318. The Midfuck Meme

[glocksucker]

MIDFUCK MEME

♋ Respond with your character(s) and put their name and canon in the subject bar. (You can make blank comments with < ! >. Remove the spaces).
♋ Respond to other character(s) with your own as if you are right in the middle of having sex. How did it happen? Who started it? Who is topping who? All that matters is they are in the middle of

Comments

8C Awww! ..lol apparently there's one this weekend in my old town in NJ XD

[heavenonhigh]

[Cheerfully.] Nope.

[But he makes no move to free his hands, just nuzzles at the nape of Dean's neck as they reach the bed. He looks it over and has to snort. It's a damn nice bed, and it looks totally out of place in its environment. Part of him is thinking it has to be part of a spell of some kind, maybe left over from the creature he'd killed, but there doesn't seem to be anything sinister about it. ...Nothing more sinister than the extremely convenient hook that's jutting out of the headboard, anyway. He grins and pushes Dean down gently, giving him some space to shuffle onto the bed while he shrugs off his jacket. Too hot for that, and if he's honest it's getting in the way, a barrier between himself and Dean that he doesn't feel like dealing with anymore. He also kicks off his boots; they're dirty, caked with mud from his lack of attention while following Dean here.

Straddling Dean's hips, he presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth before picking his arms up, setting the ropes into the aforementioned convenient hook. He frowns at it like it's personally offended him, though, when he realizes that this is probably what the creature had had in mind, at least part of it. Generally, Cas isn't given to jealousy, but in this case he can't really help it. Never mind the fact that she'd been... Whatever she was, and had been using whatever unnatural means she'd used to get Dean to go along with her; Cas can't get the image of her in his place out of his mind and he growls, dragging his hands down Dean's chest more possessively than he'd like to admit it. He has no illusions- he doesn't own Dean and it's not in his nature to desire such a thing; he leans down to kiss him again anyway, slower than before, less teeth and more soft brush of lips.]

Mmm..

[Resting his hands on Dean's shoulders, he rocks down slightly, rough denim rubbing against Dean's hardness, smiling slowly into the kiss.]

[winchester_lost]

[Dean would like to shoot Cass a look when the man all-too-cheerfully agrees that his hands don't have to be tied, but makes no move to untie him as he maneuvers him to the bed. A bed that looks way too luxurious for the dungeon surroundings, but Dean isn't about to complain. At least, not until Cass is settled on his hips and sliding the hope that binds his arms into the hook on the headboard. And there's a click, a latch to it that only moves one way, making it nice and difficult for Dean to try and get himself free.

Dean yanks out of reflex, struggles underneath Cass, even as his breath comes quicker. Somehow better than with that monster. Somehow being close to helpless underneath Cass is a very pleasant trip, if one he'd never quite thought of himself as into. There's a gasp from Dean's full lips when Cass growls, something in the way that hands drag over his chest that makes him shiver. That gasp shifts into an almost silent murmur as their lips meet; softer, less teeth, and he leans into it, enjoying the simple affection.

When Cass rocks against him, denim rubbing against his erection, the noise he makes is hot and rough and wanton, his eyes closing tight as he jerks against him. His hands yanking against their binds, but it isn't any more productive than it was before.]

[heavenonhigh]

[There's a flash of heat that goes straight to his cock as Dean struggles to free himself from the ropes that bind his hands, hips jerking, bumping their erections together and he moans into Dean's mouth, deepening the kiss. Under normal circumstances, Dean's constant fightfightfight response is something he admires a great deal; in the current situation, however, he's finding it to be way more of a turn on than it has any right to be, not that he's complaining. He files it away under Things That Please Me Sexually and rolls his hips down again, gasping hotly against Dean's mouth. The sensation is muted somewhat by his jeans- they'll need to go soon.]

oh--

[He slides his hands from Dean's chest to his arms, fingers tracing the outline of the muscles still pulled taut against their bonds. Without his grace, Dean is physically stronger than him; it's not that Cas is necessarily weak, but Dean's body has been conditioned for strength practically from birth and it shows, especially now, and the knowledge that for all of that strength Dean's at his mercy right now has Cas's dick twitching and leaking against his fly. Pressing closer so that they're chest to chest, he mouths kisses down the side of Dean's neck and over his marked shoulder, tongue flattening over his handprint. One of his hands smooths down his side and slips behind him to trail fingers down his spine, pressing lightly as he imagines the beautiful way his back would arch if Cas were to get him off like this, bound and straining...

Reluctantly he moves away to tug his shirt over his head, dropping it carelessly over the side of the bed. The air is cool but for once he doesn't notice or doesn't care, his body's too heated, light flush blossoming over his skin. He plucks at the button of his fly, yanks the zipper open and slides his jeans and boxers off of his hips, cock finally freed from the confines of the denim, hard and curving against his belly. Kicking his jeans to the floor along with his shirt he leans over Dean again, icy blue eyes meeting bright hazel-green.]

[winchester_lost]

[Dean murmurs hot and low against Cass' lips as the other man deepens the kiss, moaning into his lips. His struggles are doing absolutely nothing to free his arms from the ropes that bind him. His hips jerking, twitching his body against Cass' erection through the rough denim of his jeans, and it makes Dean whimper, even as the friction feels good. He jerks, pulling at the way his hands are stubbornly afixed to the headboard, a little baffled by how those delicate knots in the rope that winds around his arms holds his wrists together with too much strength for him to even budge.

He shivers as Cass traces his fingers over his muscles as they flex with Dean's attempt to fight his bonds. Cass is, he decides distantly, enjoying having him tied up far too much. Of course, truth is that it's stealing a twisted sort of heat through his body, flushing his skin as he trembles against the man above him. Dean isn't used to being tied up, isn't used to being restrained, and in the absence of whatever pheremone drug that monster had been affecting him with, he can't fight that desire to free himself. The fact that he can't has his cock twitching against Cass' body, moisture beading against the tip as he moans into the kiss, slipping their tongues together.

Cass' mouth slipping away from Dean's to press kisses against his neck and he's shaking at the feel of it. He's stronger than Cass now; it's a fact, proven in those moments when Dean's temper gets the better of him, and he's coming at Cass all fists and aggression. No matter that those moments usually end with anger sated in a different kind of friction, there's never been any doubt that he could beat the graceless angel in a straight fight. And yet, for the moment, he's at Cass' mercy until the man lets him go. He should ask for it, demand that Cass undo his hands, but he doesn't. Instead, he's gasping, his breath hitching in his throat as tongue presses against the handprint burned into his shoulder. It makes his cock twitch, his hips rolling up to try and get more friction, more contract, more touch when he's unable to take it for himself. He arches as fingers slide down his spine, and he wants to pull him close, touch and hold onto him.

And most certainly keep him from pulling away. But all Dean can do is growl wantonly through his teeth as he watches Cass, the way his body is revealed as tee-shirt and then denims hit the ground. It's a sight he doesn't often savor, usually faqr more concerned with touching and feeling. But tied up like this, he's forced to be good and watch. His eyes lewdly dropping down to Cass' cock, a breathy murmur on his lips before he looks back up to meet his eyes. He wants this. He wants it like this, and that's a surprising thought as burning hazel-greens look into sharp blues.]

[heavenonhigh]

[Leaning over Dean again, Cas straddles his hips, letting his hands wander down his arms and eventually settle on his shoulders, curling over flesh slicked with sweat. He can feel muscles tight with exertion under his fingertips and he lets his nails scrape lightly as they travel down Dean's chest, pinching hard at his nipples before pulling away again. He slides back, settling over Dean's thighs, more to maintain a bit of distance between them than to hold Dean down... Though that's appealing as well. Cas knows if he really wanted to Dean could buck him off easily, but their eyes are still locked and there's a flicker in that hazel-green gaze that suggests Dean is enjoying this just as much as he is; he stays seated where he is, bending forward only slightly to seal their mouths together again.

The kiss is heated, slick and filthy and Cas pushes his tongue past Dean's lips, licks into his mouth as his hands move over skin, taking his time in a way he rarely has the opportunity to enjoy. He loves the feel of him under his fingers, and he trails them down Dean's sides, skims over the tops of his thighs... He swipes his thumb up over his cock too, but it's a brief, fleeting touch meant more to tease than for any kind of relief.

It sends a shiver of pleasure through his body, the way he can feel Dean's body responding to his touch; he aches for some of that contact himself and so he moves a hand to his own cock. Wrapping long fingers around his length, he gasps into the kiss as he starts to move his hand. His strokes are quick, shallow jerks that are just enough to have him panting against Dean's lips, soft breathless sighs as he lifts his free hand and curls it over the curve of Dean's neck. He presses his forehead to Dean's, letting his eyes flutter closed as his mind wanders to imagining the feel of Dean's fingers wrapped around him, of Dean getting him off like this.]

Oh, Dean...

[His eyes slit open again and peer into Dean's. He knows it must be infuriating, to watch but not be able to touch; it would be for him, it'd be nothing short of torturous... He nips at Dean's bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth, letting his thumb stroke over the tendon at the side of his neck before sliding his hand into his hair, up over his arm and inching closer to his bonds.]

Strange desire to tag this scene, rofl. AND SO.

[winchester_lost]

[Dean shivers under the press of Cass' hands, the way that they move over his arms and curve into sweat-sheened shoulders. Dean can't help the way his muscles tense, flexing under the touches, against the pressure, but there's something perverse and delightful about the fact that the ropes coiled in pretty twists and turns don't budge for all his strength. He moans, jerks into the other man's fingers when they scrape against skin only to pinch hard against his nipples; his cock twitches at the sensations, his body trembling. It's that feeling of delight; heady, exhilarating, hot as his heart races in his ribcage that keeps him still when Cass climbs on top of him. Because he wants this, wants it like this, and he knows it's searing in the honey-green of his eyes as he looks up into those blues.

He's all desire, heat and willingness when Cass kisses him. He returns it with a low murmur of pleasure in the back of his throat as his lips part under the other man's tongue, almost invitation as his tongue slides against Cass'. There's a muffled noise, sharp and wanton that might have been a whine when there's that brief touch against his cock, teasing, and it makes his body arch. It's not enough to displace Cass from his thighs; almost as if Dean likes him there.

And then Cass is jerking fingers against his own cock, and it's torture to have to watch. His eyes fluttering, gasping sharply against the way the other man pants into his mouth. He tilts his head into the hand that presses against the side of his neck, a flutter of eyelashes and a low groan at the way that Cass says his name. His voice is thin and hot with this feeling humming inside his body; it's torture to not be allowed to touch, but it's a torture he likes.

Not that he doesn't want his hands all over Cass, touching and tasting and getting him off with lips and fingers, but there's a trust to this, and it has his pulse racing. Something he thought he couldn't, didn't know how to give until Cass was so gleefully refusing to untie him. He should have insisted, should have made it clear he wasn't playing around. Instead, having that bit of control taken away from him is nothing if not a relentless turn on that Dean wouldn't know how to begin to admit to.]

Cass..

[Dean's breath comes shaky, a little uncertain as Cass' fingers slide through his hair and slip closer to those restraints. His body shivers, and he kisses him, because he doesn't know how to ask for what he wants.]

ehehehehe because it's awesome? /perving like a boss aw yeah

[heavenonhigh]

[Cas allows himself one more pass of his hand, one more squeeze of fingers wrapped around his length that pulls a low whine from his throat, back arching and hips jerking into the touch before moving his hand away to stroke slowly at Dean's cock. Still only light touches, just enough to make Dean want but not enough for any kind of relief.

He feels dizzy, both with the physical pleasure and the high it's giving him to be in control, to render Dean's considerable strength useless until he decides to let him go. Control of this nature isn't usually something he craves but right now he's drunk on it; their relationship is a one of constant give and take: bruises, aggression, affection-- right now he wants to take.

Breaking the kiss, his lips twitch into a smile against Dean's as his fingers toy with the knots holding his hands together. He's eyeing his knife where he'd dropped it on the side of the bed; it's not far.]

What do you want, Dean?

[Cas knows exactly what he wants: he wants Dean, wants Dean's hands on him, Dean's body fucking him into this ludicrously extravagant bed. Wants Dean to want him more than that woman he'd followed here. He wants so much it aches, and he nibbles at Dean's lips as fingers ghost over his cock, trying to goad him into wanting it too.]