SPN RPS: Off Script, Jensen/Misha (NC-17)
Jan. 25th, 2011 04:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annundrielOff Script
Jensen/Misha
NC-17
1125
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
blindfold_spn fill originally posted here for the prompt: Jensen likes the Castiel voice.
Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
krystalicekitsu and shetiger for pushing me to make it a little longer and a little better. ♥♥
Jensen takes the opportunity to shift on the couch, looking for some relief, when Misha—licking a thumb to turn the page—looks back at his script. Jensen’s script is in his lap, and that’s where it’ll be staying until he can calm down a little, get a grip. Not literally, obviously, much as he would like to. That’ll have to wait until later, when Misha’s gone. When Jensen can pop the button of his jeans and unzip his fly, strip naked and fuck himself on his fingers, slip his cock through his own fist with the sound of Misha’s voice lingering in his ear.
No, not Misha’s voice. Cas’ voice. That goddamn voice that sneaks beneath Jensen’s skin when Jensen least wants it to, that makes concentrating during scenes and read-throughs a task of herculean proportions.
Jensen used to be so professional. Now all it takes to knock him for a loop is Misha’s voice dipping low, curling smooth and rough against Jensen’s skin in the same way he’d like Misha’s fingers to curl around his cock. And, oh, there’s a thought; Misha’s fingers sliding against Jensen’s skin as Misha’s lips brush his ear, Misha’s voice, Cas’ voice settling in the shell of it, sinking in until the only sound in the world is that voice, raising goose bumps and setting Jensen’s heart racing.
One day he’ll snap on set, pin Misha against a wall or the Impala, a conveniently placed bed. He’ll rut against Misha, hips snapping and breath coming hard as Misha’s voice goes from high and surprised to deep and pleased, slipping from one to the other so easily, so readily at the touch of Jensen’s fingers, the glide of Jensen’s tongue.
Squirming on the couch, Jensen looks up and catches Misha watching him, eyes narrow and dark.
“What?” Jensen asks. His own voice comes out strangled, thick. There’s too much there, and Jensen swallows, clears his throat, tries to dispel the heavy tightness that’s gathering from the neck down.
Misha just watches him, lips parted.
Jensen wants to slide the head of his cock over those lips, feel that voice vibrating across him, Misha’s breath hot against him. He wants to smear come across those lips, lean down and lick them clean, suck and taste as Misha’s voice rumbles his name in the small spaces between them.
He tries to put the thought out of his mind and tries again. “What?” It’s better. He sounds less like Dean and more like himself, less tangled and desperate than he feels.
Misha tilts his head, bird-like. Castiel-like.
The silence between them is thick, and Jensen wishes Misha would just say something.
Misha doesn’t. He shrugs and licks his lips, setting his script on Jensen’s coffee table as he stands, moving to close the distance between them.
Jensen looks up at him, the flat plane of his chest, the shadowed curve of his neck. Those eyes. He wants to look away, but he can’t. Wants to get up and move, but Misha’s right there, penning him in.
“Misha—”
“Fuck, Jensen,” Misha says, voice low, grating perfectly over every one of Jensen’s nerves. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
And then Misha’s on his knees, hands in Jensen’s hair, on Jensen’s arms, slipping beneath his t-shirt. He pulls Jensen’s script out of the way to find Jensen’s cock pressing hard against his zipper, presses the heel of his hand against it and catches Jensen’s groan in his mouth. Whispers all the things he’d like to do to Jensen, all the things he’s wanted to do for so long.
Misha’s fingers brush low against Jensen’s stomach, hot against his skin as he works Jensen’s fly open, pulling it down and out of the way. Mouth pressed against Jensen’s cotton-covered cock, Misha looks up at him through dark eyelashes, eyes more knowing than they have any right to be.
“Is this what you’ve been thinking about?” he asks, voice somewhere between his own and Castiel’s, some perfect balance that reverberates in Jensen’s bones, coiling heat in his belly, his balls.
Jensen grasps at the back of the couch, fingers digging into the cushions, and nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I—”
Misha rubs his cheek against Jensen’s erection, looking away. “Me, or him?”
“What?”
Misha’s expression is unreadable, but he meets Jensen’s eyes. “Me,” he says, “or him.”
Jensen’s confused for a moment, then gets what Misha’s asking in a rush, understanding the delineation. Licking his lips, he watches Misha’s eyes follow the movement. “You.” Jensen’s voice shakes. “There isn’t anything without you.”
It’s the right thing to say, because Misha’s lips quirk and his eyes soften, his fingers slip into Jensen’s shorts, pull Jensen free. “Good,” Misha says, breath blowing across Jensen’s skin, voice containing the perfect amount of edge. “Good.”
Misha’s mouth is perfect on Jensen’s cock, hot and wet and wide, and it’s all Jensen can do to keep his hips from jerking, to keep himself from fucking Misha’s mouth like it was made for it.
He lets himself touch, though, can’t actually keep his hands away when Misha looks up at him, pink lips stretched around Jensen. Sliding fingers through Misha’s hair, Jensen hangs on as Misha pulls off far enough to lap at the head, dips back down to mouth at the shaft. He hangs on as Misha licks and sucks, humming around him until Jensen feels lit up from the inside out, electrified by Misha’s touch, by Misha’s voice.
Jensen groans when Misha pulls away, but then Misha’s wrapping a warm hand around his spit-slick shaft, stroking him slowly. Misha presses a kiss just under the head, lips pink and abused, and the sight of him is almost more than Jensen can take.
“Fuck,” Jensen breathes. “Fuck.”
Misha smirks, eyes dancing. “Maybe later,” he says, and Jensen feels it from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, feels that voice twist him up inside until it’s all too much and he’s coming with Misha’s name on his lips and Misha’s voice in his head.
Misha’s voice, or Cas’ voice. It doesn’t—Jensen swallows and tries to catch his breath—it doesn’t really matter, not anymore. Not when Misha’s on his knees between Jensen’s thighs, lips shiny and slick, eyes expectant.
There’s come on Misha’s jaw, and Jensen brushes it away with his thumb before lifting his hand to his mouth, sucking it off of his own skin. Misha’s eyes widen and Jensen smirks, leaning down to kiss Misha with a slow, lewd slide of lips and tongue.
“C’mon,” Jensen says, pushing Misha away. “I think it’s later now.”
The script gets left behind, crumpled and ruined on the couch.
They don’t need it where they’re going.
Jensen/Misha
NC-17
1125
blindfold_spn fill originally posted here for the prompt: Jensen likes the Castiel voice.Many thanks to
krystalicekitsu and shetiger for pushing me to make it a little longer and a little better. ♥♥Jensen takes the opportunity to shift on the couch, looking for some relief, when Misha—licking a thumb to turn the page—looks back at his script. Jensen’s script is in his lap, and that’s where it’ll be staying until he can calm down a little, get a grip. Not literally, obviously, much as he would like to. That’ll have to wait until later, when Misha’s gone. When Jensen can pop the button of his jeans and unzip his fly, strip naked and fuck himself on his fingers, slip his cock through his own fist with the sound of Misha’s voice lingering in his ear.
No, not Misha’s voice. Cas’ voice. That goddamn voice that sneaks beneath Jensen’s skin when Jensen least wants it to, that makes concentrating during scenes and read-throughs a task of herculean proportions.
Jensen used to be so professional. Now all it takes to knock him for a loop is Misha’s voice dipping low, curling smooth and rough against Jensen’s skin in the same way he’d like Misha’s fingers to curl around his cock. And, oh, there’s a thought; Misha’s fingers sliding against Jensen’s skin as Misha’s lips brush his ear, Misha’s voice, Cas’ voice settling in the shell of it, sinking in until the only sound in the world is that voice, raising goose bumps and setting Jensen’s heart racing.
One day he’ll snap on set, pin Misha against a wall or the Impala, a conveniently placed bed. He’ll rut against Misha, hips snapping and breath coming hard as Misha’s voice goes from high and surprised to deep and pleased, slipping from one to the other so easily, so readily at the touch of Jensen’s fingers, the glide of Jensen’s tongue.
Squirming on the couch, Jensen looks up and catches Misha watching him, eyes narrow and dark.
“What?” Jensen asks. His own voice comes out strangled, thick. There’s too much there, and Jensen swallows, clears his throat, tries to dispel the heavy tightness that’s gathering from the neck down.
Misha just watches him, lips parted.
Jensen wants to slide the head of his cock over those lips, feel that voice vibrating across him, Misha’s breath hot against him. He wants to smear come across those lips, lean down and lick them clean, suck and taste as Misha’s voice rumbles his name in the small spaces between them.
He tries to put the thought out of his mind and tries again. “What?” It’s better. He sounds less like Dean and more like himself, less tangled and desperate than he feels.
Misha tilts his head, bird-like. Castiel-like.
The silence between them is thick, and Jensen wishes Misha would just say something.
Misha doesn’t. He shrugs and licks his lips, setting his script on Jensen’s coffee table as he stands, moving to close the distance between them.
Jensen looks up at him, the flat plane of his chest, the shadowed curve of his neck. Those eyes. He wants to look away, but he can’t. Wants to get up and move, but Misha’s right there, penning him in.
“Misha—”
“Fuck, Jensen,” Misha says, voice low, grating perfectly over every one of Jensen’s nerves. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
And then Misha’s on his knees, hands in Jensen’s hair, on Jensen’s arms, slipping beneath his t-shirt. He pulls Jensen’s script out of the way to find Jensen’s cock pressing hard against his zipper, presses the heel of his hand against it and catches Jensen’s groan in his mouth. Whispers all the things he’d like to do to Jensen, all the things he’s wanted to do for so long.
Misha’s fingers brush low against Jensen’s stomach, hot against his skin as he works Jensen’s fly open, pulling it down and out of the way. Mouth pressed against Jensen’s cotton-covered cock, Misha looks up at him through dark eyelashes, eyes more knowing than they have any right to be.
“Is this what you’ve been thinking about?” he asks, voice somewhere between his own and Castiel’s, some perfect balance that reverberates in Jensen’s bones, coiling heat in his belly, his balls.
Jensen grasps at the back of the couch, fingers digging into the cushions, and nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I—”
Misha rubs his cheek against Jensen’s erection, looking away. “Me, or him?”
“What?”
Misha’s expression is unreadable, but he meets Jensen’s eyes. “Me,” he says, “or him.”
Jensen’s confused for a moment, then gets what Misha’s asking in a rush, understanding the delineation. Licking his lips, he watches Misha’s eyes follow the movement. “You.” Jensen’s voice shakes. “There isn’t anything without you.”
It’s the right thing to say, because Misha’s lips quirk and his eyes soften, his fingers slip into Jensen’s shorts, pull Jensen free. “Good,” Misha says, breath blowing across Jensen’s skin, voice containing the perfect amount of edge. “Good.”
Misha’s mouth is perfect on Jensen’s cock, hot and wet and wide, and it’s all Jensen can do to keep his hips from jerking, to keep himself from fucking Misha’s mouth like it was made for it.
He lets himself touch, though, can’t actually keep his hands away when Misha looks up at him, pink lips stretched around Jensen. Sliding fingers through Misha’s hair, Jensen hangs on as Misha pulls off far enough to lap at the head, dips back down to mouth at the shaft. He hangs on as Misha licks and sucks, humming around him until Jensen feels lit up from the inside out, electrified by Misha’s touch, by Misha’s voice.
Jensen groans when Misha pulls away, but then Misha’s wrapping a warm hand around his spit-slick shaft, stroking him slowly. Misha presses a kiss just under the head, lips pink and abused, and the sight of him is almost more than Jensen can take.
“Fuck,” Jensen breathes. “Fuck.”
Misha smirks, eyes dancing. “Maybe later,” he says, and Jensen feels it from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, feels that voice twist him up inside until it’s all too much and he’s coming with Misha’s name on his lips and Misha’s voice in his head.
Misha’s voice, or Cas’ voice. It doesn’t—Jensen swallows and tries to catch his breath—it doesn’t really matter, not anymore. Not when Misha’s on his knees between Jensen’s thighs, lips shiny and slick, eyes expectant.
There’s come on Misha’s jaw, and Jensen brushes it away with his thumb before lifting his hand to his mouth, sucking it off of his own skin. Misha’s eyes widen and Jensen smirks, leaning down to kiss Misha with a slow, lewd slide of lips and tongue.
“C’mon,” Jensen says, pushing Misha away. “I think it’s later now.”
The script gets left behind, crumpled and ruined on the couch.
They don’t need it where they’re going.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 12:53 am (UTC)Misha rubs his cheek against Jensen’s erection, looking away. “Me, or him?”
“What?”
Misha’s expression is unreadable, but he meets Jensen’s eyes. “Me,” he says, “or him.”
Jensen’s confused for a moment, then gets what Misha’s asking in a rush, understanding the delineation. Licking his lips, he watches Misha’s eyes follow the movement. “You.” Jensen’s voice shakes. “There isn’t anything without you.”
Oh! I just love this part because it shows that while Dean finds Castiel's voice a kink it's Misha who really gets his motor running. Yes!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-29 06:41 am (UTC)I really like the idea that Misha would want Jensen to be able to make the difference. And that Jensen would be able to. I'm glad you enjoyed it, thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 03:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-31 03:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 07:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 09:57 am (UTC)I really loved that Jensen has a kink for Castiel's voice. (and I'm sure it's vice versa too. :p) But in the end it's Misha's. I always thought Cas' was Misha's sex voice anyway. ^^
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:35 am (UTC)Well there's a good thought. ;)
I'm so happy you enjoyed it, thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 11:13 am (UTC)and oh, that one time with the completely cracked voice in the hospital. Hottest Dean!voice ever.
Dunno why. Or maybe it's got something to do with my icon. But i didn't say that.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 12:41 pm (UTC)Oh my god, so much love for this entire thing but that line makes me :D like a loon. It's so sexy and hot and perfect, and Jensen's wanting and Misha just being "ok sexy tiemz" and yeahhhh. You are amazing and I have nothing but love for you. Guh.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 05:31 pm (UTC)... UNF.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:41 am (UTC)So happy you enjoyed it!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 05:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 06:47 pm (UTC)*dead*
No, seriously, that image? HOT. I love Jensen being smug even though he's the one who just got blown.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:47 am (UTC)Hee! Me too. It's 'cause he knows exactly what lewd things he's going to do to Misha. Often and repeatedly.
So happy you liked it! Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 07:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:50 am (UTC)So happy you liked it.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 09:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 09:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 10:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-27 09:32 am (UTC)I have this eat shit grin on my face near 2am.
I need sleep but this was hot...and now I'm bothered D: LOL
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 10:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-27 11:07 am (UTC)I really, really love this bit:
Misha’s expression is unreadable, but he meets Jensen’s eyes. “Me,” he says, “or him.”
Jensen’s confused for a moment, then gets what Misha’s asking in a rush, understanding the delineation. Licking his lips, he watches Misha’s eyes follow the movement. “You.” Jensen’s voice shakes. “There isn’t anything without you.”
It’s the right thing to say, because Misha’s lips quirk and his eyes soften, his fingers slip into Jensen’s shorts, pull Jensen free. “Good,” Misha says, breath blowing across Jensen’s skin, voice containing the perfect amount of edge. “Good.”
Just...perfect :D
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 10:25 pm (UTC)I'm so happy that you liked it! Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-29 07:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-04 02:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 07:01 am (UTC)From a craft standpoint, you're really, really good at evoking a suffocating, I-can't-do-this-without-you atmosphere. I felt the tension here, and the aching and the longing. It was beautiful and filthy at the same time, which is really a matter of your word choice and the way you put sentences together.
Also, you do this throughout but here's one example:
And, oh, there’s a thought;
I love the sort of conversation style this has, as if it's a bit of Jensen peeking into the third-person narrator. Plus, what you choose to italicize and emphasis? Lovely. Makes me read it differently in my head and I think that has an impact on me as a reader. (hint: a really sexy impact.)
Ahhhh. I love your porn. It's luscious and raw and pretty and so well-written. I would legit read anything from you (yes, even Wincest.)
Great job. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-13 06:03 pm (UTC)Thank you, hon. It means a lot to me that not only did you like the fic, but that you also like the style. And from the craft standpoint...oh gosh. Just. Thank you. I think by now you probably know (or can guess) how much that means to me. I'm so happy that overall it all works for you.
I would legit read anything from you (yes, even Wincest.)
Good to know. ;) (Though I don't really see that latter pairing happening with me.)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-06 04:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-13 04:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-27 10:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-12 04:07 am (UTC)I'm really happy you enjoyed it!