Her fingernails sharply cut against his scalp as she held him to her wet warmth, insisting with a god’s strength that he finish what he’d started. She arched beneath him, a warrior’s yell springing from her as she came against his tongue, her hips rocking as she ground upon his lips with her hardened clit.
Bruce drank in every moment with her, enjoying the look of fierce intensity that broke into peace across her face in the seconds before and after her orgasm. She groaned and squirmed as he pushed two fingers into her cunt, her body still clenching in the wake of her release; he curved his fingers and pressed, curved and pressed, over and over until he had to put his forearm across her pelvis to keep her upon the bed. Wetness coated his hand as she cried out again, thrashing beneath him with a growl, something close to anger flashing in her eyes as she flipped him onto his back and climbed atop him, sinking onto his cock with her head thrown back and her golden curls streaming down her back as she rode him.
The setup is pretty garish — Gabriel chomping a candy cigar, sitting behind his conjured-up desk and buzzing Sam in to “take some dic…..tation.” Still, Sam feels beautiful, in a Mad Men kind of way, in her equally conjured tight dress and heels, and when Gabriel gives her the once-over, she can’t help but cock her hip and strike a pose before saying, “anything you need, Boss.”
Cut to the chase and Sam’s on her back on the desk, skirt hiked over her waist and legs spread — heels still on, obviously — wide in the air. Gabriel’s dropped the cigar, but his mouth still tastes of the candy as he devours Sam’s mouth, leaning over her and running his hands up and down her long legs. He thrusts in slow and deliberate, and Sam’s wetter than she thought she’d be, completely enthralled with the world Gabriel’s created specifically for her, to make her the sexiest creature in their little pocket universe.
Sam’s too tall, gangly and awkward, but Jessica molds to her body like they were made for each other, kissing down her stomach to caress her thighs with ardent lips. Sam tangles her fingers in Jess’s hair, moans, wonders what she ever did to deserve such an amazing girlfriend, and then just lies back and allows Jess to have her way. And Jess’s lips are soft and pressing on her pussy first, and then her tongue comes into play, stroking gently downward against the hood of her clit and pausing, warm but pliant, against the opening. Sam gasps, and her hands tighten in Jess’s hair when Jess sucks slightly, making Sam’s thighs tense toes curl. And with the next round of gentle, maddening sucks and licks, Sam’s halfway to orgasm already, lost in pleasure and in love for this amazing girl she hopes she’ll never be so stupid as to lose.
It drives Dean crazy to see Sam pleasure herself on anything that isn’t his dick, and that’s probably while she enjoys making him watch so much. This time he’s spread-eagled on the bed, his hips canting upward as he watches her with wide eyes. She’s fucking herself on a big black dildo, one of her favorites, as she squats over him, holding herself upright with one hand on the center of his chest. It’s obscene, torture, and with every thrust of the dildo into her pussy he thrusts up himself, as though he can feel the enveloping warmth of her just from watching. when she cries out, and a rush of fluid splashes clear on his stomach, he gives an answering cry of desperation, suddenly moments away from a climax himself.
The dildo is their answer to the eternal question of “how do we fuck each other and still get the penetration we want” - when they hook their legs together and push their asses toward each other, the dildo might as well be suspended in midair for how well it stays at the perfect angle. And Dena can feel Sam’s flesh, feel their asses and pussies slapping together with each stroke. On their hands and knees on the bed, facing away from each other, they still gasp “Fuck me,” because really, they might as well be fucking each other with how intimate the contact is.
And the camera’s just for kicks, and for fun; they make some money off it, and half the time they film it just for their own benefit. There’s nothing to get them in the mood like watching the two of them, back to back, screaming their way through hot orgasms, their breasts heaving and their hair tossed from side to side along their naked backs.
Turns out the way to get Dean to say yes isn’t to threaten him with the death of people he cares about or to remind him of the immutability of destiny; it’s not to tell him the world will be better afterward or to promise him a thousand and one rewards for his obedience. No, Dean will say yes, but only if he’s opened up, bit by bit, piece by piece, and so Michael comes to him as a woman, a pretty girl who’s willing to give up her body to God’s plan, and asks if they can go someplace more private.
She’s all fingers and whispered words, as pretty as promises of heaven, and Dean groans as she works off his shirt, kisses all down his neck and chest to his stomach, takes his cock in her mouth and sucks until he’s straining against the sheets, balling them up in his fists and thrusting his hips up into the wet suction of her mouth. And then she mounts him, towering over him in an angel’s glory, smiling as she reaches down to open her pussy lips to glide over the tip of his cock. “I’ll let you in,” she says, looking down at him with blazing eyes, “if you’ll let me in, Dean… so, will you?” and he doesn’t even think before saying yes.
"I’m sick of fighting," she says, and knocks him down, climbing on top of him as though she’s about to start whaling on him — that’s how it usually ends, with punches and with wrestling, until Lucifer gains the upper hand and they’re both thrown back onto their feet for another round. But this time it’s not her fists but her mouth that lands on his, and a foreign surge of want slides through Lucifer; his hands are on her waist in a second, pulling her closer where normally he’d be pushing her away, and the kiss lingers, deepening, desperate, as though all their battles have just been preface to this from the start.
They’re alone in here, but for two souls they’ve long since discarded, and there’s no shame as Michael pushes her breasts into Lucifer’s face, demands he lavish them with kisses and licks. He juts up his hips, demands contact, and she gives him one better, sliding onto his cock in an instant and enveloping them both in an intense wash of pleasure. From then on, it’s rutting and grinding and kissing, their bodies joined, their battle now a rushing race to climax, and when Michael screams out her orgasm and shakes hard, Lucifer doesn’t want to call it a victory, only because it means then the battle would be over — and he’d rather fight this forever than have to ever win or lose.
A/N: Submitted by anonymous.
Lucifer has always been the centre of attention, the brightest and the best of them all, but sometimes Michael will find the time to take him to one side. She starts with his wings, a thorough grooming, and even though he never has a feather out of place she will smooth each one down into perfect alignment.
Only then will she move onto his body, pressing kisses against every inch of him, muttering against the skin “beautiful, perfect, mine.” Because he is hers - her closest brother, made to be her opposite and her equal, and her love for him is as great as his beauty, their father’s two perfect creations.
So she tells him, over and over, until he is panting her name in reverence and wonder as she sinks down to envelop him and they become one perfect whole.
"That’s it," Tony Stark fairly cooed into Stiles’ ear calloused fingers petting soothingly against her lower back as he pressed the head of his dick against her already full vagina, and she bit back the growing urge to hit him for it, "Just relax an-"
With a growl Stiles unknotted one hand from the handle —a partially unbolted plate on the armor— and did her best to bitch slap her boss and his condescending attitude, “Stop treating me like glass and put it in!”
God, he was treating her like a virgin, which was sweet thought for all that it was a decade late, but at this point going slow was only making things worse, she’d rather have the initial burning stretch of taking Tony and the very life-like attachment he’d placed on the suit over with so she could get to enjoying herself faster.
Tony, bless his twisted heart, finally did exactly what she’d told him to do, Stiles gasped as she gripped the cold metal below her tightly, breathing in deeply and consciously relaxing herself as Tony’s dick nudged in right next to the cool length already inside her.
"Next time," Tony said a little out of breath, fingers immediately finding Stiles’ clit, which went a long way to pushing her beyond any pain she might still be feeling, Stiles moaned and rocked back a little, "I’ll have it vibrating."
Sam chooses what she wears to bed carefully, she doesn’t like to be predictable and hates wearing the same thing too often, it helps that she has a lot to choose from, an entire dresser filled with colorful bits of lace and silk and even a bit of leather.
Sometimes she can’t choose between the lingerie and will pull out a handful to try on, carefully tugging the delicate cloth into place before critically analyzing herself in the mirror from multiple angles, not stopping until she finds the set that best pleases her that night.
Tonight is one of those nights, Sam has already discarded three different lacy teddies and firmly rejected the leather corset and garter combo before slipping on a pair of sheer black panties that caress her skin and feel right even before she pulls on the matching see through camisole.
She twists and turns in front of the full length mirror, admiring the way her breasts look through the fabric before she turns around and walks to the bed, Gabriel grins and sits up from his lazy sprawl to pull her into his lap, fingers as greedy as his eyes as he touches her through the cloth she’s chosen for the night, “You always pick the best wrappings for presents, babe.”
Sam snorts even as Gabe’s fingers find her nipples through the cami and use the material to his advantage, both of them ignoring the hard flesh poking against her thigh for the moment, Sam sighs as Gabe starts sucking wet patches into the cloth and against her skin, “Only because it’s cute watching you unwrap your gifts.”