#i was plain ol' aroused | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

domjaehyun · 2 years ago

Text

HUSH, HUSH (teaser)

pairing :: jeno, haechan, jaemin x fem!reader

genre :: smut

word count :: 19.1k total so far, teaser is 1.1k

smut warnings :: foursome, praise kink, some degradation, mild dubcon (bc it’s me obviously), a good ol’ “just the tip” moment, fingering, oral (receiving & giving), overstimulation, and more 💖

notes :: this teaser only features jaemin, but they’re all in the fic!!

release date :: july 2022

After tidying yourself up, you decide to forego the underwear, not wanting to wear cold, slick clothing for the rest of the night. Balling them up in your fist, you head out of the bathroom and towards your room to change into a new pair, barely stifling your shriek of alarm when you bump directly into Jaemin’s chest.

“Sorry, Jaem,” You laugh breathlessly, looking up at the male, and your mouth dries. Jaemin, to put it bluntly, looks like he’s onto you. His brows are raised and his face is the epitome of if you tossed skepticism, amusement, and being entirely unimpressed into a blender and pressed the start button.

“Wh…what’s that look for?” You ask nervously, and Jaemin’s lip quirks up into a smug smile, a devilish little grin that silently sings, “I know something you don’t know.”

“Don’t act innocent when we both know what you were doing less than ten minutes ago.” He scolds you in that patronizing tone that’s so uniquely Jaemin, and you blanch, your fist tightening around your soiled undergarment.

“What do you mean?” The words don’t even sound right coming out of your mouth, and you wonder if you look as guilty as you feel.

His lips stretch into a Cheshire cat-like grin as he leans in, closing the gap between your faces as he studies you with an unnerving steadiness.

“‘Just the tip, pretty,’” He mocks Jeno’s voice, and if there was any hope of you making it out of this encounter unscathed, you just kissed it goodbye.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” You mumble, your face feeling simultaneously drained of all color and blazing with heat.

“But I did.” Jaemin lilts, reaching up to twirl a lock of your hair around his finger. Normally, the gesture would feel fond, affectionate even, but the look in Jaemin’s eyes has you feeling more like a mouse being batted around by a cat before it goes in for the kill. He tugs unexpectedly on your hair and your hand flies up to stop him a moment too soon, your eyes widening when Jaemin’s other hand shoots out and grabs your wrist, holding your balled up fist (and underwear) up in plain sight. “What do we have here?” He murmurs curiously, eyes alight with a cruel, mocking glee.

“Jaemin, please let it go—”

“No underwear?” Jaemin lets out a fake scandalized gasp, the picture of horror before he’s tugging your wrist, bringing you lurching forward and crashing, yet again, into his firm chest. “Oh, you’re such a tease.”

“Jaemin, I’m not—” You whine, but you can’t even deny that Jaemin’s undivided attention on you like this has heat flooding between your legs and you suddenly wish you’d worn the underwear as an extra layer of defense against the arousal you know is about to start leaking out of you.

“First, you snuck off to play with Haechan before we got here—as if no one would notice,” Jaemin looks up thoughtfully, holding up his free hand to count on his fingers. “Then you and Jeno snuck off and hooked up in the bathroom. Then you fooled around with Haechan again—yeah, I wasn’t asleep on the couch,” Jaemin reveals when you splutter in surprise. “Then you went off with Jeno another time, and now you’re standing in front of me, all pretty and nervous and tempting with no fucking underwear on…and nothing for Nana? Hm?”

When you don’t answer, simply at a loss for words, Jaemin sucks his teeth in disapproval and tugs you after him to lead you to your room next door, shutting the door behind you both and pushing you up against it, ignoring your gasp when your back hits the wall.

“Jaemin, I’m sorry,” You try to say, but Jaemin silences you with a stern look, leaving you feeling small under his gaze. After a moment of tense silence, he sighs loudly and pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

“Stop looking at me all wide-eyed and helpless like that,” He huffs, watching you with dark eyes. “It’s making me hard.” His words go straight to your head, making you blink up at him in shock, and he rolls his eyes, moving closer to you, and pushes his leg between yours, brows shooting up in intrigue when a pathetic little moan escapes you. “What a pretty little sound,” Jaemin muses, the corners of his lips quirking upwards. “I think I’ll do that again.”

“Jaemin–” You try to reason with him again, but he shushes you, shifting his attention back to his fingers wrapped around your wrist, your underwear still balled up in your fist. He looks down at you with a sadistically intrigued expression and reaches to pull the fabric from your fist, raising an eyebrow when you yelp and clutch it tighter.

“Open your hand.” He says slowly, and you shake your head vehemently. “Fine.” He smiles sweetly down at you before pressing his thigh against your clothed core, smirking when you visibly struggle not to grind down on it. “Why are you fighting it, hm?” He murmurs curiously, cocking his head to the side. “Just give in,” Jaemin purrs, tensing his leg under you, and you mewl weakly as you roll your hips against his thigh, body slackening in relief.

“No!” You cry out when Jaemin takes advantage of your relaxed grip and pulls the underwear from your hand, immediately averting your eyes in shame. As if to rub in his victory more, he moves his leg between your thighs so you’re rocking back and forth against him, a wide smug grin overtaking his lips.

“I never imagined you were this sensitive, but I love it.” He murmurs, stopping his movements and studying your underwear, turning the garment this way and that. “God, these are soaked; you’re just a little mess, aren’t you?”

“Jaemin, please–” You mumble, and he blinks down at you impassively.

“Pretty girl, you don’t like this?” He taunts in a sickeningly sweet voice, and you whine, shaking your head insistently, your cheeks blazing with embarrassment as he continues, “If you don’t like my teasing…then why are you making all those cute little noises?” You, true to his word, cry out weakly and rock your hips against him desperately. “Mm, that’s what I thought.” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s bringing your underwear to his face, clutching the fabric to his nose and breathing in deeply, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss. Completely caught off-guard, you gasp, and his low groan evokes an overwhelmed whimper from you.

“…Jaemin?” You try again, your voice small and needy, and he slowly opens his eyes again, his gaze now considerably darker and more intense than it was moments ago.

“Your eyes are already telling me yes,” He muses, tilting your head up by your chin and staring you down. “I can see your body agrees,” Jaemin continues, trailing his hand down your front and tweaking your hardened nipple gently, grinning when you squeal and push your chest further into his hand. “Now I just want to hear that pretty mouth tell me how much you want it.”

FULL FIC POSTED HERE !!

#haechan smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #nct smut

769 notes · View notes

megukins · 3 years ago

Text

My Needy Little Birdie~

𓆩♡𓆪 Hawks x f!reader

𓆩♡𓆪 genre: smut, 18+

𓆩♡𓆪 synopsis: Keigo buys you a big box of chocolates for Valentine's Day, little did he know they were aphrodisiacs.

𓆩♡𓆪 a/n: This is my first time on here where I wrote for a different fandom. Enjoy!

𓆩♡𓆪 warnings: smut, mentions of aphrodisiacs, creampie, breeding kink, oral f & m receiving, foodplay, anal, mentions of pregnancy

𓆩♡𓆪 w/c: 1.5k

"Looks good to me. That's surprising." He says to himself, flying around near an alley making sure there's no suspicious activity going on.

He flies away to check other parts, but still sees nothing.

"That's weird, usually there's something going down around these parts."

He felt his phone ringing in his pants, startling him and flies down.

"Hello?"

"Keigoo…" You moan on the other line.

He clears his throat, his cock twitching in his pants a bit.

"Everything okay, baby?" He tries to hide his arousal.

"Mm! Horny, very horny! I need your fat cock inside of meee…" You stick a dildo inside you, riding it as if it were his.

"R-right now?" He gulps.

"Did you find anything, Hawks?" Endeavor approaches him.

"Nope! I uh-" He was stopped when he heard you moaning out his name again.

He groans, trying his hardest not to face Endeavor. He tried to hide the fact that his cock was strained tight against his pants. That'll be embarrassing for his comrade to see him in such a state.

"Please come home, nowww. I need to be full of your cum, Daddy Bird~"

You take the dildo, place it in your ass and stick three fingers in your pussy.

"I-I gotta go! Something important came up!" He tells Endeavor and flies away, a prominent blush on his face.

'What are you hiding, Hawks?'

"Do you remember what today is?" You say, hoping he remembers.

"Of course, baby, it's Valentine's Day. Why'd you ask?"

"Well, remember when you bought me those chocolates?"

"Yeahh. What are you getting at?"

"Those chocolates were aphrodisiacs." He stood there dumbfounded. He thought they were just regular plain ole chocolates.

'No wonder...' He felt guilty. "Did you eat all of them?"

"I couldn't help it! I just love chocolate and it was even better since there was caramel inside!"

"It's okay baby, I'll be home eventually."

"Please make it quick!" You whine.

The whole time he was flying, you sent him inappropriate messages, pictures, and videos of you. He tried his hardest to brush it off, but his pants only grew unreasonably tighter with each post.

"Honey, I'm home!" He shouts, which didn't do him any good.

He walks closer towards the kitchen, seeing you wearing a baby pink see through nightgown and red lingerie he bought you underneath, while holding whipped cream in your right hand.

"Come here, birdie~" You giggle at his actions.

He stands there, the noticeable bulge in his pants at a loss of words.

You set the whipped cream down. He walks closer to you to set you on top of the counter. He places small kisses on your cheek then neck, and goes lower towards your thighs, causing your face to heat up at how close he is to your heat. You push his face into it, humming at the feeling.

"You really missed me, huh?" He muffles.

You moan at the vibrations of his voice vibrating on your heat.

"Of course, 'missed you so much."

You move back some to take your gown off, soon following your thigh highs, garter belt and thong. He smirks at the little show you gave him. You push his face back into your heat, giggling a little at his tufts tickling your thighs.

"What's so funny?"

"Y-your hair is tickling my thighs."

You control yourself so he could work his magic. He lets his tongue roam around. You push his head in deeper, practically drowning inside your pussy from the wetness. Your toes curl, and you're a panting mess feeling close already. You give him no warning and cum on his face. He licks some more, all that was heard was his squelching and your mewls. He licks your clit making you cum instantly over his face once more.

"You taste so good."

He licks his face, drunk off your pussy. He felt like he could eat you out for hours and make as much cum you have splash all over his face. He unhooks your bra and grabs the whipped cream, spraying some on your hard nipples. He licks it off, sucking on your tits like a baby, savoring the taste to get the remains. He takes one of his feathers, toying with your buds. He takes another one sending it towards your wet walls.

"A-ahh, Keigoo~" It tickled to you a bit but at the same time sent pleasure.

He repeats these actions again once more on your globes again, then sprays some on your stomach, licking it up then goes to your thighs. He absolutely adores your thick thighs, he can't get enough of them. He nibbles on them then glides his tongue up.

"I-I should please you too."

You take his clothes off, accidentally brushing against his left wing when you took his jacket off, hearing him moan causing you to feel even more wet.

"Be careful. My wings are sensitive."

You smirk brushing his feathers once more, seeing his dick twitch as you did so. "B-baby quit teasing or else no sex." You whine and immediately stop. You grab the whipped cream and spray some on his toned abs. You lick them slowly making him shiver. You target his nipples, licking, biting, and sucking them. Next you go for his fingers, sucking them and moaning trying to get a rise out of him.

"You're gonna regret that, baby bird."

You use the rest of that whipped cream and spray it on his length and balls. You get on your knees, stuffing his dick in your mouth.

"O-oh god, that feels good!"

He pushes his length in deeper. You take your mouth off of it, hearing him complain. He carries you bridal style up the stairs and kicks the door open, placing you on the bed. He flips you over sticking his hard cock inside. You shove your head into the pillow to muffle your moans.

"Fuck I forgot how much I miss this…"

He tucks your hair back and nibbles on your ear, whispering all sorts of lewd things in it, the pillow now covered in saliva from your drooling. He nuts inside your ass, getting some on your cheeks when he pulled out.

"Please, stuff my cunt, daddy bird!" You whimper practically crying.

"With pleasure, my little birdie~"

He flips you on your back and holds onto the bedpost, fucking into you without hesitation. You wrap your arms around his neck, little moans and whines coming out of your mouth and grunts and growls coming out of his. His eyes wander to your tits jiggling simultaneously with his movements, making him cum instantly.

"F-fill me up some more…"

He rocks his hips faster, more of his juices splashing inside you. He moans at the feeling of your wet walls, throwing his head back and spills more of his seed inside you. He pulls out of you tiredly, never taking his eyes off you.

"How ya feeling?"

"Much better!" You smile.

"You know, if I had known those were aphrodisiacs, I would've came sooner."

"It's okay, I'm just glad you finally came. That dildo didn't help and going on Twitter made it even worse."

He scoops you up in his arms, his cock sticking in your ass, and nuzzles his nose on your neck.

"I'll have to find a way to explain to Endeavor-san tomorrow."

"I'm sure he'll understand."

You move one of his hands to squeeze your boob and the other inside your cunt, moving a bit to add friction.

"You want more?" He chuckles tiredly.

"Mhm!"

He laughs once more at your childlike behavior. He flips you off your side, positioning himself inside you.

"I love you." He plants kisses on you.

"Nngh, I love you more~" You moan out, his balls getting heavier at the erotic noise that slipped out of your mouth.

"D-do you want twins?"

You shake your head eagerly. He growls, emitting more of his nut in you.

He was a panting mess, sweat dripping over his facial features and toned abs. You push him down and smash your lips against him, both your tongues pushing against each other. He gropes your ass some to hear your beautiful moans once more. He pulls away, falling back and closes his eyes from the overwhelming tiredness. You smile at his peaceful features, pecking his forehead, and fell asleep right after him.

The next day you had a wet dream and wake up feeling horny again, but looked to see him nowhere in sight, remembering he was busy with work.

'Fuck.'

275 notes · View notes

hansolmates · 4 years ago

Text

shiver | 01 (m)

banner done by the wonderful @dnrequests

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment: touching over the clothes, mc is hornee, *pulls out cards against humanity* “a gentle caress of the inner thigh”, panty kissin, mc is a big ol’ pushover and hopeful for jkk:(( w/c; 1.9k a/n; it’s here! aaaaaa!!! i’ve been really eally realllyyyyyy nervous to post this. even though this is just a drabble series let me know how you feel about it! enjoy [shiver masterpost]

“Oh, you’re so dead.”

Jeon Jungkook isn’t thaaaat buff, he's more of a skinny kind of muscular. You don’t understand the hype, why everyone croons over Jungkook’s strength and physique. However, how else could you explain Jungkook being able to climb the currently dilapidated fire escape to the top floor of the chapel. The ladder is rusted beyond repair and is definitely a fire hazard rather than a fire escape. Yet he barely breaks a sweat doing it, and he wipes the minor sheen off his brow with the back of his hand. There’s some soot and whatever nasty residue from the fire escape that gets on his face, a black streak marring his already annoying face. He’s currently wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic “hello.” It makes you sneer, your two consciousness (inappropriate and appropriate) warring against each other to determine whether you still find this man attractive or not.

Convincing yourself that Jungkook is ugly is the worst quick-fix idea you’ve ever had.

The words of your Aunties, the family friends in the church, echo in your ears. Jungkook’s bad. They’d say over and over. It would cause you to snort and giggle, unable to imagine what sort of things he’s done to warrant such a cliché label. Yet some of the girls your age, girls that have gone off to college agree with sultry looks and longing eyes that yes, Jungkook’s bad. So bad, it’s good.

You haven’t a clue what he’s actually done to earn such a hushed title, his parents are lip-tight about his doings, unless it’s his achievements in the architecture graduate program. You hear things, though. Things that make you shamefully green with envy, envious of sin.

As soon as he finds proper footing in the storage room, he goes to the closet, immediately finding his backup clothes. They’re plain white button-downs, awkward long shirts with no shape or definition to them. They belong to the church, and no one ever uses them because they’re stiff and itchy. Yet Jungkook wears them like it’s tailored, and you have to look away when he quickly knots the bottom half of the shirt, fashioning it into a tasteful double knot in order to cinch his lean waist.

“Pretty sure it was just you that saw me,” Jungkook says dismissively, “so it’s fine.”

This bristles you the wrong way, and you put down the catering covers you were supposed to return to the storage room. You smooth out your Sunday dress, this shade of Boring Beige looking particularly pale in the morning sun. “How do you know I won’t tell?” you turn your nose up.

“Because I know,” he doesn’t even look at you, focusing on rolling the sleeves of his shirt. You weaken when you see the black shadowing across his forearm. That’s new, then again you haven’t seen him since last Christmas.

“Know what?”

“That you have a crush on me,” Jungkook says into the air like it’s common knowledge, adjusting the leather jacket on top of his outfit so the white-startched collar pops on top, “I mean, it’s hard for anyone not to know. You’ve been into me since youth group, Bunny.”

You hold your breath, counting to ten as you close the door behind you. A vision of you playing “Duck Duck Goose” as a five year old plays in your head, where you’d pick a bushy, big-eyed Jeon Jungkook each time, hopping over to him to pat his fluffy head so he’d chase you around.

It’s old news, your puppy love for Jungkook. How could you not like him? He's clever and sweet with his mother and always told the best stories in youth group meetings. Everyone thought your affections were so sweet, and while that attention weaned over time, your feelings have only increased the more self-aware you’ve become.

With a mind as open and honest is yours, it’s hard to ignore how well Jungkook has grown. What has also grown is your curiosities since the two of you have moved onto university. Jungkook goes to the university uptown, a far drive which only forces him attend masses during the holidays. You attended the local community college, wrapping up a bachelors in some vague major that you’re not attached to. You’re currently looking around for some graduate schools, but unfortunately you’ve been so wrapped up doing duties for Pastor Nina that you haven’t been able to look around properly.

Jungkook’s probably living a fun life, with the way he’s grown rough and loose, you resent him.

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s right in front of you, trapping you between his body and the door.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Bunny,” you furrow your brows, nearly growing cross-eyed when he leans in. “I think your crush is cute.”

You’re not sure what he thinks of you. Sure, he considered everyone a friend when you two were in youth group, but that was youth group. Premeditated, parents forcing other children to do the same things with each other for years upon years in the hope they’ll practice together forever and ever. Jungkook did not want that, evident from the way he dipped his duties as soon as he got into university.

You hate how easy he dips back into it though, calling you Bunny and making you feel like a little girl all over again. Bunny, because you’d hop around to him whenever he was in sight. Bunny, because Jungkook had been fondly compared to the wide-eyed, diamond-toothed creature. It was cute when you were five. Now, it’s just discomfiting.

“Don’t call me that,” you bite, “and I don’t like you anymore.”

“Sure you don’t,” he rolls his eyes, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand rests on the curve of your waist, fingers slotting themselves between the pleats of your skirt. “That’s why you’re not moving away when I’m about to put my hand under your skirt. Because you don’t like me.”

You press yourself further into the door, your skin hot and vibrating. So warm, you feel like you could melt through the door and escape from Jungkook’s gaze. Sure, the young ladies in the congregation talk. Maybe you’ve heard a story or two about Jungkook being seedy, a result of being repressed after years and years of stiff routines and expectations thrust upon him. You could care less about Jungkook’s sexual appetite, until this appetite has reached you.

“Mm, you’re pretty,” Jungkook’s eyes roam your form, the daisy white blouse doing nothing to barricade Jungkook’s sudden interest in you, “you’ve never been touched like this, have you?”

“I’ve touched myself like this,” you hiss in defense, and it’s more out of anger than in pleasure. You don’t need a man to comfort you, but Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in mirth at the new information.

“That’s really sexy,” Jungkook slips down, roams his fingers down to your ankles and plays with the silver buckles of your Mary Janes. You shiver when his hands trail up up up to your knees, the swell of your thighs, and catch right under the elastic seam that holds your secrets together, “but I’ll have you know, it’s different when you have someone hold your pleasure in their hands.”

You’re in the storage room of your church, fifteen minutes before the Christmas mass, with Jeon Jungkook’s head between your legs. Your skirt is long, and Jungkook doesn’t bother to ride it up your waist.

It feels more forbidden that way, Jungkook hiding under the fabric of your skirt to get to your honeyed center, sneaking his way in with rough hands and soft touches.

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper, pressing your full spine against the wooden door, “we shouldn’t. N-not like this.”

What is wrong with you? Is it sheer curiosity? Do you just want to know what it finally, finally feels like? You should be pushing him away. There’s red lights flashing back and forth in your brain like sirens. Yet, do you really want to turn away the attention you’ve been aching for years?

You imagined your first time to be relatively special. The bare minimum, a bed, a talk, and a partner you’re mutually committed to. None of those things are met. Now you understand why all the young women in church whisper about sex like this. It’s a spur of the moment, it’s an unbridled pleasure you don’t want to stop, no matter how forbidden and sinful the act is.

“How else then?” you feel his deep voice straight through your panties, his lips whispering between the pink cotton like he’s sinking liquid heat into your skin. “I can’t sink my fingers into your sweet cunt during the candle lighting. Or when we open presents with the family after. That would be inappropriate.”

Your replies come out in breaths, puffs of air that conceal the moans you so badly want to let out as Jungkook pokes and rubs at you. He does nothing beyond the cotton fabric, only slides two fingers up and down your slit as he gathers the arousal between his digits.

“So wet already, that’s so sexy,” he’s kissing your core, and you sigh fretfully at the pleasure that feels so close yet so far away.

“P-please, Jungkook…”

“Please what?” Jungkook teases, fingers slipping back and forth between the elastic of your underwear, “please stop? Please touch me? Please fuck me?”

The church bell answers that, and Jungkook’s nose knocks right into your bud at the sudden intrusion. You yelp at the jarring stimulation, pulling him from under your skirts as the loud noise echoes in the room. Both of you wince at the pain, the moment interjected.

“You first,” Jungkook casually opens the door for you, as if he didn’t have you ten seconds away from begging him to make you come.

You don’t even look at him as you dash away, not bothering to take the elevator in favor of running off the heat. Two minutes before the procession. The church is packed to the brim, only the back seats left. Your family probably gave up on waiting for you up in the front. As you sit down in the corner, you’re momentarily distracted by the beauty of a decorated church on Christmas. Even though you’re part of the decorating committee and commanded most of the design, seeing the stained glass lit up with fairy lights and the poinsettia plants blooming burgundy on the altar, you’re impressed.

“There’s a draft here, you must be cold.” Jungkook talks to you so politely, a perfect picture of a gentleman as he drapes his leather jacket over your lap. He speaks as if it’s a pleasant surprise, a childhood friend he hasn’t seen in nearly a year.

You can’t tell him to move when people are watching and Jungkook is seconds from interrupting the procession, so you reluctantly scoot over so he can sit next to you. His scent overwhelms you even more now that you’ll have to sit next to him for a whole hour, lavender and vanilla overtaking your pew.

The jacket is heavy and heady on your lap, and you force yourself to stare straight ahead. Jungkook cannot weaken you like this, not anymore.

Thirty minutes later, his fingers are hovering at the start of the homily, caressing your thighs under the jacket with his big hands. A draft? Please. You clamp your thighs together, knocking your knees and hoping they’d lock together for the rest of the mass. Jungkook’s a master key, easily parting his way as if your muscles are pure jelly. You turn your head sharply, glaring at him with all the fire in the world.

“Careful,” Jungkook mouths, eyes flickering to the symbol atop the podium, “he’s watching.”

His fingers finally brush the damp blush cotton of your panties, and you shudder.

#ficswithluv #btsguild #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook angst #bts angst #kpop fic #hansolmates

1K notes · View notes

unholytrinitytrio · 4 years ago

Text

“PLEASE YOU’RE TOO BIG!”

How would they react to being called big

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Word count: 2,309

Warnings: Lost of virginity, Kinda Non con on some parts, Mentions of alcohol consumption, Squirting, Overstim, Unprotected sex/ Rawing (don’t be silly wrap that willy)

DABI: TOUYA TODOROKI

Ever since you accidentally slipped to Dabi that you never had any sexual encounters before, he’d proudly claimed he’ll be the one to pop your cherry.

At first he just wanted to get under your skin, then it slowly changed to becoming a sort of challenge to him. He blames it’s because of your constant avoidance of topics related to sex and if you are somehow are caught up in a sex joke, your face contorts to that of disgust, after which prompts you to leave the room.

That or subjecting those people in a flurry of beat downs.

Not long after, you were now called the Queen of prudishness. But even Queens has their downfall, and Dabi swears he will be yours.

So when the time had come where he had you on his disheveled bed, awake, but greatly disoriented on your surroundings and barely able to form some coherent sentence from the alcohol you had consumed.

He almost threw a laughing fit when you weakly pushed him off of you while muttering about leaving you sleep in peace.

“Ya sure that’s your priority right now babe?” Dabi said while sitting on top you, his slimy paws on your dress shirt ready to unbutton them off your figure.

After successfully unbuttoning and removing said dress shirt he stopped dead in his track upon seeing your plain white bra. Shrugging his shoulders, he figured plain underwear suits you a lot. Though, he won’t say it out loud that it does adds a certain charm.

He shifted in his position before grabbing a hold of your jeans to slide them off of you, taking note of another set of plain underwear.

“Aww, sets of underwear for little ol’ me? I’m flattered y/n” he sarcastically remarked.

Throwing said pants behind him, he resumed his position on top of you holding one breast in his right hand the other hand went straight to your mouth. With his thumb, he tried prying your mouth open.

Still out of your wits end, you felt something, rather than someone, groping your left breast roughly. Letting out a whimper of discomfort, you felt another object, prying your mouth open.

Groaning in annoyance you let said object pry your mouth open hoping it would quit it’s objective once it had your lips unfastened with no resistance.

That was not the case though because as soon as Dabi sensed the last of your resistance withering from prying your lips open, he proceeded to shove two of his fingers inside.

Gagging a bit and moaning out in irritation from having your mouth violated by two long objects you tried biting it, albeit weakly. After which you proceeded to push it him out of your mouth using your tongue.

Opening your eyes to be greeted by a blur of black spiky figure you held unto said foreign object to try pulling it out of you.

It proved successful alright.

Successful in turning him on more.

Dabi let out a low groan of satisfaction before he removed his fingers from your mouth replacing it with his own. Sliding his tongue in easily, in replace of his fingers. He was pleasantly surprised when he can still taste a tangy fruit taste reminiscent of the spiked drink that was offered to you by one of the lower grunts whom was hoping to snag you for themselves instead.

He only stopped making out with you after he felt your nails feebly clawing at his chest.

Retracting his face with a drool connecting the two of you, he continued fondling one of your breast, letting his eyes roam your body underneath him while the other palmed at the growing erection behind his pants.

Satisfied with his eye candy he removed himself off of you and off the bed to remove his coat and shirt.

Hearing the rustling of clothes you felt some of your consciousness coming back. Lifting your head, the black blur you saw first,started to make sense. Judging by the drop in your body’s temperature accompanied by slimy feeling both on your upper lips and lower area. You knew that you were about to be fucked by some random dude with preference for dark clothing.

“Please don’t...”

Successfully unbuckling his belt, he removed both his pants and underwear. His cock, erected, standing tall in attention, he started walking back towards you upon hearing your pitiful please.

Feeling the bed creak slightly in protest upon being introduced with additional weight, you started to tremble at the thought of loosing it to some random stranger. You’d rather have someone else take it.

Someone who’s egoistical, pyromaniac maybe. You swear it doesn’t even make sense due to following reasons: (1) emotional attraction be damned and (2) any physically attraction were questionable. Anyway you just chalked it up that it was because he was the only male attention you ever gotten ever since you joined the LOV.

“Don’t wanna...” you said after you felt rough male hands, warmth hotter than comfortable dragging your hips closer to them. Before you felt him roughly parting your legs apart to better situate himself in between them.

You felt one of his hands grip your hip while you felt a hot pulsating object being dragged up and down between your lower lips. Shuddering in a mix of both arousal and uneasiness you once again tried to bargain with the stranger.

“Just be gentle...” you moaned out followed by “First...."

Of course Dabi knew that, he waited for this moment, wanting to quench his sadistic side by ramming himself deep inside of you without a care in world, you’ll be waking up with limp in your step for a whole week.

Grinning wickedly he tried inserting his cock inside you and yet to no avail, his cock kept sliding out of you.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance he tried again, only to find his cock slipping upwards accidentally stimulating your clit earning himself your moan.

“Lucky you...” you heard his raspy voice growl in annoyance before you felt him fold your pliant body. Your sex closer to his face before you felt him spit directly on it.

Letting out a sniffle you tried wiggling yourself once again, before you felt him tightened his hold on you. The warmth you once felt grew two times hotter as a warning.

You felt one of his finger enter you, and contrary to your will, you clenched against him.

“Shit...” you heard him curse before you felt another one of his finger enter you again scissoring you in a hurried manner, making you groan in a feeling of being cramped up.

After what felt like an hour of being prep by him, he lowered your body again you felt his pulsating member rubbing against you slick while his head lowered itself beside your ear breathing heavily.

Dabi retracted his hips slightly to rub his cock in his hand successfully spreading some of your wetness.

Guiding the head of his penis at your entrance he tried entering it a few times, satisfied that he was able to enter some centimeters a lot more easliy.

Grinning sinfully against your neck you heard him whisper.

“Better put your mouth to use princess, I love screamers in bed...”

“I don’t - I don’t”

You felt his chest rumbled in laugh of amusement.

“Does Dabi ring a bell?” he dropped his name satisfied with seeing your eyes and mouth widened in shock.

Or maybe it was because he suddenly entered your roughly with no warning.

“Fuucckk...” he cursed out after feeling your walls widen in desperation, attempting to accommodate just the head of his cock.

Arching your body in retaliation at the sudden intrusion and stretching of your unused entrance by his pulsating cock. Your eyes watered in pain. Letting out a series of broken cry only fueled his sadistic side.

Dabi on his sadistic streak, had tried moving his hips in and out of you, finding it a bit difficult

“Ah-..” you let out after his first thrust

“Ah-..” you moaned out again in pain

Your uncomfortable tightness at his member be damned. Seeing your broken face like these really takes the icing on a cake.

“Bi-ig...please too Big!” you plead out in a broken sentence timing with his hip thrusts.

Letting out a sadistic grinned so wide he swore one of his stapled lips were bleeding.

“Aww too much for you?” he mocked you, finding it a lot more amusing when you responded by nodding your head quickly back to him.

“Too bad that was only the half...”

‘HALF!-’ you looked back down in alarm and low and behold you saw half of his cock eagerly trying to get inside of you.

One hand holding on the headboard behind you while the other hand holding tightly on your thigh Dabi tried inserting the rest of himself inside by slowly thrusting inside of you starting a steady rhythm.

“Ahh...” Dabi let out a sigh of relief while throwing his head back a bit, letting you view his adam’s apple bobbing up and down while gulping for air.

Several minutes of moving inside you he finally felt something tap the head of his cock before looking down at you. Beads of sweat covering your body, hands tightly grasping the bed sheet.

“Ha, ha...atta girl” Dabi praised you patting you lightly on your cheek for taking him in oh so dearly.

“Mmm...” you moaned out grasping his wrist patting you, body still adjusting for taking him too soon.

Lowering his head Dabi caught your lips between his, before starting deep and long thrust letting you adjust to his size out of the goodness of his heart.

Bullshi-

Chuckling deeply beside your ear, finding it amusing whenever you tried catching your breath with every thrust of his hips, successfully knocking at the entrance of your cervix.

A mixture of pain and pleasure was what you felt. The burning sensation of being stretched beyond of what you were used to, while feeling pleasure whenever his pubic bone successfully knocking and grinding at your clit.

He continued his slow deep thrust just until he heard you let out a poorly disguised moan.

“???”

Abruptly stopping he straightened his back, slicking his hair back, looking back down at your adorably confused face, lifting both of your legs unto his shoulders.

Up until then he made sure you were taken care off, to an extent, so now you ought to hold the end of your bargain.

Dabi had the audacity to smile down at you before starting a brutal pace. One that had you arching your back off the bed, toes curling, while clutching at anywhere you could.

“Aha, Ah!” you let out a series of broken moan timing his harsh thrust.

“Mmhmm. just. like. that. cockwhore.” Dabi mocked you, words being punctuated by the thrust of his hips, lovingly staring at your fucked out face. Saliva dripping out at the corner of your mouth, eyes unfocused, and eyebrows knitted together from pain or pleasure he doesn’t care.

Licking his lips Dabi couldn’t stop staring at how your breasts bounce in time with his thrust and then lowering his gaze some more where his hips connects to yours. Watching in fascination where an obvious bulge shows itself every time he hits that one spot.

Sliding one his hand to cope the bulge you were sporting he groaned at the added pressure he felt.

“Look at you taking it like a good little cocksleeve you are”

‘Lo and behold amidst the feeling of embarrassment, you felt something inside of you tighten before cumming suddenly with his dick still inside of you.

Overwhelmed by the feeling you instinctively curled yourself drawing Dabi closer with you

A bit put off by the sudden tightness, Dabi stopped for a short second before removing your legs off his shoulders.

You were almost grateful for this if not for the fact that (1) he still hadn’t cum (2) the still pulsing dick inside of you and (3) he had intimately caged you inside his arms, successfully making his hips closer to yours.

”It’s rude to cum with no warning, you almost me made cum on the spot too bitch” his hands grasped your neck threateningly, before he restarted pistoning again inside of you trying to catch the same high he had before you rudely interrupted by cumming, making it almost impossible to thrust inside of you without the feeling of discomfort.

Whimpering pathetically at the overstimulation, while trying to keep your sanity by flailing your hands everywhere finding purchase before grasping the pillow beside your head, you tried hugging it close to your body.

“Ple-pwease break...just give me a break....it hurts Dwabi” your tongue lolled itself out. Mind hazed with pure bliss, pain bordering.

“Aww Dwabi? Really? That the best you got?” he scorned at you slamming his hips harder against you letting your body slid against the bed sheets before letting out a moan when he felt warm liquid squirting wetting his thighs and lower abdomen.

“Damn you really squirted?” he panted above you.

“Noo nooo more...pwe-pweaseee...” your eyes rolled back at your head, body rubbing against Dabi’s body.

You felt him pulled you closer, biting your shoulders hiding his moan, before stilling his hips. You felt hot liquid spurting inside of you before spilling below you, pooling at the mixed cum of his and yours, escaping his dick still plugged inside of you.

He groaned a bit grinding his hips lazily against you, he felt your thighs twitch, kissing your shoulders lovingly. He rested his head at your breast looking upwards at your face finding that you already lost consciousness.

Removing one of his ring finger to put at your thumb. He grinned in triumphant.

Congrats you earned yourself a title from being known as “Queen of prudishness” to “Dabi’s Bitch”

AN: Please I cannot this took literal days to write. It was supposed to be all the three of them but it just went out of control.😭 😭

#bnha imagines #mha imagines #dabi x reader #dabi thirst #dabi headcanons #bnha reader insert #mha reader insert #unholytrinitytrio #beaniewritesdabi

478 notes · View notes

quentinbecks · 3 years ago

Text

Prompts: Combined “Let me fuck the stress out of you.” from @bleudragonfire & “wired” from @chyrstis for this one. Hope that’s okay!

Words: 2.4 k

Warnings: It’s a total smut piece from start to finish, so that should be warning enough, but there’s (female) oral sex, full on fucking, and light spanking at the end there. There’s also a lot of verbal teasing in this and I do mean a lot.

Hi, this is just me trying to get back into the habit of writing smut again since it’s getting close to that time in stillness in woe. This isn’t proofread except for @johnnycranes reading a very early rough draft of this (thank you 😘). Sorry for any errors of just plain ol’ sloppy writing lmao. I just wanted to write a little something for these two needy hoes, so this is incredibly self-indulgent.

Charlie can’t sleep. The young woman is absolutely wired. Not because she had drank too much coffee or because her adrenaline was pumping. No, Charlie’s body was abuzz with arousal; the girl was too damn horny to go to sleep.

John had been so busy the last few days; too busy to do more than give her a quick kiss on the lips before he headed to the bunker. He had managed to acquire a plethora of new properties for some of the families higher up in the project to reside in; a gift for the most pious amongst them.

The Baptist is currently going over paperwork as he lies in bed; one hand playing with her hair, the other flipping through deed transfers. Usually Charlie would enjoy this; his body heat and his scent alone would knock her out. But not tonight.

Tonight she wants attention, no matter how selfish she may come off as. Shifting closer, Charlie begins to plant soft kisses along his shoulder; her fingers toying with the drawstring on his lounge pants.

“What are you doing, Charlene?” John’s voice is thick with exhaustion; the current huskiness not helping her predicament whatsoever.

“Just wanna help you relax,” Charlie purrs in his ear before placing a little nibble to the lobe.

“And how do you plan on doing that?,” he asks, lifting his chin to give her more access to his neck.

Not even bothering to look up from attacking his neck with her tongue and teeth, Charlie blindly snatches the papers out of his hand. Stretching her arm over John, she tries desperately not to mess up his hard work. Unfortunately, she has to move her attention from her main goal to do so.

As she leans over him, Charlie feels fingers run down her side until they grab a hold of her thigh, hoisting a leg over him until she’s straddling John. “I swore I asked you a question, Charlie.”

“Well,” she says, grinding down onto him to feel a hardness press against her, “You could let me fuck the stress out of you.”

“How selfless of you,” John hisses out as she circles her hips. “And to think I thought you were doing this out of pure neediness.”

Charlie leans down until her lips are hovering just above his own. “How could I not be needy when you care more about the happiness of strangers more than you care about mine?”

“Such a selfish little brat.”

“You love it, though.” Not even bothering to wait for a response, the brunette presses her lips against his. They’re soft and familiar, but no matter how many times she’s tasted him she still craves more.

Charlie lets out a whine as his fingers dig into her hips, the parting of her lips allowing John to slide his tongue against hers. She feels him take a hold of her black slip; hands sliding the silky material up and off her body.

The Baptist lets out a tsk as he takes in her bare form. “Look at you. Completely naked underneath,” he teases as he runs his hands up her sides, stopping to rub his thumb over a nipple; smirking at the way it hardens under his touch. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you planned this.”

Sitting up, John replaces the digit with his mouth, flicking his tongue against one while his other hand massages the opposite breast. Crying out, Charlie can feel herself begin to involuntarily rock against him, body begging for some friction.

Admittedly, the young woman can’t help but feel slight disappointment as she feels John’s lips begin to suck on her collarbone. Tonight was the night that she was going to worship his body, but she can’t help how greedily she devours the attention anyway.

“John,” Charlie whimpers, “I want to take care of you.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he smiles against her skin, “but look at you.” John begins kissing up her neck, giving a small bite to the spot below her pulse point that elicits an almost feral whine. “You’re so fucking desperate for me. Let me take care of you first.”

Pulling Charlie down into a bruising kiss, he lays them back on the bed. Once fully down, John begins sliding underneath her, kissing down her torso as he pulls her thighs up towards his face.

“What are you doing?”

Stopping at the apex of her thighs, John peers up at her. “What does it look like I’m doing? You wanted me to relax and that’s what I’m trying to do.” With that, he slides fully underneath her.

Charlie shudders as he runs a finger up her slit. “Jesus, you’re so wet for me. Maybe I should pay more attention to the project more often.”

“Don’t you-,” she stutters out as John’s tongue begins slowly lapping at her folds, “don’t you fucking dare.”

The Baptist gives her a small smirk before pulling her down closer to his face, letting out a groan as she settles onto him. The sound encourages Charlie to start slowly riding his face, reaching out to hold onto the headboard to keep herself steady.

John licks an agonizingly slow trail up to her clit, stopping to give a soft suck once he reaches his destination. “Please,” she pants out, “faster.”

“You need to be patient, darling,” he says, pulling away to plant a bite to her inner thigh. “But, I'll be generous and give you what you want.”

Charlie’s lifted up just enough for John to slide two digits inside of her. Keeping to his word, he curls his fingers, beginning a steady pump. Lowering herself back down, the young woman lets out a small cry as she feels his tongue begin to keep up pace with his ministrations.

She didn’t really realize how long it had been since they had done more than briefly touch until now. It doesn’t help that she has John devouring her like a starved man. It’s almost too much.

Picking up her own pace, Charlie begins to grind against him faster; one hand still on the headboard as the other goes to grip the dark hair beneath her. Moans start to spill from her lips as she feels the coil in her belly tighten.

Blue eyes peer up at her as she begins to thrash against his lips. “Let me hear you, sweetheart,” John all but commands, running his thumb against her clit to draw out a reaction. “You know the walls are thick.”

All Charlie can do is nod in response, beginning to rock her hips faster. The bed frame begins to smack against the wall with her movements, the sound making her doubt the validity of how soundproof the walls actually are. But she finds herself not caring whether or not their chosen can hear her getting off.

Underneath her John begins to moan lewdly; the vibrations against her clit sends her spiraling. “I’m so close,” Charlie all but whines. She’s given no response except for a hum against her core.

“John,” she cries a little too loudly.

Charlie’s whole body trembles as she comes; thrusting slowly against lips and beard until she can’t take it anymore. Shakily, she slithers down her partner’s body until she’s laying atop him.

“Thank you, baby,” the young woman says, planting a soft kiss on his lips. A hand comes up to cup her cheek, tilting her head to deepen the kiss; the other hand pressing her down against him to feel how hard he is.

“See? Isn’t this better than staring at paperwork all night?,” she asks as she begins to kiss down his neck, stopping to suck on his collarbone.

“Not sure my brother or the members who are waiting on these houses will agree.”

“Hmmm…,” Charlie mumbles into his chest, hands beginning to tug at the elastic of his pants. “They sound boring.”

John lifts his hips, allowing her to pull the loungewear off of him. She goes to eagerly toss a leg over him when a hand stops her. “Hey!,” she cries out as she’s flipped over onto silk sheets.

“Darling, you almost broke the bed just now.” John peers down at her, blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “I’m flattered, but I think maybe you should lay back and let me take care of you.”

Reaching up to stroke his face, Charlie gives him a small pout. “How selfless of you,” she replies sarcastically, harkening back to what he said earlier.

A smirk is thrown her way before John spreads her legs to settle in between. “So fucking pretty,” he says, eyeing her body hungrily. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Fuck me?,” she suggests.

Green eyes watch eagerly as he hooks one of her legs over his shoulder. Charlie can feel him press against her core as he leans down, planting kisses to her jaw. “I think I can do that for you,” he murmurs against her skin.

John rubs himself against her before finally pushing himself inside, letting out a hiss at the feeling. “God, you’re always so tight.” He sinks his teeth into her throat before slowly beginning to thrust his hips.

Charlie lets out a whine, digging her nails into his biceps. She loves that she has this effect on him; that she can unravel him with just the feel of her body. Wrapping her free leg around his waist, she brings him closer; wanting to feel him even deeper.

“Feels so good,” the brunette mewls. But his cock isn’t enough for her, not at the lazy pace he’s fucking into her. Sliding a hand beneath them, she begins to rub circles onto her clit, trying to keep up the same rhythm.

But, of course, John won’t have any of that; not particularly a fan of her trying to get herself off when he’s there. Charlie goes to protest as he stops, gathering both of her hands to hold above her head. She’s silenced by a hard kiss against her lips.

“Bad girl, Charlene. I told you I would take care of you.”

He gives a nip to her lips before bringing his own hand down to where hers had been. His thrusts become more rough after that, as does the pressure he applies against her bundle of nerves.

“Oh, fuck,” she cries out. The faster pace feels dizzying and she’s already over sensitive from the previous orgasm. Charlie feels herself begin to tighten around John, mindless chants of “please” and “yes” begin to fall from her lips.

It takes less than a minute for her to come again, writhing around on the bed as much as she can with her upper half held down and a leg in the air. John kisses her through her come down, smiling as she mutters praises against his lips.

“Please let me fuck you,” Charlie mumbles tiredly. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Charlie…”

“Please?,” she pouts. From this angle she looks sweet; honeyed waves in a halo around her face and a plump lip puckered out. So sweet John can’t help but relent, dropping her thigh so he can lay back on the bed.

Pleased at getting her way, Charlie practically leaps on top of him, immediately taking him inside of her. Leaning forward, she cages his head between her hands. “Time for me to get you off.”

“You already were.”

John’s hand kneads her ass as she begins to grind down slowly on him. She plants a chaste kiss to his lips before sitting up and leaning back to ride him. Charlie’s movements are slow and steady, never taking her eyes off of the man below her.

“God, just like that, sweetheart,” he groans, bringing a hand up to pinch a nipple. “You always take me so well.”

Smiling down at him, she grabs the fingers that had been previously playing with her breast, bringing them to her mouth . “No one can fuck you like I can,” she reminds him before slipping the digits past her lips.

John would agree with her if he wasn’t so focused on chasing his own pleasure. The two know each other’s bodies so intimately; know their wants and desires. But no matter the familiarity, neither of them have become bored with each other, especially when there’s always something new to discover about the other.

Charlie can feel that he’s close now from the way he grabs her hips, bouncing her at a rhythm to his liking. “Come on, baby,” she pants out. “Come for me.”

“Charlie,” John pleads, “please…” Grabbing her locks he pulls her back down to him as he moans into her mouth. Coming down, he mumbles her name like a litany against her lips. From this position, she can feel both their heartbeats hammering away almost in sync.

“Are you still stressed?”

John gives a breathy laugh underneath her. “No, you successfully fucked it out of me.” Flipping her onto her back, he reaches across the bed to grab a pillow.

“You look tired,” he says as he gazes down at Charlie; her green eyes hazy and a dreamy look on her face. Placing the pillow beneath her head, he gets up in search of his clothes.

“Of course, I’m sleepy,” she murmurs as she rolls onto her belly, eyes already starting to flutter shut. The respite doesn’t last very long as there’s a thwack to her ass.

“You better rest while you can, Princess because I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Charlie rolls onto her side with a huff. She watches as John, now fully dressed, collects the paperwork she messily left on the nightstand. “Where are you going?”

“To finish this without you distracting me.” He leans over the bed, brushing her unkempt hair off of her face. “We’ll continue this when I get back.”

Nodding her head, Charlie leans up a bit, planting a kiss to his neck; the scent of leather and sweat already making her eager for his return.

“I’ll be waiting.”

#ship: all sins lead to you #oc: charlie berger #john seed #nsft #my writing

29 notes · View notes

jovnie · 3 years ago

Text

PRETTY LITTLE THING| Namjoon

Requested

Summary

He loved every part of your body, however, he couldn't keep his hands off your ass when he saw the view in the reflection of the tv

Words 1.5k yes ,I'm teasing you here

Namjoon established relationship!

Warnings; PWP, Smut, Slapping, griping, Roping, marking, riding, dirty talk, Big dick joon, creaming,

With the blinds in the apartment turned open, you straddled on your husband's lap tightly. With your head laid on his shoulder, you looked out the blinds to see the thunder rawr out the window. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply. Meanwhile, namjoon moved his hands around your back hugging you softly as the two of you sat in silence.

Kissing your neck softly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked in the reflection of the tv in front of you two. With the view of your ass arched softly, he smiled looking more at the view. You had on gray panties that fitted snugg around ass, giving it the perfect shape as it protrudes out. His eyes lowered seeing the way it looked with his plain black boxers that roade up his thigh. With a quick breathe out, he moved his hands to cup your ass and give them a big ole squeeze. With his warm hands on your ass you giggled slightly in his ear.

"What's so funny now?"he asked, squeezing each cheek gently.

"Nothing besides the way your hands feel on my ass" you informed, leaning up to look him in his eyes. Grinning, he looked up and moved in for a kiss. Kissing back you brushed softy.

"Well there's a lot more I can do with that, of you want of course. Like grinding up against it" he told, leaning back a big and moving his up into yours as he grinded softly into your heat. Moving your arms around his neck, you looked down at him bitting your lower lip.

"I could do a lot for you want me to" he mentioned, flashing that smile of his to simply catch you off guard. Looking down, you thought about it and looked back onto his deep.brown eyes.

"Tell me as you do it" you agreed, as your heart began besting a bit faster. Nodding, he rubbed your back and pushed your legs wider apart with his own thighs.

"I could grope it" he smirked, taking your ass into his hands roughly ss he gripped and kneeded his gaint hands onto them. Nodding, you closed your eyes enjoying the feeling.

"Spank it" he added, taking his palm and back it far away to slap it hard enough to make you squeal.

"I like that one" you told, laying back down on his shoulder. Huffing out a laugh, he agreed.

"Well I can smack your ass till you cum if you want, but I can't my cock deep on you of deciding so. I wanna feel your bare ass too" he suggested waiting for an answer. Humming in thought, you nodded. With immediate response, he took of his underwear and then helped you slip out of yours.

"Mind if you grind on you to get us in the mood?" He questioned, spanking your ass softly with his right hand. Nodding no, he continued by moving your hips back and forth on his limp cock. As your hips pushed softly down on his length, he looked back in the reflection of the mirror to watch another view of your ass softly jiggling as he spanked you. With a lick of his lips, he took your ass and bounced it softly in his hands gripping his nails onto the meaty part of his ass.

"The shit I'd do to see my cum drip down the sides of your ass baby" he grunted, slapping your ass before you decided to just shake it for him as he watched your cheeks smack against the other one.

"Fuck!~" he moaned aloud, feeling his length hardened and push up not just against your slit but your cheeks as they bounced against it. The more you pushed up against hsic cock, the more he grabbed and slapped your ass as you dripped down on his cock.

"Please namjoon~" you whined, throbing softly on top of him as his hands spanked you hard enough to watch your ass jiggle in response. Sore to the touch you whimpered in his ear, holding onto his shoulders.

"You know the drill" he smirked as you nodded in his shoulders. Holding onto him, you closed your eyes hissing in slight pain as he slowly entered your pussy. Moaning on Que to the stretching, you bit his neck gently to single to keep going. Grabbing your ass he softly moved you up and down his length letting it coat the fee inches he was able to fit in before trying to push for more. Kissing your neck to stimulate you more to increase your arousal on him, you moaned in your mouth closing them harder as you felt him stretch you out.

"That's daddy's girl, keep taking more of me" he moaned in pleasure, whilst feeling you take another inch making it 7. biting your lip as he said that your soft moaning in his ear made things feel so much better. He found it cute how you held in your moans, but not your breathing. Rubbing your back again, he allowed you to adjust to his size. Meanwhile, he came to your ear to say a few things.

"There you go baby, you're making my cock so well. Fuck your ass feels so good in my hands" he grunted, slapping your ass to grip it. Moaning, your body softy shook as you pushed your body to take another inch, making it 8 inches.

"Is so big!~" you cried, gripping on his shoulder tightly as you moved your hips up and down him some more.

"I know baby, you're squeezing my cock so much, baby. Fuck!" He cursed, taking your ass and squishing it together and letting it go to bounce. Watching your ass bounce in the go-to reflection, namjoon laid back and let your pussy grip and clench on him as cries of pleasure filled his ears. Moving his head back in pleasure, his eyes closed shut and hands placed on your ass.

"Yes, like that baby. Go faster on me baby!" He asked, hearing your breath fastened on him as you bounced up and down. Groaning in repose, he opened his eyes to see in the tv mirror that you were starting to cream on him. Watching your ass for the millionth time, he simply moved his face to your neck and began kissing that one spot on your neck that drove you crazy when he did suck on it. Hearing you cry his name, your thighs became weak as he kissed, sucked and marked that once spot.

"Namjoon, you're making me weak..please~" you moaned. Chuckling softly, he held onto your back and legs and tried lifting you.

"Then let's take this into the bedroom" he suggested, carrying you off.

#bts fanfction #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fics #bts #kim namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon

20 notes · View notes

musings-of-a-19yr-old · 3 years ago

Text

WELCOME TO #IMANI’S MUSINGS!

Welcome to Imani’s Musings; your #1 social commentary! You heard it here first(😉). From your host, ME; a self-inflicted outsider looking in, someone who is more often than not guilty of being a teensy bit too passive in her approach to life; someone who rather than get in on all the action, ‘prefers’ to watch ‘safely’ from the sidelines. In truth maybe it’s because I’m a little too scared to go out into the real world and fully immerse myself in the land of the living. Maybe because I’m terrified of rolling the dice every single day to see which experience I’ll have to settle for today; beauty? joy? pain? an up or down? a high or low? failure? success? Love? Hate? Adoration or Discrimination? The good, the bad, or the ugly? Will it be a dream come true day, a nightmare when it rains it pours day, a meh day, or all of them wrapped into one day?

So I limit myself to watching life from the sidelines, isolating myself, withdrawing from the rest of the world, and retreating into the cocoon of my imagination fearful of being rejected, of being told my screwball personality, and wear-my-heart-on-my-sleeve countenance are too messy, too awkward, too much to handle.

Interestingly enough, I have found comfort in writing, journaling, and using Plain-Ol words to create depth, meaning, belonging, nostalgia, and most importantly hope! Hope that I will one day be able to overcome the inertia with which I currently approach my life. The process of arousing the suppressed feelings buried deep within me, pooling together the most random collection of words to develop a stream of consciousness that adequately captures my inner turmoil, fills me with sweet cathartic relief, to say the least. Thankfully it also helps my over-active, hypersensitive, HSP brain to cope with the extra-loud, sometimes hostile, in-your-face, and confrontational physical environment by allowing me to break down the countless bits of overwhelming sensory information mercilessly flung my way, each and every day by the real world, into smaller digestible pieces. Interestingly enough this recently re-discovered hobby has become the source of my empowerment, my strength! My means of communicating with the outside world, my way of interacting with my fellow human beings who I yearn to connect with so dearly, to love, exchange camaraderie with, laugh with, hold hands with, hug, and share the deepest parts of myself with. BUT but who are more often than not put off by the aloof, reserved mask of shyness that I put on to shield my sensitive, introverted, spirited, idealistic soul.

The words on the page give me a voice, who would’ve thought that my imagination would be the key to unearthing this newfound feeling of confidence, that was previously so foreign to me. When I write I’m no longer the timid, socially awkward girl struggling to live up to the demands and pressures of our fast-paced, ever-changing, technology-reliant, 21st-century social life, I’m no longer an outsider looking in, I’m just your resident wordsmith, romanticist, screwball, HSP, young at heart but an old soul, overthinking-insomniac, with a wear-my-heart-on-my-sleeve countenance. It’s a lot, I know.🙈🙈🙈

Just kidding😅. Slowly but surely writing is helping me to not only discover myself but also to appreciate this person that I am discovering myself to be, instead of chasing this idealized image of perfection that I have in my head of who I think I am supposed to be. Most importantly I have discovered that only by laying bare my soul for all to see, only by showing glimpses of vulnerability, only by admitting to others that I am flawed, as counter-intuitive as it may seem will people ever truly love me. (Not the mask I put on for them to see, or an idealized image they have in their heads of me, but the real, unwavering ME!).

Moreover, I have learned that as different as we all may seem, on the inside you and I are similar as can be quite literally! we are all souls housed in a body of cells and matter, we all bleed red, and we are all kept alive by our hearts beating on average 60 to seventy times per minute. We are also very similar in the more abstract sense of our need for touch, human connection, love, and affection, we all fear rejection, failure, and the thought of suppressing our true selves our entire lives in order to fit into the societal definition of what is acceptable, being unwanted, cast aside or shunned by our neighbors, countrymen, families, and peers, we all tremble at the thought of never finding our purpose, of floating through life feeling irrelevant, of not mattering, of not making an impact, at the thought of being instantly forgotten the moment we step out of a room, or worse yet being seemingly invisible the moment we step into the room, going through life without someone ever acknowledging our existence.

The point is I think it’s time for me to let my guard down, come out of my shell and you know start to explore the possibilities that life has to offer, my purpose, and potential paths for my future, cause if not now, at 19yrs of age (during my youth; the supposed prime of my life) then when!!! Anyway, I have decided to give this living life to the fullest thing a go more often and this blog is my way of inviting you along with me on my journey, letting my guard down, opening up, and, showing off my writing skills, if at all I have any😬😬😅

P/S: Your welcome!😏🙃😝

TTYL!!!!!

BYE FOR NOW👋😉

SO GLAD I GOT THAT OFF MY CHEST, Phew!!!😅😊

#self reflection #writers on tumblr #why am i like this #can anybody relate?#my notes #love yourself #empowereachother #live laugh love #my quirks #blackgirlmagic imani'smusings musingsofa19yrold

6 notes · View notes

mcmansionhell · 5 years ago

Text

The Brutalism Post, Part 2: What Brutalism is Not

Why open a series about Brutalism by discussing what is not Brutalism? The answer is simple: of all of the terms in the history of architecture, Brutalism is perhaps the most misused and misunderstood by the general public.

Pictured: Citizens Bank Tower, 1958-66. Not Brutalism (it’s just plain ol’ International Style modernism). Source

The main issue here, as we will discuss later, is not that people are ignorant for using the wrong definition of the word Brutalism, but that the word Brutalism has come to mean or refer to a variety of architectural phenomena that are linked to one another via overarching similarities, the most important being an expanded set of buildings that elicit a specific emotional response in the viewer.

“Brutalism”, a specific architectural movement with its own ideology and history, has come to encompass a wide range of colloquial meanings. Some of these meanings are common misconceptions that reflect a need for broader architectural education (the purpose of this series), and some of these meanings reflect a deeper, more philosophical, interrogation into how we perceive and discuss architecture and the complex emotions it arouses within us, exposing a need for new means of communicating a common architectural sentiment.

Let’s start with the most common misuse of the term.

Brutalism is not: every single building made primarily of reinforced concrete.

Blame this one on the dictionary. The term Brutalism, while being derived from the French term beton brut, meaning raw concrete, does not apply to all buildings made from reinforced concrete. Developed in the 1870s, reinforced concrete is one of the most commonly used building materials in the world. Because of its inexpensive price, its structural integrity, and its ability to be cast into a variety of shapes and forms, many buildings were - and continue to be - made from it.

Let’s look at three examples of buildings I have found labeled “brutalist” in various places.

Not Brutalism: (from left to right): Tadao Ando, Vitra Conference Center (1993) Photo by Wojtek Gurak (CC BY NC 2.0); Le Corbusier, Villa Savoye (1929) Photo by Scarlet Green (CC BY 2.0); Albert Kahn, Highland Park Ford Factory (1910) Photo by Thomas Hawk (CC BY NC 2.0)

All of these buildings are constructed primarily from reinforced concrete. As you can see, they are all very, very different from one another. In these three cases, the key piece of information discrediting these buildings as being Brutalist is when they were built. Brutalism was a specific architectural movement from spanning a defined period of time (1940s-late 1970s). Buildings constructed outside of this time window are rather unlikely to be Brutalist.

Let’s look at why these buildings might be mislabeled brutalist.

Our first example is the Vitra Conference Center by Tadao Ando, which was built in 1993. Even though 1993 is far outside the time frame that brutalism spanned, this building has many characteristics that are “brutalistic,” specifically its extensive use of unpainted reinforced concrete, its heavy, geometric massing, and its intense visual weight. Ando’s architecture falls under the term “critical regionalism” - which is best understood as being modern in form (but not in dogma), with a heightened focus on the surrounding ecology and landscape as well as other geographical, cultural, and social contexts.

The Villa Savoye by Le Corbusier, finished in 1929, is one of the most iconic 20th century houses and works of modernist architecture in the world. This house, though made of reinforced concrete, belongs to the movement known as the International Style, which was developed in Western Europe after World War I, is known for its rejection of ornament, flat surfaces (especially roofs), extensive use of glass, and visually lightweight and repetitive forms. While the International Style makes use of concrete, it differs from Brutalism in its visual lightness - the Villa Savoye seems to float effortlessly above the landscape - very unlike Brutalist architecture, which is characterized by its massive scale, hulking forms and visual heaviness.

The Highland Park Ford Plant, built in 1910 by noted factory architect Albert Kahn, was once the premiere factory building in America, helping to advance not only the Fordist system, but the city of Detroit, Michigan as being the automobile capital of the world. It is a touchstone of factory design, notable for its pioneering use of the assembly line to facilitate mass production, a concept that remains central to factory design today. Although made of reinforced concrete, the Highland Park plant is not a brutalist building. It frequently is mischaracterized as being brutalist because of its massive side, imposing features, and the close association that has developed between brutalist architecture and urban exploration photography (More on this later).

TL;DR: All brutalist buildings are made of reinforced concrete (or heavy masonry), but not all reinforced concrete buildings are brutalist. Moving on.

Brutalism is not a catch-all term for Late Modernist architecture

Architecture got so weird and complicated in the period from the 1960s through the early 1980s that it inspired the architectural theorist Charles Jencks to create the first of several delightful and mind-bending charts to try and categorize it:

Yeah.

What is Late Modernism? The concise definition is that it is an umbrella term encompassing the various architectural movements that transpired after International Style/Mid-Century Modernism but before Postmodernism. (For more on what Late Modernism is and why you should care, see my post from 2016.) Brutalism elides with Late Modernism, but not all Late Modern buildings are Brutalist. Because Brutalism is contemporaneous with Late Modernism, the distinction can be confusing. Often the case is that Late Modern buildings that are described as ‘Brutalist’ should be recategorized or reassigned to a different, equally obscure and hyper-specific architectural sub-movement happening around the same time. This might seem nitpicky, but look on the bright side: now you get to correct your friends.

Late Modernism encompassed a lot of smaller architectural movements, most, but not all of them ending in -ism. Some, like Brutalism and High Tech, are more well known; others, like Metabolism, Structuralism, Critical Realism, and Neo-expressionism, not so much. Some buildings don’t fit into any of these categories and must (frustratingly) be referred to as simply “Late Modern” or “Transitional” (referring to the transition from Modernism to Postmodernism.)

Here are three Late Modern buildings that are not Brutalist:

Left: Richard Rogers, Lloyd’s Building (1986) Photo by Lloyd’s Insurance (CC BY 2.5); Top Right: Kisho Kurakawa Nakagin Capsule Tower (1972) Photo by scarletgreen (CC BY 2.0); Bottom Right: Herman Hertzberger, Centraal Baheer (1972) Photo by Apdency (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Lloyd’s Building, the headquarters of Lloyd’s of London, located in, unsurprisingly, London, was designed by Richard Rogers and completed in 1986. Despite the relative lack of reinforced concrete, the building is frequently categorized as being Brutalist. The fact that it lacks reinforced concrete as a defining architectural feature is all one needs to eliminate Lloyd’s from the Brutalism category - why it is put there in the first place we will discuss more in depth in the next section of this post. Lloyd’s - along with most of Rogers’ work - is part of the architectural movement known as “High Tech” because it is, well, High Tech.

High Tech buildings are the apogee of the modernist mindset in terms of glorifying the functions of a building and the technological elements of structural engineering. They take what are usually internal systems such as structural frames, circulation systems (such as stairs and elevators) and services (electrical, plumbing, etc) and integrate them into their external architectural form. (Lloyd’s is colloquially known by Londoners as the “inside out building”). High Tech was relatively short lived because it turns out that when you decorate the outside of your building with its internal services, when winter comes, your water pipes, exposed to the elements, tend to freeze.

The Nakagin Capsule Tower, built in 1972 by Japanese architect Kisho Kurakawa (one of my favorite architects ever who more people should know about), is one of the buildings most commonly labeled as Brutalist. This building illustrates the gray area that arises when one uses vague aesthetic attributes (concrete, visually heavy, geometric massing) to designate a building as Brutalist instead of the actual history and context of the building in question. The Nakagin Capsule Tower belongs to a different (if coexistent) architectural movement that, frankly is a lot weirder than Brutalism: Metabolism. Take the formal concept of organic biological growth and systems and combine it with the urbanistic concept of megastructures (an entire city contained in a single continuous structure or via several interconnecting structures) and you get Metabolism. Because of the practical issues with building an entire city within a single building, Metabolism lived mostly on paper, however a few built examples were executed, the most famous being the Nakagin Capsule Tower.

The Centraal Baheer office building was built by Dutch architect Herman Hertzberger in 1972. Like the Nakagin Capsule Tower, it satisfies many of the aesthetic signifiers commonly attributed to Brutalism: it’s made of reinforced concrete, composed of large geometric massing, and it’s visually heavy. Also like the Nakagin Capsule Tower, it belongs to a different, coexisting architectural movement, primarily developed by the Dutch, called Structuralism. Structuralism is a complex set of architectural ideologies developed in the 1960s and 70s, centered around a few key concepts: the rationalist idea that people’s behavior can be directly changed (or manipulated) via design; designing built structures that correspond in form to social structures; an emphasis on cultural and geographical context; an urbanism and design approach based, like Metabolism, on a biological growth analogy (called Aesthetics of Number); the integration of a variety of uses and programs within the same overall structure; and, finally, the aim to architecturally reconcile the needs of both “high” and “low” culture.

Brutalism, Metabolism, and Structuralism arose from a similar origin, and are ideologically more alike than different, something we will talk about in the next installment of this series.

Brutalism is not a feeling.

But also, it kind of is. It is, as the folks say, “a big mood.” A large reason why buildings are incorrectly labeled Brutalist is because they bring forth a very specific emotional response to architecture shared by many people across the world. Some of the buildings that cause people to feel this complex and nuanced set of emotional and aesthetic reactions are, in fact, Brutalist, but many are not. To me, what this demonstrates, is a broader need for architectural education and discourse that goes beyond the most common system for classifying architecture: stylistic labels.

To talk about this, we’ll bring back Lloyd’s Building, Kahn’s factory and present it alongside a few other examples.

Left to Right: John M Johanson, Stage Center Oklahoma City (1979) Photographer unknown; Yuri Platonov, Russian Academy of Sciences (1968) Photo by Raita (CC BY 2.0); Boris Magasto, Haludovo Hotel, Krk, Croatia (1972) Photographer unknown; Kevin Roche, The Pyramids (1972) Photo by jikatu (CC BY SA 2.0)

All of these buildings (and all of the photographs of these buildings) are very different from one another, and yet, they have all been classified mistakenly as being “Brutalism.” The only real link between them is emotion.

Like many folks in the late aughts/early 2010s, I nurtured my then-juvenile love of architecture through spending hours lurking in the Skyscraper City forums looking at thread after thread of pictures of 20th century architecture. Why? Because those images made me feel powerful emotions that I still find difficult to put into words.

When talking about Brutalism as a feeling, perhaps the closest idea comes from the English philosopher Edmund Burke in his 1756 treatise “A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful”. I am, of course, talking about the sublime. The Burkean sublime is emotionally complex. To quote Burke directly:

“Whatever is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain, and danger, that is to say, whatever is in any sort terrible, or is conversant about terrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is a source of the sublime; that is, it is productive of the strongest emotion which the mind is capable of feeling.”

But the sublime isn’t just negative. It overwhelms us with its awesome power and in this moment, “the mind is so entirely filled with its object, that it cannot entertain another.” Burke’s concept of the sublime was initially applied to such things as the ocean or the Alps - natural features that are so large, massive, and inherently dangerous that they put us in a state of awe-inspiring disbelief - and yet, and despite their mass and their danger, they give us feelings of deep pleasure and joy.

To the people (including myself) who love Brutalism - it does engender feelings of unknowing, of mystery, and sometimes, especially when said Brutalist building is in disrepair or photographed at a particularly menacing angle, of fear or grief. It shares this, rather than a stylistic label, with the buildings featured in this post.

Because of Brutalism’s association with the State, such as in the case of the former Soviet Bloc, East Germany, the welfare state in England, or its use in governmental buildings around the world, lingering political sentiments can also contribute to this complex mix of emotions - whether one longs for the halcyon days of eras past or fears them as being domineering or totalitarian. It can also cause people to associate buildings that are not Brutalist with buildings that are because they share a same political history. Similar to how the post-industrial society left behind a trail of industrial ruins along the American Rust Belt, so too has neoliberalism gutted and left for dead the monuments of these modernist utopias.

An actual Brutalist building: Paul Rudolph, Endo Laboratories Headquarters (1964). Photo via Library of Congress

Brutalist or not, these are enigmatic buildings - their forms are strange and unusual, alien even; their contents and even their purposes remain mysterious. Their siting makes them seem either imposing relative to their surroundings or isolated and alone. There is something dark and lonely, sad and longing about them. They are beautiful, partially because of their striking, form-bending architecture, and partially because they once lived different lives in times so unlike ours.

If you like this post, and want to see more like it, consider supporting me on Patreon!

There is a whole new slate of Patreon rewards, including Good House of the Week, Crowdcast streaming, and bonus essays!

Not into recurring donations or bonus content? Consider the tip jar! Or, Check out the McMansion Hell Store! Proceeds from the store help protect great buildings from the wrecking ball.

Copyright Disclaimer: All photographs are used in this post under fair use for the purposes of education, satire, and parody, consistent with 17 USC §107. Manipulated photos are considered derivative work and are Copyright © 2019 McMansion Hell. Please email [email protected] before using these images on another site. (am v chill about this)

#architecture #design #architectural history #brutalism #late modernism #structuralism #metabolism #modern architecture

4K notes · View notes

devils-servent · 4 years ago

Text

And the were roomates

summary

Mika and the boys are quarantining together, and it's great...till a good ole game of truth or dare gets outta hand and it all goes up in flames. The tension is real.

This exsists because of a post @elvingleaf made, thats here, that post was a normal statement, then i came along and well this....

also @lovedoglover9987 and @loveisafunnything its done~

this gets spicy...

“This is fine, this is fine,” is what she kept telling herself over and over. Face bright red as she sits between these Demons. All eyes in the room were staring at her, basically undressing what was left of her. They could smell Mikas' arousal.

Mika and the boys were quarantining togething due to the virus. The boys all had time off work and she only had to do some school work after being laid off from her part time job at the pink lady cafe.

Mika and the boys lived together for years now anyway so it wasn’t too hard but… due to social distancing in public and the closing of bars and nightclubs the need for energy had become...frequent. Not to mention their presence had become more frequent, mika was usually home alone. Ya know? But the consistent eye candy wasn’t a big issue.

But Mika wasn't quite used to their constant presence, usually there would always be some time alone for mika. No hot shirtless inubi waltzing around the place like they owned it.

Still the boys were nice about it, asking to cuddle with her and watch a movie, have mika sit in their laps while they did something or even just hold her hand. Just little things throughout the day not taking up much time. Just like it used to be before the boys got used to the outside world.

At first…

You see her college work got overwhelming at a certain time leading Mika to spend a lot of time in her room and away from the boys. It also ruined her sleep schedule. So the simple energy grabs were not as frequent and they moved to...well they moved to....they moved to make outs...lots and lots of makeouts and hookups.

Which is fine in theory.... Theory, see those said makeout left mika...frustrated.

Like when she was walking into the library with the intention of swapping a textbook and was startled by james’ sudden movement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“James are you okay--” she asked as he rushed toward her, his long strides intimidating Mika slightly as he slowly pinned her to the wall holding back his golden glow.

His enthrallment took her off guard and forced a heated, painful, arousal through her body letting a small moan slip out and James to give a smug little grin. Still his lips quivered, a little desperate, breathing in mikas increasing forced arousal, breathing in her sweet scent, her body sagging under his height as he spoke,

“Miss may i-”

He was cut off with a kiss, a long kiss. A make out session, if you will. Her body pushed itself up against James, not having felt another's sexual touch in a while. Her body molded with his as the kiss turned sloppy, desperate. Bodies grinding against eachother fuling the heated haze they both created.

Or the time Mika and Matthew were cooking, kitchen cupboards are a good thing to rest against in a feisty kiss she concluded. A perfect place to have someone between your thighs… His hands pulled mika closer to the edge of the counter as he knelt between her thighs, face buried between them, tonge teasing her folds and lips suckong her clit as if his life depended on it.

As is a bathroom sink, well not the actual sink. But her back against the cold mirror towel slipping down due to her arched back, as Sam kissed up her neck. Warm lips contrasting the cool mirror she was being pressed against. Head tilted back on the steaming mirror giving access to the sensitive parts of her neck.

Or even the gazebo post, cool nights were amazing weren't they? Perfect for contrasting the waves of heat That coursed through her body with an incubus on either side.Both relashing in her moans, and the energy seeping off her like heat to an oven. Not like she wasn't as hot as one.

~~~~~~~~~

Point is she was and is the boy's energy source, well main source, for the foreseeable future. Not that she really minded. But it was hard, it was like their enthralment bleed off of them 24 hours a day. Being around them sometimes made her become flushed.

A part of her was glad her school work picked up,it helped clear her mind. Release the fog of need that shrouded it.

The other part craved their touch. It missed fingers tracing her curves, hot breath in her ears. Panting in her ears. The crescendo of moans that would reverberate through the halls. The shaking limbs, the desperation that ran through her veins she missed the feeling of an orgas crashing though her body drowning her in bliss.

Even the thought could get her worked up....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now there they are, it's a friday evening and all of them are stuck in a competitive game night with remnants of the pizza they’d all had ordered, with a few slices left in boxes around the room. The pizza boxes...well they sat on the couches instead of them, with Mika sat on the floor head in Damiens lap as he played with Mikas baby hairs. Erik sat on Mika’s, left Matthew to the right with Sam by Mathew's side and James in the one free arm chair.

They did this each Friday since this disease had surfaced, the game night, not the pizza eating. It was James' way of ‘keeping the morale’ also known as not becoming hermits to any games console or internet reaching device. But all of them were bored. They’d been doing it for weeks and it was starting to become repetitive.

Sighing sam reached for his phone, “it's not even 9 pm, so I can't even go to bed yet”

Damien chuckled at his brother's annoyance. they all had played everything from monopoly -which got stopped due sam getting huffy at james owning a third of the board- to uno which damien had unsurprisingly won.

Perking up matthew smiled, “lets play truth or dare”

An unceremonious grown erupted from Mika and sam caused Erik to chuckle at the pair of them and their whining, ”It won't be that bad Sam, hehe, princess”

Matthew nodded in agreement “and besides we've never played as a group,or...or at all actually?” he questioned getting a nod from damien.

“I'll play,” Damien offered, his hand playing with Mika's hair as Erik smiled in agreement.

“As will I”

“I see no harm, Miss?.'' James said, giving a smile, as he joined all of them in sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. Mika followed suit leaving only Sam's opinion.

“Ugggg fine, how are we deciding who chooses who or whatever” he tried to whine but Sam was interested, all of you could tell.

Mika shrugged, muttering that she “doesn't think this will end well” as Daimen chuckled above her sitting her beside him and earning a mini glare as he took away the comfortable spot in his lap--

“Pass me that empty bottle Sam?” Sam tossed the bottle to Damien as he set it on the floor between them,

“There who ever spins it gets to ask who it lands on truth or dare.”

“Oh like spin the bottle then?” Mika asked and was given a nod as Erik piped up, ’Would You like to play that instead?’ and was shot down by James for obvious reasons.

“Let's play,” Matthew reached for the bottle as sam piped up,

“We aint playing no kids game. You gotta ask hard questions and whoever doesn’t answer-” He shot out of the room only to come back with a bottle of vodka and some shot glasses,

“takes a shot, OR,” he silenced james’ incoming argument “ they take off a piece of clothing.” he smirked at Mika, the fuckin pervert.

Mika could pretend she was surprised but he always was a perv. Taking any chance he got to slip his wandering hand up her skirts while they’d be watching a movie or even just eating dinner. His fingertips would trace the edges of her skirts and shorts. Hands would dip in to the waistband of her sweatpants and he’d always try to---

“The person either drunkest or nakedest has to do whatever the most clothed/soberest person says for 24 hours. Deal? “

Mika shrugged and the other brothers nodded. James added that they cap it at two shots and all of them reluctantly agreed. Upset at the thought of a cap on getting hammered.

Mika had a decent tolerance (technically the lowest in the room though, fuckin demons ) and had the most clothing on in the group, wearing a baggy hoodie over a shirt and skirt, and rocking a pair of taco socks. Mika’d be fine in comparison to the rest of the group. She was basically the most dressed. Besides this wasn't a question she wouldn't answer...

Agreeing to the spicy terms Matthew spun the bottle and it landed on-

“Sam! Truth or-”

“Truth pipsqueak,”

Matthew looked at Sam and gave an impish grin, “Ugg I was hoping for dare but...Share with everyone the DELIGHTFUL nickname You used to get called, ya know back in the plains”

Sam glared and immediately reached for the shot only to have it snached by Mika. “No no no, Sammy share this because i've gotta know”

He looks delightfully pissed, both at the situation and at being called Sammy,

James surprisingly egged it on “Sam it wasn't that bad” followed by Eriks sinister chuckle.

He growled and rolled his eyes “Its, ugg fine i used to get called fuckin handlebars alright, it’s not-- what are You laughing at doofus”

Mika wheezed into her hands as he gave a grumpy look, body rolling back, Mika curled on the floor and Damien patted her on the back muttering, “breathe” through his own sniggers.

Coming back to her senses, Mika sat up, looked Sam up and down before muttering “handlebars huh?” Mika knew it was from his demon form, but man she never made that correlation. It did make sense though....

Mika offered an innocent smile ”You didn't have to tell us Sam, You could have stripped a little.” Mika winked, getting a frustrated huff as he spun the bottle.

~~~~~~~~~

The game went on for a while before the questions changed pace, started by Sam (obviously) who didn't like how sober and clothed Mika was, oh and his brothers...they qualify for the sober part.

As his spin landed on Mika as he chuckled darkly. “Finally, truth or dare doofus”

Every bone in Mika's body told her to pick truth so the word truth left her mouth. Sam grinned. That grin makes mika shudder internally.maybe she shouldn't have…

“Hoped you would. What��s your wildest fantasy?”

Mika’s cheeks heated up and Mika gulped, forcing her mind to stay as blank as possible, there was no way she was saying that, not to the people involved. No way. No way. No---

James grinned as he drank some tea and Erik grinned at Mika. Matthew looked shocked at his brother as Daimen looked at Mika in curiosity...mainly. Every Person in that room had varying degrees of lust in their eyes, well not People per say...they were truly acting like lustful little demons.

Sighing she reached for her hoodie, pulling it of and placing it on the couch, “umm yeah...No thanks”

Erik smirked, “wow princess, we’re wounded. You don't trust us?” Mika stuck her tongue out at him and spun the bottle having it land on-.

“Truth or dare Damien?” she spoke head tilted to the side and he tilted his to match,

“I'll say umm, truth too.”

“Fuckin lame asses” Sam felt he needed to comment.

“Sam we all know we’ll only pick truth for most of the game anyway we want dirt on each other, But Damien, Who’s the most frequent person you’ve ever fantasized about?” Mika asked gently as his eyes wided and he went a glorious shade of red.

“I...fuck it was...nope im not doing it” he pulled of his shirt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And with that more rounds went by with questions like that were definitely not okay to ask as Roommates, however they were asked and ended up leaving all of them in various states. Mika with 2 shots, two missing socks and a missing shirt added on to her hissing hoodie. Earning the comment “nice bra princess” from good ol’ erik.

Not like he could say much, with questions that he wouldn't answer, meant he was 2 shots down and only in pj pants, his socks and shirt discarded. James followed a similar path being left in his black sweats and one sock, with 2 shots, he didn't take too kindly to masturbation questions, that's all she would say. Matthew had taken off his undershirt but left on his shorts and jacket, he however was 1 shot down. Damien in a similar strife to Matthew has only one shot down, he's only missing his shirt socks. Then there were handlebars, Sam, he was left in his sweats and was two shots down, in hindsight, Mikas questions really were not the fairest of questions...were they?

It all led up to this glorious question from James after Mika picked Truth, “miss since you've had so much fun asking inappropriate questions , I’ll ask you one...”.

What? The’d already been asking some inappropriate questions to her, She--

“Miss” James smiled, to call it an evil one would be an understatement. “When was the last time you masturbated?”

Matthew snorted at her embarrassed face as Sam coughed...Mika was screwed, she’d already had all of her two shots, it was answer or be in her underwear, There was no way she was answering that.

Mika jolted up off damiens lap, having him on her right hand side now as she covered her mouth in surprise.

Truth is, it had been a while. Mika tended to do it when all the boys were out of the house and due to the virus...it's been months. She was a little frustrated but mainly held it together she could just use the boys but she liked getting herself off. Not to mention he had not hooked up with any of the boys in a while. They mainly just used makeouts. Mika longed for something to be inside of her.

That question however...it threw Mika off her game.

Daimen laughed from beside Mika ”It's really been that long, has it?” Fuck, Damien idly smiles at her panic as Erik looked Mika up and down his gaze was hungry...All their gazes were hungry?

“How long has it been princess…”.

Mika signed a little embarrassed at the question before standing up and grabbing the waistband of her skirt untying the bow with the intention of pulling it down but-

“NO NO NO- “ Sam interrupted sating at Mika, “you wouldn't let me drink earlier so this is payback, tell us doofus,”

Mika scared incredulously at him before he smiled idly at her, just waiting… she sat back on the floor in an embarrassed heap, making sure she was looking at anywhere but the boys as she mumbled her confession, “A couple months ago,”.

“Pardon me miss but i don't think I heard that-”

“A couple of months ago,” Mika confessed face burning, looking up to see lustfully surprised gazes.

“And why would that be miss?”

Mika found Herself standing up with the intention of racing out the room. But she was quickly grabbed and lightly pulled into Eriks lap, his head on her shoulder and his one arm around Mika and his hand on the other side of her head forcing her to look at james.

He spoke into her ear, “and why's that princess?”

Mika squirmed in his lap, the feeling of him in her ear made her core go mental. It rumbled from deep within Mika. not to mention they way he had her sat her legs were a little open one lowered glance and---

Damien found himself answering for Her. “She doesn't want us to hear her, so she does it when we're not home, or sometimes when we're asleep.” Mika blushed and pulled at eriks arm. He just grinned against Mika's ear.

Matthew smiled, “what were ya thinking about huh?...Tell us the fantasy you think about...” He teased all the boys and sat a lot closer to Mika than before.

Eriks hold relaxed but Mika found herself staying in his lap. His touch did not help the burning in her core but it was nice. Mika shook her head as Sam's eyes flashed a bit gold,

“Not gonna tell us are you doofus?” His voice came from beside Erik, his hand was making his way up her leg and teasing the waistband of her skirt before dipping underneath it.

“What's your biggest fantasy Princess?”

Mika moaned out as Erik breathed on the shell of her ear, James and Matthew sat in front of Mika as Damien sat to eriks side. The rim of each pair of eyes tinted gold, they aren't even trying to hide the arousal in their eyes or voices.

They watched her red face as James spoke, “you've been a little bit of a mess huh miss? Well, we’ve wanted this for months. Do you want us? Heh, want us to fix the frustration you've been trying to hide from us?”

“This is fine, this is fine,” is what Mika kept telling herself over and over. Face bright red as Mika sits between these Demons. All eyes in the room were staring at Mika, basically undressing what was left of Mika. They could smell Mikas' arousal. It poured off her body

All movement around Mika stopped as they awaited Mikas answer, Mika nodded weakly, captivated by the promises within James' words.

“Yes” Mika nodded as James pulled Mika upward, Sam moved the boxes off the couch as Mika was pushed into Damiens lap on the wide armchair.

His lips kissed over the one side of her neck as Matthew kissed the other, Sam sitting in front of Mika opening her legs as his hands traced the outside of her underwear.

Erik knelt in front of her and spoke slowly lust in his voice, “well im disappointed, we're glad to help you, you could've said something sooner.” he smirked and held her knees and his hands began to trail fingertips up her thighs.

Mikas breath hitched as Sam's fingers pushed into her underwear, putting pressure on Mikas clit as he moved in slow circles varying pressure.

“Eriks right you know” James' voice appeared from behind her, he seemed to be leaning over the back of the chair, his head by Mika's ear.

“you know we would help...we’ve helped before...individually anyways”

Mika moaned out at the implication of his words. It was true all of them had hooked up before. They had all bedded her separately even in the odd threesome but never together not all at once. Could she take it?

She snapped out of her mental spiel as lips connected with the skin on her breast, a little moan escaped her as she whined. And james continued talking,

“You know miss, as much as we admire your work ethic...it left us starving… and that's not too good is it?”

Mikas back arched into the chair, as sam sucked hickeys on her inner thighs, his and erik's hand the only reason her legs weren't wrapped around someones head. She could feel her core pulsing in desperation, she wanted more… needed more. Mika whined at the teasing touches, lips ghosting over her skin.

Mika moaned into James' lips as they connected, back arched in an attempt to keep the connection. James teased her bottom lip with his tongue before they deepened the kiss. Mika barely realised the hickeys being sucked on her skin or the pesky finger opening up her bra. Feeling the warm air hit her nipples, Mika moaned at the feeling of somebody's breath on them, their teeth grazing it lightly and suking it as it got hard in his mouth.

Mika cried out in desperation as all touches left her body, her lips parted and eyes heavy with lust, the boys hungry gazes could be felt all over her. She barely realised they were all smirking at her needy state. Her chest heaving, she looked around at the boys before mumbling a small “please” and movement picked up again.

“Your room Mika? Damiens voice was lewd; a husky snarl as he began to stand up.

“Wait...Wait...mnh...” Mika tried to protest but she was already getting picked up by Sam. Breasts pushed against his bare chest as he walked with her in his arms. Heavy breathing and full looks were shared between you as Sam used his super speed to speed away from the rest of his brothers.

His lips briefly connected with mika before he threw her on her bed, watching her bounce before crawling on top of her, his arms cageing mika beneath him. Their initial kiss was rough, his chapped lips moving quickly against her soft ones. Pulling away his voice a lust ridden growl.

“If we weren't starving to taste you again” he moaned, “we’d tease the hell outta you~”

His knee coming between mikas clothed core and moving against it, the small amount of friction heightened mikas arousal. She found herself grinding down against his knee, hips rolling involuntarily back and forth, back and forth. Milking the friction she was getting. Before he pushed his knee into mika and smirking as the moan she let out.

Pulling her in his lap he leant against the headboard as his brothers strolled in, mika turned to look at them only to have her head snapped back by sam and she was kissed again, she showed no resistance to this whatsoever, in fact she was the first one to close her eyes and part open her lips. he pecked her once, making sure she wouldn't back off, then went in for a deep kiss. he found her tongue and it willingly danced with his.

She broke off the kiss to breathe, only to moan when a pair of hands pinched her nipple from behind her and her back arched into them. Head on his shoulder she saw Matthew's evil little smile as she was led down the middle of her bed on her back.

All the boys stared down at her, her hair splayed around her like a halo and her red tinted face.

"You look adorable mika" Damien said and kissed her again on her neck, lingering this time... kissing, licking, drooling and suckling on the same spot. Mika immediately reacted to the hot and wet sensation on her neck, arching her body for a second as her clit throbbed and her breathing shook.

"Please don't stop..." she gushed while she kept shaking and moaned.

The moan of pleasure from mika made damien groan into her neck, in turn making mika moan, blind to whatever was happening anywhere else in the room mika laid in bliss.

She couldn't help it now, moans coming out involuntarily, he heated haze becoming painful to lingerie. She felt like an over cooked meal.

His lingering, messy kisses on her neck, cheek and ear continued but he also dragged his hand down her soft body to her inner thighs and fully flipped up her skirt exposing her wet underwear. She jolted when his gentle fingers rubbed her hard little clit through the thin cloth of her briefs, she squeaked and moaned but didn't resist.

Nor did she resist when she felt her legs get lifted up and her skirt come off and get thrown, feeling the cooler air brush against her underwear.

Feeling eyes on her body as she arched her back, Pretty soon her briefs were soaked in arousal, she blushed intensely knowing that someone's fingertips were covered with the fluid seeping through her panties but she still wished this could go on forever.

But of course it couldn't, just a couple of seconds later she felt tingles on every nerve ending as her entire body tensed up. Hips involuntarily rolling into the movement of somebody's fingers, Her pulsing core cumming and cum easily went through her already saturated panties, she went limp and breathed out the longest sigh. She still wanted more.

As the high-pitched breathing from Mika winded down, Sam lifted his fingers, they dripped with her cum once or twice. He smirked as he smelled them, then licked them making eye contact with mika as he did. Infatuated with her taste he then greedily sucked anything left on his fingers.

“Sam” she breathed.

"Was that good?" Matthew asked, a voice coming from her side barely recognizable due to the lust shrouding it..

"Yesss..."

“Good because we're not done yet….” and with his words Erik pulled off mika panties and threw them across the room, giving a smile at the sugar she made when the air touched her sensitive core.

Mika felt her legs go over his and Sam's shoulders, heaving her exposed to the pair as James lips wrapped themselves around her nipples, Matthew looked up at her as if looking for approval again before he began his assault on her breasts, James didn't care for such mannerisms in bed. she nodded to Matthew, Then he looked for the pink, perfectly round nipple and licked the tip, making it harden in his mouth, and pressed his lips around it. He suckled, licked and drooled all over the aureole, making even Mika moan as she stroked his hair.

Matthew was in heaven always loving his mouth on mika's tits, and she was enjoying it as much as he was. He traced his finger up and down her stomach, aiming to keep her moaning as much as he could. To return the favors to the pair, she stroked the head of his penis very gingerly with the tips of her fingers, sliding his foreskin back just before its limit and then pulling it over the glans again.

Mikas' breath escaped her as she felt a mouth on her folds. Not knowing who it was due her head being cradled in damiens lap, tilting her head as much as she could while being led down, she was the other red head between her thighs.

Erik started out slow, with his tongue coated in saliva, licking from the bottom of Mika’s pussy to her clit. As soon as he reached the top, Mika moaned out at the slight change in pressure, Erik ignored the whines and beggs and kept licking her pussy with long strokes of his wet tongue, focusing on her clit sneaking a finger in or two just to stretch her out a little bit.

When Erik was satisfied with how much wetter Mika had become, he started licking in between mikas pussy lips and all the folds of her hooded clit. Erik was in love with the taste of Mika's pussy and couldn't help but keep licking everywhere he could taste the sweet flavor. He soon found that the flavor was best inside of her pussy, Not like he didn't know that already, he just loved to tease her.

With more vigor, Erik started digging his tongue deep in her pussy searching for more of those soft ridges that produced wonderful moans. He could vaguely hear mikas horny rambles and begging, from what he could hear she was getting close.

He started flicking his tongue and quickly eating out Mika. he saw Mika grip the sheets hard. His face was filled with more of her pussy as she bucked her hips into his face, using him for her own orgasm, Not like he minded, and suddenly Eriks mouth was flooded with mikas juices.

“Ah~ UZAERIS”

Mika found blanked for a few seconds and found herself in James' lap, back to his chest and legs spread out for everyone to see, Erik appeared at her side as their lips connected, she could taste herself on his tongue, and his lips. Her own juices painted his mouth as she kissed him.

The kiss was broken by a moan, the blunt tip on Matthew's cock running up and down mikas pussy, dipping into her dripping hole only to pull back out and smirk. Mika moved to roll her hips only to have Damien hands drab them and hold them down.

“Mika~” matthews voice teased, “what do you want mika~”

Mika groaned her body aching for more and the enthrallment of five incubi definitely wasn't helping.

“Say it mika” Not damien too~

She shuddered as he teased once again mikas words spilled out with no filter, “pleasejustfuckmeyouknowiwantitplease!!”

And Matthew's hips crashed into mikas and her eyes rolled back as they did so, her body moaned uncontrollably as she was pounded by him. Back shifting all over James' chest, her moans were unavailable as his hands traced her nipples, one hand coming to pinch it as Erik sucked a hickey on her breast.

Mika couldn't concentrate on anything, her body enjoying the attention everywhere, her breasts, her neck, her clit. she didn't even realise when she clenched around Matthew's cock.

“Zecaeru~..zecaeru….ugghuuuu… ZECAERU~” mikas body tried to pull his cock deeper as she came around it, the pulsing feeling as if it was dragging him into her body further. Matthew on the other hand kept at his pace fucking her though her orgasm and the few after shocks

She felt herself melt into James' chest as she came down from her high, but alas, Sam's hands pulled her off of his brother's chest and she landed face down ass up in front of sams cock.

James groaned at the sight of mika, all her holes just there offered to them, James' hands pulled her waist up to his cock as he shuffled closer and entered her. Mika, becoming more and more sensitive, reached back to grab his hands to slow his pace, but ultimately having her mouth stolen by Damien who made her face him instead.

He tapped his cock against her lips as she opened them, relaxing her mouth around it. She felt a soft tingle at the back of her throat, and it soon became numb to damiens cock. Mikas eyes were rolled back as Damien fucked her mouth and james her pussy.

She had no clue whose fingers were on her clit but, the fast movement they were making had mika moaning around damien and it wasn't too long before mika felt herself cum around james cock damien pulling out just in time for her to moan out,

“RAESTRAO”

Mika collapsed on the bed, heavily breathing and did not fully register her body in damiens lap and his cock at her entrance. Her legs open over his thighs, his cock teasing her entrance he pushed his hips up and watched her eyes roll back. Mouth agape.

Their lips briefly met, her soft ones touching him in a hazy rush before a loud moan was forced out of her by her ribs being roughly grabbed from behind. His body jolted up and down his cock as he fucked her. Hand sat loosely in her hair, just to keep her steady. As he guided her up and down his throbbing cock her pulsing pussy made it pleasurable for the pair of them.

Mika soon began to tremble and moan, fingers digging into the nape of damiens neck as she rutted against him desperate for her next orgasm. Sam's fingers on her clit as she rolled her hips up and down. All suddenly coming to a stop as she came over damiens cock.

“Ahhh ahah, Izroul~” she moaned contentedly.

Her body pulsing, she craved more. In the back of her mind she was becoming exhausted but her pussy was aching.

For seconds Her mind went completely blank when Sam finally put his cock inside of her. The thick, smooth tip slowly but firmly entering her, brought waves of sensation to her core. As she arched her back against his chest.

As he pushed it in more, she could feel how his cock was stretching mika out bit by bit even with how wet she was. When his tip inevitably hit all mikas hidden spots that she forgot even existed, her moans became louder.

"Oh yes..." his slow movements allowed mika to let out a coherent moan.

Not long after that, her whole body jolted up with Sam's rough thrusts, just moving quicker and quicker until mikas berthing was erratic and her words a jumble. What she thinks is james’ fingers rub her clit as she comes all over Sam's cock body twitching, shaking helplessly.

“Uhhhhh Aomaris!~”

Mika acknowledged the fact she was shifted of fo sams cock, Moaning at the new cock at her entrance she saw erik smile up at her,

“Last time now princess, i think i'll be cumming right it HERE”

As he said here he thrusted up into mika, hand on her hips as he rolled his into hers. Head tilted back as she moaned out, hands coming to tease her breasts, a hand on her clit and what she knew to be sams cock in her mouth.

The hands pinching and circling her nipples, one hand would grope her breast and the other would pinch her nipple.

The fingers on her clit moved in quick circles, fingers that specifically touched her clit applying more pressure than the others as it moved.

It took all of sams control to not fuck mikas face, her tounge running under the ridge of his head and teeth kightly dragging on the sensitive nerve here and there.

Room filled with moans and groans from each person until mika clenched around eriks cock causing him to also freeze mid thrust,

“Ghghghgh,~” mika moaned out head pulled off of sams cock and tilted back.

Erik buried his cock deep into mika as he came inside of her, Sam cumming all on her face, and neck and James Damien and Matthew all over her bare chest.

Mikas' chest heaved as she was pulled off of eriks cock and laid on her bed.

Mika smiled in bliss as the boys looked down on her, all of them struggling to catch their breath mika included.

Sam brushed her hair out of her face as Mika tongue out.

“Ugg how are you even awake” he smiled at her cum covered face,

Mika shrugged as she reached up and scooped some of his cum on her finger, watching it drip before she smiled at it and put it into her mouth. Sam's breath hitch as mika sucked on her fingers innocently, causing the others to watch incuriously.

Mika feeling all her eyes, and in her semi drowsy state decided to tease a little bit, dragging her finger up the valley between her breasts and sucking the cum off of them.

A groan escaped them as mika moaned at the taste,

“Don't play these games mika” surprised at the use of her name she smirked innocently.

“And why not Raestrao?”

Mika binked as she felt james fingers inside of her curling up to her g-spot as his thumb worked on her clit,

“We will drain you mika~ have you begging for Mercy”

Mika cried out as her sensitivity increased with a brief round of enthrallment as she came all over James' fingers, now hers and Erik cum leaking out of her. Her body shaking relentlessly she cried out before she passed out in a sweaty come covered heap.

~~~~~

She awoke to soft sheets, and the light trickled in through the open balcony doors. Shedding herself of the remaining glimpses of sleep, her eyes were still shut as she soaked in the warmth of the covers before letting her green eyes see the sun's rays.

She basked in them for a while, the warmth soothing her aching body, pushing the cover off she saw her bare thighs and stomach, littered with marks a reminder of what she could assume was the evening before. Her skin felt as if it were glowing and she was truly surprised at the very little aches and pains.

her muscles felt weak, unlike her energy. She let out an exasperated sigh, groaning as she laid back in the soft puffy blanket, What time was it? How long had she been asleep? Did she have clothes on? Well she knew the answer to the last question.

Her bedroom door clicked open as she looked to the culprit or should she say culprits,

“Morning~” still as bubbly as he usually was, Matthew bounced into the room and sat beside her. Soon everyone else walked in too, James carrying a plate of breakfast and damining a glass of water.

“We thought you might need it miss” he smiled, his appearance looked soft due to him in his sweats.

All the boys were in pjs and mika sat naked, well minus her blanket. Mika smiled as she bit a piece of toast, her blanket cover shifting slightly as all the boys sat on her bed with her, all just basking in each other's company.

Running his finger though Mika's hair from behind her, Sam smiled before asking, “hey doofus?”

“Mmmhmmm” mika mouth full of food,

“You never did tell us your biggest fantasy”

Mika looked back to see sams glowing golden eyes, quickly turning from him she looked around only to find everyone else's eyes the same color…

“Ah fuck me…”

“Again princess?”

“As you wish~”

“Really doofus?”

“We dont mind~”

“haha, really that's it~”

Mika paled “Damien i swear~”

______________________________

HONONRARY TITLE "Mikas quarantine orgy".

#seduce me #seduce me the otome #sedcue me demon war #james incubus #erik incubus #sam incubus #matthew incubus #damien incubus #mika anderson #seduce me 2 #seduce me 2 the demon war #i wrote that #someone take writing privleges away #seduce me otome

121 notes · View notes

mythicamagic · 4 years ago

Text

Sesskag week Day 6: Romance

Summary: Who says BDSM can't be fluffy? (No smut, the clue is in the title.) Oneshot. For Sesskag Week Day 6 - Romance.

Rated M but not for outright smut, just implied

1,500 words

(all prompts posted on Ao3, fanfic.net and Dokuga)

AN: Sooo media sure likes painting BDSM as something that goes hand in hand with abuse, hm? Hate that. Have this instead.

Aftercare

Lying atop rich, silky furs, Kagome stared ahead sightlessly, panting. Her body hummed alive, muscles burning like she'd run a marathon as she lay on her stomach, tufts of fur acting as bedding brushing against her sensitive chest. Twitching thighs sweetly ached, combined juices clinging to slick flesh. Her ass remained slightly perked even now, and she shivered with the sting. No doubt he'd left slight red handprints just like last time.

Everything felt flushed, sweat clinging to her torso, lips feeling bruised from the force of their kisses, heartbeat thrumming wildly yet starting to calm after her pent up pleasure had been released so exquisitely.

She shifted her bound wrists resting on her spine, connected in a series of ties to her ankles, legs drawn up behind her. A snapping noise filled her ears, abruptly feeling the binds loosen, severed rope sliding free. He'd set her free.

Squeaking, Kagome felt herself be turned over, the blindfold hitched up over her eyes and removed. Blinking up at the ceiling, dazed eyes adjusted to the light. She touched the cool wetness on her bottom lip, feeling some forgotten drool lingering there and blushing.

Clawed hands rested on her knees, the Daiyoukai's chin resting in the crook of his elbow as he caught his breath, body trembling slightly. He remained sitting upright, broad shoulders hunched forward, indicative of his exhaustion.

Silver hair obscured his face, hanging limp and cascading around her on the floor. Kagome weakly lifted a palm, brushing damp bangs aside. Sesshoumaru lifted his head- red eyes slowly dying back into liquid gold.

The miko offered a tired smile.

"Hi."

He returned it, pressing a chaste kiss to her palm that almost made her laugh. How at odds with the mood from mere minutes ago.

"Hello."

Sesshoumaru leaned back and unsteadily straightened, licking some blood away from his chin. The fresh bite mark on her shoulder thrummed from the action.

A whine escaped Kagome when he drew away, lips pursing. If her arms didn't ache so much she'd have reached out to beckon him closer again.

The smoke of a smile ghosted across his mouth before Sesshoumaru dragged a robe loosely around him and briefly stepped out of their room to demand a trayful of things be sent to the desired room. He then knelt to scoop her up into his arms.

Carrying his mate to their private springs and finding beverages and food waiting for them, the Daiyoukai sank into heavenly waters. They each hissed and shuddered, the temperature unforgiving on certain sensitive areas.

Placing Kagome on his lap, Sesshoumaru supported her back, gliding thin lips over her neck. Her tired limbs slung around him in an attempt to return his embrace, before he pulled back, lifting her wrist to inspect it.

"Were the binds too tight? You should have told me."

"I didn't feel it at the time," she murmured. Or rather, she had, but the drag of the rope had only served to heighten her arousal.

Humming, a wet tongue drew out, grazing over the faint red lines left behind from the binds. Sesshoumaru licked at nuzzled at her flesh, a rumbling noise escaping his throat. He looked rumpled and decadent, steam from the springs curling around his visage. Despite how effortlessly violent he could be with enemies, Sesshoumaru's palms as they moved and caressed her body dragged with a gentleness that one would not expect.

"Do you wish for water or sustenance?"

Her lips quirked. "Sure, I'll take something to drink, please. Maybe a pain killer too."

Dehydration was a very real thing, what with the amount of sweat they'd worked up. A cup was gently urged to her lips and Kagome curled shaking fingers around it, taking a long drink and coming down from their session slowly.

She then smoothed a soothing hand through silky silver hair, stroking his ear. "Are you alright?" she inquired gently.

Sub drops were expected but Doms could also experience them. A stereotype was that they didn't need aftercare. If she could just get her damn jelly limbs under control she'd have pampered him a little too. Sesshoumaru hummed, lowering her arm and wrapping her tighter in a warm embrace instead, their skin plastering together from the heat.

"I really do think we should come up with a fun safe word," Kagome sighed, lulling in exhaustion against him. Throbbing limbs relaxed, body unwinding beneath his soft touch. "Just a plain ole 'stop' or 'no' doesn't feel too special, does it?"

"This one does not see much point. You hardly ever tell me 'no' and if you do it is only to adjust our positions," he snorted, grabbing a cloth and starting to wash her body. "And for another; I do not find the prospect of hearing you begging me to stop arousing. Therefore we do not need a 'special' safeword. If you wish to stop, it is simple enough to say."

"Fiiine," Kagome huffed, running a hand over his bicep. Blunt teeth marks marked his flesh. She smiled a little.

Dragging the cloth over her back, Sesshoumaru absentmindedly kissed what welts and marks were available to his lips. Lifting her to sit on the side of the pool, he grabbed a lotion from her era and started to lather it over them for good measure. Kagome draped her legs on either side of his waist, heels grazing magenta stripes hugging his hips. Sesshoumaru shot her a warning look. Kagome flashed a weary smirk.

"You have surely had enough. Do not tempt me, miko."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she winked, closing blue eyes and resting a cheek against his shoulder, sighing with satisfaction. After being mated for five months, Kagome had decided to suggest a few things in the bedroom. They'd introduced cuffs at first, then blindfolds, and things had spiralled from there. Luckily Sesshoumaru already had a taste for dominance and took to things like a duck to water. He was now quite the expert at using toys and vibrators that she'd awkwardly lugged through the well. Trying to conceal sex toys within the depths of her backpack proved to be a terrifying gamble. Inuyasha and Shippo had started bugging her for ramen and sweets, assuming her pack must be filled with presents for her friends.

'They're gifts from me, for me!' she'd hissed until Sesshoumaru had mercifully stepped in and helped conceal her secret.

Now the couple had progressed and were comfortable enough to pull off different ties. The hog-tie was an unspoken favourite. Her poor, overstimulated sex twitched, core tightening with just the memory of it.

Calloused palms dragged over sun-kissed skin. "What am I going to do with you?" he sighed, grazing his cheek against hers in demonic affection. If someone glimpsed their sex lives, they'd shallowly assume the black-hearted, cold and cruel youkai had been the bad influence on the pure and pretty miko. That he was the one who spanked, marked and fucked her for his own enjoyment and nothing more.

Kagome lifted her head, kissing the underside of his jaw and teasing her mouth there. "I can give you a few ideas," she purred, showing the truth of their relationship. Pure and pretty miko's could have kinks too, and every time Inuyasha eyed her with pity and glared at Sesshoumaru like he'd 'tarnished' her, it only became more apparent that her curiosities and zest for exploration in the bedroom would've been stifled in other, more clumsy hands. It didn't matter how much she tried to explain or defend Sesshoumaru, some just willfully misunderstood.

Her mate, however, kindly dipped two blunt nails down. His other claws remained long and sharp, but the index and middle fingers had been tailored to meet her needs. Kagome gasped and sighed as they brushed her slick sex.

"You honestly desire more?" he asked in a velvety voice. "Despite the fact that you can barely move?"

Kagome glided greedy hands up his firm abdomen and chest to cradle his face, stroking soft thumbs over striped cheeks to elicit a shiver.

"I can still speak, can't I?" blue eyes danced. "That means you didn't do a good enough job- ah!" she jolted as lithe digits pushed in without warning, scooping the remnants of their lovemaking out of her. They'd need to make room, after all.

"Indeed," Sesshoumaru grunted in her ear, starting to rub her all over again. "Be thankful for the day we crossed paths, miko. No human could ever keep up your needs-" his free hand curled around her neck, "-and no other would endeavour to pleasure you as thoroughly as only I can."

"That's fine," Kagome murmured, rutting her hips against wicked fingers and becoming a vocal, breathy instrument in his talented hands. She gripped his shoulder and squeezed when he moved too quickly, and Sesshoumaru eased up, their silent cues only curling her toes with pleasure and making her head tip back to accept his hungry mouth on her neck.

"Because I don't want anyone else."

End

#sesskag #skw2020 #sesskag week 2020 #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #Sesshoumaru #Kagome Higurashi #anyone else predicting this getting blocked by tumblr? lol

49 notes · View notes

cavilliciousness · 5 years ago

Text

Title: About Time {Requested}

Henry Cavill x Reader

Words: 6.3k

Warning: Smutty, Smut, NSFW, Choking,

A/N: Eeeh, a request! So exciting. This is a bit long, I didn’t mean for it to be, but it is. Hope you enjoy it. Also, please excuse any typos or spacing issues, this is loosely proofread and edited.

Summary: You and Henry are really good friends, have been for eight years. You've wanted him for such a long time but never had the guts to make your move because you always thought you weren't good enough for him or the kind of woman he needed/deserved. He knows it and has waited for you to come to it on your own, but he is tired of waiting, especially after his long, frustrating day of work.

۞۞۞۞۞۞۞۞۞

You sat behind your desk in your cubicle. It was yet another day of the same ol', same ol'. It was Friday, and you were thankful for it. It had been a long week, and you were desperately in need of a well-deserved break. Your mind drifted to your routine Friday night. Every Friday you and Henry had a Netflix-n-Chill night. One of you would go to the other's house with takeout. Whoever didn’t supply the food had to make sure the alcohol was stocked. You took out your phone from your top drawer and shot a message to Henry.

MSG: Netflix-N-Chill tonight?

You waited for a minute and no reply. Placing your phone on top of your desk, you tried to focus on the article you were supposed to be writing. You glanced at the clock on your desk; it read one-fifty. You groaned, closed your eyes, and rolled your neck around. You had four more hours until you could leave and you had no idea how you were going to survive it. You couldn't focus on the article even if it meant saving your life. Slumping back in your chair, you tried to get into the mindset you needed to finish the piece. Your deadline was Monday morning and you'd barely written a paragraph. You'd told your editor and chief that you were the last person who could write about advising on becoming a woman who made the first move and take charge of her desires. You didn't know the first thing when it came to that.

Hell, you'd been in love with Henry for the last umpteen years, and you still hadn't uttered one word about it. Instead, you pretended the opposite. When he told you about the women he went on dates with you kept a straight face and tried not to look affected when inside you were dying. When he asked for advice when he was having woman troubles, you tried to give unbiased advice when really you wanted to sabotage him at every turn. It was painful, but somehow you got through it.

You wanted to tell him how you felt, but you were afraid he didn't feel the same and worried that you just wouldn't match up to all the rest. He'd been with some stunning women, women who had perfect bodies according to the mass public and women who had so much to offer, like models, beauty queens, and actresses. You tried to tell yourself, of course, you had a chance. You knew you were a pretty girl your features were not basic, and your curves drew a lot of men to you, but you only had eyes for Henry. What was worse was that he had no clue. Your phone buzzed on top of your desk.

MSG Henry: Depends are you going to adhere to the true definition of that term?

Your heart skipped a beat, and your mind raced with the possibilities of what he meant. Henry's sense of humor was all over the place. He could mean it literally, or he could mean something else. You knew what you wanted it to mean. Chewing your bottom lip, you wracked your brain to come up with a response. After five minutes you'd still had yet to respond.

MSG Henry: Guess not. I don't think I can make it tonight, running lines with the cast going to do a test drive to the next scenes.

Henry was in the middle of filming Night Hunter, and he'd said quite a few times the psychological thriller had a way of messing with his mind sometimes. You understood from everything he'd told you about the role and the plot. You were looking forward to seeing it.

MSG: I understand. Raincheck.

Tossing your phone back to your desk, you groaned a little louder than you intended. An email popped up from your co-worker Liz. You opened it and saw an attached picture of Henry in what looked like a still from the movie. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you flat out gawked at it. He was gorgeous, the filled-out beard and long wavy hair was one of your most favorite looks for him. You had dreams about running your fingers through it and using it to steer him while he was nestled between your legs. A shiver rushed down your spine and you a wave of arousal came with it. He was so handsome. You looked down at the message Liz wrote, "Wild, wild thoughts." You knew exactly what she meant.

By the time you got home, it was almost seven, and you were exhausted and so sexually frustrated. Deciding not to wait, you popped open a bottle of your favorite wine and gulped down two glasses as you prepared to hop in the tub for a nice long bath. Once you were seated, you enjoyed the hot water and floral scents of your bath oils and let your mind drift away on who else--Henry. Your mind ran back to his comment about "Netflix-N-Chill." There had been so many times you'd thought to just jump on him as he sat across the couch. So many times you'd wanted to barge in his bathroom when you'd heard him in the shower. It was amazing you'd been able to contain yourself this long. It took a lot of restraint and batteries.

After passing out in the tub, you got out only to realize that two hours had passed. You hadn't even realized that you'd dozed off. You grabbed the wine bottle off the kitchen counter and made your way to your bedroom, deciding to lounge in bed with the TV. You didn't even bother to change out of your robe and get dressed. As you flipped through the channels, you happened to land on a channel that was playing Batman Vs. Superman and it was coming up on one of your favorite scenes when Superman landed in the cave looking house, and he looked fierce as if he could destroy an entire city. You quickly pressed pause and stared at his clean-shaven face. Without thinking about it or looking away, you reached into your top drawer and found the one thing you'd been relying on heavily for the last several months. Once you perched against the headboard, you turned it on and focused on the vibrations and Henry's face on your TV.

It didn't take long for your back to be arched off the bed and your moaning to bounce off the walls and fill the room. You moaned loudly and slapped your hand to your breast and got lost in the sensations washing over you.

۞۞۞۞۞۞۞۞۞

-Henry-

The day just wouldn't end. Just when he thought he was home free something always came up. First, it was yet another conversation of the direction of his character; then it was an impromptu improv session between him and a co-star, then it was retake after retake. It was late, and he was exhausted, hungry, and honestly very pent up. His friends had pointed it out several times that his responses had gotten shorter and shorter and he always seemed stressed, angry, or just plain out of sorts. He pretended like he didn't know what they meant, but he knew exactly what they meant. They were right, and he knew the reason why. It had been several months since he'd been with anyone. Months since he'd cut all ties with his latest pass time, hell he'd cut off all the women he'd ever spent any time with. Once he realized how he felt about Y/N, it didn’t make any sense. He'd always been attracted and secretly wanted her but as time went on and you'd struck up a friendship rather than a relationship he just decided to keep things as they were.

In the beginning, he didn't know if you felt anything for him; he didn't like to just assume that every woman he came across wanted him and actually shied away from thoughts like that. The more he saw you dating other men, he resolved himself to believing you just weren't into him. It wasn't until almost a year ago that he'd realized you did have feelings for him when one of her friends accidentally let it slip. He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't happy about it because he was, but he was faced with a problem of how to breach the topic. Your friend Samantha told him you didn't feel like you deserved him or were his type. He thought it was a crazy reason and so far from the truth that he couldn't believe it. The more he watched you, the more he understood. He'd always known you were more reserved than the women he'd dated before. You didn't beg for attention from anyone men included. You never made the first move on any guy he'd ever seen you with and a lot of times he could tell you were awkward when you were complimented and told just how beautiful or sexy you were. At this point, he was tired of waiting for you to tell him how you felt; he was tired of waiting for you to make a move.

He parked in the parking lot of your condominium complex and grabbed his bag and the takeout bags from the backseat and made his way inside. On the ride up in the elevator, he rechecked his phone to see if you'd sent another message. When the elevator arrived on the twelfth floor, he finished off his email to his agent and tucked his phone away and grabbed the spare key he had. As he walked down the hall, a few people passed him, and he tucked his baseball hat lower to obscure his face. Once inside, he dropped his bag in the foyer, kicked off his shoes, and walked into the kitchen to place the takeout bags on the island. He saw the corkscrew and the cork and knew you'd probably had a stressful day of work. Walking toward your bedroom, he intended to knock, but as he approached, he could hear the muffled sounds of moans. Craning his neck to the door, he listened carefully. The moans got louder, he thought it was the TV, but when he heard a high pitched screech, he pressed his ear to the door. His heart was pounding, and he didn't know why.

"Aaah-mmmm. Yes."

That's not the TV, he thought. His instincts were to turn away and leave; he felt like he'd invaded on your privacy and was mortified for it. As he took a step to back away, it was then he heard it as plain as day.

"Oh, Henry!"

He stopped in his tracks and felt like he'd been hit by a train. The air rushed from his lungs, and the thought to leave was gone. Placing his hand on the doorknob, everything in him just wanted to walk in there and finally express himself. Before he turned the knob somehow, he got a grip on his desires and the fire in his belly. Clenching his jaw, he turned away from her door and walked back to the kitchen. He took out a bottle of Guinness from your fridge and gulped it all down without taking a breath. Once finished, he leaned forward and balled his fists. The thought of what you were doing behind that door was getting the better of him. He wondered if you were using your fingers or if you had a bullet or something more versatile. He wondered how long you'd been at it, if you always said his name, or if you were completely naked. He groaned and trekked back to the fridge and took another beer. Halfway through it, he decided he was done with this back and forth and waiting and he devised a plan.

Once he'd finished with the beer, he dropped both empty bottles in the garbage and walked back to your front door. He opened it and slammed it shut.

"Y/N! Are you here? Are you awake?"

He listened and heard a loud bang as if something dropped on the floor--or someone.

"Henry?!"

"Yeah. What's going on? Are you in the bedroom? I'll come to you."

"No, don't!"

He pinched his lips at the panic in your voice.

"I'll be right there. Give me a minute," you responded.

He walked back into the kitchen and unpacked the containers from your favorite restaurant and got the wine from the fridge. After a few minutes, you rushed into the kitchen in your black silk robe. He tapped into his acting skills.

"Hey. Were you sleeping?"

"Yeah, I um--I dozed off. Didn't even realize it."

"Are you sick?"

Shaking your head, no, you continued to avoid his eyes, "No, not sick, just feeling a little lethargic."

"That time of the month?"

"Nope." He knew instantly what time it was.

"Ah, I see, it's that other time," he responded with a nod. He'd teased her before about the way women got during their ovulation time. He'd always found it interesting mother nature's ultimate sabotage, especially if a woman wanted to stay away from children. She made it so your body worked against you. It was then he realized just what he'd walked in on. You were probably having the hardest time fighting it off.

"What're--what're you doing here? I thought you couldn't make it," you rushed out. You sounded as if you'd run a marathon.

"I couldn't, but I fought to get the hell out of there and here I am. Should I have not come? Did you have other plans tonight?"

He gave you an inquiring look keeping in mind what you were just doing. You looked at him and gave him an innocent look and shook your head before looking away from his eyes to look at the mountain of food containers.

"Nope, no other plans. Let's eat. What movie did you want to watch?"

You took a few of the containers and walked away to the living room. He chuckled under his breath and followed you with the rest of the food and wine.

You scanned the movies on Netflix and drank glass after glass of wine until you found an all-around movie, one with action, comedy, and romance. You both paid attention to the movie and joked between you, it was always comfortable with you, and he appreciated it. After a long day, you were probably the only thing that could help him de-stress. Throughout the movie, he initiated accidental touches that had you flinching back and looking away or smiling to yourself. When he took off his sweatshirt he pretended not to see you glancing over the exposed skin at his waist. He even pretended not to see you sink your teeth into your lip. It took everything in him to not react when he saw you suck your bottom lip in your mouth as you studied him when you thought he wasn't looking.

There were a few times when he thought you'd finally admit your feelings or give in to your wants, like when he reached over and wiped some sauce from your robe, or when his eyes dropped to your cleavage as he wiped the fabric, or when he unnecessarily brushed his butt against your hand as he passed in front of you. Still none of his actions elicited the wanted reaction, you looked like you were struggling yes, but still, you held tight to any confessions. That was when he decided to step up the tease. When you finished the last bite of your food, it left some sauce on the side of your mouth, he reached out and slowly wiped it with the pad of his thumb. It was meant to tease her, but as he did it, he was the one who had the most significant reaction. This was the first touch that he felt was intimate. In this moment he wanted you and didn’t want to play any games.

۞۞۞۞۞۞۞۞

-Y/N-

You couldn't breathe, think, or move. You doubted he knew just what he was doing to you. He had to be clueless at the power he held over you. Your brain was mush, and you were dripping wet. You scolded yourself, in the rush to hide all evidence of your masturbation you’d forgotten to put on underwear. The fact that you were completely naked and filled with an unfathomable amount of need for him was too much to bear. You knew that if you got up the evidence of your arousal would be easy to see soaked on the couch. Pressing your knees together you looked away from Henry and back to the TV. You frantically looked around to find the wine bottle. From beside you, you heard Henry release a breath. You looked to him and watched as he rubbed his forehead and tipped the hat off his head. His hair was slightly tousled, and you just wanted to touch it.

"So how much longer are we going to dance around this, love?"

You barely heard the question you were so lost in watching his hair and the energy it took to fight your wants and ignore everything your body that was running on crazy hormones was telling you to do. You hated ovulation week it was hell, especially whenever you were around him. The fact that you hadn't even finished before you heard him come through the door made it that much worse. Your body was on high alert. Shaking your head, you looked at him and heard the words he'd spoken.

"What?"

"It's been years and years aren't you tired?"

You gaped at him genuinely confused what he was getting at.

"I'm confused--,"

"I'm tired, bollocks I'm exhausted, and that's just from tonight," Henry admitted.

"What are you exhausted about from tonight? What's going on? Work?"

"I'm exhausted because I've had to pretend I didn't hear you pleasing yourself while moaning my name all night. I've had to pretend I'm not picturing what is underneath that robe or how it would feel to have your mouth on my skin. I'm exhausted and have no idea how you're not after doing all this pretending for years."

The blood pumped in your ears, and then the ringing began. Your heart pounded so fast you thought you were going to have a heart attack. You couldn't think, all you could do was hear his words replaying in your head. You couldn't believe your ears. Not only had he just called you out like hardcore called you out, he'd eluded to wanting what you wanted. Your jaw dropped, and you looked away and around the room, unable to speak. What could you say? You knew what you wanted to say. Quickly your head snapped back to him just as his tongue peeked out to dance across his lips. Your mouth went dry. The moment stretched on for what felt like an eternity, neither of you spoke, neither of you moved. Just as you thought to Henry darted across the couch and crushed his lips to yours, delving his tongue into your mouth. He expertly kissed you and claimed your mouth as his, a claim you didn't dare object to. Instinctively your hand clasped the nape of his neck, and you allowed your fingers to sink into the hair there. Henry groaned on your lips and the wall you'd carefully built around all you pent up desires for him collapsed. Behind this wall was every dirty dream, filthy whim, deep dark desire, and every fantasy you'd ever had about him.

You climbed on top of him and straddled his thighs, deepening the kiss and bringing your hand to join the other entangled in his hair. It was soft, so soft. Henry's hands gripped your hips and squeezed. You could feel his length growing as it pressed onto the need between your legs. Moaning again you pulled his head back by his hair. His loud grunt was followed by a husky groan. You kissed, licked and nibbled his neck before biting on the lobe of his ear. In an instant, he'd flipped you onto the couch and pressed his muscular body on you. his lips retuned to yours as he took control of the kiss. His beard rubbing against your skin gave you a delicious chill down your spine that curled around to your belly and ignited into flames. You moaned and dropped your hand to the swell of his backside and squeezed.

"Christ Y/N!"

The sound of your name on his lips made the pulsating between your thighs increase and beg for attention. As if sensing what you needed, you felt Henry's hands trailing up your leg to the inside of your thigh before his finger slowly met the wetness that had trailed down to your upper thigh. Then his finger grazed across your aching lips and to the greedy bud screaming for him. You gasped loudly tearing your lips from his as you arched backward. Henry swirled his finger over your bud then delved between your folds, feeling you more intimately than ever for the first time. As his fingers met with your sopping core, he groaned and dropped his head to your neck where he gently bit the skin there.

"Fuck!"

Whimper after whimper begged him to stop the teasing, but he didn’t. He continued to use your wetness to slick around your need. You knew you were close.

"Is this how you do it? Hmm Y/N? is this how you please yourself while you think of me?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out, all you could do was moan more. Henry's fingers sped up then slowed only to speed up again. He was teasing you. You didn't doubt he knew how close you were and wanted to toy with you. When you knew you couldn't take it anymore, you felt Henry slip a finger inside your desperate heat and sink it to the hilt before he added a second finger. When he pulled it back, he slowly pressed forward again your hand flung to the back of the couch and squeezed it feeling your orgasm begin to uncurl within you. Suddenly henry pulled his fingers from you and sat up. His hair was a mess, lips red from your kisses and eyes dark with desire. He placed his fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean. The sight was enough to send more heat through you.

"Bed. Now!"

The order was laced with urgency, an urgency you felt as well. Standing up, you wobbled to your bedroom and quickly glanced in the mirror and tried to fix yourself up as best as you could. When you got out the bath, you didn't lotion or do any of your beauty rituals and thought to do it to make sure he had the best experience possible but when you heard his feet trotting across the wood floor, you shook the idea out your head and hurried to your bed. When he walked in, he tsked.

"Since you're not in that bed already just stand right there," Henry ordered.

You stood at the side of the bed and watched him walk in your room. It was an action he'd done dozens of times throughout your friendship only this time nothing about the move was platonic. He stopped in front of you and touched the ends of the knot you'd tied and pulled on the material to loosen said knot. Anticipation gripped your heart, and so did the nerves. He'd never seen you naked before, and you were worried he wouldn't like what he saw. The robe hung just off your skin, and he used his pointers to trace up the material to your shoulders and pushed it off. Effortlessly the silk fell to the floor, leaving you fully bare before him.

Henry's eyes slowly drank in every inch of your figure from the swell of your breasts to the curves at your waist and hips. When his eyes stopped at the apex of your thighs, you bit down onto your bottom lip and tried to fight the urge to run and hide.

"God, you're gorgeous," his husky voice smoldered. Searching his eyes for any hint of a lie, you found none. You stepped into him and kissed him again. You doubted you'd ever get enough of his lips. Henry took control and gripped your hip and pulled you against his body. You groaned hating the feel of all his clothes. You grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and lifted, allowing your fingers to graze his abs.

"Too much clothes," you managed to groan out.

Smiling against you, he wasted no time pulling the shirt over his head. You looked over his torso and smiled; he was gorgeous and thicc. You loved his body, always had and the build he had for this movie was one of your favorites. Henry turned you so the backs of your thighs bumped into your bed and hovered over you until you sunk into your plush comforter. Henry climbed on the bed and laced kisses across your body starting from your hip to your belly button, then to your ribcage and your exposed breast. The second you felt his lips around your nipple you arched back and gasped in. Henry sucked your hardened numb in his mouth and suckled.

Mewls of pleasure escaped your lips, and when you felt his mouth on your other breast, you sank your hands in his hair and hugged his head to you. Before you had time to get lost in your pleasure, Henry pulled your hands from his hair and stretched them over your head and hovered over you once again. You felt cold metal around your wrist, but it didn't register. When you tried to pull your hands back, they didn't move. You looked overhead and saw he'd cuffed you to the headboard. Glancing back to him, you saw a smile.

"There is a toll to pay. Eight years you've hidden how you felt, eight years you've made us suffer, eight years you've lied. Your toll is eight."

Crinkling your brow, you pulled your arms again but to no avail, "Eight what?"

Henry parted your thighs and dropped his lips to your neck where he softly kissed you then traced the tip of his tongue down your body. When he made it to your breasts, he sucked your nipple into his mouth again. Your moans began again and but when you felt his teeth nibble the bud you gasped and pulled your head up to watch him wreak havoc on your body. Glancing up to you briefly you saw him smile.

"Eight orgasms," he cooly said before he moved his lips across your stomach down to your pelvis. You couldn't believe your ears or what was happening. The man you'd been in love with for so long and pinned for was kissing and licking your body and promising you orgasms, orgasms you didn't have to give yourself. Your anxiousness shone through with another yank of your hands. As Henry settled between your leg, she came face to face with your sex and examined you without touching. After almost a minute the anticipation coursing through you seeped to the surface, and you released a small whine.

"What're you doing?"

"You are so wet for me Y/N. It's beautiful." He kissed your pelvis, and you pinched your lips together to stop the sounds threatening to spill out.

Every kiss he dropped to your skin came closer and closer to where you wanted his mouth the most. Giving you one last glance and a cocky smirk, he kissed your swollen and needy pearl. This was no simple kiss; this kiss was slow and ended with him sucking your flesh into his mouth. You didn't even know it was coming, but when you arched your back, you felt your orgasm rip through you. As you came, Henry didn't stop; he only sped his movements and flicked his tongue against you. It felt as if butterfly wings were fluttering on you and it pulled away another orgasm from you. All that was heard was the sounds of your moans, whines and pants and the clattering of the handcuffs against your headboard.

He never allowed your body to cool. After your second climax slowed, his hand crept up to your breast and tweaked your nipple. You couldn't stop the loud whine that he pried from you this time, and honestly, you didn't want to. Part of you was embarrassed that after barley five minutes between your thighs you'd already came twice and on the verge of a third. You didn't know what you expected, but this wasn't it. For the next several minutes, Henry gave you two more orgasms before he lifted his lips from you. They were red and wet, and you wanted him more than you ever had before. You attempted to move to him, forgetting your state of confinement and groaned out your frustration. He smiled.

"You still owe four more."

"I can't."

He gave you a devilish smirk one that made your skin heat all over again. You bit your bottom lip just before he buried his head between your legs again. You arched your head backward and let your moans free, one after the other. He was clearly on a mission, and you were his captive and at his mercy. As his tongue quickly maneuvered bringing you to a whimpering writing mess when you felt him slip two fingers inside you that was it.

"Fuck, Henry!!!!"

You heard him moan and slurp against your skin, you wanted to watch but couldn't muster the coordination that action required, all you could do was buck against his mouth as he tried to suck you dry. When you looked at him, his beard was soaked, and he held a fire in his eyes that you'd never seen before. Henry rose off the bed and stood beside the bed. You watched him undo his pants and pull them off with his boxer-briefs. The first sight of him in all his glory before you had your jaw dropping. You'd imagined how he'd look hundreds of times. When you imagined it you could never get it right, you had no idea what to expect, but this was not it. Your imagination didn't prepare you at all. He was intimidatingly big and thick. He was beautiful. Henry's hands dropped to his length and slid up back and forth a few times. It was a mouthwatering sight.

"I've wanted you for so long, I've imagined how this moment would play out tens of times, but now that it's here--I'm not going to go slow. I fear I can't, love."

His voice was low and laced with so much emotion. You bit hard on your bottom lip, trying to keep your emotions in check. Henry walked back to the bed and climbed on and settled between your welcoming thighs. You were going to have a heart attack you were sure of it, and the thought of it made you anxious and even more aroused. Your hands kept trying to break free from the handcuffs, but each attempt failed with a loud clatter of the metal against your headboard. Every time you tried, Henry smiled, he was enjoying your struggle. Your eyes dropped to his protruding desire just as he placed it atop your pubis. The heaviness of his thickness made you moan in anticipation. You could see the moisture dripping from him and bit your lip again as your eyes met.

"Do you want me Y/N?"

You nodded your head instantly, not caring how it made you look. You wanted him bad and didn't bother to hide it any longer. Henry pulled back and slid the tip of his need across your aching sex, making sure he connected with your clit. You gasped and closed your eyes you knew it would be a matter of seconds before you came again if he continued this slow torture.

"I can't hear you, love. Do--,"

He lined himself up with your opening focusing intently.

"You--."

He then rubbed himself against you coating his thickness with your juices, again your hands pulled against the cuffs.

"Want--."

Henry slipped his length back up to your clit and forcefully nudged it.

"Aaah!"

"Me."

"Yes, fuck yes! I want you, Henry, I've wanted you for eight years, and I want you still. I love you!"

With a wild look and no more hesitation, Henry flicked his hips forward and sheathed himself within your cavernous heat. The shock of the action and the ripple of pleasure that erupted in you made you scream out and yank your hands at the same time yet another orgasm violently coursed through you. Henry grunted loudly but stilled his movements. When you looked to him, you could see the struggle in him, his jaw was clenched, and his chest was heaving. Circling his hips your thighs instinctively came together, Henry pulled them apart again and pushed them back to the mattress where he held them down. He groaned loudly, pulled his hips back, and snapped them forward again; the force made your breasts jiggle, prompting another moan from his lips.

"Christ! Mmmm, eight years Y/N. Eight years you've kept this feeling from us. Eight years!"

His hips picked up pace and gliding in and out of you at a maddening pace, one that was doing wonders with muddling your brain. Every time he connected your bodies, your body jerked with the feel of him stroking that sensitive spot within you. You felt your toes curl in a matter of minutes and that was the only warning you gave before you screeched out and rewarded him with orgasm number seven. Clenching around him, Henry sunk back onto his haunches and pulled your body down to him and sunk even deeper into you. You had no idea how you took him and weren't screaming bloody murder.

"Oh love, you take me so well, do fucking well!"

You nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing. As he plowed into you with reckless abandon, you didn't bother hiding his effect. You screamed his name freely and welcomed everything he gave. When he straightened your legs and held them in the air together lifted your backside off the bed, the change of angle gave him your eighth orgasm, one that had you squirting all over him yet again.

"Yes, Y/N, cum for me, come all over my cock!" his voice sounded as if he were on the verge of losing it. Henry parted your thighs again and leaned over you then grabbed your neck as he quickly delved in and out of your slickness.

"You're so tight. You feel incredible!"

The roughness in his voice only pushed you farther and farther to the edge, the edge you knew that had no bottom and would result in you being hopelessly in love and completely ruined by him. Once over that edge, you knew you'd be ruined for every man that wasn't him.

"Fuck, yes, yes Henry, please!"

"Please what love?"

"Please don't stop, please!"

"Never!" He gently squeezed your neck as his strokes lost their coordination. You knew he was close and rose your hips to meet him as you clenched around him. His eyes snapped to you, and it was then you heard a deep predatorial growl rumble. You'd never been this turned on in your life and he knew it, you could tell. Henry used his free hand to swirl his thumb around your clit, and that was the last push you needed. Screeching loudly, you arched off the bed and wildly thrashed your hips against his determined to pull him with you over the edge. Henry's mouth dropped open, and you heard him moan loudly before a yelp took over. As you clenched around him, you felt him release every drop of his essence deep within you. Your moans and pants of pleasure intertwined as one just as your bodies were. He dropped his body to yours and tried to bury himself deeper inside you as his body began to shake. You pulled his hair, forcing his head back to kiss him, a kiss he eagerly returned with the same passion you felt.

After nearly ten minutes of Henry resting atop you still buried within your well-coated heat, you stirred, realizing you could move your hands. You hadn't even realized when he'd uncuffed you; you were too lost in the afterglow of the best sex you'd ever had. Your smile spread across your face, and soon joy filled you.

"I can hear you smiling," Henry breached.

You snorted and pinched your lips together just as he lifted his head to look at you.

"Going to tell me why or do I have to read your mind?"

"Try it," you challenged with a smile. You knew he loved a challenge.

"If I guess right you owe me another toll," Henry suggested.

Snorting, you shook your head and slightly shifted underneath him. The action made him suck in a rush of air then groan. You could feel him hardening inside you. Shocked you widened your eyes at him making him laugh loudly in the quiet room.

"My god, you're insatiable," you accused.

"You're smiling because that toy you have in that top drawer never made you cum nine times in a row and never left you feeling this satisfied. That smile is you realizing just how perfect we are."

You smiled again and rolled your eyes.

"Looks like another toll is due," he teased before he kissed you again this time slowly. He then gazed into your eyes and gently caressed your cheek.

"I love you Y/N, I've always loved you. I will always love you. You are more than good enough. "

Smiling again, you kissed him and rolled on top of him. It was going to be a long, toe-curling weekend.

Tags:

@mrscullisblog

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill request #about time fic

1K notes · View notes

imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 5 years ago

Text

The Things We Tell Ourselves

Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: for the amazing @coffee-obsessed-writer . This story means so mch to me, I put very personal emotions into.

Warning: relationship issues, a bit of smut in the end (not too graphic).18&over.

Summary: Stuck in a stale relationship, a visit from Dean Winchester changes everything.

The dive bar was your typical joint, neon decorate lights, a wet look to it, and old country music that would depress the happiest of people – it was your kind of place, a dark secluded secret lair you often went to when things at home got too bad. Now, your ex or at least soon to be ex, was not an overly bad person. He had been great in the beginning, but things had fizzled a few years too late and now you were stuck in a gaping hole that was proving to be hard to climb out. You were a creature of habit and admittedly, afraid to investigate a future that did not involve the ex. It seemed you were just plain ole stuck and that was a reality you were not up to facing – at least, not tonight.

Work had proven to be a painstakingly long day and when you arrive home to the apartment you shared with, he who shall not be named, you were relieved to not see his car in the carport. He must have stayed longer or maybe he was having an affair – you preferred the latter, that way you did not have to feel for not wanting to see him. Maybe he was really having an affair, an idea that swelled the urge to leave the relationship. It would make it easier to leave him, but he was never an adventurous person and an affair would require effort, something he was not known to put forth.

Edging on the bar stool, you asked for another whiskey on the rocks. You waited patiently for the drink because you had nowhere else to go or wanted to. Although your ears perked up when someone had finally done everyone a favor and changed the sad country song to a sad Fleetwood Mac ballad. It was smoother on the ears and when the drink arrived, you grabbed it and held it up in the air – saluting the music changer. It was the little things in life, right? That was what you told yourself, every time things seemed to become stale and gray. You would buy a new dress or style your hair differently, anything to arouse something out of the man you thought you loved. Nothing ever worked and you secretly were grateful, more satisfied with the effort.

Drinking the whiskey, you started to think of excuses to not go home; maybe someone would kidnap you, a handsome stranger who was kind but a little rough around the edges. Someone who knew how to treat a woman, knew how to not make her bitter. It wasn’t like you were asking for the world, just a little devotion and a whole lot of appreciation – was that so bad to ask?

Were you the one looking for too much?

When did this all become so cliché?

You could not pinpoint when it all started, but you remembered the day you realized something was wrong. He was gone for a weekend, went to visit some old friends and you had never felt freedom like that before. Slept in, lounged around reading, and when you finally ventured out for some late lunch, you met a man. You were dining alone, and he was seated at the next table, he was handsome and when he noticed the book you had brought to read, he initiated a conversation. It turned out he was an English teacher and very much single, he joined you at the table and the two of you talked about books for two straight hours. It was thrilling, the attention he was giving you and when he asked for your number, you regretfully declined, and that was when you realized how starved you were. Starved for human reaction other than paying bills and asking about recorded television shows. You craved real affection and connection, and that day, you noted that it was the first time in a long time that you felt any connection with a man – and he was not the one you were going home to.

After that, you pulled away from your relationship with your long-term boyfriend and it hurt when he did not seem to notice or care. You should have left long ago, but now it seemed damn near impossible. Too many things locking you in – an apartment lease, a car lease under both your names and other things that came with coupling. But were those just excuses?

Of course, they were.

“Another whiskey, please.”

“Sure thing.”

That was number three now, but nothing could fill the void in your stomach, and that was when he popped into your head. Not the will he ever be ex, no not him. The he you suddenly were thinking about was Dean Winchester – a man you had known for years now, a friend that helped your father when some things came bumping in the night.

Now this is where the story might get odd, hell, the Winchester’s were an urban legend in many people’s books, but to you, they were just Sam and Dean. Their problems seemed far more superior than your bad relationship woes – real life monsters, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, demons, and everything else in between. The thing was, you came from a line of supernatural hunters, but dipped out of that life pretty early on, opting for a more normalized existence. Sometimes you regretted it, when those phone calls would come in from Dean- every few months, updating you on the hunter life and declaring you were missing out. You never knew what number he would call from, so you always made sure to pick up every time your cell rang.

Dean Winchester was a man, a man God himself foretold to be something more than ordinary, but to you, he was just a boy you once knew. Your fathers were decent friends and growing up, Dean and Sam would spend time at your house whenever your dads went off on a hunt together. You were the same age and more times than not, would exclude Sammy from the teenage fun you’d find yourself in. Drinking from your dad’s cabinet, watching adult films and being completely grossed out, even once the two of you kissed. It was fleeting and innocent, but you had never forgotten it and sometimes, when it was quiet at night, you still thought of it.

You were thinking of it now, and it made your skin warm, toes curl and throat clench. So, you asked for water this time and drank it fast, little bits dripped from the corner of your mouth. It was one kiss, but it meant more to you than any other kiss you participated in after. It meant more to you than the peak of your current relationship, when things were actually great, and you were happy. It felt silly, to fixate on childish things but Dean had always held a special place in your heart.

Just thinking about Dean was making you nervous, so when your phone started to buzz and you saw that it was an unknown number calling, you nearly threw up. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on the bar for support and answered it with a quiet voice.

“Hello?”

A long pause met you and a second later a laugh of relief filled your ears. His voice was husky and sexy, and when he said your name, you smiled so wide, it hurt the corner of your mouth. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“It is? That’s good? But how good would it be to see my face?”

Confused, you asked what he meant.

“Turn around, sweetheart.”

Whipping around on the stool, you nearly fell when you saw Dean – he was standing near the bar entrance, wearing jeans, a gray flannel and a green jacket over it. His hair was cut in a different style then you had seen last, hair swept up a bit. It made him look a bit more modern, but nonetheless handsome. He grinned and started toward you, but you met him halfway and held him tight as he embraced you.

“What the hell are you doing here,” you asked, hands on his biceps as you pulled away. He shrugged, explaining that Sam and he were passing through, and he could not pass up the chance to see me.

“I went to your apartment and that douchebag you call a boyfriend said he didn’t know where you were. I asked him what kind of boyfriend doesn’t know where his girlfriend was, he wasn’t too keen on my attitude.”

“He’ll live.”

Dean rolled his eyes but hugged you again. “Anyway, called your pops. He told me you had a favorite bar you went to, didn’t know the name. This was the third bar in town I checked, lucky me.”

Your hands stayed on his forearms until he threw his arm around your shoulder and walked you back to the bar, asking if you already had too much to drink. “We plan on staying through tomorrow night, figured we could do some catching up.”

“That sounds great, Dean. I would love nothing more.”

He smiled wide and leaned in to kiss your forehead, telling you whatever you wanted was on the him. Deciding you wanted to be sober for the remainder of the time Dean was in town, you opted for a beer and lemonade, while he ordered a whiskey for himself. The two of you took up a corner booth and he sat across from you, shrugging off his jacket. He was gorgeous, aging well. He talked about hunting through the country, listed a bunch of places he had been and how they now had an angel friend. It was wildly ridiculous, but it sounded like an oddly nice life – a life you might be missing out. Then he talked about getting hurt on the last hunt and you remembered the times your dad came back with looking worse for the wear. You would watch from the kitchen doorway as he fixed himself up, because he never wanted to wake your mother with worry. He knew you were watching and eventually would call your name, telling you to take a seat. Asking him what happened, he’d recount the hunt and how lucky he was to be home. Hunters weren’t always so lucky, he made sure to make that a point until you asked if John Winchester had helped him. He really knew you were asking about Dean, and he would just laugh – even then, by the age of 12, you had the oldest Winchester boy on your mind.

“So, what’s with the boyfriend of yours? I could take him, you know.” Dean was teasing, he always teased about the boyfriend, never understood how you could fall for such a douche – his words, affectionately.

“Nothing’s up, it’s just.”

“Hmm, well, what does your old man have to say about it?”

Your dad had a lot to say, more so than anyone in your life – mom had been gone a few years now and it was just the two of you during the holidays. He hated the boyfriend but respected your decision as an adult – although sometimes you wished he’d demand you to break it off, move back home with him.

“I don’t want to spend the little time I have with you talking about my crumbling relationship.”

Dean nodded and leaned back into the booth, asking if you wanted to go see Sam. “He wants to see you.” You suggested the three of you go out to dinner tomorrow before they leave town, a real nice place; your treat. He grinned and agreed, reaching his hand across the sticky table to yours. His fingertips touched the edge of your knuckles and it made you sad, the feeling it aroused in the pit of your stomach. Dean’s single touch had more impacted than all the touches you had received in that lonely apartment – all the years’ worth of stiffened hugs and chastised kisses. You smiled at Dean and he smiled back, squeezing his palm over your hand before pulling away and thanking the waitress for the round of beers she brought over.

“You know Baby has room for three, we could use a hand – we have a permanent place now.”

We have a permanent place now – that had to be the most important sentence ever said in the existence of the universe, it felt that way, anyhow. It bounced in the air; you could see it – like a large neon sign over a coffee shop. Open for business; we have a permanent place now. It made you feel jealous and excited at the same time, and the way Dean grinned suggestively, it made it seem like he knew you were itching to get out of the life you had made. A life you had carefully rolled out of clay, hoping it will stay up until you realized it had tired and was slowly crumbling into its first form.

You stayed quiet but Dean went on to describe the bunker. “It’s safe as hell, got plenty of rooms. Hell, you don’t even have to go on hunts. You can just keep the fort down for us, be our person on the other line – what Bobby did.”

“I miss him,” you said, and his face dropped. The two of you picked up a glass and held it up for the fallen hunter, before swishing down the beer and laughing when it came spilling out of the corners of your mouth. “Shit, you make it sound so easy, Dean. Just pick up and leave, like I don’t have any responsibilities to leave behind.”

Dean’s eyes softened, as they always did when he talked to you. “Hunters don’t have the same rules as everyone else, you’ve always been a hunter – you’ve just been on the bench for way too long. Sammy could use a research partner too.”

He threw his brother in to make the deal sound sweeter; he knew how much you enjoyed spending time with Sam, researching through old books and the internet. It almost seemed perfect, the great escape you had been longing for, but something inside you was petrified. Too many years had passed, you got too comfortable in the place you had now – had normal responsibilities to think of and mostly, you were afraid of being around Dean, because deep down, the torch you held for him had only grew larger throughout the years. It was painful to think he had not thought of you in the same light and although he was extending a hand to get you out, it didn’t particularly feel romantic. It felt exactly like what Dean Winchester would do for a friend, for family.

“So, what’s up with your angel friend, he cute?”

Dean rolled his eyes, obvious of the deflection. He let it pass and he asked if you wanted to meet him. “One call and he’d be here.”

“I can barely handle two Winchesters in my town, I don’t think I’m ready to meet an actual angel tonight.”

“Next time then, I know Cas would love to meet you. Sammy talks about you all the time.” It was the way he said all the time that clued you into the fact that it wasn’t Sam doing all the talking; it made you smile down at your fingers. They were holding tight to the beer sitting in front of you and for a moment, the whole bar went quiet. Everything stilled in a peaceful silence, time seemed to slow down as you finally looked up at the man sitting across from you. His jawline was shaper than it had been nearly fifteen years ago – when he was scrummaging the line between boy and man. In general, he looked more refined and it was a good look on him.

“Why are you so quiet? I thought you’d be happy to see us?”

He said us but meant him.

“I am, believe me,” you assured him, pushing away the beer. Your stomach could not handle any more drinking, and neither could your heart, because you were one drink away from doing something stupid and reckless. “I just have a lot on my mind, and I don’t think I should drink anymore.”

Dean listened and stared, watching each word fall from your lips. Then he said okay and got up, leaving his beer half full. Your eyes followed him back to the bar, where he pulled out his wallet. He took a few bills out and settled the bar tab, shaking the bartender’s hand before making his way back to you. He asked if you had brought a jacket and you said no, and he asked if you wanted his. You said no again, because you did not want his smell to linger on you after he left – it would hurt too much. A reminder of what you could have had if you were brave enough.

“Suit yourself, come on. Let’s get some food in you, any good burger places around here?”

…

There was this burger stand near the bar, it stayed open late because of the bar hoppers. The food was not particularly anything to write home about, but they did the job when one was sozzled. You weren’t exactly drunk, but a heavy buzz rang over your skin as Dean walked back to Baby with food. He was smiling and each step he took closer to the classic car, your heart and nether regions took a hit. Then he got in and handed over the food, teasing that you better not get Baby dirty. Ignoring him, you started devouring the burger and fries, thanking him when he handed over a water bottle. He watched for a moment, delight in his eyes, as you ate before digging into his own food. For a few minutes, the only sound in the car was Led Zeppelin in the background and the ruffling of the white paper bags the food came in. You ate and stared out the window, watching a couple eating a few cars down. He was cleaning something off her chin, and she was eyeing him like he was the entire world; it made you feel jealous, a bit bitter inside.

“Stop staring at people,” Dean murmured, shoving a fry in his mouth. He had this annoyed look on his face, but you knew that was just him messing around. You apologized and said you forgot how much attention he needed. He smirked and nodded. “I never get attention; all the girls love Sammy and his damn hair.”

That was a lie – a bold face one. Women loved Dean, beyond the obvious good looks.

“I’m sure you’ve had your share of women,” you said, looking back at the window. The couple had pulled out and the spot was empty now. You felt sad that they were gone and wondered if they were going home together or maybe they weren’t together, maybe they each had someone had home. Maybe they were secretly meeting and living out a side storyline – lovers that couldn’t be together.

“Nah, been too busy. Besides, somethings just don’t compare.”

You barely registered what he had said, because a new car had pulled in two spots down and you recognized it with a sharp pain in your chest. It was his car; he loved this shitty burger stand. Slouching a bit, you watched out of the corner of your eye – seeing if he was with someone and God, hoping he was. He wasn’t, that would be too exciting for his life. He was alone and you watched as he got out of the car to order at the counter. Dean was talking in the background, something about you going with him, but nothing was hitting the brain. You focused on him and what he was doing, how different he looked without you at his side. He ordered and waited patiently on the side, because again, he wasn’t a particularly terrible person.

“Earth to dork, you listening or what?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, averting your eyes back to Dean. “I’m not feeling so hot, can we get out of here?”

“Sure thing, want me to take you back to the apartment?”

God, no. Sure, he wasn’t home, but just the thought of stepping foot in the place – tarnishing the very night you were having with Dean, to end it – not, you did not want that. “No, let’s go see Sam. I think we should go see him.”

Dean said nothing, but quickly finished off his burger and took a long sip of his coke before asking if you were ready. By the time he was done eating, you had put the rest of the food back in the takeout bag and said yeah, you were ready. The car revved up and you were suddenly aware of someone staring at you, and that was when you locked eyes with the man you had spent years with. He was leaned against the counter, waiting for his food. For a moment, you thought he was staring at you but the fleeting tightness in your chest disappearing when you noticed him admiring Dean’s car. Yes, the man was so blind to you and your existence, he had not noticed you watching from the passenger seat. It was so hilariously sad, you laughed. Full blown laughed as Dean pulled out, asking what was so funny. Relaxing once again, you smiled and turned your head to him.

“Life is.”

…

The motel was a dime a dozen, nothing special. Neon light announcing vacancy and an ice machine near the main check in lobby, several cars parked in the lot. Sam had opened the door with a warm smile and even warmer hug, his height pillaring over you as he pulled you into the room. Dean followed and closed the door, walking over to the small green table near the only window. He placed the left overtake out and shrugs off his jacket, tossing it on one of the two chairs that accompanied the table. Sam lead you to one of the beds and the two of you sat on the edge, catching up just as Dean and you did. It felt good to be near both the Winchesters, and admittedly, felt safe.

“Dean couldn’t pass up a chance at seeing you,” Sam said, eyeing his brother who huffed as he made his way to the bathroom. He waited until the door closed before smiling at you. “We both wanted to see you, how have you been?”

“Good,” you lied.

“Let’s try again,” he laughed.

“I’m getting by, Sam. Just…going through the motions of life.”

His eyes fell on yours and he asked if everything was okay. “You know you’re always welcomed to come with us, that’s all Dean talked about on the way here. He thinks…”

Sam’s sentenced trailed off and you stared as his mouth closed. It seemed he had placed his large foot in his mouth and you had not missed that fact; asking him what Dean thought. His eyes moved to the door of the motel bathroom and he sighed, explaining that their trip here was no unplanned.

“Dean’s been wanting to come check up on you, didn’t like the last phone call you two had. He thought something was up with the boyfriend and he…he planned on convincing you to move to the bunker with us.”

The information settled in just as Dean walked out of the bathroom, drying his hands with a small washcloth. When he was done with it, he threw it on the bed and asked what was up. Sam said he was going to head out to catch a bite to eat. Dean mentioned there were leftovers, but his face pulled up in disgust.

“I’ll go find something a little healthier, a lot less bacon grease. I saw a diner down the block, I’ll walk.”

Dean scoffed. “You ain’t right, man. Who doesn’t like bacon?”

‘It’s the American way,” you joined in.

Sam rolled his eyes, putting on his jacket. “I don’t partake in peer pressure, I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

You laughed and waved bye when he walked out of the room, leaving Dean and you alone. The room grew quiet then and all that could be heard was the sound of Dean’s boot moving across the dingy beige carpet. Eyes glued to the floor; you couldn’t look up as he claimed his brother’s spot on the bed. Unlike Sam, who kept a respectful distance Dean seemed to engulf the little space left between your bodies. His knees brushed hard against yours and his arm nearly hung over your right arm; the situation was stressing you out because suddenly you felt guilty. Guilty that you were in a motel with a man who was not the one you were currently in a committed relationship with; that alone had you rushing off the bed and walking toward the door until Dean jumped up and chased after you.

His hands flung to your shoulder and when he turned you around, your heart was beating so fast and hard, you were scared you were going to have a heart attack; his mossy eyes stared into yours and he asked you to stay.

“Please.”

Oh, that please; it was more than you could handle. It was so quiet and desperate, before you could say a word, your mouth was on his. It was only the second time in your life that you kissed Dean and it felt just as it did the first go around. Sweet, yet longing, his hands went up to your face and he held you gently. You groaned against his body, hands on his hips as you guided him back toward the bed. It felt suddenly when he broke the kiss, your eyes still closed until he whispered your name. Fluttering open, Dean’s face unblurred and a smile appeared, his hands now on your shoulders. His fingers were warm, even over your clothes and he asked if you were sure.

“Sure?”

He sighed. “I have ears, I know Sam told you my plan. Jeez, never could keep a damn secret, huh? Doesn’t matter. I want you to come live with us. Like I said, the bunker is safe, and you don’t have to hunt, can just hold down the fort when we’re gone. I know things aren’t right here for you, and it might be a lot to ask, picking up and starting over, but we want you to come with us.” He paused. “I – I want you to come be with me…”

His words hit harder when they came from him and suddenly, all the doors flew open – the windows too. Fresh air flowed up the back of your shirt and tickled the nape of your neck, even your toes curled at the opportunity – lifeline, Dean was giving you.

“With you?”

You had to know, wanted to hear the exact words from his mouth before anything could go further – this way it would make things easier. There was no way you were going to leave with the Winchesters without knowing where the two of you stood, if you were going to start fresh, you had to know.

Dean’s smile faded as he stepped closer to you, his hands moved from your waist to catch your hands at your side. He seemed nervous and that made you smile, and when he cleared his throat, your heart raced. This was it; he was the key and while you never wanted to rely on a single person for your happiness, you knew you deserved to be cherished. Deserved to have someone look at you from across the room and see their face light up when you smiled at them. Someone who held you before bed, took up most of the room and occasionally made breakfast in bed. A person who knew how to dot on their partner, who delighted in seeing them walk through the front door and ask them about their day – someone who wanted to touch you in every way. That’s what you deserved, you knew that much, and more than that, you knew you wanted Dean to be that person.

“Yeah, you, who else?” He laughed as if it was all so obvious and you reached up to smack his chest, but he caught your hand and gave it a soft kiss. “Come on, it’s always been you – you’re my girl.”

That was it, all that needed to be said – no worry about the apartment and figuring out the logistics of moving out or the bane of shared accounts and bills. Those minor inconveniences where just that – nothing to pain over and not worth staying behind for. He kissed you then, this time more eager and rougher, the tips of his thumbs spread across your cheeks and he murmured that he wanted you now, and that he couldn’t wait. You asked about Sam and he joked about putting a sock on the doorknob.

“No, it will be fine,” he whispered, pulling up your shirt over your head. “He knew as soon you came, that I would convince you to stay. He’ll be out for a while, we have time. Besides, you’re going to be living with us now, he’ll have to get used to the noise.”

You chuckled, eyes rolling he kissed you more. Hands rose to your chest and he touched the top of your chest, tongue moving against yours. The firmness in his jeans pressed against you and that’s when neither of you could take it. It took a few awkward maneuvers before the two of you were in bed – you on your back and Dean over you, nothing but a sheet covering your bodies. The awareness of your body naked against his heightened the excitement in your chest, his eyes roamed you up and down until landing back to your face. His eyes seemed to be glistening in adoration, and for the first time in such a long time, you felt seen, and when he pushed into you – you felt loved.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #spn #spn imagine #supernatural #dean

341 notes · View notes

ill-skillsgard · 5 years ago

Text

On the Market - Henry Deaver X Mistress

Warning: 18+ mentions of sex/cheating/mature themes. *This part contains consensual sleep sex* Please read at your own discretion.

Note: Just a smutty little nudge in the next direction. I’m sorry about the delay. I know there is a pretty equal divide in the direction that readers want this series to go in, but this part has no butt stuff >< I’m planning to come out with a longer, more angst-driven part next, but I’ll need time! I appreciate all the requests I still get for this pairing! Kisses!

Read more Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

The letters shouted in black and white. “Local business mogul caught in a steamy affair with woman half his age!” Why did they have to mention your age? You were a fully grown adult capable of making your own decisions. How could something like this go to print? It wasn’t fair. Your heart plummeted into a deep, jagged pit that opened up in your chest. Everlasting panic kicked the breath from your lungs, and then a yawn of warmth swallowed you whole, filling up your mouth, nose, ears and eyes.

The crevice left by the terrible news suddenly closed, and you coughed up the black residue left behind from the flash fire in your chest. Although there was a nagging sensation on your legs, you could breathe and that’s all that mattered.

After a moment, the nagging on your legs moved across your body like a warm ghost pressing your abdomen. The pressure increased, diminishing into a concentrated beam that bristled all over one spot. It slipped down between your legs like a hot stream from the bathtub faucet just like the time you discovered how friendly a private bath with the door locked could be.

This sensation chased away all the dark and erased the glaring, accusatory headlines. You were in love, and nothing was wrong with that. If you could stamp your foot and shake your fist, you would declare it. But something rooted you in the bed, weighing down your limbs as morning faded into view.

The dawn glared through slits in the drapes, and you recoiled from a real burst of heat between your legs. When you looked down, there was no surge of hot water, but a tongue, and a mouth, and then a pair of eyes that did not match. His pixie nose squished against your mound. Henry fought off a smile but could not stifle an excitable laugh.

“Mm, good morning.”

“What is this? And from my sweet little Christian boy?” You had to tease him one more time.

He nipped back with lips sheathed over his teeth. “Would a sweet boy wake you up this way?”

It was your turn to stifle a titter. “Um, yes. This is exactly what a sweet boy would do.”

“I remembered what you said about how...” His words strayed as his attention pulled away from your face and went back to your clit. Henry smeared the entirety of his tongue between your pussy lips, opening you wide for another, similar licking.

“Oh-oh, my god,” you squeaked before clapping a hand over your mouth in disbelief.

Maybe it was your senses lagging in waking up with you, but the feeling of Henry’s mouth on your pussy sent stronger jolts of stimulation through your body than you could handle. He spent an obscene moment parting the lush skin, spitting and sucking it all back up into his mouth. When he deposited that same bubble of saliva in the same spot, you groaned out without shame.

It may have been the most arousing thing you had ever witnessed, and a voice screamed out for you to capture it. Your phone was plugged in beside the bed, only an arm’s length away, so you reached and dragged it across the blankets, clicking on the camera before Henry had the chance to notice. He was busy, after all.

Henry hummed, his lips encircling your clit before speaking. “Woke up so hungry for your pussy, baby. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I just remembered how good we fucked last night, and I needed you again.”

A short gasp left him when he looked up and saw your phone pointed at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I just need this, okay?”

“Why? I’m right here, right now.”

“I want to remember how good you look eating my pussy.”

Those words became the new headline of your day, and when Henry finished you, he had to clamp your legs to his shoulders to keep you from shaking. The man didn’t want a thing in return besides the taste of your orgasm on his tongue, refusing a quick blowjob to insist you get ready for work.

He liked it when you got into the office before him. It gave people the impression that you were more diligent in your job than he was, which wasn’t a far cry in his business. People with positions like Henry’s were rarely scrutinized for their tardiness. If you showed up on time while he sauntered in of his own volition, it might deter people from asking too many questions about you.

You were uncertain of how much rumour had gone around about the blow-up in Henry’s office. As you walked through and quietly greeted the familiar people of your floor, there was no detectable air of tension. Still, it was hard not to be on edge, and when you took your first bathroom break of the morning, it confirmed your suspicions.

Henry texted you to say there was a hold-up at his brunch meeting before he could make it in, so your workday would comprise following up on important dates and intercepting phone calls from his lawyers. It also meant you could slack off, but not in plain sight.

With one earbud in, you tried not to laugh at silly videos on the internet. You weren’t using the washroom, per se, merely adopting it as an excuse to kick back for a self-dictated amount of time. Henry had been right about a lot, one of his points being the office was laid back, and prolonged absences here and there set off no alarms.

The washroom door gusted open, and two sets of kitten heels clicked over the floor. Neither of them made a path to the stall beside you. Instead, they went to the mirrors above the sinks. You paused the video you were watching out of habit and held your breath.

“I mean, he is good-looking. In that weird psycho-killer looking way, but I never imagined him single. He and Mary just seemed like one of those untouchable couples. The ones that meet in high school and die side-by-side sort of thing.”

“You think he’s good-looking?”

“Hell yes, girl. His eyes might be a little spooky, but I’m into it. He’s got a nice smile.”

“I guess. And tall.”

“You know what that means.”

Your palms dampened as you tried to spy the two women talking about your boyfriend through the cracks in the stall door. You thought about clearing your throat to alert them to your presence, but it was too late. There was much to hear.

“I heard he’s already got a new girlfriend.”

A gasp pealed through the washroom, echoing off the porcelain. “What? How do you know?”

“That’s what one of Mary’s friends from across said. That’s how she found out. Supposedly, somebody saw ol’ Mr. Deaver getting close with a lady.”

“Where?” The voices carried off on the backs of heels.

When they left, you noticed how tense your shoulders were. There was nothing you could do about what they said, but it didn’t stop you from grinding your teeth.

After a short time, you went through your videos and clicked the thumbnail showing Henry’s brown hair between your thighs. A smirk cracked over your face as you popped in your other earbud and turned up the volume to better hear the sloppy, wet sounds of Henry’s tongue lapping at your pussy.

“Mm, yes, baby. Please come on my tongue. You can do it. Come all over my face. Do it for me.”

#henry deaver x mistress #henry deaver fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgård x reader #tw #tw sleep sex

137 notes · View notes