[personal profile] thecatevari
Okay, now I kind of want this thing where Jensen is a drag torch singer, and Jeff comes and hears him sing and is all "RAWR" about it and at some point (maybe that night, maybe after a few nights of talking and flirting with Jensen first) he's got Jensen backed up against the wall and they're kind of talking and making out at the same time and then Jeff reaches between Jensen's legs and Jensen's all "Oh...oh, wait, don't!" because he's not sure if Jeff REALLY knows about him and he doesn't want to ruin the illusion and everything and Jeff's like, "It's all right sweetheart," *petpetkisskiss* "I just want to see what you look like when you come."

*facepalms* I clearly have no pride and no sanity left.

ALSO (though I have no expectation that anyone is ACTUALLY writing DragJensen for me) I want aftercare cuddling on a frou frou velvet divan with Jensen shuddering with aftershocks and Jeff petting and whispering sweet nothings ("That's my girl. That's my good girl"). BECAUSE I AM OBSESSED AND WRONG IN THE HEAD.

ALSO. I have been sort of wanting to write a sex pollen story where Sam ties Dean to a bed and then proceeds to rub his skin all over with the sex pollen flowers. I don't know where it goes from there exactly, but the image of Sam rubbing polleny petals all over Dean's skin is very pleasing in mine eyes.

And Dean's all wriggly squirmy, because the pollen's soaking into his skin and he's breathing it in and he's sweating and it's in his sweat and Sam keeps TOUCHING him, but it's all light, feather touches and satin petals and not skin and not ROUGH and Dean NEEDS and NEEDS and he's not above begging, no not at all, but Sam just keeps TEASING him and Dean thinks he's going to DIE except he CAN'T because SAM WON'T LET HIM.

And...and Sam gets a bit of a dose too, right? Since he's all THERE and shit, and can't stop leaning in every few minutes (hours? DAYS?, thinks Dean) to lick or bite at spots on Dean's body, so he just becomes EVEN MORE of a complete fucking bastard about it the longer he goes on.

And Dean KNOWS. He knows the more he squirms, the more Sam WANTS to see him squirm, but he can't help it, can't stay still. The petals aren't cool anymore. Each one of them burns its way across his skin and all he can do is sob and writhe and watch Sam watching him.

[livejournal.com profile] mona1347: And beg. Beg a lot. Like...a LOT. Until Sam grins this terrifying (in an awesome way) grin and threatens to get the gag, which Dean hates only slightly more than he loves. So even if he thinks Sam won't REALLY go get the gag, because he likes Dean's begging too much, Dean quits with the actual words. They were getting too hard to force out properly anyway. But he's totally helpless against the high keening and the low moaning that keeps escaping him because Sam just is not stopping and all Dean can do is twist and arch his body in the ways he knows Sam likes best and hope that Sam will get tired and decide to finally goddamn fuck him soon.

[livejournal.com profile] poisontaster: And really, Dean hadn't had the time to think about how it could get worse. Only the dark suspicion that it WOULD. Because by the time Sam quits with the petals, it's to pull Dean on his lap and grind his hips against Dean's, grind his cock between Dean's ass cheeks, and it's CLOSE. It's so fucking close to meaningful, useful friction, but NOT. It would take so little for Sam to just PUSH and Dean would open, he would so gratefully fucking OPEN, if Sam would just GO THERE, but Sam won't, laughing that dark, evil laugh while Dean trembles and twitches, already too spent to offer any help or resistance to whatever Sam wants to do with him.

[livejournal.com profile] nilchance: And Dean can't even push himself down on Sam, Sam's holding on too tight, and his stomach is slick and his dick is bobbing with every time he shudders and Sam is just rubbing off against him, rubbing his scent all over him.
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