Silly ficletting
I have some comments on my big bang! Lovely comments, from lovely people! I was *extremely* scared I wouldn't get any at all, so I am very, very pleased. Slightly worried about what I did to fandom's moral compass, because really, hitmen shouldn't be endearing, but eh, you don't come to me to read Jensen as a horrible guy who gets his comeuppance y/n? (PSA: do not date a hitman. I don't think it would go well. Even if he looks like Jensen.)
So I wandered over to the kinkmeme in a good mood and I got a bunny! I haven't written that fast in months. It's just a little thing, which I posted anon, but a) obvious typo and I left an open italic tag in the last part which UGH, and b) this fic is really for anyone who has ever commented on my J2 stuff because apparently you're the fuel I need to write, so THANK YOU, have a fic just for you. And you. And you as well.
Uh. It's incredibly unsexy porn, and covers one of my only real squicks (daddy kink), but you shouldn't read it if you actually want to read daddy kink. The prompt was (briefly), very shy Jared hasn't met Jensen's parents till they come home unexpectedly and find the pair in the middle of having some kind of kinky sex involving probably outfits, author's choice. Everyone is embarrassed, especially Jared, but no one is horrible about it. And obviously I went daddy kink with that. Because what could possibly make that scenario more awkward?
You're *welcome*!
Title Happy Returns
Rating NC17 briefly
Pairing Jared/Jensen
Words 1850
Warnings crossdressing, Daddy!kink subverted, lots of embarrassment, joking but definite mention of suicidal thoughts, shyness, so much schmoop
“You gonna come for Daddy?” Jensen pants it out, because really, he’s not much behind Jared, and just one more deep clench is most probably going to tip him right over. But he wants to give Jared the words. It took long enough for Jared to confess to wanting this, and only slightly less time for Jensen to work through convincing himself he could give his lover what he wanted. Jensen’s never been super-into daddy kink, no matter how much he’s into Jared.
Especially here.
(What? It’s hard to find a place to fuck in private when your boyfriend’s still a student halfway across the country, and you’re sharing an apartment with the loudest, least privacy-inclined guy in the world. House sitting for your parents and having your beloved come visit seems like a golden opportunity. So long as… Well. So long as your beloved, so-sweet, so-shy boyfriend doesn’t choose that month to finally, finally confess he’d really like you to have him dress up as a Catholic schoolgirl and sit on your knee and call you Daddy while you fuck him. Which you do, because you love him, and you’ve told him some pretty dark shit over the past year’s mostly-distance dating, and he’s never been anything other than supportive. Or, sometimes, enthused.)
Jensen avoids the gaze of his dad’s portrait on the mantel. Really shoulda turned that framed photo away before they started this. But remembering how squicked he was at the start at least lets him get ahold of his runaway dick and be sure he can see Jared through this before his control breaks.
“So wet,” he pants into Jared’s ear, “So wet for me, baby, so wet for Daddy-“
It’s possible that it’s Jared’s loud moaning that causes Jensen to mistake the sound of a key in the lock for a creak from the couch. It’s definitely their combined vocalising that means it takes him a few critical seconds to realise that there are other voices. That Jared’s not the only one calling “Jensen”. That the other voices are a little more questioning, though no less familiar.
After that, things happen really quickly and out of sequence. The living room door opens wide. Jared moans, “Coming so hard for you, Daddy,” and spunks up the front of his dishevelled-yet-cute little kilt. Jensen locks eyes with his father. Not in a photo this time. His mother says, “We’re a little early- Oh!”
Jensen says, “Fuck.” He’s pretty sure that’s the last part in the sequence.
There follows a silence. It can’t possibly last more than a few seconds, but it feels eternal.
Of course, he’s pretty covered up in all of this. Sure, his parents can’t exactly mistake what’s going on, and Jensen’s hand is wrapped around Jared’s rapidly-shrinking dick, come-smeared and incriminating. But at least he’s not fully on display, knees apart, dick and balls showing in the widespread split of the kilt, evidently speared on Jensen’s dick, the remains of a white lacy blouse all open across his chest, and nowhere to hide his face. That would be Jared’s position.
Jensen says, “Uh, you guys, this is Jared-“ at exactly the same time as his parents say simultaneously, “Surprisewe’realittleearlyleaveyoutogetuhyes” and also “Nicetomeetyouwe’lljustbeinthekitchen” and slam the door hard enough that a framed sampler sewn by Jensen’s Great Aunt Sukey falls off the hook beside the doorframe and shatters glass all over the floor.
Jared doesn’t say anything. Jensen can feel him perfectly still. Congealed. “Jay?” Jensen brushes his nose behind Jared’s ear. “You okay?”
Jared takes a breath, which at this point feels like progress. He very slowly and precisely unhooks his thighs from over Jensen’s, braces himself, and lifts off Jensen’s dick. (Also rapidly-shrinking, and he didn’t get to come, so the condom looks really sad as it wrinkles up, but what the fuck, that is not in Jensen’s top ten issues just now.) Jared says, “I have to go.” He looks very small, for such a big guy.
By the time Jensen registers what Jared said, Jared’s already out of the room. It’s a huge relief when Jensen hears the door of the downstairs half-bath bang closed and locked. The way Jared looked, Jensen kind of expected he might walk right out of Casa Ackles and into the drifting snow. But, good. That means this is salvageable, and in ways that won’t involve Jensen running naked into a snowdrift. Though he absolutely would, for Jared.
He peels off the pointless condom, and pulls on jeans and a shirt. Kitchen. His parents said kitchen. That’s probably the next move. He knocks on the bathroom door in passing. “Jay? I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re-“ Ready. Better. De-traumatised. Jared makes a sound which doesn’t sound like a good sound. But Jensen can’t have this conversation through a door, and also, he has bridges to mend with his folks, so-
In the kitchen, his mother already has coffee brewing and defrosting her homemade soup on the stove, and it’s like every winter holiday return he’s ever seen with them, apart from… well, yeah. That. And if he thinks about that, he’ll-
“So, you guys are early,” he says, sounding to himself like the most plastic person in creation. Auto-smalltalk-bot-Jensen. “I hope that doesn’t mean you had a bad-“
“It’ll be nice to meet Jared,” says his father, cutting right across the bullshit. “You going to hide him in the bathroom forever?”
“Be nice, sweetie,” says Jensen’s mom, shaking her head. “He’s going to want a little time to-“ Mercifully, she leaves that one hanging. “And Jensen always said Jared was shy, so it’s an ordeal meeting the parents.” She doesn’t say - nobody does - especially meeting this way, but anyone not thinking it would be the most freakish human alive. “Jensen, does Jared have clothes in there? Because-“ She doesn’t finish that one either. Jared’s probably trying to strangle himself with the spare stash of floss, and not planning on showing his face (or other things) in his messed up schoolgirl outfit anytime soon.
“I’ll just-“ Jensen hastily stands up, and makes for the kitchen door. He really should have thought of that earlier.
“You do that,” says his mom, speaking loud and clear for the ears of anyone hiding in a bathroom down the hall. “And there’s soup for everyone, if you didn’t eat already? Just come on in when you’re ready.”
Jensen hurries upstairs, fetches Jared sweats, tee, hoodie, socks, as much covering as he can possibly find, and practically sprints back down the stairs to hover outside the bathroom. “Jay? Jay, I got your stuff here. You wanna open the door? It’s gotta be cold in there.”
Jared makes a small, miserable noise, but after a moment the latch shifts, and the door cracks open. Jensen surprises himself by bodily shouldering Jared aside (something that in the real world he would never be able to do - Jared may be shy, but he’s built like a linebacker, for reasons not unconnected to college football). Jensen doesn’t want to be hiding outside a door. He wants to be with Jared.
Who still looks incredibly miserable, like the floss-noose was an actual option. He’s damp all over, obviously scrubbed every last atom of sex off himself with his bare hands. But at least he’s moving, and talking. “Jensen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-“
“Nobody knew,” Jensen says, hands busy in the too-small space, getting Jared piecemeal out of his wrecked skirt and blouse and into as much soft cotton as is available. “You don’t have to apologise. We all apologise or nobody does, and I think it’s gonna be nobody, babe. It’s okay.”
“I just- How can I go out there? I couldn’t even meet them before,” because this isn’t the first time Jensen asked Jared whether he could make it to the house, and even this time Jared was planning to be gone before Jensen’s parents arrived. (“I’m just not ready,” was all he’d said, but it was okay. Jensen already knew Jared needed to work up to this stuff, and he’d been confident they had time. Now…)
He has to fix this. “They’re not gonna be awful, Jay. They wanted to meet you, and now they want to know you’re okay. And also to meet you, because the worst is over. It really has to be.”
Jared has his hands over his face, hood pulled up, hiding as much as possible even from Jensen, but that produces just a tiny, tiny snort of laughter. And Jensen starts to breathe again. “Come on,” he said. “We’re gonna face them together. And they’ll love you. Cuz I do.” He kicks the ruined schoolgirl gear discreetly behind the vanity unit (and he will remember to find it and burn it later, because though he would never, ever suggest Jared give up on his deep fantasies, he’s pretty sure this particular outfit is done forever). Picks up Jared’s hand and tows him into the hallway.
He can smell soup. Tasty soup. And something else- “Is that chocolate?” Jared asks, and it’s a proper sound, loud enough to carry into the kitchen.
“Yes,” Jensen’s father is saying, even as they enter. “Your mother has gone into Guest Hostess Mode. She already found the frozen cookie dough, now she’s in the pantry looking for canned peaches, I think.” It‘s perfect. The most normal words in the world, and food. Jared-bait. He starts to look a little less frozen up.
“Thanks D-“ says Jensen, and wavered for just a nanosecond. But, nope. Not gonna avoid the word forever, realistically, so this is the moment, “Thanks D- dad. This is Jared.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” says his dad, solemnly, holding out a hand to shake. “We kind of thought you were a figment, but apparently not so much. And even if you were a figment, you made Jensen a happy man these past months, so-“
Jared is shaking hands, kind of numbly, and Jensen is getting out bowls and cutlery when his mother returns to the kitchen, brandishing a huge jar of peaches and some frozen bread. “There! I knew I had them. Jackie’s finest, I saved them for a special occasion. We’ll have peach pie tomorrow.” She pauses to put down her burdens, and hugs Jared. “It’s so good to meet you, sweetheart.”
Jared’s eyes meet Jensen’s over his mom’s shoulder. He’s looking a little confused, but a whole lot less like death. Jensen smiles, wide and happy, because, really, he wanted Jared here, to meet these guys.
He catches his father’s eye again. Very, very fleetingly, his dad winks, before he walks over to take the soup off the heat.
It’s going to be okay. Really.
Which is when Jensen remembers that he didn’t get to come, earlier, and now they have people to overhear them, and Jared’s probably never, ever going to fuck in earshot of Jensen’s parents again, even if they’re together till they’re eighty.
But, you know, soup and cookies and family. Could be worse.
So I wandered over to the kinkmeme in a good mood and I got a bunny! I haven't written that fast in months. It's just a little thing, which I posted anon, but a) obvious typo and I left an open italic tag in the last part which UGH, and b) this fic is really for anyone who has ever commented on my J2 stuff because apparently you're the fuel I need to write, so THANK YOU, have a fic just for you. And you. And you as well.
Uh. It's incredibly unsexy porn, and covers one of my only real squicks (daddy kink), but you shouldn't read it if you actually want to read daddy kink. The prompt was (briefly), very shy Jared hasn't met Jensen's parents till they come home unexpectedly and find the pair in the middle of having some kind of kinky sex involving probably outfits, author's choice. Everyone is embarrassed, especially Jared, but no one is horrible about it. And obviously I went daddy kink with that. Because what could possibly make that scenario more awkward?
You're *welcome*!
Title Happy Returns
Rating NC17 briefly
Pairing Jared/Jensen
Words 1850
Warnings crossdressing, Daddy!kink subverted, lots of embarrassment, joking but definite mention of suicidal thoughts, shyness, so much schmoop
“You gonna come for Daddy?” Jensen pants it out, because really, he’s not much behind Jared, and just one more deep clench is most probably going to tip him right over. But he wants to give Jared the words. It took long enough for Jared to confess to wanting this, and only slightly less time for Jensen to work through convincing himself he could give his lover what he wanted. Jensen’s never been super-into daddy kink, no matter how much he’s into Jared.
Especially here.
(What? It’s hard to find a place to fuck in private when your boyfriend’s still a student halfway across the country, and you’re sharing an apartment with the loudest, least privacy-inclined guy in the world. House sitting for your parents and having your beloved come visit seems like a golden opportunity. So long as… Well. So long as your beloved, so-sweet, so-shy boyfriend doesn’t choose that month to finally, finally confess he’d really like you to have him dress up as a Catholic schoolgirl and sit on your knee and call you Daddy while you fuck him. Which you do, because you love him, and you’ve told him some pretty dark shit over the past year’s mostly-distance dating, and he’s never been anything other than supportive. Or, sometimes, enthused.)
Jensen avoids the gaze of his dad’s portrait on the mantel. Really shoulda turned that framed photo away before they started this. But remembering how squicked he was at the start at least lets him get ahold of his runaway dick and be sure he can see Jared through this before his control breaks.
“So wet,” he pants into Jared’s ear, “So wet for me, baby, so wet for Daddy-“
It’s possible that it’s Jared’s loud moaning that causes Jensen to mistake the sound of a key in the lock for a creak from the couch. It’s definitely their combined vocalising that means it takes him a few critical seconds to realise that there are other voices. That Jared’s not the only one calling “Jensen”. That the other voices are a little more questioning, though no less familiar.
After that, things happen really quickly and out of sequence. The living room door opens wide. Jared moans, “Coming so hard for you, Daddy,” and spunks up the front of his dishevelled-yet-cute little kilt. Jensen locks eyes with his father. Not in a photo this time. His mother says, “We’re a little early- Oh!”
Jensen says, “Fuck.” He’s pretty sure that’s the last part in the sequence.
There follows a silence. It can’t possibly last more than a few seconds, but it feels eternal.
Of course, he’s pretty covered up in all of this. Sure, his parents can’t exactly mistake what’s going on, and Jensen’s hand is wrapped around Jared’s rapidly-shrinking dick, come-smeared and incriminating. But at least he’s not fully on display, knees apart, dick and balls showing in the widespread split of the kilt, evidently speared on Jensen’s dick, the remains of a white lacy blouse all open across his chest, and nowhere to hide his face. That would be Jared’s position.
Jensen says, “Uh, you guys, this is Jared-“ at exactly the same time as his parents say simultaneously, “Surprisewe’realittleearlyleaveyoutogetuhyes” and also “Nicetomeetyouwe’lljustbeinthekitchen” and slam the door hard enough that a framed sampler sewn by Jensen’s Great Aunt Sukey falls off the hook beside the doorframe and shatters glass all over the floor.
Jared doesn’t say anything. Jensen can feel him perfectly still. Congealed. “Jay?” Jensen brushes his nose behind Jared’s ear. “You okay?”
Jared takes a breath, which at this point feels like progress. He very slowly and precisely unhooks his thighs from over Jensen’s, braces himself, and lifts off Jensen’s dick. (Also rapidly-shrinking, and he didn’t get to come, so the condom looks really sad as it wrinkles up, but what the fuck, that is not in Jensen’s top ten issues just now.) Jared says, “I have to go.” He looks very small, for such a big guy.
By the time Jensen registers what Jared said, Jared’s already out of the room. It’s a huge relief when Jensen hears the door of the downstairs half-bath bang closed and locked. The way Jared looked, Jensen kind of expected he might walk right out of Casa Ackles and into the drifting snow. But, good. That means this is salvageable, and in ways that won’t involve Jensen running naked into a snowdrift. Though he absolutely would, for Jared.
He peels off the pointless condom, and pulls on jeans and a shirt. Kitchen. His parents said kitchen. That’s probably the next move. He knocks on the bathroom door in passing. “Jay? I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re-“ Ready. Better. De-traumatised. Jared makes a sound which doesn’t sound like a good sound. But Jensen can’t have this conversation through a door, and also, he has bridges to mend with his folks, so-
In the kitchen, his mother already has coffee brewing and defrosting her homemade soup on the stove, and it’s like every winter holiday return he’s ever seen with them, apart from… well, yeah. That. And if he thinks about that, he’ll-
“So, you guys are early,” he says, sounding to himself like the most plastic person in creation. Auto-smalltalk-bot-Jensen. “I hope that doesn’t mean you had a bad-“
“It’ll be nice to meet Jared,” says his father, cutting right across the bullshit. “You going to hide him in the bathroom forever?”
“Be nice, sweetie,” says Jensen’s mom, shaking her head. “He’s going to want a little time to-“ Mercifully, she leaves that one hanging. “And Jensen always said Jared was shy, so it’s an ordeal meeting the parents.” She doesn’t say - nobody does - especially meeting this way, but anyone not thinking it would be the most freakish human alive. “Jensen, does Jared have clothes in there? Because-“ She doesn’t finish that one either. Jared’s probably trying to strangle himself with the spare stash of floss, and not planning on showing his face (or other things) in his messed up schoolgirl outfit anytime soon.
“I’ll just-“ Jensen hastily stands up, and makes for the kitchen door. He really should have thought of that earlier.
“You do that,” says his mom, speaking loud and clear for the ears of anyone hiding in a bathroom down the hall. “And there’s soup for everyone, if you didn’t eat already? Just come on in when you’re ready.”
Jensen hurries upstairs, fetches Jared sweats, tee, hoodie, socks, as much covering as he can possibly find, and practically sprints back down the stairs to hover outside the bathroom. “Jay? Jay, I got your stuff here. You wanna open the door? It’s gotta be cold in there.”
Jared makes a small, miserable noise, but after a moment the latch shifts, and the door cracks open. Jensen surprises himself by bodily shouldering Jared aside (something that in the real world he would never be able to do - Jared may be shy, but he’s built like a linebacker, for reasons not unconnected to college football). Jensen doesn’t want to be hiding outside a door. He wants to be with Jared.
Who still looks incredibly miserable, like the floss-noose was an actual option. He’s damp all over, obviously scrubbed every last atom of sex off himself with his bare hands. But at least he’s moving, and talking. “Jensen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-“
“Nobody knew,” Jensen says, hands busy in the too-small space, getting Jared piecemeal out of his wrecked skirt and blouse and into as much soft cotton as is available. “You don’t have to apologise. We all apologise or nobody does, and I think it’s gonna be nobody, babe. It’s okay.”
“I just- How can I go out there? I couldn’t even meet them before,” because this isn’t the first time Jensen asked Jared whether he could make it to the house, and even this time Jared was planning to be gone before Jensen’s parents arrived. (“I’m just not ready,” was all he’d said, but it was okay. Jensen already knew Jared needed to work up to this stuff, and he’d been confident they had time. Now…)
He has to fix this. “They’re not gonna be awful, Jay. They wanted to meet you, and now they want to know you’re okay. And also to meet you, because the worst is over. It really has to be.”
Jared has his hands over his face, hood pulled up, hiding as much as possible even from Jensen, but that produces just a tiny, tiny snort of laughter. And Jensen starts to breathe again. “Come on,” he said. “We’re gonna face them together. And they’ll love you. Cuz I do.” He kicks the ruined schoolgirl gear discreetly behind the vanity unit (and he will remember to find it and burn it later, because though he would never, ever suggest Jared give up on his deep fantasies, he’s pretty sure this particular outfit is done forever). Picks up Jared’s hand and tows him into the hallway.
He can smell soup. Tasty soup. And something else- “Is that chocolate?” Jared asks, and it’s a proper sound, loud enough to carry into the kitchen.
“Yes,” Jensen’s father is saying, even as they enter. “Your mother has gone into Guest Hostess Mode. She already found the frozen cookie dough, now she’s in the pantry looking for canned peaches, I think.” It‘s perfect. The most normal words in the world, and food. Jared-bait. He starts to look a little less frozen up.
“Thanks D-“ says Jensen, and wavered for just a nanosecond. But, nope. Not gonna avoid the word forever, realistically, so this is the moment, “Thanks D- dad. This is Jared.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” says his dad, solemnly, holding out a hand to shake. “We kind of thought you were a figment, but apparently not so much. And even if you were a figment, you made Jensen a happy man these past months, so-“
Jared is shaking hands, kind of numbly, and Jensen is getting out bowls and cutlery when his mother returns to the kitchen, brandishing a huge jar of peaches and some frozen bread. “There! I knew I had them. Jackie’s finest, I saved them for a special occasion. We’ll have peach pie tomorrow.” She pauses to put down her burdens, and hugs Jared. “It’s so good to meet you, sweetheart.”
Jared’s eyes meet Jensen’s over his mom’s shoulder. He’s looking a little confused, but a whole lot less like death. Jensen smiles, wide and happy, because, really, he wanted Jared here, to meet these guys.
He catches his father’s eye again. Very, very fleetingly, his dad winks, before he walks over to take the soup off the heat.
It’s going to be okay. Really.
Which is when Jensen remembers that he didn’t get to come, earlier, and now they have people to overhear them, and Jared’s probably never, ever going to fuck in earshot of Jensen’s parents again, even if they’re together till they’re eighty.
But, you know, soup and cookies and family. Could be worse.