Kink Meme fill! \o/ - A Cheerful Initiation
This is my fill from the latest spnkink_meme .
Prompt: Jared/Jensen - blushing!Jensen, first times/kiss, public groping
Jensen is new to the high school, having just moved, and he joins the cheerleading team. The team has never had, or hasn't had in a while, a male member, but Jensen is good so he makes the team. As part of his initiation, Jensen has to do what all the other cheerleaders before him did - while dressed in the girls uniform he has to get/steal a kiss from the current head quarterback. Jensen has to get a kiss from Jared.
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1,917
Jensen pulls the skirt down a little more, feels the feathery hair of his thighs brush against his fingers and cringes again.
He’s been at the high school for barely two weeks, auditioned for Cheer Squad two days after his arrival, standing in front of four doe-eyed girls who had looked fairly innocent at the time. Now, standing in the changing rooms five minutes before the game dressed exactly as they are, he knows differently. They’re not innocent at all.
They’re evil. Every single one of them.
"I told you to shave," Alona sing-songs. Jensen shoots her a withering look.
Genevieve's full-lips twist into something like a smile. She was a new-recruit too, just a few months ago, the last cheerleader to steal a kiss from a quarterback before Jensen and the only one so far to steal a kiss from Jared Padalecki, this year’s new QB.
The way Genevieve tells it, Jared was pretty receptive to her kiss. Jensen just bets he was. It probably helped that Genevieve wasn’t a guy in a skirt.
“I don’t see why I can’t just wear my shorts. Or kiss a girl even. I could kiss Danneel Harris from the lacrosse team.”
Alona snorts and jumps down from the counter she’d been sitting on, swinging her feet. She stops right in front of him and smoothes down the front of his cheerleading shirt in a casual, almost motherly way. “Everybody knows the lacrosse team is full of dykes, she’d beat you worse than any of the footballers would.”
Genevieve nods. “And besides, you look gayer in your shorts than you do in the skirt.”
Jensen’s retort about goddamn phobic cheerleaders is lost when the changing room doors bang open, the other girls bundling in, excited. “The team just left their locker room,” Julie says, clapping her hands together before holding them out to Jensen. “Come on! It’s go time.”
Jensen can hear his heartbeat he’s so sick with nerves, but none of them care, pressing at his waist and shoulders until he’s out of the door and halfway to the field.
The team are all there, some hopping on the spot or stretching, most just standing around, surveying the crowd. A couple of them, helmets on, are pressing their mouth guards into place and Jensen’s heart falls when he sees that Jared isn’t one of them - the helmet might’ve been the only thing to get him out of this.
Jensen’s only seen Jared without the uniform, broad-shouldered and tall but not intimidatingly big like some of the others on the team, but the sight of him in his jersey, wide shoulder pads, helmet beneath his arm…Jared looks huge, standing tall with several members of his team, grinning and nudging and being so…male.
Jensen’s positive he’s going to get his ass kicked - probably for the skirt alone, and his fears feel pretty justified when the sight of him sends half the team into rabid jeers. He wants to run, wants to say fuck it and forget the damn cheerleading thing, but he didn’t have the courage to even try at his old school. It’s an achievement in itself that they let a freshman on the team, male or not.
Jared hasn’t really reacted at all, staring at him with an almost studious expression like he can’t quite work out what’s going on. That changes when Jensen starts in a direct line towards him, determined set to his shoulders.
Jared’s eyes flick momentarily to Genevieve before landing back on him and Jensen can see it all slot into place. He presses on, steps in as close as he can and lifts up onto the tips of his toes. Jared sucks in a breath.
It's quick, just a smack of dry lips and then Jensen's stepping back, red-faced, the reality of the situation hitting him again, hard. He can't look at Jared, can't work out from the quarterback's sound of surprise whether or not he was pleased or disgusted to be kissed -though considering he's a boy in a skirt it's not hard to guess- so he immediately turns away.
He has just a few seconds to note the looks on all of the girl’s faces before there's a hand on his arm, tight grip, and then he's being spun around. Jared doesn’t look mad, exactly, just sort of pained, and then suddenly Jensen’s being hauled back in, Jared taking advantage of Jensen’s smaller size and frozen shock to tongue inside his mouth.
There are people everywhere, gasping and cackling and Jensen feels himself go fiery-hot with shame, raises his hands to push at Jared’s shoulders but it’s futile, the quarterback is too strong. Worse, the big hand that was at the small of Jensen’s back slides lower, barely pausing to grip at the curve of his ass before going lower still.
It’s with horror that Jensen realises what the quarterback is doing, raising the hem of Jensen’s stupid skirt to reveal the spandex shorts underneath, his fingers gripping hard this time at the rounded flesh there.
The coach’s frantic whistling pierces through the air and Jared pulls back, Cheshire-cat grin splitting his mouth before he raises a thumb to swipe at his kiss-wet lips. He looks altogether pleased with himself, for a guy who just groped another boy mere feet from his football team and bleachers containing half the school.
Jared’s mouth twitches but Jensen dashes before the quarterback can speak.
He spends the entirety of the game in the changing room with his head in his hands. His lips tingle from the force of Jared’s kiss and Jensen’s nerves kick up, his stomach fluttering so violently he half expects to be sick. None of it makes any sense. A sick joke, maybe.
The girls at least manage to look sheepish when they return; shooting him worried glances and not even bothering to make a fuss about him being in there while they change.
Finally Alona clears her throat, says, “At least you know he’s not going to kick your ass?”
He figures that’s probably all he’ll get from them in way of a verbal apology, but he can’t bring himself to worry about that when his brain keeps supplying images of the football team waiting for him outside with chains and switchblades like something out of a James Dean movie.
Packing their bags the girls mutter about movie night, about popcorn and soda and Jensen’s stomach sets off in another round of churns. He tells them to go ahead to their cars, he just needs a second. He watches them file out and figures they’ll warn him if, indeed, the football team have gathered with their pitchforks.
It’s eerily silent inside now that the roaring crowd has dissipated and he gathers his things, tosses the stupid skirt into the corner of the room and zips up his bag. Taking a deep breath he pushes the door open and comes face to face with Jared.
Jared’s gaze slips down the length of his body, lingers on his jeans, and then the quarterback clucks his tongue. “I liked the skirt,” he shrugs, “But this is fine.”
And then Jared’s lurching forward, grabbing Jensen hard and before he knows it he’s sandwiched between the wall and the hard length of Jared’s body. The quarterback smells like soap and his damp hair hangs in his eyes, brushes Jensen’s face as Jared presses their foreheads together.
Too scared to speak for fear of his heart falling out of his mouth, Jensen can’t do anything but stand frozen in Jared’s grip; feel the warmth of large hands as they travel to his hips.
“Hi,” Jared murmurs, breathy and aroused, before covering Jensen’s mouth with his, a perfect, wet heat which goes right to Jensen’s dick. He tongues at the crease of Jensen’s lips, growling when they don’t just open right up for him like he wants. He presses Jensen harder against the wall.
Somehow Jensen’s hands have found their way up to Jared’s shoulders and he grips hard, feels the muscle there give a little under his fingers. Jared barely seems to feel it. His big hand spreads wide on Jensen’s hip while the other moves, again, to grope at his behind. In one liquid move he dips his knees and pulls their groins together at the perfect angle, moans into Jensen’s mouth at the sweet friction against his hard cock.
Suddenly breathless, Jensen pulls away with a gasp and tries to hide his face, whines when Jared won’t let him; takes hold of his jaw and forces eye-contact. He smiles, delighted, when Jensen blushes.
“You’re shy, hmm?” he whispers, pressing his thumb to Jensen’s kissed-pink mouth until his lips part, slipping the digit inside. Jensen makes a noise in his throat, desperate and embarrassed, torn, and feels his cheeks pink impossibly more. Jared presses his mouth to the heat there. “Pretty…”
He kisses the flushed patch of freckles before pulling back, letting his thumb slip out of Jensen’s mouth to rest, spit-slick, on his bottom lip. His eyes linger there, dark and intense, before flicking up to meet Jensen’s own.
“Was thinkin’ about you in the shower,” he croons, his voice soft like he’s calming a frightened horse. “About your mouth.”
With a shudder Jensen’s eyes slip shut and Jared chuckles, pressing close again. Jensen feels the warm brush of breath against his lips, anticipates another kiss, but then the door swings open, hits the wall beside him and he jumps, blinks open to find three of the girls gathered in the doorway. One of them maybe tries to say something but her voice catches like a wet click in her throat. He feels sick with embarrassment.
“We’re busy,” Jared growls, standing at his full height to crowd Jensen further into the wall but Jensen’s already begun to wriggle free, pressing his hands against the - hothardhot - muscle of Jared’s chest. Jared lingers for a moment, resists the force, until finally giving in.
Jensen brushes past him immediately to stand amidst the girls, tries to compose himself while they all stare at Jared like he’s some kind of predator.
Jared doesn’t look remotely apologetic.
Julie slips up close beside Jensen and pulls at his arm, whispers is he okay and some other comforts but Jensen can only concentrate on the hard, visible length of Jared’s cock through his jeans that Jared makes no attempt to disguise.
The girls pull him with them as they back away, just a few feet and then they turn, Genevieve muttering, “Oh my god,” as they go.
“What’s your name?” Jared calls from behind them, his voice still tinged with amusement. It’s a struggle, but Jensen manages to keep walking without looking back. Jared huffs. “Aw, you won’t even tell me your name?”
They’re at the exit, still ignoring him it seems, until Alona swings around with a mysterious twist to her mouth and shrugs. “His name is Jensen, you caveman” she sneers, “And he’s a good boy, so maybe next time you wanna grope him you should consider dinner and a movie first, huh?”
Jared’s answering laugh is like a boom of sound echoing in the hallway and Jensen can’t help looking back over his shoulder.
Jared catches his eye and winks. “Friday then?”
Jensen couldn’t manage speaking right then if his life depended on it, but luckily Alona has clearly taken it upon herself to answer for him, raising one shoulder in a coy little shrug. “That could be arranged.”
-
Original prompt/fill can be found here.
Prompt: Jared/Jensen - blushing!Jensen, first times/kiss, public groping
Jensen is new to the high school, having just moved, and he joins the cheerleading team. The team has never had, or hasn't had in a while, a male member, but Jensen is good so he makes the team. As part of his initiation, Jensen has to do what all the other cheerleaders before him did - while dressed in the girls uniform he has to get/steal a kiss from the current head quarterback. Jensen has to get a kiss from Jared.
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1,917
Jensen pulls the skirt down a little more, feels the feathery hair of his thighs brush against his fingers and cringes again.
He’s been at the high school for barely two weeks, auditioned for Cheer Squad two days after his arrival, standing in front of four doe-eyed girls who had looked fairly innocent at the time. Now, standing in the changing rooms five minutes before the game dressed exactly as they are, he knows differently. They’re not innocent at all.
They’re evil. Every single one of them.
"I told you to shave," Alona sing-songs. Jensen shoots her a withering look.
Genevieve's full-lips twist into something like a smile. She was a new-recruit too, just a few months ago, the last cheerleader to steal a kiss from a quarterback before Jensen and the only one so far to steal a kiss from Jared Padalecki, this year’s new QB.
The way Genevieve tells it, Jared was pretty receptive to her kiss. Jensen just bets he was. It probably helped that Genevieve wasn’t a guy in a skirt.
“I don’t see why I can’t just wear my shorts. Or kiss a girl even. I could kiss Danneel Harris from the lacrosse team.”
Alona snorts and jumps down from the counter she’d been sitting on, swinging her feet. She stops right in front of him and smoothes down the front of his cheerleading shirt in a casual, almost motherly way. “Everybody knows the lacrosse team is full of dykes, she’d beat you worse than any of the footballers would.”
Genevieve nods. “And besides, you look gayer in your shorts than you do in the skirt.”
Jensen’s retort about goddamn phobic cheerleaders is lost when the changing room doors bang open, the other girls bundling in, excited. “The team just left their locker room,” Julie says, clapping her hands together before holding them out to Jensen. “Come on! It’s go time.”
Jensen can hear his heartbeat he’s so sick with nerves, but none of them care, pressing at his waist and shoulders until he’s out of the door and halfway to the field.
The team are all there, some hopping on the spot or stretching, most just standing around, surveying the crowd. A couple of them, helmets on, are pressing their mouth guards into place and Jensen’s heart falls when he sees that Jared isn’t one of them - the helmet might’ve been the only thing to get him out of this.
Jensen’s only seen Jared without the uniform, broad-shouldered and tall but not intimidatingly big like some of the others on the team, but the sight of him in his jersey, wide shoulder pads, helmet beneath his arm…Jared looks huge, standing tall with several members of his team, grinning and nudging and being so…male.
Jensen’s positive he’s going to get his ass kicked - probably for the skirt alone, and his fears feel pretty justified when the sight of him sends half the team into rabid jeers. He wants to run, wants to say fuck it and forget the damn cheerleading thing, but he didn’t have the courage to even try at his old school. It’s an achievement in itself that they let a freshman on the team, male or not.
Jared hasn’t really reacted at all, staring at him with an almost studious expression like he can’t quite work out what’s going on. That changes when Jensen starts in a direct line towards him, determined set to his shoulders.
Jared’s eyes flick momentarily to Genevieve before landing back on him and Jensen can see it all slot into place. He presses on, steps in as close as he can and lifts up onto the tips of his toes. Jared sucks in a breath.
It's quick, just a smack of dry lips and then Jensen's stepping back, red-faced, the reality of the situation hitting him again, hard. He can't look at Jared, can't work out from the quarterback's sound of surprise whether or not he was pleased or disgusted to be kissed -though considering he's a boy in a skirt it's not hard to guess- so he immediately turns away.
He has just a few seconds to note the looks on all of the girl’s faces before there's a hand on his arm, tight grip, and then he's being spun around. Jared doesn’t look mad, exactly, just sort of pained, and then suddenly Jensen’s being hauled back in, Jared taking advantage of Jensen’s smaller size and frozen shock to tongue inside his mouth.
There are people everywhere, gasping and cackling and Jensen feels himself go fiery-hot with shame, raises his hands to push at Jared’s shoulders but it’s futile, the quarterback is too strong. Worse, the big hand that was at the small of Jensen’s back slides lower, barely pausing to grip at the curve of his ass before going lower still.
It’s with horror that Jensen realises what the quarterback is doing, raising the hem of Jensen’s stupid skirt to reveal the spandex shorts underneath, his fingers gripping hard this time at the rounded flesh there.
The coach’s frantic whistling pierces through the air and Jared pulls back, Cheshire-cat grin splitting his mouth before he raises a thumb to swipe at his kiss-wet lips. He looks altogether pleased with himself, for a guy who just groped another boy mere feet from his football team and bleachers containing half the school.
Jared’s mouth twitches but Jensen dashes before the quarterback can speak.
He spends the entirety of the game in the changing room with his head in his hands. His lips tingle from the force of Jared’s kiss and Jensen’s nerves kick up, his stomach fluttering so violently he half expects to be sick. None of it makes any sense. A sick joke, maybe.
The girls at least manage to look sheepish when they return; shooting him worried glances and not even bothering to make a fuss about him being in there while they change.
Finally Alona clears her throat, says, “At least you know he’s not going to kick your ass?”
He figures that’s probably all he’ll get from them in way of a verbal apology, but he can’t bring himself to worry about that when his brain keeps supplying images of the football team waiting for him outside with chains and switchblades like something out of a James Dean movie.
Packing their bags the girls mutter about movie night, about popcorn and soda and Jensen’s stomach sets off in another round of churns. He tells them to go ahead to their cars, he just needs a second. He watches them file out and figures they’ll warn him if, indeed, the football team have gathered with their pitchforks.
It’s eerily silent inside now that the roaring crowd has dissipated and he gathers his things, tosses the stupid skirt into the corner of the room and zips up his bag. Taking a deep breath he pushes the door open and comes face to face with Jared.
Jared’s gaze slips down the length of his body, lingers on his jeans, and then the quarterback clucks his tongue. “I liked the skirt,” he shrugs, “But this is fine.”
And then Jared’s lurching forward, grabbing Jensen hard and before he knows it he’s sandwiched between the wall and the hard length of Jared’s body. The quarterback smells like soap and his damp hair hangs in his eyes, brushes Jensen’s face as Jared presses their foreheads together.
Too scared to speak for fear of his heart falling out of his mouth, Jensen can’t do anything but stand frozen in Jared’s grip; feel the warmth of large hands as they travel to his hips.
“Hi,” Jared murmurs, breathy and aroused, before covering Jensen’s mouth with his, a perfect, wet heat which goes right to Jensen’s dick. He tongues at the crease of Jensen’s lips, growling when they don’t just open right up for him like he wants. He presses Jensen harder against the wall.
Somehow Jensen’s hands have found their way up to Jared’s shoulders and he grips hard, feels the muscle there give a little under his fingers. Jared barely seems to feel it. His big hand spreads wide on Jensen’s hip while the other moves, again, to grope at his behind. In one liquid move he dips his knees and pulls their groins together at the perfect angle, moans into Jensen’s mouth at the sweet friction against his hard cock.
Suddenly breathless, Jensen pulls away with a gasp and tries to hide his face, whines when Jared won’t let him; takes hold of his jaw and forces eye-contact. He smiles, delighted, when Jensen blushes.
“You’re shy, hmm?” he whispers, pressing his thumb to Jensen’s kissed-pink mouth until his lips part, slipping the digit inside. Jensen makes a noise in his throat, desperate and embarrassed, torn, and feels his cheeks pink impossibly more. Jared presses his mouth to the heat there. “Pretty…”
He kisses the flushed patch of freckles before pulling back, letting his thumb slip out of Jensen’s mouth to rest, spit-slick, on his bottom lip. His eyes linger there, dark and intense, before flicking up to meet Jensen’s own.
“Was thinkin’ about you in the shower,” he croons, his voice soft like he’s calming a frightened horse. “About your mouth.”
With a shudder Jensen’s eyes slip shut and Jared chuckles, pressing close again. Jensen feels the warm brush of breath against his lips, anticipates another kiss, but then the door swings open, hits the wall beside him and he jumps, blinks open to find three of the girls gathered in the doorway. One of them maybe tries to say something but her voice catches like a wet click in her throat. He feels sick with embarrassment.
“We’re busy,” Jared growls, standing at his full height to crowd Jensen further into the wall but Jensen’s already begun to wriggle free, pressing his hands against the - hothardhot - muscle of Jared’s chest. Jared lingers for a moment, resists the force, until finally giving in.
Jensen brushes past him immediately to stand amidst the girls, tries to compose himself while they all stare at Jared like he’s some kind of predator.
Jared doesn’t look remotely apologetic.
Julie slips up close beside Jensen and pulls at his arm, whispers is he okay and some other comforts but Jensen can only concentrate on the hard, visible length of Jared’s cock through his jeans that Jared makes no attempt to disguise.
The girls pull him with them as they back away, just a few feet and then they turn, Genevieve muttering, “Oh my god,” as they go.
“What’s your name?” Jared calls from behind them, his voice still tinged with amusement. It’s a struggle, but Jensen manages to keep walking without looking back. Jared huffs. “Aw, you won’t even tell me your name?”
They’re at the exit, still ignoring him it seems, until Alona swings around with a mysterious twist to her mouth and shrugs. “His name is Jensen, you caveman” she sneers, “And he’s a good boy, so maybe next time you wanna grope him you should consider dinner and a movie first, huh?”
Jared’s answering laugh is like a boom of sound echoing in the hallway and Jensen can’t help looking back over his shoulder.
Jared catches his eye and winks. “Friday then?”
Jensen couldn’t manage speaking right then if his life depended on it, but luckily Alona has clearly taken it upon herself to answer for him, raising one shoulder in a coy little shrug. “That could be arranged.”
-
Original prompt/fill can be found here.