Sex Toys - Tumblr Posts
False spikes and valves that actually overload. For those who like to satisfy their partner to properly get off. Don't listen to me. Also, once again, vibrating false valves.
Cybertronian sex toys must go crazy
False spikes that expand every time a bot overloads making it impossible for them to clench around it properly and leaving them absolutely gaping by the end
Fake panels designed to vibrate and stop keeping the wearer constantly edged through out the day
Magnets that connect to each node inside a valve, stimulating them individually and in different ways and rhythms
Ballbearings that have been magnetised in different ways so they’re constantly shifting inside a valve
A matching set of a false spike and valve that can be connected to specific bot spike or valve so partners can interface not matter the distance
Vibrators that are made specifically for a bots spike sheath that keep the spike from extending as well as keeping unbearably it stimulated
I swear, this started as a joke in a couple of sentences. And then I got sucked into it. Behold! Starscream is enjoying his Dark Energon dildo.
Stabbing himself in the spark chamber with a Dark Energon crystal was a bad idea. Thank Primus, Starscream is smart. And, for better or worse, his body has components that can accept an intrusion benevolently. Well, if he persuades it patiently enough. And if there's no Megatron in any close proximity, of course.
He's working on it, holding a long, slender crystal in his slightly trembling hand. One of the ends of the crystal is pointy but not sharp, so it won't injure him if he keeps it slow and adds more viscous medical-grade lubricant before the main act. He's circling his valve opening with this pointy end, the pressure on his sensor lining rigid but light, more on the verge of teasing. Like he's using one of these fancy delux toys that they used to sell in special shops back then on Cybertron, long ago. Like he's just luxuriously self-servicing on his time off and not injecting himself with an understudied diabolical drug just because their fucked-in-the-buckethead leader gained a new power, so Starscream has to do something to be a step ahead. At least he already has enough processor power to consult with Knock Out about how to put the damn thing inside without damaging his systems.
When the crystal catches on his nodes with a little harder Starscream all but tenses up, his valve channel blocking itself from any potential encroachment. Ah, shit. It takes him several slow circles around the most sensitive node for his motors to stop seizing up. A squeeze of his neglected spike also helps his systems relax and tune in. His interface protocols are booting one by one. If only he wasn't so sick of this planet, the war, the vechicons, the organization, the ranks, Megatron...
The energon icicle is entering him slowly, rocking slightly in his grip. At first, he's guiding it straight into his valve channel. It slides in, making the inner rings open to accommodate the girth. He pauses with his eyes shut, venting out little whimpers both from his engine and his voice box, the latter generating a pathetically high-pitched sound. After a while, the heat of his equipment will start slowly melting the energon. And even a few drops of this vicious matter can be enough.
With his spark spinning in its casing, he changes the angle. The crystal hitting nodes on the upper wall of his valve makes him gasp. It's firm, inflexible. And, more importantly, it's moving only the way Starscream wants it. A little deeper. A bit quicker. On that spot again, making him pull his legs to his torso and his wings tremble against the berthsheet. He's getting in taste, his nodes burning brighter with the charge building. No more Knock Out's lube needed, he's getting wet with what his own body is producing, and also...
It hits him like a lightning bolt. Powerful, merciless, and poisonous. A call from the darkest corner of the universe. But, being introduced into him this way, it has an unexpected effect, almost short-circuiting his processor and mind with pure and sickening want. He's squirming, rocking with his whole frame, almost rolling over. Fucking his squelching cunt with Unicron's fierce spike. The filthiest words are popping out of his thesaurus, the most outrageous concepts. Unicron will nut Dark Energon into his dormant womb, breed Starscream with power, make him an equal, an omnious, screaming, destructive, squirting entity.
He arches up, almost doubling in half, stabbing himself between his shaking legs with the melting crystal. And the moment his valve forces out a stream of lubricant and energon with an almost-bursting pressure, his body is aflame.
Now every eye shall see the might of him. The world will know.
My anti-consumerism pretty much subdued my very lust for material possessions, and now it's funny how I ended up being into a franchise that's started as a big ass toy commercial and keeps it on. God, I love stories, but I can't imagine what story they could tell me to make me buy toys or figurines.
Though I'm not unbreakable, I'm not without sin. If they stop beating around the bush, if they collab with Tenga or anything, and make fucking adult toys, I swear I'll give up my payday and find a way to order a damn robot cunt to my god-forsaken corner of the planet. (If it's fat and has a fancy and detailed exterior, of course. And if there are lights.)
It could be one of Brainstorm's groundbreaker. A device that provides some stimulation and also no stimulation at the same time. That never makes one cum no matter how hard and fast they use it, keeping them on the verge of overload forever and also not letting their charge drop. INFINITE STIMULATION. SEXUAL SUPERPOSITION. Then Perceptor plainly suggests that it's called "edging". The room goes silent. (Everyone should stop underestimating nerds.) (Drift and Rodimus enjoy the device anyway.)
The idea of accidental overload denial is consuming my brain rn. Valve sensors not being able to interpret certain materials so its just endless edging... I need to inflict this on Roddy and Drift somehow. I'm certain that both of them would put something spiked shaped in their valves that they shouldn't have and the result is only, ahem, ~satisfying~ to an outside observer watching their sexy suffering
Not so Honest (M)
Jungkook has got a pretty big problem, and he desperately asks you for your help.

cr.
Word Count: 9.3k
Genre: Smut, comedy, some fluff, orgasm denial, Sub!Kook but also Dom!Kook (let me live)
A/N: I am sorry for being a hoe + thank you for the help @jiminniemouse + @seoulscapes you guys accept my hoe ass & also I just want to note that I don’t know a thing about sex toys okay but that thing is REAL LOOK IT UP I WAS YELLING (I just don’t know about the latch, that was fictional on my part)
Keep reading
Hey everyone. With this horrible Etsy news, a lot of dildo makers are going to be losing business because even if they already have a separate website, I know most of their sales are through Etsy since that is the easiest way for new customers to find them.
Therefore, we need to do our part to promote the websites of these businesses.
Please reblog this and share your favorite dildo maker’s website.
Mine is Neotori. I’ve ordered several from them and they’re extremely high quality. They have a wide selection to choose from. Also despite being in Europe while I’m in the USA, shipping has always been quite fast. They also have seemed to be very easy to work with when there are problems. I first purchased from them through Etsy but I’ve made many purchases through their own website and it has always gone smoothly.
Another shop I like is Strange Bed Fellas. I’ve only purchased once from them but it went smoothly and was very high quality.
A little reminder
Pairing: Wooyoung (dom) x reader (sub)
WC: 650
Warnings: smut, language, degradation, usage of toys, vibrators
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“Please have mercy” You cried out but this only made Wooyoung smirk more. “Oh are you sorry now, it doesn’t seem like it. Maybe after another orgasm you will be sorry” Wooyoung turned up the vibrations that had you screaming. “Oh god” You moaned while gripping the bed sheets, if you weren’t feeling sorry before you defiantly were now. What were you even sorry for in the first place? Wooyoung knew that you were close to Jongho, the two of you were the same age and when he introduced you to his bandmates yes you got along with everyone but Jongho was the one you were the closest to. Seonghwa was like another father figure, showering you with love but also no stranger to giving out tough love from time to time. Hongjoong, Yunho and Yeosang were like your protective older brothers. Can be annoying at times and protective in a brotherly way but you still loved them. Mingi and San were like other brothers but he were more reserved. Wooyoung was of course the man you loved with all your heart. Jongho though, he was your best friend. You hung out with the others only as a group but when it came to Jongho you could hang out with him one on one, Wooyoung was fine with this as he knew that you loved him and the two of you were only just friends. However when he saw you grinding against him at a club, you had gone just a little too far for Wooyoung's liking. That’s how you ended up here, pinned to the bed by your man and a rabbit vibrator nestled snug inside of you. The vibrations both inside and outside kept bringing you orgasm after orgasm, you just hit your third of the night but Wooyoung still wasn’t impressed. He wanted you crying and begging for his forgiveness, and he was going to get it no matter what it took, of course, unless you safe worded out. “No no baby you can give me more than that” Wooyoung watched as you shook, his smirk never leaving his face. “Please Wooyoung” You were not even entirely sure what you were begging for, as your fourth orgasm hit you were away with the clouds. “Hmm, please what” Wooyoung pressed harder down and you almost sobbed, the vibrations on your clit alone were starting to hurt, the ones inside your vagina starting to go numb with how constant they were. You were about to hit your breaking point, you shook your head in protest but the rest of your body wasn’t listening. You started to cry, it was all too much. You knew that Wooyoung could be rough but it seemed like tonight he was relentless. “Are you sorry now yet slut, who do you belong to?” for getting what he wanted, which was you to be crying he turned down the vibrations, not off just down. “You oh my god you Wooyoung” You continued to beg and cry. “Hmm, say it again, Who do you belong to?” “You Wooyoung I’m yours!” “Oh? your mine? it didn’t look that way when you were grinding against Jongho earlier tonight?” Wooyoung teased and watched as you fell apart even more, if that was even possible. “I promise I’m yours please, Wooyoung I love you!” “Alright, just give me one more and it’s over.” The next morning while eating breakfast Wooyoung asked what you thought about what
happened last night, and you told him the truth which was that you loved it. It was intense but you loved it so much and the aftercare was stella so.
What made you gasp and punch him in the arm though was when he told you that he wasn’t actually angry with you, you could dance with Jongho all you liked, Wooyoung just needed an excuse to do what he did last night ay!
When on vacation
Pairing: Yunho (dom) x reader (sub)
WC: 487
Warnings: smut, language, usage of toys, vibrators
------------------------------------------
“Finally some time alone” Yunho sighs, kissing you again as he closes the door behind him.
“Hmm alone indeed, I wonder what we should do?” You playfully asked and pulled him along to the bed.
“And guess what I brought?” Yunho pulls from his pocket the pink shinee bullet vibrator you owned.
You gasped at the sight, smiling widely in anticipation; “ooh fun.”
You and Yunho had been invited to a friends wedding in Fiji, it was only a small wedding with the happy couple’s closest friends and family.
So they also decided to make it a friends group trip and stay a few extra days to explore. While sightseeing and eating yummy food was a fun time, you only wanted to eat one thing now, you wanted to ravish up in Yunho's love.
It didn’t take long for the both of you to be naked; heavily making out while stripping away at each other’s clothes simultaneously. The air was hot and thick, making you feel even more aroused now that you can smell it.
“I want you” Yunho gasps in between kisses and boob grabs.
“You can have me, baby, I’m all yours” you replied and tilted your head back, allowing Yunho access to trail his kisses down further.
“Yeah, you want me to fuck you?” Yunho groans in anticipation.
“Oh please fuck me!” you groaned back, wanting nothing more.
That was all the consent Yunho needed to get on to the fun stuff, after making sure you were wet enough that’s when he sat you down on his dick, the both of you moaning out loud when doing so.
“Uh it’s so big” you commented, sitting down slowly to prevent unwanted pain.
“Now this is why I had you on top, so it was easier for me to do this” Yunho grabbed the small vibrator and wasted no time in turning it on and placing it straight on your clit.
You yelped from the surprise, but you knew this was going to happen so you weren’t surprised for long. “oh that’s so good Min.”
“Yeah, does my baby like that?” Yunho grunted from the pleasure he was feeling himself.
“Baby, I love it. more” you gasped, the edge approaching fast and when Yunho turned up the intensity on the vibrator it instantly got you to the edge.
You were so close, the combination of the vibrations and Yunho's upwards thrusts were more than enough to get you there. “Min I’m close”
“Oh, you’re close? then be a good girl and cum around my cock” Yunho was close too, he tried to last longer but now that you felt the same he didn’t care anymore.
The both of you came together, leaning up to kiss each other to get the full effect. Yunho really was the best lover and boyfriend; because you you got to experience his softer side and his soft side loved to cuddle.
Making him wait + payback
Pairing: Yeosang (dom) x reader (sub)
WC: 672
Warnings: smut, language, usage of toys, handcuffs
--------------------------------
“Are you ready?” Yeosang called from down the stairs for like the 100th time, making you groan in protest. “Can I not put shoes on in piece” You called back while doing up your boot zipper then looking for your bag. You and Yeosang plus the guys finally had some time off which defiantly meant a night out was needed. “The guys will be here any minute” Yeosang looked out his window as a black mini van pulled up. “Calm your tits will ya, I’m right here” You scared the shit out of him which made him yelp then clutch his heart. “Dam it baby warn a guy” Yeosang tried to catch his breath while also looking at you, wanting to know what 2 hours of prep meant. “Think of it as payback for being annoying” You retorted. “You look stunning though, like DAYM” Yeosang took you in, grabbing you by the waist and licking his lips. You chose to wear a leopard print mini dress that had brown lace trimming at the top, bottom and the singlet sleeves were also lace. You paired it with a brown leather jacket and brown knee high boots, going for a full brown fit but you were loving the colour brown recently. “You like?” You giggled and did a little twirl. “Yeah baby I like very much” Yeosang couldn’t keep his hands off of you, kissing your neck, feeling you up all over. He only stopped when the door opened. “We can’t right now, be a good boy and wait till we get home” You pecked his lips before going to greet the others. Yeosang took a few deep breaths to get rid of his “problem” before he too greeted the others. The wait was agonising, to Yeosang you looked so good in brown and all he wanted to do was ravish you. He also knew you loved a night out so he tried his best to be a good boyfriend and not ruin it by being a horny asshole. That’s not to say he wasn’t happy as hell when you asked to go home. He was grinning the whole cab ride, slyly rubbing his hands on your thighs, you knew what he was doing but you didn’t care, you wanted it too. The moment you both got inside Yeosang's lips were on yours. Your back pressed against the wall, clothes coming off in a hurry. Yeosang couldn’t wait any longer. You didn’t even notice Yeosang handcuff you to the bed, too emerged in kissing him to notice until you have the urge to run your fingers through his hands only to find out that you can’t. “Hey whats this for?” You whine in protest. “Think of it as payback for making me wait” Yeosang smirked and you cursed at yourself, he was using your own words against you. Yeosang went right back to his kissing and teasing, sucking on your nipples and fingering your sweet pussy but at a slow pace. You begged for him to go faster but it was no use, if Yeosang wanted to tease you then Yeosang was going to tease you. You tried pulling on the restraints but again it was no use. ‘Let me have my fun now, you already had your turn when you were dancing like a sexy godess but not letting me do anything.“ "oh god” You moaned when Yeosang hit your spot. Falling apart under his touch, it never took long, Yeosang was one hell of a skilled man when it came to this stuff. “Thats it baby, give me more” Yeosang praised and continued to finger you, loving the way you wanted to give into him but also not let him win. Eventually, you did give in though. The pleasure
While not being enough was also too much all at once which had you cumming around his fingers, Yeosang smiling with so much love as he watched you come undone.
“Hmm, I think you’ve now learned your lesson, shall I fuck you now?”
Simsnatural: Bedroom Shenanigans
Got a comment (thank you! 💖) on the last post:
"Is that a ball gag on the end table I see? 💀" — @und3ad-puppy
Why, yes! Yes, it is! But that's nothing. The whole place has had redecorating since those screenshots were taken. Sam and Dean have well and truly made themselves at home...

I call this the Kinky Corner. All their trophies on display. 🤭
And a little hint at Sam's end table there... Let's take a closer look.

Ta-da! Very apropos of their personalities, I feel. Lol. (Although I might need to find some skin mags for Dean.)
Hey, don't judge them! They have a healthy, adventurous sex life. If anything, judge them for the cow plant out the back that they killed in like a week. Honestly. Who thought giving them a kid was a good idea?
My Simsnatural posts: here.
Mods/CC: here.
The Choreographer - Pt. 5
Jimin x reader / Jungkook x reader / future poly! bts x reader
Summary: As the assistant choreographer for BTS, you are often responsible for helping the guys rehearse one-on-one. Professional and courteous as you try to act on the job, there is no denying that deep within you lies a submissive, thirsty slut, dying to come out and play. Everyone knows scandal would cost you your job, but sometimes the tension can become unbearable.
It’s too bad. But it’s too sweet.
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Grinding, drinking, partying, jealousy, angst, fluff, forbidden affairs, fingering, oral (f receiving), foul language, light bondage, spanking, rough sex, and so much smut.
Word count: 6.8k
A/N: This chapter is almost entirely smut with a brief glimpse of plot at the end if you squint. But it is an important plot point that hints at major things to come. I didn’t ever intend for this one-shot to turn into this crazy whirlwind but here we are.
Masterlist

the entire duration of the game you and Jungkook had been playing, you’d always had the upper hand. You were sure of it. But when he left shortly afterwards, no hint of an answer to your question, suddenly you felt small.
He wasn’t sure if he was okay with the arrangement you had proposed. He needed time to think about it.
Okay, that was fine. It was a lot to think about. Logically, it made sense.
But did it?
You had thrown yourself at him. Done exactly what he wanted. Submitted to his every carnal desire. But he was still not entirely sure he wanted to continue seeing you? It didn’t add up. You gave him what you suspected was best fuck of his life. It may have even been the best fuck of yours, too.
Was that why it ate away at you? Because the sex was so good and now you weren’t sure you would get it again? Or was it something worse?
Inside your body, something squeezed, sputtered, and grew heavier. A bitterness rose up from your stomach, threatening to spill into your mouth. You clenched your jaw to keep it down. It felt too much like rejection—a feeling you knew only too well.
The first time, it had been from your peers. You were just a young schoolgirl, trying her hardest to fit in with hand-me-down clothes and holes in your shoes. You were only ten years old, but you felt the sting of cruelty. The most popular girl in your class was also a dancer. As a child prodigy, you had skyrocketed to the top of your dance class, and she hated you for it. She turned the other girls against you. Told them your father was dating your dance instructor and that’s why you were always given the spotlight. Warned them not to trust you because you would do anything for attention. But that wasn’t true. Any of it. You adamantly defended your father’s reputation, clear up until he left your mother and she yanked you out of dance class so you wouldn’t be around “that harlot.”
Then, from your teachers after you failed, once again, to turn in your homework. To your credit, you really did try, but your evenings were spent cleaning houses to afford dance lessons from a different studio on the weekends. You wanted to prove to yourself and to others that it wasn’t true. You were a good dancer and a hard worker, and that’s why you got center stage. It wasn’t because of the affair. It wasn’t. You told your mother you were spending your evenings with a tutor. She may have even bought it for a time. But your marks never improved.
After that, it was from your mother. She found out you had enrolled in a private arts school with a great dance program instead of the business school she had insisted on. You begged and pleaded for her to let you stay, but she cut you off. No funding. No help. Being a dancer was a whore’s job. You took out more debt than you could reasonably handle, but paid your own way. She offered to help if you transferred to the business school, but you had neither the drive, nor the scholastic achievements to make it as a number cruncher.
The worst though—the worst was with your professor. Taking on more student debt than you could hope to pay off was a risk, but you were hopeful and confident. All your life, you had been the best dancer in your class. But at the arts school? You were a small fish in a pretty fucking huge pond, and he let you know it. Sometimes it was with a backhanded complement because you messed up the combination, but at least you were pretty so he doubted anyone would notice. Other times it was with outright insults. Daggers thrown carelessly in your direction to let you know that you weren’t good enough as a dancer. That you’d have to rely on your looks to get ahead. And then when that internship opportunity arose—no. You cut that train off right in its tracks. It was behind you. You have handled rejection countless times.
But this?
This was different. Your value had been reduced to your looks many times, but even still, they have never failed you. You had never thrown your sex appeal so unashamedly at someone to have them meet you with indifference. Jungkook was not rejecting you. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He was merely playing his hand. Flexing his poker face. He would surely call you in a few days.
You did receive a call that evening, but it wasn’t from Jungkook. It was from Mr. Son.
The call was short. No pleasantries were exchanged. His voice held a stoicism that was uncharacteristic of his usual laid-back nature. He wanted to meet with you in the morning to discuss a matter that has come up. That was all the explanation he afforded you.
Your stomach dropped. Your heart pounded a heavy tattoo against your ribs and threatened to erupt out from your chest. All of your fears attacked you at once, like feral wolves gnashing their teeth at your limbs.
You didn’t sleep that night. Visions of Jungkook feeding Mr. Son stories of your sexual escapades with the members played on repeat behind closed eyelids. Or what if it was worse? What if Mr. Son had learned of your past scandals?
Dawn arrived with offensive speed. What started as a deep indigo accelerated until a violent red-orange horizon assaulted you through your window, and you dragged yourself out into the cold morning. At 7:00 in the morning, you were sitting in front of Mr. Son’s desk, looking worse for the wear.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
He sighed. “I guess that was probably my fault for sounding so urgent on the phone.”
You didn’t want to admit to him that he was right.
“Why am I here?” you asked. It was best to just get to the point instead of delay your torture any longer.
“I’m really sorry. I hate to have to do this, but I don’t really have a choice,” he began. Tears threatened to spill over your eyelids. You said nothing.
“As you know, the boys are going on tour soon,” he continued.
Confusion now entered into the mix of emotions whirling around inside you.
“I am responsible for overseeing the choreography on tour,” he spoke in a softer tone, “but my mother is ill, and I need to look after her. I know it’s not in your contract to travel out of the country, and I’m basically asking you to put your life on hold, but please.”
He moved so he was standing in front of you and took your hand in his, “please, can you go in my place? I’ll do anything. She needs me to stay.”
You looked at your friend and colleague, the man you respected and owed your career to, as the desperation on his face grew. He had done everything for you. You owed him this.
“I can do it.”
There was no hesitation. Mr. Son had never asked anything of you before. You had always relied on him. He had taken you under his wing as a fledgling intern at his previous company, believed in you when others hadn’t, helped you hone your skills, and got you the job here. You had ridden on the tailcoat of his success for years, and now it was your chance to return the favor. You hoped you didn’t disappoint him.
It wasn’t until hours later, you began to panic, after the details had all been laid out. This would stand as a defining moment of your career. Mr. Son thought you were ready to handle the job responsibilities without his careful guidance. But the triumph was soured with the knowledge that you would be traveling with the boys for weeks—potentially months if Mr. Son had to stay back longer.
It would probably be best if you stopped fucking around and focused solely on your job. That was the most prudent option. Your career was too important to risk any more. You had busted your ass to get here. Done things you weren’t proud of. Things you tried to forget. It would all be in vain if you got fired because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. You were better than that.
Your phone rang.
“Are you busy?” Jimin asked.
“No, I’m off today,” you answered.
“Want some company?”
Maybe you weren’t better than that. But you would be as soon as the tour started.
“So how did your talk go?” he said, walking over to the bed with a glass of water, which he handed to you.
Sitting up, you pulled the bed sheets up over your naked body. Jimin frowned and lightly tugged them back down.
“Talk?” Had he known about your meeting with Mr. Son?
“With Jungkook,” he answered.
“Oh.” The bitterness in your throat returned. “It was…complicated,” you said, heaving a sigh. He climbed back into the bed and wrapped comforting arms around you.
“I can see that,” he said, brushing a delicate finger over the angry purple marks on your neck. “You might want to talk to him about his habit of leaving these.”
“As if you’re any less at fault,” you scoffed.
“Fair enough.” He nuzzled your cheek in a show of affection.
“When do you have to be back?” you asked.
“I have all day,” he said, pulling you to recline back down onto the bed with him. He lazily drew circles on your abdomen with his thumb.
“Have you talked to him at all?” you inquired, curiosity getting be best of you.
“No. He’s been keeping to himself the last couple of days,” he answered. You furrowed your brow. “I’m sure he’ll come around,” Jimin said, and pulled you on top of him so you could straddle his hips.
“Already?” you gasped. The corner of his mouth twitched up in conjunction with his raised eyebrow. “You’re going to wear me out, I swear to god,” you said and rolled your hips along his cock, which had become erect again much sooner than you expected, considering the fact that it had just been inside you not ten minutes ago.
“This is new,” he said, grabbing your thighs and pulling you further into him from where you sat on top of his hips. “I like it.”
You didn’t respond, but held eye contact, rocking your hips back and forth over his arousal. He looked too good to be real, head tilted back and throat exposed, trying to hold back a strangled gasp as you raked your hands down his chiseled chest. His abs flexed as he bucked his hips up to meet yours, digging his nails into your thighs. You could feel yourself dripping down and leaving a mess on him, and when he felt how wet you were, his grip on your thigh tightened and he brought his other hand up to your throat. One of your favorite kinks.
You marveled at how he knew exactly what to do to make your body respond the way he wanted it to. He was so adept at guessing your dirtiest needs without even asking. But truth be told, what you needed most was his dominance. You wanted to please him.
“Do you like when I grab your pretty little throat?” he growled.
“Y…yes,” you choked out. He squeezed tighter. “Yes, sir.”
At that, he stopped the motion of his hips and relaxed his grip, only to sit up and grab your waist sharply. Before you knew it, your head hit the pillow and Jimin was on top of you, sucking at your neck and running his hands all over you.
“God, you’re so wet for me,” he said before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. A sonorous moan reverberated from his mouth to your hardened bud as you raked your fingers through is tresses.
“Jimin,” you whined. “I need you in me.”
He brought his mouth back up to meet yours and sucked lightly on your bottom lip.
“Where do you keep your condoms?” he asked, having already spent the one he brought with him.
“Bottom drawer,” you gasped out, pointing to your nightstand without looking. You whimpered at the loss of his touch as he clambered off you and dipped his head off the side of the bed, looking for a foil packet in the cluttered drawer you kept your personal items in. After rummaging around a bit, he sat back up and looked at you. Eyes still closed in anticipation, you didn’t notice him holding up something that was definitely not a condom.
He clicked a button and a familiar whirring sound hits your ears. Your eyes snap open to find him holding your vibrator. He met your gaze—his eyes absolutely smoldering.
“Jimin…,” you whimpered, eager to feel him. But the smirk playing on his face indicated he was planning on showing you no mercy. He pressed the tip to your nipple, just enough to cause your pulse to quicken. He bent down and took your earlobe between his lips, tugging softly.
“Jimin,” you gasped, “don’t tease.”
“Tell me,” he whispered in a voice so saturated with sex it should be illegal, “how many times have you fucked yourself with this, wishing it was me?”
You didn’t want to admit the truth, but he persisted, running the toy up your neck and to your lips. When you didn’t answer again, he rolled you over and smacked your ass hard, causing you to let out a pathetic cry.
“Answer me, bitch.” The verbal dominance made your insides erupt with need.
“T…too many to count, sir,” you admitted in a squeak. He turned you back over to face him.
“Such a pretty slut. So desperate for my cock.”
You pressed your lips together and nodded, eager for more. He ran the pulsating toy down your body and pressed it against your clit, spurring another moan to escape your throat.
Before he got too carried away, however, he shut the vibrator off and tossed it carelessly to the floor.
You whimpered. He had turned you into a writhing mess in the span of a few minutes and your core absolutely ached. “Wh…why’d you—” but your question was cut off as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.
“Get dressed,” he said. You stared blankly at him in confusion. He chuckled at the look of exasperation that adorned your features. “You’re too good for cheap plastic toys like that. I want to treat that pussy right.”
You scoffed in annoyance. “Then put your dick inside it and fuck me,” you spat, allowing your frustration to seep through your tone. He shot you a glance that served as a warning before he left the bedroom, and you sighed, knowing better than to argue with him.
With groan of frustration, you stood up and rummaged through your closet to find a clean pair of panties and a flowy sundress. When you emerged into the living room, face still flushed with your earlier activities and still reeking of sex, Jimin was already dressed, his clothes having been torn off and scattered around the floor in the throes of passion earlier. He ran his eyes up and down your body, appraising you.
“Easy access,” he said, gesturing to the short hemline that floated above your knees. “I like it.”
Jimin slipped on a black face mask and a baseball cap to hide any distinguishing features. He also removed all of his signature jewelry for good measure, rendering him essentially indistinguishable. By the time he slipped on a pair of sunglasses and you both walked out of your building, he looked utterly unremarkable.
“Let’s take your car. My license plate could be recognized.”
You nodded hesitantly. “I don’t know where we’re going…”
“I’ll drive,” he responded, and you tossed him your keys. It hadn’t even been a week since he last drove your car home after the restaurant and you had come far too close to the rejection you tried so hard to avoid. You smirked inwardly at how drastically things had changed since. Surely, the same would happen with Jungkook.
“A sex store? Really?” you asked.
“Just have an open mind, trust me.” He grabbed your hand and led you inside. You were the only two there. He gave the owner a nod as he passed the counter and you got the impression that this was not the first time Jimin had been here.
As you looked around the store, you felt tingles ripple across your body. Displays of lingerie lined the walls. Racks on the floor showcased various devices, some of which you’d never seen before. Walking over to one shelf, you eyed a display of Ben Wa balls. You’d heard about them before, but had never thought to get any. These ones, however, held your attention.
“Find something you like?” Jimin’s soft voice broke you out of your thoughts. You pointed to the display, and he nodded in approval before giving you permission to pick out a pretty purple set to keep.
Jimin guided you to the lingerie, tossing quite the assortment of sheer, strappy garments into the basket so quickly you didn’t even get a good look at his choices. “I plan on seeing a lot of you. I want you to have options,” he explained. “I expect you to wear these for me.”
Jimin had picked out so much lingerie that he had to get a large basket to carry everything. He filled it with all sorts of things you had never seen before, and you wondered how you were ever under the impression that he was innocent.
Flavored lube, arousal gel, dildos in assorted sizes and materials, rope, blindfolds, a riding crop, a feather tickler, a spreader bar, leather cuffs. He didn’t leave any section untouched. By that point, you were so slick your panties failed to absorb it, and it threatened to run down your thighs.
His final pick was a unique one. A rather expensive U-shaped silicone vibrator that could be remotely controlled. Your eyes ran over the impressive set of features listed on the box. Video chat, a smartphone app to control it, Bluetooth connectivity, multi-uses. Your breath hitched at the thought of him controlling the device, getting you to come while he was halfway across the globe.
The total for all his purchases was higher than you spent on rent and utilities in a full month. You should have stopped him. Told him that you would be leaving on tour with them and that you couldn’t continue sleeping with each other. If you were a better person, you would have tried harder.
“Do we really need all of this? I thought we were just coming for a vibrator?” you asked feebly.
“Yes,” he deadpanned without batting an eye. He paid in all cash, not wanting to leave a paper trail lest anyone discover his extracurricular activities. You wondered how he could fit that much cash in his wallet, and if he was always prepared for less-than-wholesome purchases. The fact that he was willing to spend so much on your sexual pleasure caused something within you to lift and the bitterness in your throat to ebb. The tour and the golden maknae were pushed forcefully from your mind. They were problems for future you to deal with.
“Hungry?” he asked, getting back into the car after he loaded his bags of sin into your back seat.
“Starving,” you answered.
He drove to a restaurant that was quite beyond your means. “My treat.” The warm feeling in your gut began to spread. To Jimin, you were worth treating, and that was a comforting thought.
“So what, are you like my sugar daddy now?” you joked. You caught the flash of sin in his eyes before he regained his calm demeaner.
“I can’t help but want to take care of you,” he admitted. You didn’t want to question it.
“Before we go in,” he said, reaching back into a small bag, “put these on.” He handed you a thin pair of black lace panties.
“Yes, sir.”
You slid the soaked pair you were currently wearing off your body, handing them to Jimin, who brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply before pocketing them. You watched the lewd act in awe, as you wiggled into the new pair, noticing a distinct lack of coverage.
“Crotchless?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached back into the bag and pulled out the expensive toy. “Spread,” he commanded, and you lifted the hem of your dress out of the way so he could see how slick you were. He rubbed your slit a few times, letting out a soft groan as he did.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he observed, and inserted one end of the toy into you with no need for lube—you were already wet enough. You shivered as his hands brushed over your sensitive bundle of nerves under the flimsy disguise of ensuring the fit was right. He positioned it so that the inner end was up against your g-spot while the outer end fit snugly against your clit.
Giving you a chaste kiss, he licked the finger that had been stroking you and pulled up his face mask again before stepping out of the car and walking over to open your door. As you stood up, you noticed the toy fit very well, but you still kept your thighs pressed together as much as you could so it wouldn’t fall out. The panties provided less security than you would have liked.
Jimin leaned in and whispered something to the hostess, who nodded and led the two of you to a private dining area in the back of the restaurant. There was only one table, which you were thankful for. The door closed, and Jimin finally removed his mask, glasses, and hat, allowing you to gaze once more at those beautiful plush lips of his. You dutifully ignored the fact that there was a timer on your fling and it was ticking toward an end.
He smiled at you, and you blushed without meaning to. Your heartbeat suddenly quickened, nerves taking you by surprise. This should not be making you nervous. He should not be making you nervous, considering how deep inside you he has been already. The fact that you would have to give this up in a matter of weeks had somehow made him all the more desirable.
You busied yourself looking at the menu to hide the feelings of guilt that threatened to take hold. It’s not like this was a date, so why did it feel like you were leading him on? You knew he couldn’t date, and so did he. This was dinner. He had said himself that you could go back to normal at any point with no hard feelings. At most, this was Jimin being an exhibitionist.
The ambiance of the restaurant décor had placed rose-tinted glasses on you without you even noticing. It had been expertly curated to make everything look more romantic than it actually was. This was not a date. Was not. The extravagance of this restaurant would not make you regret choosing your career over sex with Jimin. The sex wasn’t worth it.
“Anything look good?” he asked.
“I think I want the—ah! Oh…,” you were interrupted by the immensely pleasurable sensation of the vibrator whirring to life.
“Sorry, what was that?” he asked, as he increased the vibration speed from the toy’s app on his phone. Your hands slapped the table to brace yourself against it. You haven’t felt this sensation before. Sure, your cheap plastic vibrator could get you off, but it was weak, and was only able to stimulate one area at a time. The powerful dual stimulation of Jimin’s purchase had you gasping within seconds.
“So responsive,” he said, chuckling to himself at how easily he had you panting, before stopping the vibrations altogether. You looked up at him, your sexual frustration clearly displayed in your expression. He had been teasing you for hours and at this point, you were barely holding yourself together.
“I can tell I’m going to love this,” he said, a sly smile plastered on his face.
You tried your best to concentrate on the menu, but the looming threat of public indecency weighed heavy. It was both intimidating and arousing, knowing at any moment, Jimin could turn you into a sloppy mess with the press of a button. His actions squashed any question of whether or not this was a date (and your guilt along with it). It wasn’t. This was Jimin stepping up his teasing to the next level by doing it in public. You told yourself firmly that it was relief you were feeling, not disappointment. Relief.
The server walked in to take your drink orders, and you thanked Jimin internally for behaving while she was present. He ordered a glass of wine for each of you, along with a few extra napkins, which solidified your assumption that Jimin was not planning on letting you eat in peace.
“Is wine your preferred poison?” you asked once the server came back with your drinks. Taking a sip, you recalled how he had offered to share his expensive bottle of cabernet with you the first time you fucked.
“I don’t have many vices,” he answered, “but I do enjoy a fine wine.”
“What are your vices, then?” you asked. He took a moment to ponder, licking his lips slowly while deep in thought.
“Perfectionism, for one. Adoration. Applause. You know, the Idol lifestyle.”
“Any others?”
“One more,” he said and narrowed his eyes.
“What is…oh, fuck—” You felt the vibrations once again, just briefly, before he quickly shut it off. Recovering, you swallowed thickly and continued your inquisition.
“Dominance, or sex in general?” You murmured your follow up question between heavy breaths.
“Deviance,” he answered.
It made sense. Idols have to follow such a strict set of rules for how they behaved in public. There had to be some sort of outlet. You were beginning to understand why he had suddenly become such a sexual person with you after that bridge had been crossed, when before he had seemed so innocent. Fucking him had inadvertently opened the floodgates.
Thoughts of the other boys appeared in your head. Did they all have dirty secrets hidden underneath their dashing smiles and perfectly-coifed hair? Were they all just as starved for sex as Jimin? Or Jungkook?
Or you? Surely they couldn’t have reached the levels of depravity you had once delved to.
Images flashed across your mind before you could stop them. Each of them wearing the same dark, hungry look you had come to know so well on Jimin’s face.
You were brought out of your unintentional fantasy abruptly when your food arrived at the table.
“What about you?” he asked as soon as the server left before digging into his meal.
“What about me?” you repeated.
“What vices do you have?”
You should have known the question would ricochet back to you as soon as you had fired it. You could have been honest. You could have told him your past. About your all-consuming need to feel validated. Your desire to prove yourself through your work. The sour vindictiveness that eats away at you while you cling to it. The bitter culmination of your years of social isolation and failure to excel at anything except dance, and possibly, sex. The overwhelming drive to do everything you possibly could to avoid failing at your only merit.
Or you could have told him about the year you wasted partying, immersing yourself in keg stands, bong hits, and one-night stands that punctuated the nights you spent curled up into yourself and sobbing at your failure to find employment after taking on so much debt and throwing away any remaining dignity for a dead-end internship until Mr. Son stepped in and offered you a position with BigHit.
Even after you got your job, your lewd actions hadn’t entirely ceased—only slowed. They had no idea of the staff parties where you had drunkenly danced in your bra on the kitchen counter of Mr. Son’s house while he ripped a bong and the other staffers played flip cup. But those parties were few and far between, and it had been a long time since you put on a show like that for anyone. Well, until you started fucking the idols. But you were going to stop.
Did they think you were just as innocent as you had assumed they were? If so, it was best to keep the illusion.
“None that come to mind.”
Jimin pressed his lips together, not entirely satisfied with the low-effort nature of your response.
“What about submission?” he asked.
“What?”
“I think what you really crave is submission. You want someone to give you orders and lavish you with praise when you follow them. Am I wrong?”
“That’s not…fuck—” To prove his point, Jimin had once again switched on the vibrations. You pressed your thighs together under the table, trying to keep your reaction at bay.
“You can tell me to stop if you really want, but I prefer you like this.”
Your pride and your lust were at war within you. You didn’t want to admit how well he could read you. You didn’t want to be so desperate to please someone, but he was right. Still, your pride was putting up a good fight.
“St…Jimin, St-st….,” you sputtered half-heartedly. The last few shreds of hubris were carried away on the moan that left your lips.
In the end, it was your lust that claimed victory as your protests got lost in a hiss. You rocked your hips in your chair to deepen the sensation, desperate to relieve the coil that had been winding tighter and tighter within you since you had left the comforts of your bed.
Jimin watched eagerly, dinner all but forgotten about, as you bit your lip and tensed your muscles. It no longer mattered that you were in a public place and your server could walk in at any moment. All you could think about was the taut thread that threatened to snap at any moment.
He put the vibrator on full blast, and you keeled over, catching yourself on the table with your hands and holding onto it with a steel grip to keep you from falling out of your chair. You let out a groan as you grinded your hips down into your chair.
Before you even noticed he had left his chair, Jimin was standing behind you, covering your mouth with his hand to muffle the moans that had become a little too loud. You bit down on his fingers to keep from screaming. His other hand traveled to your throat and within seconds, you were on the verge of collapsing, the toy sending powerful vibrations to your clit and core simultaneously.
You tried with all your might to keep your impending orgasm at bay, but ultimately failed, and failed hard.
“Oh, God Jimin,” He caught your muffled cries in his hand as your climax materialized in your body and your legs shook underneath you. It seeped out of you, staining your dress and the hardwood chair that barely held you up.
He slowly reduced the speed while you came down from your high, before he shut off completely. Your limp body slumped over and you rested your forehead against the table, completely spent.
He gave you a moment to catch your breath and he went back to his dinner, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just turned you into a whimpering mass of sweat and sin.
Eventually, and with great effort, you lifted your forehead off the table and glanced up at him.
“Eat,” he commanded, gesturing to your untouched bowl of noodles, but the last thing on your mind was food.
That was the last time, you promised. The last time you would give in to him.
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