fic: Rough Trade
Title: Rough Trade
Author: ordinarily
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Jared/Girl!Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~6,900
Summary: Even Jared has moral boundaries, and he withdraws when he realizes he's crossed them with Jenny. But Jenny doesn't consider herself a victim, and her only solution is to give Jared a taste of his own medicine...literally.
Warnings: Rape/noncon.
Notes: Written for Round Six of the blindfold kink meme, for the summary prompt, as a sequel to Just Right and Hard Bargain. I had originally conceived this series as a trilogy, and though this prompt wasn’t exactly where I intended the second fic to go, I did my best to end it in a place that makes the final fic possible. It may come one day.
All week, she’s been busy with Misha, making lists, planning, brainstorming, discussing the details, and not once during all their preparations had Jenny felt nervous. It was something out of a bad spy novel, after all, outrageous, unrelated in any way to real life.
And then earlier tonight, the logistics of it kept her distracted, picking her moment at the company dinner, dosing him surreptitiously, she and her concerned "date" offering to drop him off at home. And even after Misha’d left, there hadn’t been much time to worry.
Now, though. It’s nearly showtime, Jared’s secured -- or at least, she hopes he is -- and she’s waiting for him to wake up, and she can feel everything closing in. Twice in the last fifteen minutes, she’s nearly called the whole thing off, and only the knowledge that she’s gone too far now to go back has kept her on course. She can’t lift him into the car to drive him home, doesn’t have another dose of ketamine to keep him out, can’t call Misha back before he wakes up, so he’s stuck here until he can leave under his own steam; and since she’s going to be found out regardless, she might as well have her say.
(And this sterling logic makes sense, as far as it goes, but it’s not actually helping to steady her nerves.)
She’s folding Jared’s clothes, trying to keep busy, when he stirs. He’s still out of it, doesn’t seem to realize at first that he’s tied up, and when he does, his mobile face is tight with confusion as he tugs at his wrists.
He hasn’t noticed her yet, in the low light of the bedroom. Time to enlighten him, then. She smooths her skirt down with damp palms and steps out of the shadowy corner.
"Hi, Jared. How are you feeling?" She forces herself to lean over him, her heart pounding inside her head, and takes a deep, silent breath. She’s going to have to trust in her knot-tying skills at some point, and it might as well be sooner rather than later.
"Jenny? What’s happening?" Jared stops, confusion deepening before his face goes blank in the space of a blink.
"I think you might be catching on," she says. "Am I right?"
"I think I might be," he agrees, tugging on wrists and ankles, twisting. The cords hold -- it’s one mighty solid bed -- and after a couple of tries, he lies back on the bed, incongruous in this utterly familiar setting. He’s tense, maybe a little bit angry, but if he’s feeling any fear, he’s hiding it well. "What the hell are you doing to me?"
"I haven’t decided," she replies. "What do you do to me when you drug me? Should I do that?"
He has the grace to look away, if not to blush. "I don’t know what you mean."
She leans in closer. "You know that isn’t true."
"Look, Jenny, I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but I promise you--"
"I don’t want to hear it, Jared," she says, holding up a hand. "If you ever thought I wouldn’t guess, then let me assure you right now that I guessed a long time ago."
His mouth tightens. "Okay, then. I guess my next question is why you waited ‘til now to do something about it."
She smiles at him. "Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours."
He thinks back. "What was that question again? I got distracted for a minute, I don’t know why."
"I asked you if you felt okay. Any nausea?"
"Would you untie me if I said yes?"
"No, but I might get you a bowl to puke into."
"Very kind of you." He considers the question. "But no, I feel okay. Groggy, thirsty, but okay."
Jenny’s ready for this; she picks up a bottle with a straw in it. "I’ve got some water here if you want it."
"Please."
She props his head up with one hand and the bottle in the other while he takes a few swallows, then pulls the it away from him. "Hey," he complains. "I wasn’t done yet."
"I’ll give you some more in a minute," she says. "Too much at once, and you will get sick."
"Oh, Nurse Jenny, you take such good care of me." He watches as she sets the bottle back on the table. "I answered your question, so it’s your turn. If you knew all along what was going on, why didn’t you do something about it before now? I haven’t touched you for months."
"I know you haven’t," she says, climbing up on the high bed and spreading her skirt to swing one leg over him and settle her hips over his. "That’s why now -- I want to know why you stopped."
:::
She’s on her hands and knees tonight while he fucks her from behind, one hand on her shoulder and the other tangled in her long hair and the blindfold he’s tied around her eyes. He’ll ride her right up to the edge, then pull out and fuck her with his fingers until he’s come down some and ready to go for a while longer. Jenny doesn’t get a rest. He wouldn’t let her rest if she asked, but in fact, she hasn’t asked.
They’ve been at this for an hour now. Jenny’s come twice, and the insides of her thighs are sticky with it. By now she’s making noises, never loud, but strangled and continuous. Jared can’t tell whether it’s pain or ecstasy, and honestly, it doesn’t matter much either way. As long as she keeps bucking her hips like this, as long as her spine dips low in that improbable arch, as long as she’s open and wet and malleable, he’s good.
He tightens his hand around the blindfold. She’s so defenseless like this, even more than usual, and when he’s not making strangled sounds of his own, he’s thinking out loud.
"Jenny, you’re so good, too good not to share. One day I’ll take you somewhere, some roadhouse or honky-tonk, and let anyone who wants you have a turn. Cowboys, truckers, bikers, I’ll let you pick." Jenny whimpers, and he imagines that he can feel her bones under his hands, sturdy but breakable, grinding against each other. "You want to get fucked all night, I bet we could arrange it so easily." His own hips falter against hers, and out of nowhere, he’s coming, pumping into the condom, and when he shoves two fingers into her around his dick to pulse his fingertips over her g-spot, she’s done too. Again.
She falls forward when he pulls out, as if his dick’s been the only thing keeping her upright. He gathers her up and deposits her in one of his guest chairs, and pulls her legs open to lap a quick stripe up her cunt, poking his tongue in for a taste, but not bothering to clean her up. They’re not done yet; a little recovery time and they can start all over again.
Jenny shifts in her chair to rub her calf up his side. She pulls the blindfold up to her forehead to peer lazily down at him, wrecked and exhausted, and it’s his favorite look on her. If he could keep her naked and debauched and at his service, twenty-four-seven, he wouldn’t say no. Not that many men would.
Gonna leave that blindfold on, Jenny," he says, "when I take you out. You’ll be fucked by so many people, and you won’t know who. They’ll see you on the street, at the grocery store, and they’ll know. And you won’t. Every man you see, he’ll be a possibility." He stuffs three fingers into her cunt and feels it contract around him, and a muffled keen breaks from her. "You like that, Jenny? Wanna go out sometime?"
"Mmhmm," she hums, in her low, scratchy voice, and her head falls against the high back of the chair.
:::
Jared’s brows crease. "Wait, you don’t want to know why I started, only why I stopped?" She nods, and he shakes his head. "I don’t understand you, at all. I’ve been sure that you’re pulling a Lisbeth Salander on me, but I’m starting to think that’s not the goal at all."
"Well, maybe I’ll reserve the right, just in case. But no, that’s not the immediate goal." She puts her hands on Jared’s shoulders and shifts forward to peer more closely at him in the lamplight. Through the fabic of her dress, she feels him twitch against her, exhales, and her hips move again, involuntarily seeking tighter contact. There’s a heavy, loosening feeling in her lower belly. If she touched herself now, she’d find herself wet, from the feel of his growing erection, without a direct touch at all. And by the way he moves underneath her, he can tell. He thrusts upward again, minutely.
"So? Did you get caught? Was I too risky? Did you find someone else?" This last option feels distasteful to her. She doesn’t want him to be doing this with someone else, and it’s dismaying, to discover that for her, so far that’s the worst case scenario.
There’s a long, preoccupied pause. He says, finally, "It wasn’t any of those things. Or, I don’t know, it was, in a way, but... it’s hard to explain."
"Oh, well, we’ve got hours," she replies. "Days. I hope you don’t have plans for the weekend."
He glances at the clock on the bedside table, then back at her. "I’m not trying to be difficult here. Right at this second, I feel that’d be a stupid idea." He turns his wrists meaningfully against the cords tying them. "It’s that I don’t have any one answer. Or if there was one, it’s that it felt like the right time to stop."
On reflection, it seems entirely possible that Jared doesn’t know precisely why he ultimately decided not to continue. If she’s an an organizer, a careful treader, he’s neither of those things. He’s the one who swings the bat, wildly and with a touch of real genius, and takes off running, and it’s her job to help make sure he touches all the bases.
She sits back, and reexperiences the falling-domino effect of their combined responses as her weight redistributes. He’s not indifferent now, at least there’s that. "We’ll table that one, maybe come back to it later." He looks slightly relieved. "What about the question you thought I was going to ask in the first place, then? Why me, and why this?"
Surprisingly, this seems a question he’s more comfortable with. "That’s another complicated answer, I guess. You were there, that’s part of it. Accessible, but not too close."
"Flattering," she says dryly.
"Yeah, I’m a flatterer, all right. But if it makes you feel better, you’re also improbably gorgeous --"
Huh. "You think so?"
"What, you don’t?" He’s skeptical, that’s clear enough.
She shrugs. She’s herself, too close for objectivity. "I didn’t realize I was your type, is all." To the best of her knowledge, which is actually substantial, Jared prefers tiny, cuddly, ambitious brunettes, and Jenny’s none of those things.
"Yeah, well." He looks around her bedroom. "This is a nice room, Jen. I bet you like it. It looks like you, vintage but not fussy. Cozy."
"I do like it," she agrees automatically, confused at the abrupt change of subject.
"It’s not my style at all," Jared continues. "My place, it’s a condo, professionally decorated, all modern stuff. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate yours. You get that?"
She gets it, but can’t help needling him anyway. "Are you comparing me to an apartment?"
He laughs. "Well, what’d you expect? I’m a construction manager. I measure everything with an engineering scale."
:::
Jared wouldn’t normally answer his phone, but Jenny’s still dozing in the chair with her face mashed against the wing, and he’s sitting behind the desk, all caught up on baseball scores and google news, and there’s no way he’s surfing porn at work, and if he spends one more minute tonight looking at budget numbers, he’s going to walk out and move to Jamaica and never come back. The way she’s splayed out, he could probably begin round two without her, without even bothering to move her, and he’s just beginning to seriously consider it when his phone rings, and he hits the connect button without thinking. Caller ID tells him Chad’s on the line.
"Hey, man, where are you? On my way out for wings and beer and poker. Wanna join?"
"I’m at work. Sorry, not happening tonight."
"It’s ten, and you’ve been at work for how many hours now? Thirteen? Fourteen?"
"More like fifteen."
"Not helping your case, there. And you have to eat --"
"I ordered in."
"-- and you can’t work your life away," Chad continues without pausing. "I seriously can’t be friends with someone that pathetic."
"Go ahead, dude, cut my pathetic ass out of your life. We’ll see how that goes. Who’re you gonna call next time your car breaks down in Hill Country at 3am, huh?"
Chad grumbles. "I’ll join AAA. Been meaning to do it. And anyway, that was a fucking life-affirming night, man, don’t front."
"It was a pretty good night, yeah."
"Hey, we’re buds, right? Good nights are what we do. Which means that I have got to get you out of that office. It’s my responsibility as your wingman. It’s Friday night, there’re chicks all over this city who don’t even know they’re hot for you yet, and it’s time to enlighten ‘em, are we agreed?"
"Chad --"
"Shut up and open up the goddamn door, dude. I’m in your parking lot, and I’m coming in."
It takes about five seconds for Chad’s words to register. "You’re outside? Right now?"
"Isn’t that what I said? Let me in, asswipe. I’m staging an intervention."
Jared doesn’t panic. He doesn’t have time to panic, and anyway, he only has to make an excuse and get rid of Chad, and no one will ever be the wiser.
He’s not panicking.
:::
"And, uh." Jenny stops, and the silence stretches between them.
"Come on, now. You’ve said more to me tonight than you have on any given work week for the entire time I’ve known you. You’re not gonna falter now, are you?"
"No." She takes a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask, sure." Jenny’s troubled by the casual way he says it, the implication that it’s his decision to answer it. The past minute or so’s seen a subtle power shift, and she’s off-balance. It’s probably not a good idea to ask her question. Did you wonder if I liked it, or didn’t you care?
She isn’t sure that she wants to hear the answer, anyway. "No, never mind."
"Chicken." His voice is barely above a whisper.
The cadence of it, the taunting quality, has her blood racing, and it brings up another question. "Okay, then. Did you used to talk me through it? Sometimes I get flashes of things, and I don’t know if they’re real, and I always wondered about the things you said. The things I thought you said."
"Probably. I don’t remember any specifics, but I’m a talker. I never shut up any other time, and sex isn’t an exception." This is undeniably true, but that wasn’t what she was asking. "Or was that question about what in particular I said? Or was it a question about whether you liked it?"
Jenny’s voice is more defensive than she’d like. "No, I wanted to know if it really happened."
"It really happened. And I’ll give you another answer for free: trust me, you fucking loved it. I could probably talk you off without ever touching you, although I never actually tried. Too impatient for that." He stops as she wonders which one of them she’s talking about, as if something’s only now occurred to him. "Like you said, we do have all night. We could try it now, if you want."
"Yeah, that’d be productive."
"Productive? Is that what you wanted out of me tonight? Well, why didn’t you say? If you’d given me advance notice, I’d have gotten my assistant to type up an agenda for us --" she gestures sharply to cut him off, and, somewhat unexpectedly, it works. He sighs. "Look, I’m not trying to be mean, I’m teasing. I’m still not quite clear on why I’m even here, to be honest."
"I asked you a question --"
"And I told you that I didn’t have a single answer for you. So where does that leave us? You apparently don’t want to punish me yourself, or turn me in. Given that the answer you wanted isn’t coming, we now have two options: you can untie me, or you can keep me tied up, and if you want me tied up, then we have do something, right? That was one suggestion. I can come up with more."
"Yeah, I’ll bet you can."
He bucks his hips, and she grabs onto his hipbones to keep from being jostled off. "Sweetheart, I can think of so many things. Some things we’ve done, and some we haven’t, and they all sound fucking awesome to me right about now. If talking you off isn’t something you’re interested in, it’s all good. I’ll keep going down the list. I’m sure we can find something else to do."
Jenny’s lips tighten. Jared’s a grade-a jackass, but she’s angry at herself as much as she’s angry at Jared. She’s drugged him and tied him up and he’s still got the upper hand? Unacceptable, Jenny.
"No," she says. "I’ll improvise. It’s not my strong suit, but I’ve gotten kind of used to thinking on my feet. You’ve thrown out my agendas often enough to teach me that. I guess I should thank you for it, right?"
She leans across him to burrow into the bedside table and pulls out a blue velvet box. "So I guess... I’m driving tonight. You can make suggestions, and I’ll feel free to take them or discard them. Go ahead and talk to me, if you want, and if I’m tired of hearing you, I’ll gag you. I might let you come at some point, or I might leave you hanging, if I’m still disliking you as much when we get to that point as I am right at this minute." She laughs at Jared’s expression. "Don’t worry, there’s nothing in the box that’ll kill you. I’ll show you everything before I use it on you, how’s that?"
:::
Jared pulls open the door, and Chad pushes past him. "Christ, your office isn’t that big," he says. What took you so long?"
He’d wasted some time not panicking in the reception lobby, is what, trying to convince himself that he could always ignore Chad. In the end, though, he’d been forced to admit he couldn’t see a way out of opening the door to let him in.
"I’m busy, did I forget to make that clear? I’ve been working all day on this budget, and ifI don’t finish, a very important client’s going to be pissed."
"The office’ll be here tomorrow, I bet. So will your budget. C’mon, man," he wheedles, jangling his keys. "You’ll have a night out tonight, get laid, come in tomorrow all rested up and shit."
"Don’t whine, Chad, okay? Believe me, I’d come if I could, but I can’t. I’ll be here tomorrow, you’re right about that, but there’s some stuff that I can’t do without Jenny here, and--" he realizes his mistake even as he’s saying the words.
"Oh, dude, that’s Jenny’s car in the lot? Sweeeet." The last word comes out in three distinct syllables. "One day, I’m gonna make that girl fall in love with me, and when she does, I’m gonna teach her how to talk." He’s already speeding up the stairs. It takes Jared a second to realize what’s happening, and he jumps after Chad.
He catches up on the landing, and grabs Chad by the elbow. "Ow! Jesus Christ, man, I’m not on the books to be manhandled tonight. Keep your hands to yourself."
Jared steps back. "Sorry, sorry. Just. You can’t go up there."
"Why not? She naked or something?" Jared makes a scoffing noise, but something must give him away, because a wicked, prurient glee is dawning on Chad’s face. It’s an expression he normally reserves for discussions about porn. "Holy shit, she is naked."
"Uh." Jared rakes his hands through his hair. "Look, Chad."
"Holy shit, Padalecki! You’ve got Jenny fucking Ackles in your office. Naked." His mouth is open. He might be drooling. "You lucky bastard."
"Okay, okay. So you know. Understand now why I don’t want you to go up?"
"Yeah, I think that’s a pretty fucking good reason. In fact, it might be the only reason that’d keep me from clubbing you over the head and dragging you by the hair to a sports bar." He shakes his head in awe. "I mean, I’d be happy enough for you if you were only getting laid. But you’ve, like, conquered Everest or something."
"Shut the fuck up, Chad."
"Okay, you gotta tell me. How is she? Girls like that, the quiet ones, they’re usually spectacular in bed. She good?"
Jared’s fingers are twitching. "Chad."
"No, seriously. I wonder if she’d --"
"Hey." He doesn’t mean for it to come out as loudly as it does. His voice echoes in the stairwell, bounces off the walls. "Enough."
"What?"
"She’s about twenty feet away, Chad. Could you just...not?"
"Ohhh, okay. I respect your need for discretion." He punches Jared on the shoulder.
"You don’t know the meaning of the word."
"Sure I do." He thinks for a minute. "Well, actually, I don’t, but I don’t mind giving secrecy a shot. This once, for a worthy cause. And man, is she worthy."
"Jared? You woke me up." The third voice comes from the top of the stairs, and Jared knows from Chad’s face what’s standing there. He turns slowly, and takes it in: Jenny’s slender feet, the long, slightly bowed legs, the shiny slit of her pussy, the round breasts with their pebbled, peachy-pink nipples. The chewed-on lips and the bruises and the hair and the blindfold, which she’s still got shoved up around her forehead.
"Hi, Chad, it’s good to see you. Are we all going out like you said? Because I should probably get dressed first, right?"
"Holy shit," says Chad, reverently, eyes shining.
Jared might feel a migraine coming on.
:::
The first thing she does, before she extracts anything from the box, is unbelt her dress. He seems wary of it, so she leans forward to whisper. "Even if I wanted to beat you with it, I don’t think it’d do any actual damage. It’s a fabric belt." He doesn’t look reassured.
Good.
She sets it to one side and unfastens the top button of her dress, works her way down. "It’s good for my wardrobe that you did stop. So many missing buttons, tiny rips, pulled seams. If I didn’t know how to sew, I’d have billed you for damage a year ago."
He shakes his head as she unbuttons. "It’s those dresses you wear! There must be thirty buttons down the front of that one, and that’s not even nearly the most complicated. It’s not that I’m impatient --"
"Oh, sure, you’re the soul of patience."
"Fine, okay, but I’m not only impatient. It’s that, fuck, I’ve got a minor in structural physics and I still struggle with your wardrobe. That’s just needlessly overcomplicated."
"It not overcomplicated if you stop to think about it, and you don’t -- I mean, I don’t remember, but it’s pretty clear that you take off my clothes by pulling on a loose piece and hoping for the best."
"You say potato," he says absently, watching as she pulls the dress open and shrugs it off her shoulders. "You’re naked underneath. You went to the dinner like that?"
"No. I had a petticoat on. I took it off before you...woke up. It was itchy. Taffeta."
"No underwear, though."
"No."
"No bra."
"No."
"Jenny, you’re killing me. I can’t touch you?"
"No. At least, not with your hands. But I tell you what I’ll do." She settles back onto his upper thighs. "How’s that?"
"You can’t move up a little?" That hopeful expression gives him a misleadingly boyish look.
"No."
He rolls his eyes. "Is no all you can say?"
"No." She smirks at him. "I need room to work, sorry." She pulls a vibrator out of the box.
"You’re not gonna use that thing on me, are you?"
"Well, not yet, but look, it’s nice and small." And powerful, but she doesn’t mention that.
She switches it on and, with Jared’s eyes on her, pushes it up into herself. It goes easily. She’s been wet since she got dressed tonight. She shifts a little, and jerks when it hits the perfect spot.
"God, you’re drenched. You’re dripping onto me, Jenny."
"Oh! Uh, sorry about that." She kneels up, and he arches to follow her.
"No, it’s good. I like that you’re so wet. I like slipping my fingers into it. I like tasting it."
Her thigh muscles give, and the vibrator nudges up against her in the most amazing way. "God, you do like to talk, don’t you?" She’s finding, though, that even with all her senses intact, she doesn’t mind it.
"Yeah, I do."
"I don’t."
"No, really? Shocking." He smiles at her expression. "Well, I’ve had time to learn a little about your style, is all. I have that advantage over you." It is an advantage. She hasn’t considered before now that he understands her, in some ways, better than she understands him. That’s never happened to her before, and she finds it both disturbing and arousing (a combination she’s discovering works especially well for her); she tightens her inner muscles around the vibrator and quivers. "Anyway," he continues, "you don’t talk much, but you like when I make you talk."
Does she?
Her incredulity registers, and he smiles. "I ask you questions, what you like, more or less, ask you what it feels like. You seem to enjoy answering."
That doesn’t sound like her at all. She’ll unpack the idea later, examine it from all angles, but the vibrator shifts again and sensation ripples through her; she’s got other things to concentrate on right now. Silently, she flexes again, releases, flex and release, until every muscle’s involved, she feels it in her throat, clenching her toes, prickling over her scalp. And it vaporizes her, seizing hard, holding on, and on. She hangs there, clutching at Jared’s hipbones to ground herself, and when she can’t tell the difference any more between that bliss and overloaded discomfort -- or if there is a difference -- she fumbles the vibrator out.
Jared’s watching avidly, the line of her relaxing spine, the sloppy, soaked piece of battery-operated silicone. "Goddamn, Jenny."
"Yeah," she agrees, and they regard each other until she straightens. "All right," she says. "Your turn."
:::
They all head up to his office, because it turns out there’s stuff that needs straightening out.
"Dude, is she high?" Chad whispers. His eyes keep straying to Jenny, who’s sprawled back out in the wingback chair. Jared’s told her to put on her dress, and she has, kind of, pulling it over her head but not bothering to lace up the sides, meticulously, thoroughly loosened by Jared a couple of hours ago. So the important bits are covered, but somehow, half-dressed, she looks twice as naked as she did when she was naked.
"Of course not," Jared says. "That would be illegal," he says. "She absolutely is not."
"Ahhh," says Chad.
"I’m not," says Jenny. "This is a drug-free workplace, Chad. If I get high, Jared has to fire me. I don’t want to be fired."
Chad squints at Jenny. "Your hearing is mighty good, my friend."
"Thanks," she says absently, examining her bruised hip through the gap in her dress. Chad’s examining her hip, too.
Jared scrubs at his forehead. "Come here, Jenny, let’s lace you up."
She rises from the chair obediently and comes to stand before him. They all study Jared’s fingers as he threads the ribbons back into their grommets, tightens them, and ties them at her waist. As he tightens the second bow, Jenny touches her fingers to his. He looks up at her, and she smiles. "I like when you dress me," she says.
Chad clears his throat. "Yeah, it’s pretty hot, I’ll agree with that."
Jared glares at Chad, then bends over to retrieve Jenny’s panties from the floor. "Here," he says, "put these on."
They watch Jenny placidly pulling the scrap of lace up over her hips. "No need to go to any extra trouble on my account."
"Chad," says Jared, warningly. "I am about six seconds from punching you in the face."
He leans back in his chair with a smirk. "I’m glad you warned me, bro. I’d never have guessed otherwise."
Jared grits his teeth. "Look, you’re going to leave as soon as you promise me, under threat of a slow and painful death, that you will never breathe a word of this to anyone."
"You got it," Chad says readily, still smirking.
"I mean it, Chad."
"Oh, I know you do. And you don’t have to threaten me, dude." Chad spreads his hands wide. "I’m your wingman, remember? I got your back here."
Jared watches Chad narrowly for a minute, then nods. "Okay."
"Okay."
"Oh," says Jenny. "You’re leaving? I thought we were going out. Or that you were going to fuck me."
"Jenny --"
Chad’s all glassy-eyed again. "Well, if you insist, I guess I could do that."
"Well, Jared was saying he wanted to --"
"Chad, it’s time for you to get the hell out of here. Now."
"You’re such a fucking buzzkill, Jared," Chad says, but he stands, and walks around the desk to smack Jared upside the head. "You’re not really taking her out like this, are you?"
"No."
"Good." Chad peers at Jenny over his head. "You make him take care of you, okay?"
"He always does," says Jenny cheerfully, and Jared feels a little sick.
:::
"Look," he says, then stops. It’s the first time all night she’s seen Jared uneasy, and her first indication that they both understand she’s the one in charge here. The first time she understands the appeal of his side of the equation on a visceral level rather than an intellectual one. Something hot and nasty surges in her. She could get used to this very quickly.
That idea makes her generous. "I won’t do anything you don’t want," she says, feeling like a skeevy boyfriend on prom night, but pressing on. "Let’s give it a shot before you say a flat no."
His arms and legs pull the cords taut, but he doesn’t object when she shifts to kneel between his spread legs. "Go easy on me," he says, and there’s a smile on his face, but she can tell he’s only half-joking.
She thinks about waking up on mornings after, distinct fingerprint-shaped bruises gripping her hips, bite marks on her shoulders and breasts. "What, the way you’ve always gone easy on me?" she asks, and this time, he does look slightly embarrassed.
"Jared," she says, and stops, trying to articulate. It’s never the easiest of tasks, especially now, it seems, when they’re both naked on her bed. "There’s no point in not saying straight out that I don’t get off on it, as furious as the idea makes me. You may not enjoy having me in control, making you try this, and I’m good with that. You don’t like it, you never have to do it again, and I won’t be sorry." She kneels up over him and slowly lowers her weight over his, her legs closed between his open ones. "But I’m not you. I do like it." She hopes she doesn’t have to make herself any clearer than this.
She’d masturbate in front of him twenty times in a row without stopping if it meant she didn’t ever have to be any more explicit than this. She’s not sure she’d ever actually be able to say it right out. Not even tonight, not even now that she’s stepped so far outside her comfort zone she may never find her way back in. She can’t ask.
Jared’s stares intently up at her, until she shifts uncomfortably on top of him. Finally, he nods. "I hear you."
"Jared --"
"I hear you, Jenny."
"Okay." And now that she’s (sort of) said what she needed to say, maybe they can move on. Jared’s skin is hot, a little slippery with sweat, and there’s so overwhelmingly much of it. She wriggles again, relishing the slide of muscle under all that skin, the slip of his still-hard cock under her thigh, and raises herself again. The cooler night air rushes to fill the space between them, and she can feel her nipples tighten.
Jared’s watching her. "You know what I love about you?" he asks. "I love that your skin’s so sensitive, especially after you come. I love that I can run a hand up your spine, or across the hairs on your arm, and that’s all I have to do to make you shiver."
"Oversensitive," she says.
He shakes his head. "No such thing," he says. "Maybe I’ll show you one day."
"Hmmm," she says, and fishes in her box for the lube.
It’s small enough that it slips in easily. She watches his face as it glides in. He’s turned fully inward right now, something she only sees when he’s deep in a new project, when it’s at its shiniest. At the office, his hyperfocus is only magnetic. Here, it’s addictive. She slides it out a half inch, twists, and his whole body jerks, eyes blind.
She leans forward. "I’m leaving it in. Don’t you dare push it out." She doesn’t think he’s going to try, though. She’s not sure the thought’s occurred to him. She’s not sure he’s even hearing her right now.
It’s tempting, to let it wind him up until he breaks, no other stimulation, nothing else to blame the breakage on. But she wants in on this; she has no guarantees that she’ll ever spend another night with him, and she wants at least one that she can actually remember.
Rolling the condom on has him hissing, and when she sinks down on him, he’s back in the room. "Jenny," he says. "Jen. Come here."
He kisses like he does absolutely everything else, concentrated and headlong. He tastes like something she shouldn’t want but does anyway. She can’t tell if she remembers his kisses or not.
:::
After Jared locks the door behind Chad, he climbs the stairs reluctantly. He doesn’t want to face this cheerfully unihibited Jenny. Suddenly, fiercely, he wants the Jenny he sits fifteen feet away from every day from eight to five, blushing and kindly and remote.
That Jenny isn’t in his office. When he opens the door, the other Jenny’s still standing next to his desk, as if she has no volition of her own. Wherever and in whatever position he decides to put her in, she’ll stay there, bending to his will without the slightest hint of rebellion.
She smiles at him. "I’d have fucked him. I don’t mind." She wets her lips. "I’d like it better if you watched, though."
"I don’t want you to fuck Chad," he says irritably, and this is true, but he doesn’t understand why that is. An hour ago, he was getting them both off on the idea. And it’s not the idea of it being Chad that’s got him balking. It’s more that at some point tonight, maybe standing there in the office stairwell, everything changed. He can’t tell what everything changed into, though.
"Well, that’s fine," she says equably. " I don’t have to if you don’t want it." She toys with the ties at her waist. "Are you going to fuck me again?"
He studies her. One word from him, and she’d strip the panties back off, back up against the wall, wrap her legs around his waist as he slid into her. Accommodating, as always. "No," he says. "I’ll drive you home."
It’s not until he has to ask her for directions that he realizes: he’s never driven her before.
:::
She’s not moving much, a slow grind, a minimum of friction. It’s building in both of them. Jared, clearly not content with a gradual build, keeps trying to pick up the pace, but his range of motion is limited, and Jenny doesn’t feel like cooperating. She continues at her own pace: steady and thorough, and thoroughly contrarian.
Jared looks like he’s about to explode from sheer frustration. She likes it. He’ll never beg, but it’s almost as much a turn-on to watch him trying not to beg as it is to feel him moving inside her.
She does pick up the pace when his muscles begin spasming involuntarily. Her hands stroke over the sharpness of his hipbones, another addiction in the making, and up her thighs. She pushes an index finger into her own wetness.
Jared lifts his head to catch a better angle, and licks his lips. "Am I allowed to make a request?"
She tilts her head to one side, then gasps as her finger finds its mark. "Sure, as long as you understand I’m not -- oh -- obligated to fulfil it."
"Open yourself up. I want to see you."
Jenny resists the urge to curl up, to climb off. After a moment, she has her nerve sufficiently in hand to sit back. She spreads her thighs more, and spreads herself open. She’s so slippery, her fingers struggle to find a hold.
"Yeah, like that," he says. "Perfect."
It doesn’t take long, after that, her fingers, Jared’s cock, his eyes on her. Jared comes first, with a long, dramatic groan, taut and thrumming after being on edge for so long, and she reaches back to pull the vibrator out, strokes herself quickly to a finish with Jared softening in her, longer but not as intense as her previous orgasm. She pulls off and strips the condom off him, ties it off, all with him watching her.
"You realize that you never took your glasses off, right?" he asks before the silence can get awkward.
She touches her fingers to her face and bites her lip. Naked except for the glasses. Embarrassing, but as far as overlooked details go, at least it’s harmless. "I didn’t realize, no. I forget them a lot." They’re such an extension of her face she doesn’t even think about them most of the time. She considers taking them off, but it seems a little late in the game to worry about looking ridiculous. Might as well leave them on, at this point.
Jared’s smiling at her. "The glasses have always been the first things to go, before," he says. "I like you like this, though."
Jenny makes a face. "What, dorky?"
"Well, yeah. Also flustered. Also pissed off. It’s a new look for you. You’re usually kind of hard to read."
"I’ve been told."
They look at each other silently. "What are you thinking right now? I can hardly ever tell."
Where to start? Her mind’s been churning all night. She’s got a million things she wants to say. All her life, she’s wanted people to ask her that question, and she always thought that if someone ever did ask her, it’d be like a door unlocking inside her, she’d explode with the all the words and thoughts and ideas she’s kept locked up. It’s not working that way, though. She’s as uncomfortable as ever.
She shrugs. "You don’t want to know."
Jared frowns. "No, I think I really do," he says. "It never used to bother me, but for a while now..." She waits for him to finish his sentence, but he never does, and she climbs down off the bed and retrieves her dress from the floor, shrugs it back on.
"Okay," she says. "You want to know what I’m thinking?"
"Hit me," he says. "Uh, not literally."
"Not even if you deserve it?" She sighs. "After tonight, we both deserve smacking, I guess. Anyway, what I’m thinking is that it’s time to untie you. Then maybe we can talk like grownups, for once."
He raises his eyebrows. "You sure you’re up for that?"
She snorts. "Nope. You?"
"Nope."
It’s a scary moment. Jenny takes a deep breath and reaches for his right wrist.
Author: ordinarily
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Jared/Girl!Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~6,900
Summary: Even Jared has moral boundaries, and he withdraws when he realizes he's crossed them with Jenny. But Jenny doesn't consider herself a victim, and her only solution is to give Jared a taste of his own medicine...literally.
Warnings: Rape/noncon.
Notes: Written for Round Six of the blindfold kink meme, for the summary prompt, as a sequel to Just Right and Hard Bargain. I had originally conceived this series as a trilogy, and though this prompt wasn’t exactly where I intended the second fic to go, I did my best to end it in a place that makes the final fic possible. It may come one day.
All week, she’s been busy with Misha, making lists, planning, brainstorming, discussing the details, and not once during all their preparations had Jenny felt nervous. It was something out of a bad spy novel, after all, outrageous, unrelated in any way to real life.
And then earlier tonight, the logistics of it kept her distracted, picking her moment at the company dinner, dosing him surreptitiously, she and her concerned "date" offering to drop him off at home. And even after Misha’d left, there hadn’t been much time to worry.
Now, though. It’s nearly showtime, Jared’s secured -- or at least, she hopes he is -- and she’s waiting for him to wake up, and she can feel everything closing in. Twice in the last fifteen minutes, she’s nearly called the whole thing off, and only the knowledge that she’s gone too far now to go back has kept her on course. She can’t lift him into the car to drive him home, doesn’t have another dose of ketamine to keep him out, can’t call Misha back before he wakes up, so he’s stuck here until he can leave under his own steam; and since she’s going to be found out regardless, she might as well have her say.
(And this sterling logic makes sense, as far as it goes, but it’s not actually helping to steady her nerves.)
She’s folding Jared’s clothes, trying to keep busy, when he stirs. He’s still out of it, doesn’t seem to realize at first that he’s tied up, and when he does, his mobile face is tight with confusion as he tugs at his wrists.
He hasn’t noticed her yet, in the low light of the bedroom. Time to enlighten him, then. She smooths her skirt down with damp palms and steps out of the shadowy corner.
"Hi, Jared. How are you feeling?" She forces herself to lean over him, her heart pounding inside her head, and takes a deep, silent breath. She’s going to have to trust in her knot-tying skills at some point, and it might as well be sooner rather than later.
"Jenny? What’s happening?" Jared stops, confusion deepening before his face goes blank in the space of a blink.
"I think you might be catching on," she says. "Am I right?"
"I think I might be," he agrees, tugging on wrists and ankles, twisting. The cords hold -- it’s one mighty solid bed -- and after a couple of tries, he lies back on the bed, incongruous in this utterly familiar setting. He’s tense, maybe a little bit angry, but if he’s feeling any fear, he’s hiding it well. "What the hell are you doing to me?"
"I haven’t decided," she replies. "What do you do to me when you drug me? Should I do that?"
He has the grace to look away, if not to blush. "I don’t know what you mean."
She leans in closer. "You know that isn’t true."
"Look, Jenny, I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but I promise you--"
"I don’t want to hear it, Jared," she says, holding up a hand. "If you ever thought I wouldn’t guess, then let me assure you right now that I guessed a long time ago."
His mouth tightens. "Okay, then. I guess my next question is why you waited ‘til now to do something about it."
She smiles at him. "Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours."
He thinks back. "What was that question again? I got distracted for a minute, I don’t know why."
"I asked you if you felt okay. Any nausea?"
"Would you untie me if I said yes?"
"No, but I might get you a bowl to puke into."
"Very kind of you." He considers the question. "But no, I feel okay. Groggy, thirsty, but okay."
Jenny’s ready for this; she picks up a bottle with a straw in it. "I’ve got some water here if you want it."
"Please."
She props his head up with one hand and the bottle in the other while he takes a few swallows, then pulls the it away from him. "Hey," he complains. "I wasn’t done yet."
"I’ll give you some more in a minute," she says. "Too much at once, and you will get sick."
"Oh, Nurse Jenny, you take such good care of me." He watches as she sets the bottle back on the table. "I answered your question, so it’s your turn. If you knew all along what was going on, why didn’t you do something about it before now? I haven’t touched you for months."
"I know you haven’t," she says, climbing up on the high bed and spreading her skirt to swing one leg over him and settle her hips over his. "That’s why now -- I want to know why you stopped."
:::
She’s on her hands and knees tonight while he fucks her from behind, one hand on her shoulder and the other tangled in her long hair and the blindfold he’s tied around her eyes. He’ll ride her right up to the edge, then pull out and fuck her with his fingers until he’s come down some and ready to go for a while longer. Jenny doesn’t get a rest. He wouldn’t let her rest if she asked, but in fact, she hasn’t asked.
They’ve been at this for an hour now. Jenny’s come twice, and the insides of her thighs are sticky with it. By now she’s making noises, never loud, but strangled and continuous. Jared can’t tell whether it’s pain or ecstasy, and honestly, it doesn’t matter much either way. As long as she keeps bucking her hips like this, as long as her spine dips low in that improbable arch, as long as she’s open and wet and malleable, he’s good.
He tightens his hand around the blindfold. She’s so defenseless like this, even more than usual, and when he’s not making strangled sounds of his own, he’s thinking out loud.
"Jenny, you’re so good, too good not to share. One day I’ll take you somewhere, some roadhouse or honky-tonk, and let anyone who wants you have a turn. Cowboys, truckers, bikers, I’ll let you pick." Jenny whimpers, and he imagines that he can feel her bones under his hands, sturdy but breakable, grinding against each other. "You want to get fucked all night, I bet we could arrange it so easily." His own hips falter against hers, and out of nowhere, he’s coming, pumping into the condom, and when he shoves two fingers into her around his dick to pulse his fingertips over her g-spot, she’s done too. Again.
She falls forward when he pulls out, as if his dick’s been the only thing keeping her upright. He gathers her up and deposits her in one of his guest chairs, and pulls her legs open to lap a quick stripe up her cunt, poking his tongue in for a taste, but not bothering to clean her up. They’re not done yet; a little recovery time and they can start all over again.
Jenny shifts in her chair to rub her calf up his side. She pulls the blindfold up to her forehead to peer lazily down at him, wrecked and exhausted, and it’s his favorite look on her. If he could keep her naked and debauched and at his service, twenty-four-seven, he wouldn’t say no. Not that many men would.
Gonna leave that blindfold on, Jenny," he says, "when I take you out. You’ll be fucked by so many people, and you won’t know who. They’ll see you on the street, at the grocery store, and they’ll know. And you won’t. Every man you see, he’ll be a possibility." He stuffs three fingers into her cunt and feels it contract around him, and a muffled keen breaks from her. "You like that, Jenny? Wanna go out sometime?"
"Mmhmm," she hums, in her low, scratchy voice, and her head falls against the high back of the chair.
:::
Jared’s brows crease. "Wait, you don’t want to know why I started, only why I stopped?" She nods, and he shakes his head. "I don’t understand you, at all. I’ve been sure that you’re pulling a Lisbeth Salander on me, but I’m starting to think that’s not the goal at all."
"Well, maybe I’ll reserve the right, just in case. But no, that’s not the immediate goal." She puts her hands on Jared’s shoulders and shifts forward to peer more closely at him in the lamplight. Through the fabic of her dress, she feels him twitch against her, exhales, and her hips move again, involuntarily seeking tighter contact. There’s a heavy, loosening feeling in her lower belly. If she touched herself now, she’d find herself wet, from the feel of his growing erection, without a direct touch at all. And by the way he moves underneath her, he can tell. He thrusts upward again, minutely.
"So? Did you get caught? Was I too risky? Did you find someone else?" This last option feels distasteful to her. She doesn’t want him to be doing this with someone else, and it’s dismaying, to discover that for her, so far that’s the worst case scenario.
There’s a long, preoccupied pause. He says, finally, "It wasn’t any of those things. Or, I don’t know, it was, in a way, but... it’s hard to explain."
"Oh, well, we’ve got hours," she replies. "Days. I hope you don’t have plans for the weekend."
He glances at the clock on the bedside table, then back at her. "I’m not trying to be difficult here. Right at this second, I feel that’d be a stupid idea." He turns his wrists meaningfully against the cords tying them. "It’s that I don’t have any one answer. Or if there was one, it’s that it felt like the right time to stop."
On reflection, it seems entirely possible that Jared doesn’t know precisely why he ultimately decided not to continue. If she’s an an organizer, a careful treader, he’s neither of those things. He’s the one who swings the bat, wildly and with a touch of real genius, and takes off running, and it’s her job to help make sure he touches all the bases.
She sits back, and reexperiences the falling-domino effect of their combined responses as her weight redistributes. He’s not indifferent now, at least there’s that. "We’ll table that one, maybe come back to it later." He looks slightly relieved. "What about the question you thought I was going to ask in the first place, then? Why me, and why this?"
Surprisingly, this seems a question he’s more comfortable with. "That’s another complicated answer, I guess. You were there, that’s part of it. Accessible, but not too close."
"Flattering," she says dryly.
"Yeah, I’m a flatterer, all right. But if it makes you feel better, you’re also improbably gorgeous --"
Huh. "You think so?"
"What, you don’t?" He’s skeptical, that’s clear enough.
She shrugs. She’s herself, too close for objectivity. "I didn’t realize I was your type, is all." To the best of her knowledge, which is actually substantial, Jared prefers tiny, cuddly, ambitious brunettes, and Jenny’s none of those things.
"Yeah, well." He looks around her bedroom. "This is a nice room, Jen. I bet you like it. It looks like you, vintage but not fussy. Cozy."
"I do like it," she agrees automatically, confused at the abrupt change of subject.
"It’s not my style at all," Jared continues. "My place, it’s a condo, professionally decorated, all modern stuff. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate yours. You get that?"
She gets it, but can’t help needling him anyway. "Are you comparing me to an apartment?"
He laughs. "Well, what’d you expect? I’m a construction manager. I measure everything with an engineering scale."
:::
Jared wouldn’t normally answer his phone, but Jenny’s still dozing in the chair with her face mashed against the wing, and he’s sitting behind the desk, all caught up on baseball scores and google news, and there’s no way he’s surfing porn at work, and if he spends one more minute tonight looking at budget numbers, he’s going to walk out and move to Jamaica and never come back. The way she’s splayed out, he could probably begin round two without her, without even bothering to move her, and he’s just beginning to seriously consider it when his phone rings, and he hits the connect button without thinking. Caller ID tells him Chad’s on the line.
"Hey, man, where are you? On my way out for wings and beer and poker. Wanna join?"
"I’m at work. Sorry, not happening tonight."
"It’s ten, and you’ve been at work for how many hours now? Thirteen? Fourteen?"
"More like fifteen."
"Not helping your case, there. And you have to eat --"
"I ordered in."
"-- and you can’t work your life away," Chad continues without pausing. "I seriously can’t be friends with someone that pathetic."
"Go ahead, dude, cut my pathetic ass out of your life. We’ll see how that goes. Who’re you gonna call next time your car breaks down in Hill Country at 3am, huh?"
Chad grumbles. "I’ll join AAA. Been meaning to do it. And anyway, that was a fucking life-affirming night, man, don’t front."
"It was a pretty good night, yeah."
"Hey, we’re buds, right? Good nights are what we do. Which means that I have got to get you out of that office. It’s my responsibility as your wingman. It’s Friday night, there’re chicks all over this city who don’t even know they’re hot for you yet, and it’s time to enlighten ‘em, are we agreed?"
"Chad --"
"Shut up and open up the goddamn door, dude. I’m in your parking lot, and I’m coming in."
It takes about five seconds for Chad’s words to register. "You’re outside? Right now?"
"Isn’t that what I said? Let me in, asswipe. I’m staging an intervention."
Jared doesn’t panic. He doesn’t have time to panic, and anyway, he only has to make an excuse and get rid of Chad, and no one will ever be the wiser.
He’s not panicking.
:::
"And, uh." Jenny stops, and the silence stretches between them.
"Come on, now. You’ve said more to me tonight than you have on any given work week for the entire time I’ve known you. You’re not gonna falter now, are you?"
"No." She takes a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask, sure." Jenny’s troubled by the casual way he says it, the implication that it’s his decision to answer it. The past minute or so’s seen a subtle power shift, and she’s off-balance. It’s probably not a good idea to ask her question. Did you wonder if I liked it, or didn’t you care?
She isn’t sure that she wants to hear the answer, anyway. "No, never mind."
"Chicken." His voice is barely above a whisper.
The cadence of it, the taunting quality, has her blood racing, and it brings up another question. "Okay, then. Did you used to talk me through it? Sometimes I get flashes of things, and I don’t know if they’re real, and I always wondered about the things you said. The things I thought you said."
"Probably. I don’t remember any specifics, but I’m a talker. I never shut up any other time, and sex isn’t an exception." This is undeniably true, but that wasn’t what she was asking. "Or was that question about what in particular I said? Or was it a question about whether you liked it?"
Jenny’s voice is more defensive than she’d like. "No, I wanted to know if it really happened."
"It really happened. And I’ll give you another answer for free: trust me, you fucking loved it. I could probably talk you off without ever touching you, although I never actually tried. Too impatient for that." He stops as she wonders which one of them she’s talking about, as if something’s only now occurred to him. "Like you said, we do have all night. We could try it now, if you want."
"Yeah, that’d be productive."
"Productive? Is that what you wanted out of me tonight? Well, why didn’t you say? If you’d given me advance notice, I’d have gotten my assistant to type up an agenda for us --" she gestures sharply to cut him off, and, somewhat unexpectedly, it works. He sighs. "Look, I’m not trying to be mean, I’m teasing. I’m still not quite clear on why I’m even here, to be honest."
"I asked you a question --"
"And I told you that I didn’t have a single answer for you. So where does that leave us? You apparently don’t want to punish me yourself, or turn me in. Given that the answer you wanted isn’t coming, we now have two options: you can untie me, or you can keep me tied up, and if you want me tied up, then we have do something, right? That was one suggestion. I can come up with more."
"Yeah, I’ll bet you can."
He bucks his hips, and she grabs onto his hipbones to keep from being jostled off. "Sweetheart, I can think of so many things. Some things we’ve done, and some we haven’t, and they all sound fucking awesome to me right about now. If talking you off isn’t something you’re interested in, it’s all good. I’ll keep going down the list. I’m sure we can find something else to do."
Jenny’s lips tighten. Jared’s a grade-a jackass, but she’s angry at herself as much as she’s angry at Jared. She’s drugged him and tied him up and he’s still got the upper hand? Unacceptable, Jenny.
"No," she says. "I’ll improvise. It’s not my strong suit, but I’ve gotten kind of used to thinking on my feet. You’ve thrown out my agendas often enough to teach me that. I guess I should thank you for it, right?"
She leans across him to burrow into the bedside table and pulls out a blue velvet box. "So I guess... I’m driving tonight. You can make suggestions, and I’ll feel free to take them or discard them. Go ahead and talk to me, if you want, and if I’m tired of hearing you, I’ll gag you. I might let you come at some point, or I might leave you hanging, if I’m still disliking you as much when we get to that point as I am right at this minute." She laughs at Jared’s expression. "Don’t worry, there’s nothing in the box that’ll kill you. I’ll show you everything before I use it on you, how’s that?"
:::
Jared pulls open the door, and Chad pushes past him. "Christ, your office isn’t that big," he says. What took you so long?"
He’d wasted some time not panicking in the reception lobby, is what, trying to convince himself that he could always ignore Chad. In the end, though, he’d been forced to admit he couldn’t see a way out of opening the door to let him in.
"I’m busy, did I forget to make that clear? I’ve been working all day on this budget, and ifI don’t finish, a very important client’s going to be pissed."
"The office’ll be here tomorrow, I bet. So will your budget. C’mon, man," he wheedles, jangling his keys. "You’ll have a night out tonight, get laid, come in tomorrow all rested up and shit."
"Don’t whine, Chad, okay? Believe me, I’d come if I could, but I can’t. I’ll be here tomorrow, you’re right about that, but there’s some stuff that I can’t do without Jenny here, and--" he realizes his mistake even as he’s saying the words.
"Oh, dude, that’s Jenny’s car in the lot? Sweeeet." The last word comes out in three distinct syllables. "One day, I’m gonna make that girl fall in love with me, and when she does, I’m gonna teach her how to talk." He’s already speeding up the stairs. It takes Jared a second to realize what’s happening, and he jumps after Chad.
He catches up on the landing, and grabs Chad by the elbow. "Ow! Jesus Christ, man, I’m not on the books to be manhandled tonight. Keep your hands to yourself."
Jared steps back. "Sorry, sorry. Just. You can’t go up there."
"Why not? She naked or something?" Jared makes a scoffing noise, but something must give him away, because a wicked, prurient glee is dawning on Chad’s face. It’s an expression he normally reserves for discussions about porn. "Holy shit, she is naked."
"Uh." Jared rakes his hands through his hair. "Look, Chad."
"Holy shit, Padalecki! You’ve got Jenny fucking Ackles in your office. Naked." His mouth is open. He might be drooling. "You lucky bastard."
"Okay, okay. So you know. Understand now why I don’t want you to go up?"
"Yeah, I think that’s a pretty fucking good reason. In fact, it might be the only reason that’d keep me from clubbing you over the head and dragging you by the hair to a sports bar." He shakes his head in awe. "I mean, I’d be happy enough for you if you were only getting laid. But you’ve, like, conquered Everest or something."
"Shut the fuck up, Chad."
"Okay, you gotta tell me. How is she? Girls like that, the quiet ones, they’re usually spectacular in bed. She good?"
Jared’s fingers are twitching. "Chad."
"No, seriously. I wonder if she’d --"
"Hey." He doesn’t mean for it to come out as loudly as it does. His voice echoes in the stairwell, bounces off the walls. "Enough."
"What?"
"She’s about twenty feet away, Chad. Could you just...not?"
"Ohhh, okay. I respect your need for discretion." He punches Jared on the shoulder.
"You don’t know the meaning of the word."
"Sure I do." He thinks for a minute. "Well, actually, I don’t, but I don’t mind giving secrecy a shot. This once, for a worthy cause. And man, is she worthy."
"Jared? You woke me up." The third voice comes from the top of the stairs, and Jared knows from Chad’s face what’s standing there. He turns slowly, and takes it in: Jenny’s slender feet, the long, slightly bowed legs, the shiny slit of her pussy, the round breasts with their pebbled, peachy-pink nipples. The chewed-on lips and the bruises and the hair and the blindfold, which she’s still got shoved up around her forehead.
"Hi, Chad, it’s good to see you. Are we all going out like you said? Because I should probably get dressed first, right?"
"Holy shit," says Chad, reverently, eyes shining.
Jared might feel a migraine coming on.
:::
The first thing she does, before she extracts anything from the box, is unbelt her dress. He seems wary of it, so she leans forward to whisper. "Even if I wanted to beat you with it, I don’t think it’d do any actual damage. It’s a fabric belt." He doesn’t look reassured.
Good.
She sets it to one side and unfastens the top button of her dress, works her way down. "It’s good for my wardrobe that you did stop. So many missing buttons, tiny rips, pulled seams. If I didn’t know how to sew, I’d have billed you for damage a year ago."
He shakes his head as she unbuttons. "It’s those dresses you wear! There must be thirty buttons down the front of that one, and that’s not even nearly the most complicated. It’s not that I’m impatient --"
"Oh, sure, you’re the soul of patience."
"Fine, okay, but I’m not only impatient. It’s that, fuck, I’ve got a minor in structural physics and I still struggle with your wardrobe. That’s just needlessly overcomplicated."
"It not overcomplicated if you stop to think about it, and you don’t -- I mean, I don’t remember, but it’s pretty clear that you take off my clothes by pulling on a loose piece and hoping for the best."
"You say potato," he says absently, watching as she pulls the dress open and shrugs it off her shoulders. "You’re naked underneath. You went to the dinner like that?"
"No. I had a petticoat on. I took it off before you...woke up. It was itchy. Taffeta."
"No underwear, though."
"No."
"No bra."
"No."
"Jenny, you’re killing me. I can’t touch you?"
"No. At least, not with your hands. But I tell you what I’ll do." She settles back onto his upper thighs. "How’s that?"
"You can’t move up a little?" That hopeful expression gives him a misleadingly boyish look.
"No."
He rolls his eyes. "Is no all you can say?"
"No." She smirks at him. "I need room to work, sorry." She pulls a vibrator out of the box.
"You’re not gonna use that thing on me, are you?"
"Well, not yet, but look, it’s nice and small." And powerful, but she doesn’t mention that.
She switches it on and, with Jared’s eyes on her, pushes it up into herself. It goes easily. She’s been wet since she got dressed tonight. She shifts a little, and jerks when it hits the perfect spot.
"God, you’re drenched. You’re dripping onto me, Jenny."
"Oh! Uh, sorry about that." She kneels up, and he arches to follow her.
"No, it’s good. I like that you’re so wet. I like slipping my fingers into it. I like tasting it."
Her thigh muscles give, and the vibrator nudges up against her in the most amazing way. "God, you do like to talk, don’t you?" She’s finding, though, that even with all her senses intact, she doesn’t mind it.
"Yeah, I do."
"I don’t."
"No, really? Shocking." He smiles at her expression. "Well, I’ve had time to learn a little about your style, is all. I have that advantage over you." It is an advantage. She hasn’t considered before now that he understands her, in some ways, better than she understands him. That’s never happened to her before, and she finds it both disturbing and arousing (a combination she’s discovering works especially well for her); she tightens her inner muscles around the vibrator and quivers. "Anyway," he continues, "you don’t talk much, but you like when I make you talk."
Does she?
Her incredulity registers, and he smiles. "I ask you questions, what you like, more or less, ask you what it feels like. You seem to enjoy answering."
That doesn’t sound like her at all. She’ll unpack the idea later, examine it from all angles, but the vibrator shifts again and sensation ripples through her; she’s got other things to concentrate on right now. Silently, she flexes again, releases, flex and release, until every muscle’s involved, she feels it in her throat, clenching her toes, prickling over her scalp. And it vaporizes her, seizing hard, holding on, and on. She hangs there, clutching at Jared’s hipbones to ground herself, and when she can’t tell the difference any more between that bliss and overloaded discomfort -- or if there is a difference -- she fumbles the vibrator out.
Jared’s watching avidly, the line of her relaxing spine, the sloppy, soaked piece of battery-operated silicone. "Goddamn, Jenny."
"Yeah," she agrees, and they regard each other until she straightens. "All right," she says. "Your turn."
:::
They all head up to his office, because it turns out there’s stuff that needs straightening out.
"Dude, is she high?" Chad whispers. His eyes keep straying to Jenny, who’s sprawled back out in the wingback chair. Jared’s told her to put on her dress, and she has, kind of, pulling it over her head but not bothering to lace up the sides, meticulously, thoroughly loosened by Jared a couple of hours ago. So the important bits are covered, but somehow, half-dressed, she looks twice as naked as she did when she was naked.
"Of course not," Jared says. "That would be illegal," he says. "She absolutely is not."
"Ahhh," says Chad.
"I’m not," says Jenny. "This is a drug-free workplace, Chad. If I get high, Jared has to fire me. I don’t want to be fired."
Chad squints at Jenny. "Your hearing is mighty good, my friend."
"Thanks," she says absently, examining her bruised hip through the gap in her dress. Chad’s examining her hip, too.
Jared scrubs at his forehead. "Come here, Jenny, let’s lace you up."
She rises from the chair obediently and comes to stand before him. They all study Jared’s fingers as he threads the ribbons back into their grommets, tightens them, and ties them at her waist. As he tightens the second bow, Jenny touches her fingers to his. He looks up at her, and she smiles. "I like when you dress me," she says.
Chad clears his throat. "Yeah, it’s pretty hot, I’ll agree with that."
Jared glares at Chad, then bends over to retrieve Jenny’s panties from the floor. "Here," he says, "put these on."
They watch Jenny placidly pulling the scrap of lace up over her hips. "No need to go to any extra trouble on my account."
"Chad," says Jared, warningly. "I am about six seconds from punching you in the face."
He leans back in his chair with a smirk. "I’m glad you warned me, bro. I’d never have guessed otherwise."
Jared grits his teeth. "Look, you’re going to leave as soon as you promise me, under threat of a slow and painful death, that you will never breathe a word of this to anyone."
"You got it," Chad says readily, still smirking.
"I mean it, Chad."
"Oh, I know you do. And you don’t have to threaten me, dude." Chad spreads his hands wide. "I’m your wingman, remember? I got your back here."
Jared watches Chad narrowly for a minute, then nods. "Okay."
"Okay."
"Oh," says Jenny. "You’re leaving? I thought we were going out. Or that you were going to fuck me."
"Jenny --"
Chad’s all glassy-eyed again. "Well, if you insist, I guess I could do that."
"Well, Jared was saying he wanted to --"
"Chad, it’s time for you to get the hell out of here. Now."
"You’re such a fucking buzzkill, Jared," Chad says, but he stands, and walks around the desk to smack Jared upside the head. "You’re not really taking her out like this, are you?"
"No."
"Good." Chad peers at Jenny over his head. "You make him take care of you, okay?"
"He always does," says Jenny cheerfully, and Jared feels a little sick.
:::
"Look," he says, then stops. It’s the first time all night she’s seen Jared uneasy, and her first indication that they both understand she’s the one in charge here. The first time she understands the appeal of his side of the equation on a visceral level rather than an intellectual one. Something hot and nasty surges in her. She could get used to this very quickly.
That idea makes her generous. "I won’t do anything you don’t want," she says, feeling like a skeevy boyfriend on prom night, but pressing on. "Let’s give it a shot before you say a flat no."
His arms and legs pull the cords taut, but he doesn’t object when she shifts to kneel between his spread legs. "Go easy on me," he says, and there’s a smile on his face, but she can tell he’s only half-joking.
She thinks about waking up on mornings after, distinct fingerprint-shaped bruises gripping her hips, bite marks on her shoulders and breasts. "What, the way you’ve always gone easy on me?" she asks, and this time, he does look slightly embarrassed.
"Jared," she says, and stops, trying to articulate. It’s never the easiest of tasks, especially now, it seems, when they’re both naked on her bed. "There’s no point in not saying straight out that I don’t get off on it, as furious as the idea makes me. You may not enjoy having me in control, making you try this, and I’m good with that. You don’t like it, you never have to do it again, and I won’t be sorry." She kneels up over him and slowly lowers her weight over his, her legs closed between his open ones. "But I’m not you. I do like it." She hopes she doesn’t have to make herself any clearer than this.
She’d masturbate in front of him twenty times in a row without stopping if it meant she didn’t ever have to be any more explicit than this. She’s not sure she’d ever actually be able to say it right out. Not even tonight, not even now that she’s stepped so far outside her comfort zone she may never find her way back in. She can’t ask.
Jared’s stares intently up at her, until she shifts uncomfortably on top of him. Finally, he nods. "I hear you."
"Jared --"
"I hear you, Jenny."
"Okay." And now that she’s (sort of) said what she needed to say, maybe they can move on. Jared’s skin is hot, a little slippery with sweat, and there’s so overwhelmingly much of it. She wriggles again, relishing the slide of muscle under all that skin, the slip of his still-hard cock under her thigh, and raises herself again. The cooler night air rushes to fill the space between them, and she can feel her nipples tighten.
Jared’s watching her. "You know what I love about you?" he asks. "I love that your skin’s so sensitive, especially after you come. I love that I can run a hand up your spine, or across the hairs on your arm, and that’s all I have to do to make you shiver."
"Oversensitive," she says.
He shakes his head. "No such thing," he says. "Maybe I’ll show you one day."
"Hmmm," she says, and fishes in her box for the lube.
It’s small enough that it slips in easily. She watches his face as it glides in. He’s turned fully inward right now, something she only sees when he’s deep in a new project, when it’s at its shiniest. At the office, his hyperfocus is only magnetic. Here, it’s addictive. She slides it out a half inch, twists, and his whole body jerks, eyes blind.
She leans forward. "I’m leaving it in. Don’t you dare push it out." She doesn’t think he’s going to try, though. She’s not sure the thought’s occurred to him. She’s not sure he’s even hearing her right now.
It’s tempting, to let it wind him up until he breaks, no other stimulation, nothing else to blame the breakage on. But she wants in on this; she has no guarantees that she’ll ever spend another night with him, and she wants at least one that she can actually remember.
Rolling the condom on has him hissing, and when she sinks down on him, he’s back in the room. "Jenny," he says. "Jen. Come here."
He kisses like he does absolutely everything else, concentrated and headlong. He tastes like something she shouldn’t want but does anyway. She can’t tell if she remembers his kisses or not.
:::
After Jared locks the door behind Chad, he climbs the stairs reluctantly. He doesn’t want to face this cheerfully unihibited Jenny. Suddenly, fiercely, he wants the Jenny he sits fifteen feet away from every day from eight to five, blushing and kindly and remote.
That Jenny isn’t in his office. When he opens the door, the other Jenny’s still standing next to his desk, as if she has no volition of her own. Wherever and in whatever position he decides to put her in, she’ll stay there, bending to his will without the slightest hint of rebellion.
She smiles at him. "I’d have fucked him. I don’t mind." She wets her lips. "I’d like it better if you watched, though."
"I don’t want you to fuck Chad," he says irritably, and this is true, but he doesn’t understand why that is. An hour ago, he was getting them both off on the idea. And it’s not the idea of it being Chad that’s got him balking. It’s more that at some point tonight, maybe standing there in the office stairwell, everything changed. He can’t tell what everything changed into, though.
"Well, that’s fine," she says equably. " I don’t have to if you don’t want it." She toys with the ties at her waist. "Are you going to fuck me again?"
He studies her. One word from him, and she’d strip the panties back off, back up against the wall, wrap her legs around his waist as he slid into her. Accommodating, as always. "No," he says. "I’ll drive you home."
It’s not until he has to ask her for directions that he realizes: he’s never driven her before.
:::
She’s not moving much, a slow grind, a minimum of friction. It’s building in both of them. Jared, clearly not content with a gradual build, keeps trying to pick up the pace, but his range of motion is limited, and Jenny doesn’t feel like cooperating. She continues at her own pace: steady and thorough, and thoroughly contrarian.
Jared looks like he’s about to explode from sheer frustration. She likes it. He’ll never beg, but it’s almost as much a turn-on to watch him trying not to beg as it is to feel him moving inside her.
She does pick up the pace when his muscles begin spasming involuntarily. Her hands stroke over the sharpness of his hipbones, another addiction in the making, and up her thighs. She pushes an index finger into her own wetness.
Jared lifts his head to catch a better angle, and licks his lips. "Am I allowed to make a request?"
She tilts her head to one side, then gasps as her finger finds its mark. "Sure, as long as you understand I’m not -- oh -- obligated to fulfil it."
"Open yourself up. I want to see you."
Jenny resists the urge to curl up, to climb off. After a moment, she has her nerve sufficiently in hand to sit back. She spreads her thighs more, and spreads herself open. She’s so slippery, her fingers struggle to find a hold.
"Yeah, like that," he says. "Perfect."
It doesn’t take long, after that, her fingers, Jared’s cock, his eyes on her. Jared comes first, with a long, dramatic groan, taut and thrumming after being on edge for so long, and she reaches back to pull the vibrator out, strokes herself quickly to a finish with Jared softening in her, longer but not as intense as her previous orgasm. She pulls off and strips the condom off him, ties it off, all with him watching her.
"You realize that you never took your glasses off, right?" he asks before the silence can get awkward.
She touches her fingers to her face and bites her lip. Naked except for the glasses. Embarrassing, but as far as overlooked details go, at least it’s harmless. "I didn’t realize, no. I forget them a lot." They’re such an extension of her face she doesn’t even think about them most of the time. She considers taking them off, but it seems a little late in the game to worry about looking ridiculous. Might as well leave them on, at this point.
Jared’s smiling at her. "The glasses have always been the first things to go, before," he says. "I like you like this, though."
Jenny makes a face. "What, dorky?"
"Well, yeah. Also flustered. Also pissed off. It’s a new look for you. You’re usually kind of hard to read."
"I’ve been told."
They look at each other silently. "What are you thinking right now? I can hardly ever tell."
Where to start? Her mind’s been churning all night. She’s got a million things she wants to say. All her life, she’s wanted people to ask her that question, and she always thought that if someone ever did ask her, it’d be like a door unlocking inside her, she’d explode with the all the words and thoughts and ideas she’s kept locked up. It’s not working that way, though. She’s as uncomfortable as ever.
She shrugs. "You don’t want to know."
Jared frowns. "No, I think I really do," he says. "It never used to bother me, but for a while now..." She waits for him to finish his sentence, but he never does, and she climbs down off the bed and retrieves her dress from the floor, shrugs it back on.
"Okay," she says. "You want to know what I’m thinking?"
"Hit me," he says. "Uh, not literally."
"Not even if you deserve it?" She sighs. "After tonight, we both deserve smacking, I guess. Anyway, what I’m thinking is that it’s time to untie you. Then maybe we can talk like grownups, for once."
He raises his eyebrows. "You sure you’re up for that?"
She snorts. "Nope. You?"
"Nope."
It’s a scary moment. Jenny takes a deep breath and reaches for his right wrist.