Fic: Barber Shop (SPN)
Title: Barber Shop
Author: fete_in_june
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Jody
Ratings/Contents: NC-17, shaving!kink, mommy!kink
Spoilers: Through 7.12
Notes: Originally written for Blindfold round 6 for the prompt Jody uses her "mom-voice" to force Sam to shave the sideburns down to a reasonable size (they've nearly overtaken his dimples!) and discovers in the process that Dean's not the only Winchester with Oedipal issues.. It apparently takes me several months before I bother reposting these things. Oh well.
After the thing with Chronos, Jody becomes a much more constant figure in the boys’ lives. Dean takes a little more time to convince than Sam, who’s glad to have someone to help with research, but in the end Dean admits it’s good to have extra backup. And Jody’s knowledge of law enforcement is definitely an asset.
Now, Dean’s gone out (and Sam knows his brother’s going to get an earful from Jody tomorrow but suspects Dean likes it when Jody forces them into line-the façade of normality, or something) and Sam’s been staring at the same webpage for half an hour. The letters are running together, and he can’t remember what circumvention means.
The lid shuts and nearly takes Sam’s hand off. Jody looks at him sternly. “Take a break,” she says, handing him a beer. Sam starts to argue, but her expression is firm and Sam realizes it’s a lost cause.
“Thanks,” he says, taking the beer and brushing his hair out of his eyes. “This is a weird one. You having any luck?”
Jody shakes her head. “Not so much,” she says. Then she frowns. “Sam Winchester, when was the last time you cut your hair?”
“What?” Sam blinks at her, certain he heard wrong. Cut his hair? “I don’t know. Hunting kind of-I don’t think about things like that.”
She sighs. “Sam, you need to take better care of yourself,” she says. “I know, I know, you’re fine and Dean’s the one spiraling. But you can’t keep neglecting things like this.” Jody draws a finger down the side of Sam’s face, tracing his sideburn and then passing over his cheek. She stops halfway to his nose, at the very tip of his sideburn. “Let me help?”
From somewhere in the haze of exhaustion and this is wrong and where is Dean and maybe those things were actually eggs in which case we’re hunting a- Sam hears his voice. “Yes,” his voice says.
“Good,” Jody says. She takes his hand and pulls him toward the bathroom. Sam goes.
Her hand is small in his, and he has to crane his neck down to look at her, and she’s some ten years older than him, but her grip is strong and her stride is long and she pulls him easily into the small bathroom.
“Sit,” she says, pushing at his shoulders. Sam does, perching on the toilet seat. Now she’s the one looking down at him, her hands on her hips and her head tilted slightly as she checks his hair. Sam can’t stop staring at her-in the harsh, unflattering bathroom light, she’s stern yet soft and entirely too gorgeous for someone who enjoys playing Mom and making Sam and Dean squirm.
He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, self-conscious under Jody’s scrutiny. “Stop fidgeting,” she says. Her Mom Voice. Sam drops his hand at once and smiles apologetically.
“Sorry.”
“Sit still. I don’t want you get cut,” Jody says. She takes a razor and a bottle of shaving cream out of Sam’s bathroom case, then sets them on the counter and picks up a pair of scissors instead. “I think we’ll do the length first.”
Sam’s eyes widen. Is she really-Sam’s a little terrified at the idea of having her cut his hair. He likes his hair. It keeps his head warm and he likes it when his hair blows gently in the breeze. His hair is soft and awesome and he doesn’t want anyone to touch it.
Except.
“Don’t worry,” Jody says, like she’s talking to a child about to get his first haircut. Sam should feel patronized, he knows, but instead he just feels safe. “I won’t do anything too drastic. Just a little trim, okay, honey?”
Sam pouts a little, because he’s got to put up some kind of fight, but his heart’s not in it. He loves his hair, but he likes the way Jody reassures him. “Okay.”
“Good.” Jody smiles and strokes Sam’s hair. He turns into her hand, enjoying the attention. “Stay still, now.”
She brings the scissors to Sam’s hair, and Sam scrunches his eyes shut and tries to block out the sound of his hair being cut away. Jody hums as she trims, and Sam can’t figure out what the song is. But he likes it. Maybe he’ll ask her when she’s done. He whimpers slightly as her scissors round his shoulders, and she hushes him gently. Sam calms and allows her to finish.
“There!” she says. “See, now, that wasn’t so bad.” Sam touches his hair-she was right, she didn’t cut off that much. Just a little around the bottom. And he thinks it’s nicer, or maybe it’s just because she was playing with it.
“Thank you,” Sam says.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Jody says. Her voice turns stern. “We still have to take care of those sideburns.”
Sam frowns. His hair was one thing-his sideburns are another. He’s become quite proud of them, even though Dean won’t stop making fun of them. In fact, it mostly just makes him more defensive of his sideburns.
“I don’t know,” he says, squirming under Jody’s hard gaze. “I think they’re okay.”
“No,” she says. “You’re shaving them.”
Sam tries to stand up, tries to leave, but Jody shoves him back onto the toilet seat and straddles his thighs. “You’re not going anywhere, young man,” she says, and Sam groans.
“Really?” he says, his voice rough.
“Oh, yes,” she says. “I’m not letting you leave this room until I’m sure your sideburns are presentable.”
She’s half his size, and Sam’s pretty sure if he tried to stand up, she’d fall off his lap easily. But something makes him stay still. Her weight against him, her firm eyes and firmer tone, and the way her hand curls around his shoulder with a steadiness Sam needs.
“Now.” She smears shaving cream across Sam’s sideburns and lifts the razor. “Are you going to do it yourself or do I have to?”
Sam flushes and ducks his head. He knows what he wants; he’s just not sure if he should ask for it. He’s not sure if she would accept it, if she’d understand. All of this-it’s so screwed up, and for some reason, Sam’s okay with that. Mostly, anyway.
“Use your words,” Jody says.
“You,” Sam says. “I-can you do it for me?”
Jody smiles. “Of course,” she says, and lifts the razor. Sam shudders, his eyes fluttering shut as she drags the sharp razor down his cheek. It’s strange, having someone do this for him, but it’s also more than welcome; her other hand cradles his head and her fingers play with his hair, and he lets out a small moan. She stops mid-stroke.
Sam’s eyes fly open. No-he didn’t mean-
But she’s not mad. There’s a knowing smirk on her lips, but it’s soft, and she keeps running her fingers through Sam’s hair. She finishes with that sideburn and moves to the other, pressing a kiss to Sam’s forehead before starting the shave. Sam closes his eyes again and loses himself in the sensation. He’s still not exactly thrilled at losing his sideburns, but Jody’s warmth is worth it.
“There,” she says, and wipes his face down with a wet washcloth. “All done. And so much better. Now I can see those dimples,” she says, stroking Sam’s face. Sam stares at her. He’s half-hard, and while it should be humiliating, he doesn’t mind. He thinks Jody doesn’t mind, either, as she rocks slowly in his lap.
“It’s okay,” Jody says. “You can touch.”
Sam does. Her shoulders, first, then across her chest to the buttons on her green plaid shirt, and he starts unfastening them. Jody grabs his hands.
“Not until I give you permission,” she says, in that firm mom-voice, and Sam bows his head.
“Sorry.”
She brushes her thumb across his lips. “It’s okay,” she says, and lets him kiss her. Jody is fierce, demanding, biting down on Sam’s lower lip and pushing her tongue beside his, controlling the kiss with nothing but the knowledge that Sam will do as she asks. Sam wraps his hands around her upper arms and marvels at how small she is-but size is nothing, he knows that, as she has complete power of him despite the difference in size. She slips a hand up his t-shirt, running her nails across his chest.
“Let me,” Sam pleads. She nods, and he rips her shirt apart, sending buttons flying. She laughs and shrugs out of the material, then helps Sam with his own shirt.
“Put your hands here,” she says, positioning one to cup her breast and the other around her lower back. “Good.” She rocks against him, and Sam gasps into her mouth as she moves above him, entirely helpless to her movements.
Finally, she pulls back, and Sam makes a distressed noise in the back of his throat. She presses a finger to his lips. “Stop whining,” she says. “I’m not going anywhere, and if you behave, you’ll enjoy this.”
Sam nods frantically. Jody smiles and unbuttons his jeans. He lifts his hips obediently and lets her slide his jeans and boxers down his thighs. Then she goes for her own, removing her jeans and panties and tossing them into the tub before straddling Sam again.
“Are you going to be a good boy and take care of your sideburns from now on?”
“Yes,” Sam moans. She’s close, so close, her body burning hot in his hands, but not close enough. She takes a condom from Sam’s case and rolls it over his cock “Yes, I promise, please.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” she says. “I’ll remind you when you forget. But if you do forget, I won’t be happy. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She rises up on her toes and takes Sam’s cock into her in one long stroke, sitting heavily on his lap. Sam’s head falls back and he gasps, choking. “Because I want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, Sam.” She begins to ride him at an excruciatingly slow pace. Sam’s hands itch to grab her hips, to thrust into her. “And I want you to be a good boy and listen to me.”
Sam groans. Of course, she’s in charge. He couldn’t control the pace any more than he could have prevented the shaving of his sideburns.
Finally, finally, Jody fucks him in earnest. She presses his thumb against her clit and he rubs slow circles as she thrusts down, taking him in, clenching hard and hot around Sam’s cock.
“Harder, young man,” she says, and that’s it-Jody’s voice surrounds him and he comes hot and sudden into the condom, his thumb pressing hard against her clit, and she comes as well, shuddering above him. He catches the end of her orgasm as he comes down from his own, and though Jody’s skin is beaded with sweat and her hair is messy around her face, she is calm and controlled. She steps away, his cock falling from her, and she removes the condom and tosses it in the trash.
Then Jody slides her jeans back on and grabs a towel and wipes Sam off, cleaning his body and his face, and he catches her hand as it drags the towel over his chin.
Jody’s eyes are soft and her mouth is relaxed.
“Thank you,” Sam says.
“I’m glad I could help,” Jody says. “And I meant it. Keep those sideburns trimmed.”
“I will,” Sam promises, and she leaves, satisfied. Sam grins at the closed door and wonders how long before he can get away with growing them out again. It’d be worth Jody’s anger, he thinks, to have another shaving session.
Author: fete_in_june
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Jody
Ratings/Contents: NC-17, shaving!kink, mommy!kink
Spoilers: Through 7.12
Notes: Originally written for Blindfold round 6 for the prompt Jody uses her "mom-voice" to force Sam to shave the sideburns down to a reasonable size (they've nearly overtaken his dimples!) and discovers in the process that Dean's not the only Winchester with Oedipal issues.. It apparently takes me several months before I bother reposting these things. Oh well.
After the thing with Chronos, Jody becomes a much more constant figure in the boys’ lives. Dean takes a little more time to convince than Sam, who’s glad to have someone to help with research, but in the end Dean admits it’s good to have extra backup. And Jody’s knowledge of law enforcement is definitely an asset.
Now, Dean’s gone out (and Sam knows his brother’s going to get an earful from Jody tomorrow but suspects Dean likes it when Jody forces them into line-the façade of normality, or something) and Sam’s been staring at the same webpage for half an hour. The letters are running together, and he can’t remember what circumvention means.
The lid shuts and nearly takes Sam’s hand off. Jody looks at him sternly. “Take a break,” she says, handing him a beer. Sam starts to argue, but her expression is firm and Sam realizes it’s a lost cause.
“Thanks,” he says, taking the beer and brushing his hair out of his eyes. “This is a weird one. You having any luck?”
Jody shakes her head. “Not so much,” she says. Then she frowns. “Sam Winchester, when was the last time you cut your hair?”
“What?” Sam blinks at her, certain he heard wrong. Cut his hair? “I don’t know. Hunting kind of-I don’t think about things like that.”
She sighs. “Sam, you need to take better care of yourself,” she says. “I know, I know, you’re fine and Dean’s the one spiraling. But you can’t keep neglecting things like this.” Jody draws a finger down the side of Sam’s face, tracing his sideburn and then passing over his cheek. She stops halfway to his nose, at the very tip of his sideburn. “Let me help?”
From somewhere in the haze of exhaustion and this is wrong and where is Dean and maybe those things were actually eggs in which case we’re hunting a- Sam hears his voice. “Yes,” his voice says.
“Good,” Jody says. She takes his hand and pulls him toward the bathroom. Sam goes.
Her hand is small in his, and he has to crane his neck down to look at her, and she’s some ten years older than him, but her grip is strong and her stride is long and she pulls him easily into the small bathroom.
“Sit,” she says, pushing at his shoulders. Sam does, perching on the toilet seat. Now she’s the one looking down at him, her hands on her hips and her head tilted slightly as she checks his hair. Sam can’t stop staring at her-in the harsh, unflattering bathroom light, she’s stern yet soft and entirely too gorgeous for someone who enjoys playing Mom and making Sam and Dean squirm.
He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, self-conscious under Jody’s scrutiny. “Stop fidgeting,” she says. Her Mom Voice. Sam drops his hand at once and smiles apologetically.
“Sorry.”
“Sit still. I don’t want you get cut,” Jody says. She takes a razor and a bottle of shaving cream out of Sam’s bathroom case, then sets them on the counter and picks up a pair of scissors instead. “I think we’ll do the length first.”
Sam’s eyes widen. Is she really-Sam’s a little terrified at the idea of having her cut his hair. He likes his hair. It keeps his head warm and he likes it when his hair blows gently in the breeze. His hair is soft and awesome and he doesn’t want anyone to touch it.
Except.
“Don’t worry,” Jody says, like she’s talking to a child about to get his first haircut. Sam should feel patronized, he knows, but instead he just feels safe. “I won’t do anything too drastic. Just a little trim, okay, honey?”
Sam pouts a little, because he’s got to put up some kind of fight, but his heart’s not in it. He loves his hair, but he likes the way Jody reassures him. “Okay.”
“Good.” Jody smiles and strokes Sam’s hair. He turns into her hand, enjoying the attention. “Stay still, now.”
She brings the scissors to Sam’s hair, and Sam scrunches his eyes shut and tries to block out the sound of his hair being cut away. Jody hums as she trims, and Sam can’t figure out what the song is. But he likes it. Maybe he’ll ask her when she’s done. He whimpers slightly as her scissors round his shoulders, and she hushes him gently. Sam calms and allows her to finish.
“There!” she says. “See, now, that wasn’t so bad.” Sam touches his hair-she was right, she didn’t cut off that much. Just a little around the bottom. And he thinks it’s nicer, or maybe it’s just because she was playing with it.
“Thank you,” Sam says.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Jody says. Her voice turns stern. “We still have to take care of those sideburns.”
Sam frowns. His hair was one thing-his sideburns are another. He’s become quite proud of them, even though Dean won’t stop making fun of them. In fact, it mostly just makes him more defensive of his sideburns.
“I don’t know,” he says, squirming under Jody’s hard gaze. “I think they’re okay.”
“No,” she says. “You’re shaving them.”
Sam tries to stand up, tries to leave, but Jody shoves him back onto the toilet seat and straddles his thighs. “You’re not going anywhere, young man,” she says, and Sam groans.
“Really?” he says, his voice rough.
“Oh, yes,” she says. “I’m not letting you leave this room until I’m sure your sideburns are presentable.”
She’s half his size, and Sam’s pretty sure if he tried to stand up, she’d fall off his lap easily. But something makes him stay still. Her weight against him, her firm eyes and firmer tone, and the way her hand curls around his shoulder with a steadiness Sam needs.
“Now.” She smears shaving cream across Sam’s sideburns and lifts the razor. “Are you going to do it yourself or do I have to?”
Sam flushes and ducks his head. He knows what he wants; he’s just not sure if he should ask for it. He’s not sure if she would accept it, if she’d understand. All of this-it’s so screwed up, and for some reason, Sam’s okay with that. Mostly, anyway.
“Use your words,” Jody says.
“You,” Sam says. “I-can you do it for me?”
Jody smiles. “Of course,” she says, and lifts the razor. Sam shudders, his eyes fluttering shut as she drags the sharp razor down his cheek. It’s strange, having someone do this for him, but it’s also more than welcome; her other hand cradles his head and her fingers play with his hair, and he lets out a small moan. She stops mid-stroke.
Sam’s eyes fly open. No-he didn’t mean-
But she’s not mad. There’s a knowing smirk on her lips, but it’s soft, and she keeps running her fingers through Sam’s hair. She finishes with that sideburn and moves to the other, pressing a kiss to Sam’s forehead before starting the shave. Sam closes his eyes again and loses himself in the sensation. He’s still not exactly thrilled at losing his sideburns, but Jody’s warmth is worth it.
“There,” she says, and wipes his face down with a wet washcloth. “All done. And so much better. Now I can see those dimples,” she says, stroking Sam’s face. Sam stares at her. He’s half-hard, and while it should be humiliating, he doesn’t mind. He thinks Jody doesn’t mind, either, as she rocks slowly in his lap.
“It’s okay,” Jody says. “You can touch.”
Sam does. Her shoulders, first, then across her chest to the buttons on her green plaid shirt, and he starts unfastening them. Jody grabs his hands.
“Not until I give you permission,” she says, in that firm mom-voice, and Sam bows his head.
“Sorry.”
She brushes her thumb across his lips. “It’s okay,” she says, and lets him kiss her. Jody is fierce, demanding, biting down on Sam’s lower lip and pushing her tongue beside his, controlling the kiss with nothing but the knowledge that Sam will do as she asks. Sam wraps his hands around her upper arms and marvels at how small she is-but size is nothing, he knows that, as she has complete power of him despite the difference in size. She slips a hand up his t-shirt, running her nails across his chest.
“Let me,” Sam pleads. She nods, and he rips her shirt apart, sending buttons flying. She laughs and shrugs out of the material, then helps Sam with his own shirt.
“Put your hands here,” she says, positioning one to cup her breast and the other around her lower back. “Good.” She rocks against him, and Sam gasps into her mouth as she moves above him, entirely helpless to her movements.
Finally, she pulls back, and Sam makes a distressed noise in the back of his throat. She presses a finger to his lips. “Stop whining,” she says. “I’m not going anywhere, and if you behave, you’ll enjoy this.”
Sam nods frantically. Jody smiles and unbuttons his jeans. He lifts his hips obediently and lets her slide his jeans and boxers down his thighs. Then she goes for her own, removing her jeans and panties and tossing them into the tub before straddling Sam again.
“Are you going to be a good boy and take care of your sideburns from now on?”
“Yes,” Sam moans. She’s close, so close, her body burning hot in his hands, but not close enough. She takes a condom from Sam’s case and rolls it over his cock “Yes, I promise, please.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” she says. “I’ll remind you when you forget. But if you do forget, I won’t be happy. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She rises up on her toes and takes Sam’s cock into her in one long stroke, sitting heavily on his lap. Sam’s head falls back and he gasps, choking. “Because I want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, Sam.” She begins to ride him at an excruciatingly slow pace. Sam’s hands itch to grab her hips, to thrust into her. “And I want you to be a good boy and listen to me.”
Sam groans. Of course, she’s in charge. He couldn’t control the pace any more than he could have prevented the shaving of his sideburns.
Finally, finally, Jody fucks him in earnest. She presses his thumb against her clit and he rubs slow circles as she thrusts down, taking him in, clenching hard and hot around Sam’s cock.
“Harder, young man,” she says, and that’s it-Jody’s voice surrounds him and he comes hot and sudden into the condom, his thumb pressing hard against her clit, and she comes as well, shuddering above him. He catches the end of her orgasm as he comes down from his own, and though Jody’s skin is beaded with sweat and her hair is messy around her face, she is calm and controlled. She steps away, his cock falling from her, and she removes the condom and tosses it in the trash.
Then Jody slides her jeans back on and grabs a towel and wipes Sam off, cleaning his body and his face, and he catches her hand as it drags the towel over his chin.
Jody’s eyes are soft and her mouth is relaxed.
“Thank you,” Sam says.
“I’m glad I could help,” Jody says. “And I meant it. Keep those sideburns trimmed.”
“I will,” Sam promises, and she leaves, satisfied. Sam grins at the closed door and wonders how long before he can get away with growing them out again. It’d be worth Jody’s anger, he thinks, to have another shaving session.