!!!-CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS-!!! UNDERAGE Prompting Post // May 1st - May 15th
This is a post for any and all UNDERAGE PROMPTS. That means all prompts with pairings where one or both is under the age of 18.
A few reminders:
1. Use your subject lines! Please start with either REQUEST or FILLED also please list the pairing and kinks.
2. Please come up with a title for your fic.
3. NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES! Use space, ( Read more... )
A few reminders:
1. Use your subject lines! Please start with either REQUEST or FILLED also please list the pairing and kinks.
2. Please come up with a title for your fic.
3. NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES! Use space, ( Read more... )
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The first time Jensen finds out he's a beta; he’s thirteen, and Mr Padalecki - "call me Jared" - moves in across the street. The sudden rush of wet heat to his stomach and between his legs, along with the pounding of his heart and the hitching of his breath; prompts him to tug on his momma’s pant leg and tell her “Think m‘sick, momma.”
The doctor immediately figures out that Jensen isn’t sick; he’s going into puberty, and that he‘s a beta. His momma hugs him tight in the small exam room that smells of cleanser and old magazines; and mumbles something about grandbabies into his hair.
When he’s fourteen, his papa - looking so uncomfortable he’s actually sweating through his shirt collar - sits Jensen down and tells him about the ‘facts of life’; about alphas and betas and the kinds of things men and women (or men and men, or women and women) can do when they “love each other very much”.
His papa tells him that male betas - “like you, son” - can have children like women can. He explains what ‘heat’ means and how important it is to be careful; that he shouldn’t start thinking about doing stuff like this until he’s old enough and gets married.
Jensen sits perfectly still in their too-quiet living room, perched on the edge of the couch as his papa avoids his eyes; rubs a hand absently over his belly; and thinks of Jared.
For someone so much older than Jensen - he‘s twenty-six, Jensen asked - Jared is surprisingly easy to talk to; he always waves if Jensen does, always smiles - he has a really nice smile - when he sees Jensen on his bike or walking to school. He’s this giant, affectionate guy that doesn’t act anything like the alphas Jensen’s seen on TV, or in the dirty magazine Billy Watkins had shown him behind the cafeteria that one time. He’s just really nice; to everyone; but Jensen sometimes thinks Jared’s smile is maybe a little wider for him than anyone else.
It takes him a while to figure out that he likes Jared probably more than he’s supposed to.
When he’s fifteen; Jensen goes into heat for the first time. It’s almost unbearable; the need for something that he can’t find words for and doesn’t know where to get, feeling of ants crawling on his skin and fire heating up his blood. He spends nearly a week shut away in his room; musky smell of the slick running down his legs almost overpowering. His momma brings him juice and food that he barely eats, while he paces around the room and thrashes in the sheets as he jerks off furiously, despite the chafing on his skin and the lack of relief it provides him.
When it’s finally over, he showers for about an hour and a half, then rides his bike as many times around the neighbourhood as it takes for the cabin fever to go away. He’s sweaty and his legs are burning; but he’s outside and his skin doesn’t feel too tight anymore, when he’s sees Jared and his two giant dogs - that look stupidly average-sized next to him - jogging down the sidewalk.
“Hey Jared!” He all but yells, skidding to a halt, little-kid excitement in full force despite how much he always wants to sound grown up for Jared, like it’ll counteract the height difference or his freckled baby-face.
“Jensen, hey!” That wide, dimpled smile again, stomach flip-flopping and thank God his face is already red from the exercise. Jared looks awesome; hair and tank top both damp where he’s been running, strong legs in black shorts, muscles in his arms flexing as he tugs on the leashes in his big hands.
His heat is over, right?
“Haven’t seen you in a while, buddy.” Jared says as he looks him over, like he’s checking for a cast or something. Jensen tries hard not to fidget under the attention.
“Yeah, I uh. I was. That time a’year, y’know?” Head ducking, freaking stupid way of putting it, but it’s not like he’s gonna tell Jared he was locked in his room leaking like a sieve while he rubbed himself off thinking about him.
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this is just great, i've been waiting for this to be fill and it finally happened.
i can't wait for more.
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Once done, please respond to this post with a full list of kinks and I will update the tag as well as remove the WIP status.
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I've also reposted it here
Kinks: fandom: spn-rps, alpha-beta, angst, animal-traits, barebacking, begging, bottom!jensen, breeding, claiming, coming-untouched, control, dirty-talk, dry-humping, first-time, heat, hurt/comfort, knotting, manhandling, masturbation, mpreg, possessive!jared, protective!jared, schmoop, self-lubrication, size, top!jared, underage, virginity, pairing: jared/jensen
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“Oh. Well, uh. Glad you’re okay.” His voice sounds a little weird, but the smile is back so Jensen can’t really focus on it.
Then suddenly he’s talking about dogs needing water and work he has to do and then he’s gone, while Jensen just kinda stands there and stares at his back - and his ass, and his legs - as he heads into the house, door slamming shut behind him.
Jensen probably needs to jerk off again.
***
Jared could kick himself.
In fact, he should probably just drown himself in the bathtub and get it over with.
He blames his lack of realisation on the way Jensen had been all flushed and panting and grinning ear-to-ear, and fuck even the memory of that image is enough to have him twitching in his shorts; surge of want only made stronger by the slight twinge of guilt that grips his stomach and lies sour under his tongue.
Jensen was in heat.
He groans at the thought, unable to stop himself grinding the heel of his palm into his crotch in an attempt to relieve the pressure. Christ there has to be something wrong with him that he’s this twisted up over a damned kid.
Except Jensen isn’t just a kid. Jensen isn’t just anything. And that’s exactly the problem.
He remembers the week he’d moved here over two years ago; truck still full of boxes and bags and crates; when out of nowhere had come this energetic bundle of green eyes and freckles and lips; who’d stuck his hand out with a grin and said “Hi! I‘m Jensen. I‘m gonna be a beta! the same way kids tell adults what they’re gonna do for a living when they get older. Jared had been torn between laughing, and falling all over himself like he hadn’t done since his last big growth spurt at seventeen.
Jensen’s mother had been quick to apologise; explained that they’d literally just found out he was a beta, and Jensen was a little overexcited and didn’t really understand that people don’t tend to include that information with a first handshake. Jared had just tried to wave it off and ignore the lingering warmth sitting somewhere below his navel.
It’d been downhill from there, really. Seemed like wherever he went Jensen would show up in some form or another; on that green bike that made the colour of his eyes stand out to an almost preternatural degree, or with his friends, or - and this is where the stab of burning arousal and bitter guilt comes back - in his school uniform that made every blood cell in Jared’s body flood somewhere distinctly inappropriate.
Now Jensen is fifteen, and he’s nearly six-feet tall already, he’s gaining muscle and looking more and more like something out of a particularly wet dream, and Jared is finding it harder to remember that Jensen is a beta, not his beta. Jensen isn’t his anything.
He stamps down on the grating disappointment and jerks off in the shower, left hand squeezing his knot.
Jared loves his job, he really does. He likes that working from home means he can keep his own hours, and not have a boss breathing down his neck every day. The only problem is that his desk sits below the big window of his study, which looks down over the street, and he can’t seem to stop himself from putting down his pen and watching Jensen walk to school in the morning, every inch the pathetic mooning creeper he feels when Jensen smiles at him and all Jared can think is mate.
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Glad you're enjoying! ♥
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That doesn’t make the fantasies go away.
He knows there are…things…you can buy online and from the backs of skin mags, things meant to help single betas in heat that don’t wanna slut around to a dangerous extent three times a year; but c’mon; his momma cleans his room - mainly ‘cos he never does, but still - and the thought of her reaction to a knotted dildo hidden under his mattress or in the back of a drawer makes him wanna go find a rock to hide under.
That kind of rational thinking is really hard to remember when he’s in heat, though; pure need making him wanna claw at his skin and run for miles and rut against the sweat-soaked sheets beneath him.
It’d probably help if Jared wasn’t always so damn friendly. He patted Jensen on the back with one of those big paws a’his the other day, all dimples and deep Texas accent; and Jensen had damn near climbed him like a tree; alpha scent of musk and something woodsy filling his nose, like curls of smoke sending heat to his groin.
His stupid body wants to read things into the singularly-focused way Jared sometimes looks at him that just aren’t real. Wants to believe that when Jared’s pupils change and his nostrils flare it’s because of him, and not some instinctive response to a beta approaching heat.
Mother Nature; Jensen decides; is really kind of a bitch.
The weekend after his sixteenth birthday is spent on a camping trip with a few of his friends; and Chris somehow manages to smuggle in a bag of weed that makes Jensen giggle like a pre-teen girl at his friend’s stupid jokes, in between bouts of staring at the stars and the overwhelming urge to eat a whole loaf of white bread. They sit around a rather unsafe-looking campfire and talk about guys and girls and sex; a discussion Jensen never wants to have again while Misha is trying to build an anatomically correct donkey out of sticks right next to him.
“So, Jen.” Chris says for the third time in a row; like the words are a small circle he can’t get out of. “When’re you gonna jump that Jared guy?” Last few words muffled around the joint between his lips; stark line of white ending in a flare of red that bobs as he talks.
“Dude, never. He’s like, nearly half my dad’s age.” trying for outrage to cover the Pavlovian response he has to Jared’s name.
“So? Not like he is your dad.” Words said like that solves the whole thing, stoner logic going full steam.
“My parents would ship me off to military school the second they found out I‘d even looked at him funny. After they had Jared arrested.” The thought of the big kind-hearted alpha being led away in handcuffs by the cops makes him wanna hurl.
“If they found out, Jen, if. You got a lot to learn about sneakin’ around if you ever wanna get laid.” Grey smoke filtering out of his mouth as he talks.
“Dude I’m just a kid to him, he isn’t gonna mate with me when he could get someone his own age, or a girl, or whatever else he wants.” Doing his best not to sound bitter, probably fails.
“Well you ain’t gonna find out if you keep being too much of a pussy to actually try.” Eyes twinkling in the firelight as his friend smirks at him, like being seventeen gives you the answers to every problem in the universe.
Jensen just flips him off and helps Misha build his donkey.
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More?
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Next part is up! ♥
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