking, he's literally gobsmacked. If you're being honest, that's what you were aiming for when you chose that red dress. Red is his favorite color and well, the dress fits like a glove and shows off every curve you've got. As he stares at you, his eyes wide open, you're pleasantly surprised to see more lust than fear, or worry, or anger in his gaze.

"So, do I look like a girl?" You ask once again, flashing him a cheeky smile while making your way between his thighs. Your hand grazes his crotch, but Ivar doesn't seem to notice, too entranced – mesmerized – by the sight in front of him.

"No," Ivar shakes his head and clears his throat but his voice is still hoarse when he speaks again, "No, you look like a fucking goddess."

"Then, you should help your goddess with the zipper." You pull away just enough to turn around and the next moment Ivar's hands are on you, roaming over your waist and back. He slowly unzips your dress, then slides his hands over your shoulders and down your arms to remove it. "Fuck!" Ivar gasps as your dress falls to the floor, and you can hear him swallowing. "You're… you're naked."

"That I am." You turn your head just in time to see him licking his lips. His nostrils are flaring, his pupils are dilated, and the bulge in his pant is unmistakable. Good.

"Take off your clothes and then scoot over and lie down." You order, stepping out of your dress but keeping your stilettos on. Ivar barely nods, but starts unbuttoning his shirt.

Crossing the room completely naked, you can feel his intense gaze on you and as you bend down to pick up your purse, your butt on display, he makes a sound, a cross between a whimper and a groan. "Gods, woman!" He whines when you slowly come back, swaying your hips, your hand grazing his feet before putting your purse right next to him and dimming the lights.

Ivar, a white sheet covering his lower body, watches your every move, and even if his arousal is obvious, you can tell he's still scared, or at the very least, a little wary.

Kicking your shoes off, you climb onto the bed and straddle him. Careful not to put your full weight on him, you lean forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Y/N, what are you planning to do?" His strained voice betrays his sudden anxiety.

Smiling, you brush his cheek. "Do you trust me, Ivar?"

"It's not about trust but about what I can or–" He starts but you stop him, a finger on his mouth. You then flatten your palms on his chest and soon your hands are venturing down. You explore the lines of his torso, tracing left and right across the ridges in his abdomen. Gods, you love his body! When your fingers come across the thin trail of hair leading lower, you tilt your head, your hand slipping under the sheet. Ivar's breath hitches in his throat as your hand meets his now half-hard cock.

"Answer me, Ivar, do you trust me?"

"Yes." Ivar breathes out his answer and, reaching out, he runs his hands up your ribs to your breasts. "You know I do." He doesn't have to say it for you to know he's referring to his legs. You know them; you're allowed to see and touch them and you know how big a deal it is to him. He does trust you.

"Then trust me, one more time, please. Trust me on this."

As you draw a finger up to the head of his cock and back down the underside, tracing a line around his balls, Ivar lets out a hiss, followed by a groan when you wrap your hand around him.

All of a sudden, he grabs your wrist, preventing you to move. "You know I can't…"

"Love, you're hard." Since you can't really move your hand, you squeeze your fingers around him to prove your point. You're rewarded by a deep, involuntary, grunt, but the next thing you know, Ivar is swaying his head from side to side. "It won't… last… long enough…" His words are barely audible; you know the admission kills him. And you know he's convinced that it is an unavoidable truth. Because that's exactly what happened with Margrethe.

"It will, my love. Have faith in yourself. And if you can't do that, then have faith in me."

Slowly, using your free hand, you unwrap his fingers from your wrist, your eyes never leaving his. Once he releases his grip, you give him a wicked smile and then scoot back farther while pulling down the sheet. Pushing his legs apart with care, you settle between them, reaching for his cock.

And then, you swallow him down and start to suck. Ivar gasps and pants, hissing breaths through his teeth. You know he never experienced anything like this. No one has never done that for him, and there's a sense of pride blooming in your chest knowing you're the one offering him so much pleasure.

Peeking up, you see your lover, propped up on his elbows, who looks at you as you really were a goddess. He's getting harder and harder, squirming underneath you. Pulling back reluctantly, you give him a sultry look, not missing how confused and… disappointed he looks.

"What… Why? I … Oh fuck… I think… Y/N… I… I was…" He stutters, struggling to gather his thoughts. You have to remind yourself of his reality. Your lover never had an orgasm.

"You were close, yes, I know, Ivar. And I promise you're going to come. But I want you to come inside me, my love."

Ivar swallows. "But…" Eyes darting all over the place, you know he's once again overcome with self-doubt.

"There's no buts, love." You cut him off, reaching out and then scrabbling around in your purse. When you find what you were looking for, you hold it triumphantly in front of you. "There's no buts because of this."

Ivar frowns, confused. "What's that?"

"A cock ring, my love. And well," you add, grabbing a small tube, "some lube too."

"A what?" Bewildered, Ivar sits up in the bed, but you push gently on his chest.

You did some research. The cock ring will help him maintain his erection. Not that he physically needs it – you're sure he doesn't – but emotionally, it's a different story. But since you don't want him to have time to rethink what you're about to do – and because you wouldn't want to waste such an impressive erection – you're not going to give him a lecture on cock rings right now.

"I'll explain later, love. It won't harm you; I promise. Trust me with this, Ivar, please."

When he nods – shyly, tentatively and almost sheepishly – you don't waste any more time and pour a small amount of lube into your hand. He gasps as soon as you wrap a slick hand around his still hard cock. Setting the lube aside, you slide the ring down his cock.

"Does it hurt?" Looking closely at his face for any sign of discomfort, you slowly run your hands up his thighs, and as he shakes his head no, you straddle him once more without ever breaking eye contact.

Ivar can barely breathe and doesn't even dare to blink. He can't believe it. Fuck, he can't. This is happening. This is fucking happening. He's rock-hard, harder than he has ever been and he feels like his pounding heart is going to burst.

Earlier, the warmth of your wet mouth on his dick felt insanely good. Your lips wrapped around him, your hand holding him, your eyes filled with an equal amount of lust and love… It has been almost too much, and heavenly as the same time. He would have wanted it to never end and had resented you for a moment when you had released his cock. But it doesn't matter, not anymore, not when you're just about–

"Aaaaaaaaah!" He closes his eyes, the new sensation incredible, otherworldly, overwhelming. He's dying. Or maybe he's already dead. He can't grasp what's happening, or what he's feeling. It's magic, like nothing he's ever felt before. His head is spinning and tears are welling up in his eyes. This… This must be Valhalla; it can't be anything else. Gods…

And then a distant voice brings him back to the here and now. "Ivar, look at me, my love." It takes him several seconds to understand that it is your voice, and that he's the one you're talking to.

Slowly, very slowly and almost reluctantly, because a part of him believes that what he's experiencing is nothing but a dream, he finally opens his eyes. What a glorious sight! You, the woman he loves, are sitting atop him, looking down at him as if he were the eighth wonder of the world. And you're… he's… fuck.

"I'm… Ah… Y/N… I'm…" He can't even form a coherent sentence but it doesn't matter, because you're so beautiful, because your face is radiant with love, because you definitely are a goddess. And because you know what he's trying to say.

"Yes, my love, you're inside me. And you're hard, and you're not hurting me. It feels so good, Ivar. You feel so good… Your home, my love…" Bending forward and weaving your fingers through his hair, you kiss him as you begin to move. He's at loss for what to do, and it doesn't matter, and there's fireworks in his heart, and you're fucking right, he's home. You're his home. His.

His hands on your thighs, he looks at you and you're so fucking beautiful it takes his breath away. And the feeling of you, wet and throbbing around his cock, is the most amazing thing he's ever felt.

Sitting upright, your back arches as you widen your legs. Your heat engulfing him, he stares at you, bewitched. You're riding him, hard, gasping, moaning, praising, your skin glistening with sweat.

Fuck.

The powerful thrusts of your hips coax his body to a place he's never been before. The sounds of your lovemaking are filling the room… The suction when he slides out of you; the slap of his balls against you when he goes deep. Your grunts. Your pantings. His breaths.

"Oh fuck… it's… oh gods..." You begin to move faster and he keeps his eyes on you. You don't shy away from his scrutiny, holding eye contact as you bounce on him. His hands now cup your ass cheeks, pulling you against him, and then they find your hips, guiding you. He's going to make you come, like a man. Like a whole man. He's going to make you come because he's inside you. The thought is exhilarating, intoxicating.

"Ivar, I'm close!" The way your eyes are half-lidded and lust drunk as you breathe out his name is the most erotic thing he's ever seen. When you begin to lose your rhythm, your moans morph to keening cries and finally you shout and he gasps and you cry out his name as you clamp around him, throwing your head back. The rush of your heat surrounding his cock is overpowering, prodigious, and he thinks he may be losing his mind.

Struggling to catch your breath and still trembling, you kiss him deeply, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He groans when you lift off him but your hand finds his cheek, caressing it. "I want you to come, and you won't come with the cock ring around your cock, love." Your skilled fingers hastily removing it, you toss the ring on the floor and then you straddle him once again, sliding down his cock.

The tingling deep in his balls is nearly immediate and he's sure he's never felt this good. He kisses you like he's starving, and in some ways he's. His hands slide over your breasts, your hips rocking, and you're so fucking beautiful he can't believe his eyes. "I love you so much…" He manages to croak in a shallow breath.

And suddenly everything explodes and he loses track of where you end and he begins, and if you answer he doesn't hear it. His ears ring and his hips thrust up against yours and his whole-body shudders violently, once; twice; more. And then his eyes flutter shut as he comes, wave after wave after wave, until he feels disoriented and light-headed, his hot, thick seed flooding your pussy, and it's so powerful it's like a fucking earthquake.

When his whole body goes limp, he lets out a soft whimper as you rest your head on his chest only to reach up and toy with his hair.

When you look up at him, he's sure the whirlwind of his emotions is obvious on his face, but he doesn't care, just like he doesn't care about his tear-filled eyes, or his crooked legs. Truth be told, for the first time in his life, he doesn't give a damn about his legs. For the first time in his life, he feels whole and worthy. For the first time in his life, he feels like the happiest man on Earth.

And that could well be the greatest gift you, Y/N, the goddess of replaced memories, could ever give him.

He loves you.

🛡⚔️🛡

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