The Midfuck Meme

[randomjournal]

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 it.
♋ Want to add some direction and maybe a little kink? Take a spin on the Random Number Generator to give yourself a location. (Change the max from 100 to "10").
♋ Have fun threading out hot sex. Maybe they'll want another go, afterward.~
 

1. Between These Sheets
It's traditional and cliche, but we all know that beds in these kind of situations can come in handy.~

2. Sex On the Beach
Hot sand, cool water, sunrise or sunset, all you know if you don't care where you might be getting dirty as long as it's fun.

3. On Wheels
Car in a parking lot, truck on the road, motorcycle on the side of the highway, maybe even in the back of a carriage on your way home from the ball. Have fun smutting it up when you should be on the road.

4. There's More Than Hot Water Here
You're pressed against the wall of the shower, clinging to the sides of that bathtub, or maybe even holding on the stairs of that indoor pool. Too bad you'll have to get clean all over again.

5. My Body Is Your Bread
Crucifixes, altars, and confessionals, but this isn't the kind of worship you had in mind. Or is it?

6. Getting Creative With Furniture
Who said beds are the only nice furniture in the house? Couches, walls, tables, desks, any space can fit your needs for the moment. And don't forget the office, too. Just make sure your coworkers don't hear you.

7. Try This On For Size
You're in the changing room, but you're not trying on those clothes when you have enough to take off. Maybe that outfit did really make you look good enough to eat.

8. Shhhhhh, this Is the Good Part
It's dark and the only light is from the silver screen. But you're not paying attention to it so much as the person your came with--or met when you got there.

9. A Quickie Behind the Tree
A private place? Who needs one when you have a forest, or a park, or even an alley right there beside that building. You're outside and you don't care who could walk by.

10. We Have Ways of Making You Scream.
Dark, damp, and maybe even a little musty, but this dungeon is full of surprises. Those chains and whips could come in handy

Comments

6

[teenyoda]

It had started out as an argument, both boys getting more and more verbally aggressive until it had transformed into a fight. Not the sort with punches thrown, but the pushing, shoving, grabbing kind of fight that had them pushed up against walls and banging into tables and counters even while they kept slinging insults at each other. Stiles couldn't say who started it or even when it had happened, but between one breath and the next, the pushing and shoving had become gripping and pulling and the insults were hard to get out when lips were mashed together, teeth clashing and tongues shoving past opening mouths to battle each other.

He felt the popping of stitches in his shirt as it was pulled and yanked and almost torn off over his head. Stiles reciprocated by jerking Isaac towards him as he pulled at his pants, the zipper making a rasping sound as it was tugged down with each pull of the material. He bit at Isaac's lip, the tone of the argument carrying over into the tangle of their bodies.

[freezerburned]

Isaac could barely think through the sudden mash of skin and nails and teeth and- he's still livid, but it's taken a new form, something that's purely physical and yet, strangely intimate.

He wants him. Isaac isn't sure if it's the wolf or the hormonal teenager, but at this point, he really doesn't care much. Fingers twist at fabric, claws grazing against Stiles' skin in an attempt to get his clothing off.

"Move-"

And he shoves the other boy back, letting his shoulders slam against the kitchen cabinet- sorry about the metal handle in your back- and after a split second longer, Isaac is on him, bodies pressed together, teeth against his neck, rocking up, almost violently, against him.

[teenyoda]

He glares at Isaac as he's pushed back, lips swollen and red, eyes huge and pupils dilated as he watches him stand there looking like he wants to sink teeth, or other things, into him. There's a moment when his heart leaps into his throat as he thinks he sees the wolf glaring back at him, when Isaac leaps at him and he feels teeth at his throat, but it's coupled with his body grinding against him and Stiles lets out a strangled moan.

Why isn't Isaac's shirt off yet? His hands are pulling, tugging, trying to rip the damn thing off because there's not enough skin for him to touch.

[freezerburned]

Isaac lets out a low growl when Stiles starts pulling, but after a few moments when it becomes clear that he's not going to let it go, he pulls away quickly, just fast enough to rip the damn thing over his head and be back on Stiles like he never left. His hands slide down the other boy's sides until he can grip at the back of Stiles' thigh, and hitches a leg up, forcing himself into that nice little gap it creates as his other hand goes for his pants.

Button, zipper, and that might be a little accidental scratch on his abdomen, but it'll heal eventually, right? Isaac's teeth slide against Stiles' jaw like he's going to bite down, but he attacks his ear instead, werewolf sharp and wanting him.

That's when he starts grinding into him, hard and dirty, too impatient to get their pants shoved down, or to get the rest of their clothes off, or- or anything else, really.

[teenyoda]

Thank god there's skin to touch, though he couldn't deny the growl had prickles skating up and down his body. Isaac was like a volatile live wire and Stiles wasn't exactly sure where he could touch, or where he even wanted to, for that matter. That was answered when one of his legs was pulled up and he felt Isaac's body slot in between them, grinding in against him and providing this friction that had him biting at the bared shoulder.

The teeth at his ear pricked and the sting of the cut on his abdomen reminded him of the powder keg he was wrestling with, but the opened pants and the feel of trapped cocks trying to find the other to rub against was burning through him like a fever. A hand slid down Isaac's back, Stiles' fingers slipping past the loose waistband of his jeans and finding the curve of his ass to grip, using the hold to pull him in closer.

[freezerburned]

He lets out a muffled groan at that, shifting his hips a little to let Stiles touch as much as he wants. The cabinet he's got Stiles pushed up against creaks and shutters closed with every rock of their hips, and it's not enough.

Isaac pulls his head away for just a moment to glance furtively at the clock on the wall- he doesn't know the sheriff's exact schedule, but him coming home to find his son being mauled by an ex-fugitive probably wouldn't be the best thing that could happen to them. Still, it seems like they have time, and so he nods, hauling Stiles off and away from the wall to push him against the table nearby.

"Watch the glass," he murmurs- perhaps a little unhelpfully, even as he shoves him down on his back on top of the (hopefully) sturdy wood, sending silverware to the floor and a water glass rolling precariously toward the edge. Now that they're separated for a few moments, it's easier to hook his fingers in Stiles' waistband and yank at his pants, too impatient to take anything slow.

[teenyoda]

"Screw the glass." His ass lifts up off the table as Isaac tugs on his pants, his cock tenting his boxers as he looks down at the other teen between his legs. He's still unfairly wearing his pants and Stiles tries to get up to reach for them, to even the score a little. He finds he feels just a little bit more vulnerable when he's mostly naked on his back on the table with Isaac looming over him than then when they were upright and in equal positions. The fact that Isaac can literally rip his throat out wasn't an issue when he was pushing and shoving at him, but he's aware, if only from his research, the submissive posture he's displaying right now and he doesn't want him to think that's what he'd doing. Because submitting is the last thing on his mind right now.

He's going to make Isaac work for every inch he thinks he's taking.

[freezerburned]

For what it's worth, Isaac lets him pull at his own pants, reaching a hand over to help him shuck them down. He kicks them off of his feet before he's on Stiles again, climbing up onto the table above him, holding himself with hands and knees on the table on each side of the other boy.

He kisses him again, just because Stiles looks so raw like that, swollen lips, hungry eyes, red marks where Isaac was just biting and sucking at that skin. And it's better like this, where they're both mostly naked, even if it's not quite in the most comfortable of places.

"You're not gonna be able to look at the table without thinking of me," he growls, teeth closing around Stiles' lower lip as his hips rut down against him. "Every time you set it, every time you sit down for lunch, every family dinner night, you're gonna see me on top of you, right here-" another harsh thrust that topples that cup to the floor, shattering it, "-like this."

[teenyoda]

It's better when the pants are off, when Stiles can see the evidence of more than his own arousal. Then he's looking up at Isaac straddling him, that pulse of fear in the back of his throat for a moment at the raw and primal look he sees on his face, eyes glowing gold down at him before they're moving in and Stiles feels the sting of teeth on his lip.

He's grasping at him, hands coming up and around to his back, short nails digging into skin at the first feel of that hard length digging into him, rubbing beside his own through too much fabric. Then there's words and Isaac won't shut up and Stiles is picturing having to eat here with his dad and picturing exactly what Isaac's saying. He knows he's going to have a few moments of instant effects from this picture while having meals and trying to hide that from his dad is going to kill him with embarrassment, but that's something to worry about then, not now.

Not with that rubbing against him, the almost painful way that Isaac's cock digs into his pelvis. He hears the shattering glass and he doesn't give a damn. He's busy grabbing handfuls of that ass to keep him close, to pull him in and up and try to control the speed of the rocking. He bites back at the mouth over him, catching Isaac's lip and tasting blood.

[freezerburned]

That's better. Isaac goes quiet when Stiles gets the idea, letting himself be manipulated just that little bit to press in against him, growling low in his throat as Stiles grabs and pulls. And it's better like this, and if he could slip a hand between to grab them both and stroke them off together, he would, but he's too preoccupied in keeping himself up above him, and so this has to drag out for a few moments more.

Not that he really minds. When Isaac tastes blood- his own blood, instead of Stiles'- he surges forward a little harder, thrusting their cocks together blindly and moaning low in his throat at the warmth and friction that offers. And he wants more, he wants Stiles on him, skin against skin, all over him, but for now, he has to take what he can get and save the rest for next time.

Next time. Because there's going to be one, Isaac has already decided for the both of them, this is too good to pass up. His mouth moves up, kissing Stiles again fully, pressing his tongue into his mouth as they rock together, making the table squeak against the tile floor in protest.

[teenyoda]

Stiles has yet to be apprised of this next time concept, but again, that's for another time. Not for when he's got warm skin under his hands and something hard for him to rut against. He's got one leg moving a little higher up the ones between his own, wanting the leverage to lift up into the body above his.

The kiss is messy and uncoordinated and Stiles can't be bothered to care because it's exactly what he needs. The clack of a tooth catching another tooth jars through him, but he tips his head to the side to fix the angle, make it better as his lips war with Isaac's.

The idea of tugging those boxers down crosses his mind, but he knows that will require moving away, and having to move away enough to get rid of the pants had been a bitch. Right now, the idea of not touching and moving against that warm body over his wasn't acceptable. The tongue in his mouth is sucked on, wrapped around with Stiles' as the table does more than squeak, the screech of the legs moving across the floor loud in the room.

If he had claws, he could just tear Isaac's boxers of, but... no such luck.

[freezerburned]

He can tell from the squirming that Stiles wants the last of his clothing gone, and he can return the sentiment- but Isaac doesn't want to move away, doesn't want to take the time to pull back and do what needs to be done.

So he's just going to kiss him harder, delaying the inevitable as their tongues press and he tastes blood and saliva and Stiles, and Isaac never really knew he wanted him before, but fuck if he doesn't want him in every which way, here and now.

The table is wide enough for Isaac to roll, but just barely- he needs to get to a place where he can use his hands if he wants this to get any further, so he flips them both, narrowly avoiding sending them sprawling to the floor. With Stiles above him and his legs between the other boy's own, it's suddenly easier for him to reach down and yank them off, kicking at his feet until there's not a stitch left on him, and he pulls Stiles down hard for another kiss once they're both free.

[teenyoda]

That shouldn't be hot. Why was that hot? He'd just been manhandled on top of Isaac and whoops, there went the last of his clothes. But he's on top of Isaac and that's a good position to have. He leans in, one hand at the nape of Isaac's neck as he pulls him in for a kiss, moving to adjust himself so his legs are between the other's, fitting in that slot so that he can move properly and -- oh god.

The feel of skin on skin, the hot slide of his cock against Isaac's is worth the press of the hard table on his knees. He pressed down and up, ass clenching as he starts a movement that he'd never actually done with a living person before. Waking up doing it to his bed or his pillow didn't count, and this was miles better than those few instances, the touch of skin amplifying everything that much more.

He breathed a gasp into Isaac's mouth as he kissed him, his mouth hanging open as he tried to breathe through the sensations.

[freezerburned]

Isaac reached up to hook his legs over Stiles' ass, ankles locking together to give him more friction, the ability to push himself closer and force Stiles to rut harder down against him.

The kiss was good too, warm and biting, and although a small part of Isaac resents being the one with his stomach up and vulnerable, it's too much trouble to try and flip them now- plus, he doubted the table could take it. A hand shifted between them, careful not to scratch as Isaac's long, nimble fingers wrapped around Stiles' cock, thumb hooking around his own for a warm, full stroke.

He had to bite back a groan at that, and he buried it in Stiles' mouth, jerking them together as his hips shifted up, trying to get them as close as possible.

[teenyoda]

It was almost too much, but it was in that way of awesome too much like a pile of presents on Christmas or too much candy at the fair, the feeling of Isaac's hand over his cock making his heart stutter before it started pounding ferociously in his chest again. He rolled his body in a wave, sliding himself through Isaac's hand and pressing in harder against his body.

He felt the groan, tasted it on his tongue like it was a flavor of wicked before he could bring his brain together enough to remember to kiss. To slide his mouth over Isaac's lips, bruising them with his own. The legs locked around him make it impossible to go anywhere, so he went the only place he could go, right where he was.

The hand that had been gripping Isaac's nape moved to flatten on the table, bracing himself up as the lower hand moved down to slide along Isaac's thigh, creeping towards his ass to cup and lift and hold him closer.

[freezerburned]

Isaac was trapped- but he quickly found that he didn't mind, grinding and rutting into one another on the table, and if anyone had even hinted at him fucking Stilinski a month ago- hell, an hour ago- he'd have laughed, but now there's nowhere else he wants to be than belly up on this table with him.

Ugh. This one is going to be difficult to explain, and he's sure that Derek will probably figure it out somehow, but- worth it. Completely, just to have Stiles pressed against him, the expanse of skin open and receptive at his fingertips, and he's so warm and inviting in a way that Isaac has never known before.

It's almost too much, and he finds his breath stuttering at a particularly rough stroke, and Isaac suddenly realizes that he's not going to last much longer. Teenage hormones, all that. But he tightens his grip just a little, biting at Stiles' lips again, determined to either get him off first, or have him come fast enough after to not gloat about it.

[teenyoda]

The thought of him actively being with a guy, let alone Isaac, wouldn't have crossed his mind until he'd felt the hard press of a body up against his. It wasn't until he'd tasted Isaac in his mouth, felt the way his lips mashed into his that the idea would have been more than something laughable. Now, it was like air. He needed that feeling, he needed to keep feeling the hand that was squeezing around him so perfectly, he needed to hear the sound of Isaac's shuddered breaths as he ground down against him.

His mouth couldn't form the moue to kiss as he felt the sparking lick of pleasure up his spine. His mouth was open and panting, eyes screwed closed as he let his body do exactly what it wanted to. The nip to his lips makes him try to kiss back, but he's concentrating too hard on not making an utter failure of this. But it feels so good and it's all he wants to do. His mouth tries to form Isaac's name, tries to get the breath in his lungs enough that he can at least whisper it, but he's caught between one stroke and the next; one moment of almost bliss and a cascade of ecstasy that threatens to rip his brain out from behind his eyes.

[freezerburned]

Isaac could barely breathe himself, everything in his world has narrowed down to this moment, here on his back on Stiles' dinner table. He wanted it, he could feel his body tensing up in anticipation, his stomach, his thighs squeezing tightly as his body worked his way toward its orgasm. Another stroke, another thrust, the slight tightening of his fist and he was coming, hard and fast and messy against them both.

It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, not anything he'd done on his own. It was warmer, and the anticipation, the emotional complications of it all- it felt like glass being dragged through his veins, hard and rough, and it almost hurts, but it's eclipsed in the utter pleasure that comes from finally getting his release. It's good, and it leaves him shuddering, his skin damp and his pupils blown wide.

[teenyoda]

The mess is made worse by Stiles' contribution, his arms shaking as he tries to keep himself up and off of Isaac, to not let himself just flop down boneless on top of him, exhausted and spent, emotionally and physically.

He's panting, head resting on Isaac's shoulder, his body joining in on the shaking and trembling. It was like he'd just run a marathon, but the finish line was some orgasmic bliss that had torn through him like claws, a sweet kind of pain he wanted again.

That surprised him, that he wanted it again. Well, not really. He wanted orgasms like he wanted air, but that he wanted to do this again, with Isaac was the surprise. Still, he felt like he had to reclaim some semblance of his dignity. "I still hate you."

There. Hah.

[freezerburned]

Isaac doesn't exactly comfort Stiles as he slumps forward on top of him- though he appreciates the efforts to keep most of his weight off. All the same, he finds that the post-coital haze from angry sex like this is just... exhaustion. Not really any sort of happiness or bliss, just a mind numbing heaviness.

It's... relaxing almost, and Isaac makes a low grunt when Stiles speaks, not quite wanting to be pulled back into reality quite yet, but it seems like he doesn't have much of a choice.

So, he sighs, pulling his hands out from between them and wiping the mess as best he can onto the wood of the table. That's what sanitizing wipes were for, right?

"I'm not exactly your number one fan either," he mumbles in a little groan, pushing lightly at Stiles' shoulder. Moment successfully over. Exhaustion staved off until he reaches a point later that he's more comfortable collapsing in.

"...Where the hell are my pants?"

[teenyoda]

He moves when he's pushed, his leg slipping off the table, foot hitting the floor. He pulls himself upright on legs that aren't quite sure they're capable of holding him, standing by the table and looking down at the mess made of Isaac.

That was unreasonably hot. He took a mental picture, etching the sight into his mind to play over later. "On the floor. With the rest of our clothes."

Because yes, he was going to remind Isaac of the fact that they were both butt naked.

[freezerburned]

"Ah. Yeah."

Isaac notes Stiles eyes on him and grins a little darkly, lifting his arms above his head for a nice, languid, totally necessary stretch against the kitchen table, before slipping down bonelessly to stand on the floor. Save that for your memory banks.

There's an odd sort of lanky grace to him, and he's all long limbs and sharp elbows, but he knows how to move, as he bends down to grab at his boxers and tug them up around his knees, before pointedly looking up at Stiles.

"Aaaand a washcloth?"

[teenyoda]

Why? Why was that so unbelievably hot? He felt a slow curl in his stomach, a prod of arousal as he watched Isaac slide off the table. He blinked out of it when he mentioned the washcloth, trying for all the world to look like he hadn't been gawking.

"You get paper towel. Washcloths are for showers only." Was there an implication there? Possibly. Shut up, Isaac. You're distracting him. He went over to snag his own boxers, tugging them up and over himself before going and ripping off one to hand to the werewolf, trying not to notice the mingled come sliding lower.

[freezerburned]

Isaac chuckles effortlessly, but it still sounds oddly predatory, like there's some kind of macabre punchline that has yet to be told. Still, he takes the paper towel and wipes at his abdomen and stomach, where the worst of it is. The rest can wait for a shower when he gets home.

"Is that an invitation, Stiles?"

It's flirtatious, but darkly so. You may have just had Isaac on his back on your kitchen table, but he's still a big, bad wolf who can rip you limb from limb as soon as look at you, and this is probably a very bad idea, but- so be it.

[teenyoda]

Stiles is reminded of that fact when he hears the laugh, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. He's never been one to back down just because of a potential threat, even if he probably should.

"I'm sorry, were you expecting something handwritten with gilding on it?"

He gave Isaac a purposefully cavalier look before he picked up his clothes and left the kitchen, heading upstairs for the shower. Isaac was welcome to do whatever he wanted, but they both knew a challenge of sorts had been put down.