Fic: Various (long) sentences
You know, the fun thing is, earlier this week we had a seminar about simple writing (I'm studying to be a technical writer, this is how I should work), and the first rule was not to write too much in one sentence. Six informations in one sentence and 20 words maximum are enough. The shortest sentence under this cut is 109 words, the longest 242. All for wendy's Sentence-a-thon Challenge, prompt Handcuffs. Written during the thunderstorms outside, by pulling pairing names on slips of paper out of a hat. No, I'm not kidding. Various fandoms.
Jared/Jensen/Jeff for wendy
Jeff hadn't quite believed his eyes when he'd come in, but here they were, Jared's arms up and drawn apart, wrists wrapped in the most ridiculous, bulky leather cuffs Jeff had ever seen - except they didn't look ridiculous on Jared at all, looked like they had been made for someone like Jared, with hands that size and muscles that strong - Jared wearing his boxers and a wide smile that made Jeff think of summer, and sun, and walking on the beach with Bisou - something he wouldn't ever be able to do again without thinking of sex, thank you very much - and Jensen kneeling at this side on the bed, an honest to God feather in his hand, that he used to tickle Jared's nipples, just as Jeff closed the door with a quiet click, Jared laughing and squirming as he panted, "Jeff, hey, glad you made it," while Jensen beckoned him closer and pressed the feather into Jeff's hand, leaning down to kiss Jared - who made the most delicious noises as he sucked on Jensen's tongue - before he kissed Jeff as well, tasting of Jared, and something darker, more bitter, as if they'd already gotten appetizers and had just been waiting for Jeff with the main dish.
JC/Lance for sweetchacha
It had almost been too easy, convincing Lance to do this, try out the new pink furry handcuffs Chris had given JC for his birthday, but then Lance hadn't known what JC had in store for him, how long he planned to leave Lance cuffed to the headboard, how he made Lance's body glisten with sweat and drops of precome, touch him and taste him until Lance was whispering, whimpering, begging, "C, enough now, c'mon," but JC didn't let him up, didn't let him do anything but feel and moan and spread his legs, JC lying between them and bending down to Lance's ear to whisper, "soon, baby, soon."
Sam/Dean for mickeym
The leather was soft - Dean didn't register much anymore, had forgotten where they were (motel room in Arkansas, just beyond the border), why they were here (spirit of a jealous ex-wife, standard salt & burn), or who had started this (Dean himself, by turning his back to his brother and crossing his wrists behind him), but he did know that the leather was soft and snug and secure, and he let that ground him, felt it keeping him from moving his hands apart, from reaching around and up, holding on to Sam's hips as he fucked Dean's mouth, pushing or maybe pulling - he wasn't even sure himself, but it didn't matter because it wasn't Dean's decision, hadn't been anymore once Sam had buckled the cuffs on and licked the shell of Dean's ear, "my choice tonight, huh?" so Dean just let Sam thrust in and out of his mouth, closed his eyes and did what he always did and gave his brother what he wanted.
Chris/JC for mickeym
"Don't touch," Chris whispers in his ear, "you need something to keep you from touching?" and JC nods, miserable, because he hates it, being restrained, but he knows if he isn't he won't be able to keep his hands off of Chris' body and Chris said, no, JC hadn't done anything wrong, he just wanted to do it on his terms tonight, be the one to touch JC and not the other way around, so when Chris tells him to put his arms behind his back, JC hesitates for a second only before he does it, feeling the cuffs go on, the first almost a surprise but the second expected, cool and smooth and so light on his skin he only remembers he's wearing them as he yanks on them when Chris is moving his hands and his mouth down JC's chest.
Evil!Sam/Dean for memphis86
"Deeeean," Sam - no, the thing in Sam's body, whatever it was - said again, adding a few more syllables and a lot more whining, "c'mon, let me go," blinking his puppy-dog eyes at Dean, who wasn't fooled, not even for a second, "yeah, I don't think so, you freak", to which Sam immediately protested, "'m not a freak, I'm your brother," and pulled at the handcuffs that Dean had swiped the last time he'd gotten arrested and had now used to secure Sam to the radiator, Sam sitting on the hard floor, which he complained about every other minute, while Dean was trying to find out what had gotten into Sam (literally) and why it made both of them - "Dean, please, just one hand, so I can take care of this," Sam glanced down at himself, then up again, "or of yours, please," licking his lips - Jesus, he had to find out why it made him so hard he was almost considering it, letting Sam out, letting him grope Dean, scratch and bite and claw at him until he drew blood, mark him like he had before Dean had wrestled him down, and he hoped to God that thing was pulling all the suggestions, all the blatant invitations to fuck that it was taunting Dean with out of Sam's mind rather than its own, because when Dean finally got it out of him he wanted to do that, with Sam, every single thing.
Jared/Dean for nu_breed
He knew it was fucked up, wrong on so many levels to let this guy tie him up, this guy who looked so much like his little brother, like a twin or something, only a few details off, like his smile (Sam never smiled much these days) and the missing scars Sam had all over his body but that this guy - Jared, he'd said his name was - had never gotten, to let Jared cuff his hands to a slat in the headboard, "I got them for Sandy, actually, before we - never mind," and that was the only time Jared let his smile fall, just a little, like he missed someone, but then Dean pulled on the cuffs and said, "c'mon," and Jared was grinning again, drawing one bitten fingernail down Dean's arm, and he rolled on top of Dean, careful with his weight, kissing his neck and his cheek and his mouth, Dean opening for him as if his life depended on it - and maybe it did, maybe this was his chance to forget Sammy and this burden Dad had put on Dean for a while and just live, starting right here, right now, in this bed.
Jared/Jensen/Jeff for wendy
Jeff hadn't quite believed his eyes when he'd come in, but here they were, Jared's arms up and drawn apart, wrists wrapped in the most ridiculous, bulky leather cuffs Jeff had ever seen - except they didn't look ridiculous on Jared at all, looked like they had been made for someone like Jared, with hands that size and muscles that strong - Jared wearing his boxers and a wide smile that made Jeff think of summer, and sun, and walking on the beach with Bisou - something he wouldn't ever be able to do again without thinking of sex, thank you very much - and Jensen kneeling at this side on the bed, an honest to God feather in his hand, that he used to tickle Jared's nipples, just as Jeff closed the door with a quiet click, Jared laughing and squirming as he panted, "Jeff, hey, glad you made it," while Jensen beckoned him closer and pressed the feather into Jeff's hand, leaning down to kiss Jared - who made the most delicious noises as he sucked on Jensen's tongue - before he kissed Jeff as well, tasting of Jared, and something darker, more bitter, as if they'd already gotten appetizers and had just been waiting for Jeff with the main dish.
JC/Lance for sweetchacha
It had almost been too easy, convincing Lance to do this, try out the new pink furry handcuffs Chris had given JC for his birthday, but then Lance hadn't known what JC had in store for him, how long he planned to leave Lance cuffed to the headboard, how he made Lance's body glisten with sweat and drops of precome, touch him and taste him until Lance was whispering, whimpering, begging, "C, enough now, c'mon," but JC didn't let him up, didn't let him do anything but feel and moan and spread his legs, JC lying between them and bending down to Lance's ear to whisper, "soon, baby, soon."
Sam/Dean for mickeym
The leather was soft - Dean didn't register much anymore, had forgotten where they were (motel room in Arkansas, just beyond the border), why they were here (spirit of a jealous ex-wife, standard salt & burn), or who had started this (Dean himself, by turning his back to his brother and crossing his wrists behind him), but he did know that the leather was soft and snug and secure, and he let that ground him, felt it keeping him from moving his hands apart, from reaching around and up, holding on to Sam's hips as he fucked Dean's mouth, pushing or maybe pulling - he wasn't even sure himself, but it didn't matter because it wasn't Dean's decision, hadn't been anymore once Sam had buckled the cuffs on and licked the shell of Dean's ear, "my choice tonight, huh?" so Dean just let Sam thrust in and out of his mouth, closed his eyes and did what he always did and gave his brother what he wanted.
Chris/JC for mickeym
"Don't touch," Chris whispers in his ear, "you need something to keep you from touching?" and JC nods, miserable, because he hates it, being restrained, but he knows if he isn't he won't be able to keep his hands off of Chris' body and Chris said, no, JC hadn't done anything wrong, he just wanted to do it on his terms tonight, be the one to touch JC and not the other way around, so when Chris tells him to put his arms behind his back, JC hesitates for a second only before he does it, feeling the cuffs go on, the first almost a surprise but the second expected, cool and smooth and so light on his skin he only remembers he's wearing them as he yanks on them when Chris is moving his hands and his mouth down JC's chest.
Evil!Sam/Dean for memphis86
"Deeeean," Sam - no, the thing in Sam's body, whatever it was - said again, adding a few more syllables and a lot more whining, "c'mon, let me go," blinking his puppy-dog eyes at Dean, who wasn't fooled, not even for a second, "yeah, I don't think so, you freak", to which Sam immediately protested, "'m not a freak, I'm your brother," and pulled at the handcuffs that Dean had swiped the last time he'd gotten arrested and had now used to secure Sam to the radiator, Sam sitting on the hard floor, which he complained about every other minute, while Dean was trying to find out what had gotten into Sam (literally) and why it made both of them - "Dean, please, just one hand, so I can take care of this," Sam glanced down at himself, then up again, "or of yours, please," licking his lips - Jesus, he had to find out why it made him so hard he was almost considering it, letting Sam out, letting him grope Dean, scratch and bite and claw at him until he drew blood, mark him like he had before Dean had wrestled him down, and he hoped to God that thing was pulling all the suggestions, all the blatant invitations to fuck that it was taunting Dean with out of Sam's mind rather than its own, because when Dean finally got it out of him he wanted to do that, with Sam, every single thing.
Jared/Dean for nu_breed
He knew it was fucked up, wrong on so many levels to let this guy tie him up, this guy who looked so much like his little brother, like a twin or something, only a few details off, like his smile (Sam never smiled much these days) and the missing scars Sam had all over his body but that this guy - Jared, he'd said his name was - had never gotten, to let Jared cuff his hands to a slat in the headboard, "I got them for Sandy, actually, before we - never mind," and that was the only time Jared let his smile fall, just a little, like he missed someone, but then Dean pulled on the cuffs and said, "c'mon," and Jared was grinning again, drawing one bitten fingernail down Dean's arm, and he rolled on top of Dean, careful with his weight, kissing his neck and his cheek and his mouth, Dean opening for him as if his life depended on it - and maybe it did, maybe this was his chance to forget Sammy and this burden Dad had put on Dean for a while and just live, starting right here, right now, in this bed.