!!!-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... )
“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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The pounding of his heart behind his ribs, the rush of blood in his ears; all seems to whisper Ja-red, Ja-red with every beat, and he can’t fucking take it.
He’s standing by the window before he even registers the movement; hands scrabbling at the frame where it’s painted over, heaves and shoves ‘till it shoots open and the rush of fresh, night air hits him; smell of warm asphalt and freedom. He’s never climbed out of his window before, but the old tree outside makes it almost stupidly easy - Chris may have had a point about the learning thing - and he’s on the ground in just a few minutes.
He can hear the television through the wall of the family room where his parents are sitting, and he hopes it’s enough to cover the noise of him unlatching the gate and running out of the yard.
He makes across the street to Jared’s house in what feels like a single rushed step; body almost flush with the door as he rings the bell over and over; sounds of barking and paws scrabbling on a wooden floor.
“Just a second!” Shouted from inside the house, somewhere above as footfalls hammer downstairs. “C’mon guys, get back. Out of the way.” Another burst of wet heat down his spine that ends below his tailbone just from Jared’s voice; booming and full of command; instinctual beta impulse to submit to an alpha; to his alpha.
Then the door gets flung open, golden light from the hallway bracketing Jared; shining through his hair and throwing him into shadow and silhouette. He looks like fire and raw strength and everything Jensen wants for the rest of his fucking life.
“Jensen? It’s the middle of the night, man.” Looking at the watch on his wrist like the darkness outside isn’t proof of that. Something must be showing on Jensen’s face - or maybe it’s the way he’s tenting out his sweatpants - ’cos Jared steps out of the house and onto the front step a little.
“What’s wrong? You look-” He stops suddenly as his breath judders in through his nose, fumbles backwards toward the open door; one hand suddenly white knuckling the frame. “Jesus, Jensen, you can’t be here right now.” Voice dropping four octaves in one sentence, left knee twitching and bending like he can’t make it lock in place.
“Jared.” It’s his voice, but not like he’s ever heard it sound before; like he’s been gargling with battery acid; mouth watering smell of alpha drifting to him from what he suddenly realises is a barely existent space between them.
Barely existent, but still too much.
He takes a step forward, and Jared seems to move toward and away from him at the same time; stumbling a little as he tries to avoid tripping over the lip of the door.
“Jensen.” Throat working as he coughs and swallows visibly. “You have to go home, okay. I can’t. You can’t be here.” Jared shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it, hair spilling over his forehead, jaw working and fuck he’s so damn big.
“What if I don’t wanna leave.” Another way he’s never heard himself sound, odd lilt to the words. “What if I’m exactly where I need to be?” Standing practically chest-to-chest with the alpha now, Hand reaching out - only trembling a little, pretty impressive feat he thinks - palm flat and running up Jared’s stomach, past the kettle drum pounding thump-thump in his chest, stops between the muscles underneath his collarbones.
Then suddenly there’s the feeling of cold wall against his back, as Jared spins him ninety-degrees and pins him to the house, looming over him with heat in his eyes and sweat beading at his temples.
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Haha, I'm trying to post sections that are reasonably self-contained, so the word limit doesn't cut me off mid-sentence.
The suspense is just a bonus =P
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why are you so mean as to stop at a cliffhanger, were they are about to getting sexing. Noooooooooo!!!
have i told you i love your fill...
can't wait for more.
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Next part'll be up soon, I may do several at once so the actual sex is included, don't wanna cause an uprising =P
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Dear queerly_it_is; this is FABULOUS.
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