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#mr jensen wanted more
someshipsneversail · 1 year
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strawlessandbraless · 3 months
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No because I made a poll about who wants to fuck Dean Winchester more between Cas and Jensen Ackles
And now the tags are just about how Jensen has 100% gotten off while wearing Dean’s clothes, and it’s being termed ‘he jackled off’
Truly unhinged supernatural perverts. Keep it up, I love you all. And don’t ever look at my blog Mr. Collins
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rainydayandmondays · 4 months
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Secret Santa is Coming....
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Summary: Time for the Secret Santa gift exchange and Andy knows you deserve only the best gift. And who says it can’t be a gift for both of you.
Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, female masturbation, voyeurism, Daddy kink, slight non-con
Author’s Note: A follow up to the Thanksgiving Potluck. I don’t think Andy is okay with just a one-shot with his sweet girl.
“Mr. Barber.”
Andy looked up to see you standing just inside his doorway. Your hands dropping to be held in front of you, he watched as you momentarily shifted from foot to foot. You were uneasy and that should never be how you feel around him. He dropped the affidavit he had been reading back to his desk, before rolling his shoulders, and sitting back in his chair. Something had you skittish and he wouldn’t have that.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
You bow your head at the nickname, your bashful reaction to it would never get old with him. However, he did try to use it sparingly. Waiting until you two were mostly alone, he would softly say it and watch you smile before catching yourself.
“Can I talk to you about something?” You looked at him, your brow furrowing as you waited for his response. Something was wrong. He could feel his own unease build up the longer he watched you, your fingers now fidgeting in front of you.
“Is that even a question? Of course, you can,” He gestured to the seat in front of him.
You seemed to loosen up at his response, your hands dropping the gripped hold you had them in. Turning to close the door behind you, you gave him a small hopeful smile before taking the offered seat.
He continued to sit back, despite wanting to inch closer to you. You were calmer now and he didn’t want to break you from that peace that you had regained, “What’s going on?”
You took a quick inhale before asking your question, “Are you the one leaving coffee on my desk every morning?"
The coffee. You knew about the coffee. After Thanksgiving, he hadn’t wanted to give up the feeling he felt watching you enjoy him so much. He embraced the flashes of you licking your lips after finishing his potluck offering. They would keep him busy popping up over the long holiday weekend.
Laurie had ordered in catering for their family meal. Things were starting to pick up for her at work as they entered the holiday season. Buying everything and then cooking the turkey dinner wasn’t something she was willing to take on. Instead, they had pulled the plastic containers from the takeaway bag, quickly heating them up before sitting down to the saddest Thanksgiving meal. Thoughts of you were the only thing that pulled him out his funk to start pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic.
He decided that weekend that he would find a way to share that with you again. Your friend may have thrown out that thinly veiled threat, but he would find a way around it. Returning to the office after the holiday, he decided to keep his ritual to his nightly shower. No more parking garage camera feed for your noisy friend to make noise about. He found if he worked late enough, by the time he got home, there would be no one up to ask why he took a tumbler with him to shower.
Filling up his trusty tumbler every night, he would grab it from the refrigerator each morning as he waved goodbye to a wife and son who seemed to be more enthralled with their phones than anything he was doing. Heading to the local coffee shop after his morning swim, he would sit in his car adding his special ingredient to the small light roast brew with double espresso shots and half and half.
Making sure to get in as early as possible, he would leave the cup of coffee on your desk before hustling to his office. He had done so for the last week, a smirk lighting up his face when you brought the cup to the weekly team debrief for the latest cases. But now you knew it was him. He should have known you would figure it out.
Trying his best to not react to your question, he pulled on all his skills to keep the best poker face. He could come up with a reason for it that wouldn’t return you to that ball of nerves that had stood in his doorway.
He cleared his throat before responding, “You caught me. I know the late nights you have been putting in. That can’t be easy to do and then only to go home and help your parents. Figured you might need something to look forward to.”
You hummed at his explanation, looking down before returning your gaze to him, “That’s very kind, Mr. Barber. Sweet even. It’s just…people like to talk. I’ve worked so hard. And I don’t want anyone to think that I got anything because of…because of anything else other than work.”
Your eyes had continued to flit between him and your hands in your lap as you spoke. He could tell that you had thought through your small speech, probably even prepped yourself on your drive in. He also knew that one of the office gossips had gotten to you. He was selfish and he wanted the moments with you but not at the risk of you feeling uncomfortable.
Leaning against the desk, he looked at you straight on, expressing as much empathy as possible, “Understood. No more coffees.”
Your shoulders finally came down from around your ears and you sighed, nodding back in thanks.
“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you replied before rising to walk towards his office door. He wanted to correct you. Remind you to call him Andy. However, he figured it was best not to push his luck. Watching you push the wrinkles from your skirt as you walked away, he called back to you, “I don’t want you worrying about this or what anyone may say, okay?”
Stopping to look over your shoulder, you reached to grab at your necklace, “I won’t.”
“Promise me?” He smirked as you continued to twiddle with the gold chain.
“I promise,” you answered as he nodded for you to leave.
With the click of his door closing, he looked down at his desk, saving your promise to his memory. He’ll use it later tonight.
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Holding the slip of paper in his hands, your name neatly scrawled across it, he smiled to himself. A couple of people in the office decided to put together a Secret Santa exchange. Apparently, the Thanksgiving potluck was such a success when it came to team building, the higher ups agreed to the next holiday activity. Even had HR sign off on it.
Andy had been in court when the bag of names had been passed around. He didn’t give it much thought. Since your stop in his office a week ago, he had kept his distance. It wasn’t something that he wanted in the slightest. But he was willing to respect your genuine worry about office gossip. No more tumblers, no more early coffee runs. The research requests still happened but always through the weekly team huddle.
However, now seeing your name chosen for him, he had to smile to himself. Of course, it would be you that he would get. Of course, him trying to keep his distance would mean you finding a way back to him.
He sat down, leaning his chin in his hands, “Okay, sweet girl. I understand.”
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The office had pretty much cleared out with most people starting their holiday vacations. The last few streamers from the small Christmas luncheon had been balled up and chucked in the bin, when Andy made his way out to the bull pin. You were waving off the last of the other paralegals as you collected your stuff to make your own way home.
“Hey sweetheart,” he saw you jump a little before turning to him.
You had worn a red Christmas sweater with a white bow handstitched along the collar. Your normal pencil skirt had been replaced by a pair of black slacks. And although not his favorite, the pants had done wonders for your ass. He had watched as you moved around the office putting up the last-minute decorations, only to take them down.
“Hi Andy.” You replied turning and looking up at him from your office chair. He caught the small smile that wanted to break free at your utterance of his name. That was good, you were comfortable around him again.
Clearing his throat, he brought the gift bag from behind his bag, presenting it to you, “Merry Christmas.”
“So, you were my Secret Santa,” you smirked looking at the packed gift bag he had hastily bought from the Walgreens down the street.
“It’s a three-part gift,” he answered, nodding towards it and urging you to open it.
Taking the stuffed tissue paper from the top you reached in pulling out a pink tumbler. You let out a small giggle, “For my coffee?”
He fully smiled this time, before shrugging his shoulders and pointing to the remaining items in the gift bag. Putting down the tumbler, you turned back to the bag, reaching the bottom of it, you pulled out a wooden paper weight. Carved into the center was the seal for Boston College Law School. Your brow creased as you tried to piece together the meaning of the gift. He watched as you finally looked back to him, your look pleading for an answer.
“That’s the second part. An old college buddy of mine is the registrar. I told him about a paralegal that had aced her LSATs, had helped on numerous high profile ADA cases, but hadn’t had the chance to enroll yet.” He looked on as the puzzle started to come together in your mind. Your brow creased further as tears started to line your eyelashes.
“They have grant funds set aside every year for students that display great potential. He took care of everything. You can enroll whenever you’re ready. There will be a space for you. That’s the third part.” He whispered the last of his explanation. The tears that had been threatening to fall now ran fully down your cheeks.
“Oh my God. Thank you.” You jumped from your chair, throwing your arms around his shoulders.
Initially taken by surprise, he hesitated momentarily before letting his body relax into your hold. His hands landing on your back as you sniffled into his dress shirt and whispered quiet thank you’s in his ear.  He threw up his own thanks at the office being empty. Something tells him that you may have restrained yourself more with an audience.
Starting to feel you pull away, he resisted the urge to cling to you. It had been a while since Andy had a genuine hug. He had been mostly regulated to side hugs with Laurie. Every once in a while, it would include a kiss to the cheek. And Jacob, well he was fully rooted in his teen years and any idolization that he might have had for his dad had been long gone. He would only get quick nods of recognition from over the top of the phone from his son. But now with you, he could feel the heat of your body, the small catches in your breath as you tried to regulate your outburst. This was something he couldn’t give up.
“I’m so sorry. That’s not very professional of me. It’s just…this means so much to me.”
Your tearful smile at him tempted him to bring you back into his embrace. To just hold you as all the happy tears flowed out of you.
You giggled again, shaking your head, “I have to tell my parents. I have to…”
He nodded at you, seeing all the possibilities run through your mind. He had opened doors for you. Had given you a better future. Had put that delighted smile on your face. He had done that. You quickly began to pack up your remaining things, yesterday’s brief stuffed in with your laptop. Turning to him again, you smiled again grabbing onto his forearm and squeezing.
“Merry Christmas sweetheart.”
“Merry Christmas Andy.”
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“Can you believe it, Jake? I can enroll whenever I’m ready. There’s a space just waiting for me.” You talked animatedly to your best friend as you placed the carved paperweight on your bookcase. It would sit perfect with your old undergrad books and picture of Jake and you from your graduation.
“That’s amazing, Ace! So, he just called a friend and got this all sorted out?” Jake asked facetiming you from his room.
He had suspicions about your kind of boss since before meeting him Thanksgiving. You had mentioned how many late nights you had been spending at the office recently and how walking out at night gave you the heebie-jeebies. The protector within him woke up immediately at that, ready to offer to pick you up if he needed to. You would never ask him to do that yourself. That’s when you brought up Andy Barber and how he started walking you out.
It hadn’t taken Jake long to dig up information on the ADA. He had the white picket fence life, although there wasn’t too much about his past listed. That was the first red flag. Hacking into the courthouse’s camera feed had been relatively easy. These older government buildings never bothered upping their security.
Andy Barber always parked in one of the garage’s blind spots. That would be the second red flag. After you left, Andy wouldn’t be seen exiting until half an hour later. What could he possibly be doing in a parked car for thirty minutes? That was the final red flag.
“His friend is the registrar at the school. He was able to work it out. What?” Sitting down on your bed, you leaned back looking at Jake on your phone. He was making his slightly worried puppy dog face.
“It’s just that’s a lot to get coordinated so fast.”
“Why can’t you just be happy for me, Jake?” You asked only to see Jake’s face immediately deflate. The worried puppy dog look morphing to kicked puppy. His eyes widening behind his glasses.
“Of course, I’m happy for you Ace. It’s just that you’re too trusting sometimes.”
“I’m not a child,” you grumbled back, and Jake wanted to jump through the phone and ease your anger.
“You’re not. You’re a person with a good heart that wants to believe the best in people,” he saw the crease in your brow ease as he spoke, “And that’s why I gotta look out for you.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your small smile at Jake’s statement. From the first moment he had run into on his skateboard, knocking both of you over in the quad in college, he had looked out for you.
“When do you come back?”
“Why? Do you already miss me?” You watched Jake wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, causing a round of giggles to erupt from you. He pretended to be hurt by your outburst before continuing, “Probably not until the new year.”
You hummed, sitting back up, Jake and you sat in silence as he watched the disappointment take over your expression. He searched for a way to get you to smile again when he heard the knock at the door. Quickly looking back at the door, he breathed a sigh of relief seeing he had locked it.
“I gotta go, Ace.” He watched you nod a short okay, before finally getting up from your bed.
“I miss you.” “I miss you too, Jake.”
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Andy sat down at the desk in his home office. Neck stretched back along the back of the chair, as he thought back on the last couple of hours since getting home. Walking in, he noticed all the lights were off, not even the Christmas tree in the den was lit. Disengaging the alarm, he made his way into the kitchen to see a sticky note stuck to the fridge. Laurie had to go back into the office to finalize the preparations for the end of the year gala, while Jacob spent the night at a friend’s. So much for family time.
Putting an order into the local Italian place, he went upstairs to change out of his work clothes. He contemplated jumping in the shower, until he heard the doorbell ring with his takeout. Turning on the tree in the den, he ate his pasta dish with only the twinkling Christmas lights on. What had his life become? What had his family become?
Dropping the to-go containers in the trash, he wandered back to his office. He thought about powering up his laptop and finishing the closing remarks for one of his cases, when he found the holiday favors that you had passed around the office this morning. Your red sweater on, you greeted everyone with such joy for the upcoming holiday. He couldn’t help but smile up at you, as you left the favor on his desk.
You were a sweetheart. His sweetheart. His sweet girl. He rubbed along his bottom lip as he remembered your reaction to his gift. The hug had surprised him. But fuck if he hadn’t loved every minute of it. He didn’t even mind the soft sniffling you made as your tears stained his tie. He had made those tears.
Opening his iPad, he logged into the recently downloaded program. Would you have already told everyone about what he had done for you? Would you have passed around the carved seal of your new school for everyone to admire? Would you have put it in a place of pride? He wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to check.
Finishing entering the credentials, he watched as his screen came to life and he saw your bedroom space. It was cheerful like you, with multiple pillows adorning your bed and bursts of color in the pictures you hung on your walls. He devoured the scene, greedily taking in everything he could see, when he heard the click of the bedroom door. The small camera was powerful and could zoom 10x but was stationary in the middle of the school seal.
He waited, hearing you hum a Christmas song along the with opening and closing of drawers off camera and the tossing of a bath towel on the bed. Finally making your way into view, he saw your silk two-piece set. The navy-blue pajama top with white piping along seams hugged your tits. Your free tits, there’s no way you were still wearing a bra with the way your nipples poked through. And the shorts that accompanied it, covered the curve of your ass, but he watched as they inched up as you started to turn down the bed.
He shifted in his seat as he set the iPad to lean against the monitor stand on his desk. Widening his legs and easing back into his chair, he adjusted himself. He hadn’t had a chance for his nightly ritual. But seeing you now, he was happy to see he would have new things to add to his memory. You always knew how to take care of him. His sweet girl.
After setting most of the pillows aside, you climbed into bed, reaching over for your earbuds and phone. He couldn’t tell what you were listening to but judging by the content smile on your face, it must be good. He watched as you closed your eyes, listening to whatever was piping through your earbuds. Reaching down, he rubbed himself through his pajama bottoms. Nothing too aggressive, just softest of touches. The kind he always imagined you would give him. Always delicate and soft at the start.
He sighed to himself as he watched you, “My sweet girl.”
Lost in the moment, he didn’t catch you shifting at first. However, looking back at the screen, he saw your hand move to your top. You let out a small sigh as your fingers started to flick at your nipple, rolling it between your fingers. He frantically sat up, engaging the zoom function to watch up close. Your nipples were amazing, and he knew given the chance he would lap at them, giving them little bites to see you squirm. Your eyes were closed, breathing harsher, as you played with your tits.
“Play with her tits, sweet girl. Show me how sensitive they are,” He whispered as he took full hold of himself. After hitting his fist on the underside of the desk, he pushed back from it to make room for his hand as he continued to slide up and down his shaft.  
He could hear the little sighs you were making as they started to get louder. He knew you would be vocal. You would tell him everything that made you feel good. Both your hands covered your tits while the buttons of your shirt lay open from where you had torn it open to get your hands in.
“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” He squeezed around the tip before breaking contact with the screen to spit down onto himself. At feel of his warm saliva, that winking eye dribbled out onto self.
Hearing shifting, he looked back to find you grabbing one of the pillows you hadn’t bothered to put aside. Now, what were you doing now? He watched as you grabbed the forgotten towel still at the foot of your bed. Placing the pillow in the middle of the bed, you draped the towel over it before swinging a leg over and straddling the setup.
“Fuck me. Take what you need, sweet girl.” He grunted as you started to rock back and forth on the pillow.
Your hips started a natural rhythm, one hand still pawing at your tit while the other held you steady on your perch. As he looked on, the more he dribbled out on his hand, and he finally reached down pushing his pants and underwear off. His ass was momentarily cold on the leather of the seat, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as you kept humping your pillow.
“Daddy.”
Andy nearly swallowed his tongue when he heard your whisper. Your bottom lip now caught between your teeth as you whined.
“Daddy is here. Fuck, I’m right here.” He fisted himself, finally dropping to grab onto his balls and rolling them in his palm.
“Daddy, please.” You mewled out your whimper and he had to grab tight at his base to avoid blowing his load right then and there. You were close, but fuck him, if he missed it by losing it first.
“What do you need, sweet girl? What do you need from daddy?”
“Daddy, I can’t.”
How could you answer him? You had to know. His sweet girl was so smart, she could figure anything out. You had to know he was here. That he could see you. That he was watching you. You were doing this for him.
“Yes, you can. Daddy says you can. I’ll even count down. Five.”
You stuttered slightly before picking up your pace again.
“Four.”
He tightened his grip, corkscrewing his hand on each trip up.
“Three.”
Your breathing was getting harsher as you brought down your other hand, using both to steady you as your hips rolled.
“Two.”
He was almost there. His balls had already started to pull up as he planted his feet to thrust into his fist.
“One. Come on, my sweet girl. Come for daddy.”
He nearly lost it, as you threw your head back, mouth gaping in a silent cry, and the rest of your body spasming. Fucking his hand, he watched as a gush of liquid flew out of you, wetting the towel beneath.
“Oh fuck. Such a good girl. Such a good, fucking sweet girl.”
Standing up, he aimed for the screen as he lost it on the image of his sweet girl squirting for him. He twitched and continued to rub out every ounce he had for her. For once, he didn’t think about it going to waste. It hadn’t, not with what you had given him tonight.
Bracing against the edge of the desk, he flopped back into his chair, as you rolled off your pillow completely drained.
“Thank you, daddy.” You gave one final whisper before peeling off your pajama shorts and grabbing the covers to go to sleep.
“You’re more than welcome, sweet girl. Rest now.”
Andy watched you snuggle into bed, returning to the woman he knew from the office. No longer the horned up, little one that just needed her daddy to take care of her. Taking a tissue from the console behind him, he wiped himself down before wiping the screen and desk. Pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up, he started to log out of the camera’s app, when a dialog box popped up, asking to save or delete recording.
He hesitated only for a moment, before clicking save.
Maybe these work holiday functions weren’t the worst thing in the world.
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thezombieprostitute · 1 month
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Imagine this:
accountant!reader x IT tech!Jensen x manager!Andy x CEO!Lloyd
The intent was to write something short and sweet but smutty. The result is approximately 2200 words with a ton of smut! I blame Lloyd.
Warnings: Power dynamics; Creepy boss; Smut, smut, SMUT! Minors DNI!!!!
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“Thank you, Jake,” you half whisper, half moan into his ear. “I really needed this.” You’re not normally one for hookups in the supply closets but you’d had such a stressful day you really needed to let off some steam. Thankfully Jake was always happy to help you out. And he was very good at helping you feel good. 
The two of you had a friends-with-benefits situation that had been carefully negotiated and navigated. Sometimes you got the sense that Jake wanted more and that’s why he was so eager to please. But you were both quick to talk if either of you felt things were getting too serious. It definitely made office parties a lot more fun. Everyone else was enjoying the cheap food and you and Jake got to go to a private office and actually take your time together.
You both do try to be careful at the office but your manager, Andy, has been really ramping up the sad sack shtick with all the women in your department, desperate for a date or some feminine attention and pity. You could only take so much, especially when your coworkers pointed out to him that you’re single. Traitors. 
Every day he would ask you about your plans. You tried being polite and got nowhere. You finally told him, directly, that you weren’t interested in him last Friday. Today you were called into a meeting with HR about “appropriate workplace behavior”. They told you they’d received complaints from your manager about flirting with him despite him telling you “no”. You smiled tightly and nodded, staying quiet and signing the documents saying you’d been talked to. 
You texted Jake on your phone to meet you in the hall closet. One of the things you appreciated? He didn’t ask questions, he just showed up and gave you what you needed. He really seemed to like it when you would repeatedly whisper “thank you’s” into his ear. It’s only a quickie but it definitely helps. You kiss Jake’s cheek and thank him as he blushes. You leave at different times and head back to your respective desks.
 You check your email and find yourself looking at an appointment with Lloyd Hansen, the company’s CEO. Thinking it must’ve been in error you hit the “Decline” button and add the most polite note that you can think of. Just a few minutes after you get yet another appointment notice with Mr. Hansen. No explanatory note. You’re extra grateful to Jake because your brain immediately jumps to Andy complaining about you to Mr. Hansen because your HR visit wasn’t enough of a punishment. 
The appointment is for tomorrow so you silently stew for the rest of the workday. At home you treat yourself to your favorite meal and shows. Your sleep is full of stressful dreams and you wake up more exhausted than when you went to bed. Not wanting to look like a mess in front of Mr. Hansen, you make sure to take extra care of your makeup and clothing choices. Working as hard as your caffeine deprived can to balance “I’m okay” with “I’m not trying to flirt with anyone”. It’s never an easy task.
As you log on to your computer you smell Andy’s cologne and internally wince. You turn to face him, “yes, Mr. Barber?”
“Easy there, tiger,” he chastised. “I just want to make sure that you’re doing okay after that HR meeting.”
Gritting your teeth you reply, “why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well I know a lot of people can have a kind of whiplash when they realize their behavior isn’t acceptable,” he explains in an obviously condescending tone. “I’ll understand if you want to take some vacation time.”
“Mr. Barber,” you seethe, “I think what would help me the most is keeping some distance between us at all times in the office.”
“Okay,” he scoffs. “Just remember who it is that HR listens to.” He walks away and you find yourself trying to not throw or break something. 
As soon as you can you head straight to Mr. Hansen’s office. His secretary lets you in, though he is not yet in. You should probably be upset that he’s late for the meeting he insisted on having with you but it’s better than sitting in your cubicle waiting for Andy to strike. 
The quiet is broken by Mr. Hansen storming into the office, yelling at someone on the phone. You recognize him immediately if only because of the mustache. “And I told you to handle it, Six! Get your head out of your ass and fix it!” He lets out a small huff as he listens to the person on the phone. “I don’t give a shit. It should’ve been handled weeks ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting.” He hangs up without waiting for a response and turns to you with a smile that makes you feel like prey caught in a trap.
“So you’re the girl Barber was complaining out,” he starts. You’re unable to hold back your grimace and he laughs. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I don’t give a shit about that cuck.” You tilt your head in confusion. “See, he tried to play up the whole “women don’t know how to take a compliment” thing but I was able to see through him. He’s pathetic and you weren’t having it. Even flat out told him, “no”. That’s something I respect. Not everyone would do that to their boss.”
He sits down in his chair and continues, “so I started looking into you and imagine my surprise when I find out you and Jensen are hooking up!” Your eyes widen in shock and you start stammering before he holds out a hand, gesturing for you to stop. “You’re not in trouble for that. Hell if I could get laid instead of attending those lame work parties I absolutely would. Which is why I brought you here.” 
He leans his elbows on the desk, “I want in on whatever fuck-buddy deal you and Jensen got going on.”
“S..sir, I,” you’re at a loss for words. 
“Tell you what,” he slaps the desk and stands up, “I’ll make it easy for you. Either you agree to be my own fuck-buddy, occasionally still get some good stuff from Jensen, or I’ll make you Barber’s personal secretary.”
“What if I quit instead?”
“Then I’ll go ahead and fire Jensen,” he quips. “It would be a damn shame, though. Jakey is one of the best IT guys we got. Likely up for a promotion that would get him a private office.”
“Can I talk to Jake first,” you plead. “It is part of our arrangement that we communicate changes before they’re implemented.”
“You know what, sure. I can respect that a deal is a deal.” He goes to the phone on his desk and tells his secretary to send Jake up.
When Jake does arrive he’s shocked to see you. At Lloyd’s gesture he closes the door behind him. Lloyd doesn’t let you speak and lays everything out for him like he did you. 
Jake looks at you, “it’s…umm…I appreciate you looking out for me and my job,” he starts. “But it’s also your body and I would never want you to accept something like this just for me.”
“You know, Jakey here has a point,” Lloyd interjects. “You really don’t know what you’re in for with me. How about a demonstration? I’ll even let Jake join in to help keep you comfortable.”
Knowing that you were being watched shouldn’t excite you so much. The fact that both of these men wanted you was making you wet. You straddle Jake in his chair and start making out with him while taking off your clothes and grinding your hips against his crotch. 
Jake moans as he takes off your bra with practiced ease, “you’re sure about this?” 
“Feel how wet I am, Jake.” He obliges and sticks his fingers inside your panties. He rubs your clit and you arch your breasts into his face as his eyes widen at the wetness he finds there. 
“Holy shit,” he breathes. He gets a dark glint in his eye that you don’t entirely recognize. He removes his hand and starts to unbutton your pants. “You gotta taste her, Mr. Hansen. Sweetest pussy and it’s already drenched.”
You hadn’t realized Lloyd was standing behind you until he grabbed your breasts, lifting you a little as he nibbled your neck. He pulls you off of Jake and the two of them finish undressing you before setting you on Lloyd’s desk. You’re on your back, your head hanging over one side, your legs spread wide for the both of them. 
Lloyd doesn’t hesitate and dives tongue first into your pussy. Your reaction is immediate as he uses his mustache to tickle your clit. You throw your head back and moan before you’re able to stifle it. 
He pulls away from you, “don’t worry about noise, sweetheart. My secretary is gone for the afternoon and no one else would dare be on this floor.” He turns to Jake, “you were right! This is a damn tasty snack.” He gets back to it and you don’t hold back your sounds. It was such a relief to get to be as loud as you wanted. 
“Fuck, I love those sounds,” Jake groans.
You reach out to him, “your cock, Jake? Please, can I stroke your cock?”
“Love those sounds, too,” he grins as he undoes his belt. You look to Lloyd to see if he has any objections but he’s too focused on licking up all of your juices. Jake is already half hard and your hands know just how to get him fully erect. His hands start playing with your tits, gently pinching, pulling and fondling. 
The two of them quickly bring you to the brink of orgasm, then Lloyd sticks two of his fingers inside you and it pushes you over the edge. You cum loudly and Lloyd keeps scissoring his fingers while sucking on your clit, enjoying the show. When the aftershocks fade, he removes his hand and backs away just a little.
“Jensen, you take her mouth,” he orders. “I’m gonna make a mess of this pussy and I want to hear her choking on your cock while I do.”
You let go of Jake’s erection and he starts pushing himself into your mouth, grunting and moaning as he does so. He’s careful with you, like always, and places your hand on his thigh so you can signal if it gets too much.
Lloyd, however, lines himself up with your opening and quickly thrusts himself fully inside. If your mouth wasn’t so full of Jake’s cock, you’d likely have screamed. They fucked both of your holes with abandon and you were loving every second of it. Occasionally Jake would ask for a status and you’d tap his thigh twice for “all good”. 
“Not gonna last much longer,” Lloyd admitted. “This pussy is so fucking tight. I see why you risked your job for her.” He started rubbing your clit and you careened towards another orgasm. As soon as Jake came in your mouth you were done for. You tightened your legs around Lloyd as you came hard and swallowed all of Jake’s spend. You heard Lloyd mumbling, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” before he came with a yell. 
You’re still in a daze as both men pull out of you. Lloyd whistles, “now that’s a pretty picture. What say we get you cleaned up?”
“What the fuck?!” A voice from the office door crashes your post-orgasm euphoria. You look up and see Andy, standing in the doorway.
“Ah, Barber,” Lloyd says as he zips his pants back up. “Right on time.”
“What?!” Jake exclaims as you look, wide-eyed, at Lloyd. 
“You see, Andy,” he walks over to your manager and claps him on the shoulder. “You’re a complete cuck and we both know it.” Andy tries to protest but Lloyd cuts him off. “This is the closest you’re ever going to get to some pussy. Now be a good boy and clean up the mess I made.” He throws Andy to his knees in front of your spread pussy. 
Andy groans at the sight and you feel a stir of courage. “Well,” you scold. “Are you going to be a good boy and do as you're told or am I going to have to clean myself up?” His eyes darken but you don’t back down. He dives into your cum filled pussy and starts cleaning you up.
“Good boy,” Lloyd smirks. “Probably the only way you can actually please a woman.” He looks at Jake, “whenever you’re done with her, call her cuck over to clean up. Sound good?”
Jake looks to you and sees you writhing with pleasure, “I think so.”
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Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.
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gurugirl · 1 year
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He's Jealous* | h.s.
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stepdad!harry x reader
Summary: Y/n invites Harry and her mother to an awards ceremony and Harry meets her favorite professor/mentor for the first time. Based on this request.
A/n: a quick little something for y'all. 2.3k words
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, cheating, lying, jealousy. this is stepdad!harry x stepdaughter!reader and they have a very inappropriate relationship - don't read if you don't like!
stedad!harry masterlist
You never thought of yourself as a very creative or good student. You weren’t a terrible student or anything, you just never did more than the bare minimum. But this school year you had the opportunity to join the creative arts and writing club. You didn’t feel like you were really all that good but the professor in your creative writing class urged you to join. He featured one of your poems as part of a student artist awareness week and so you figured why not? If he liked your little poems that much then may it could be fun. Maybe he was right.
And then, by some odd stroke of luck, you won a competition and you were going to be part of an awards ceremony with other young creatives like yourself. It still felt weird to say that you were an artist of any kind or to accept the fact that you were creative and good at writing poems. It felt like a fluke. But your professor was adamant that you were worthy.
Your mom and Harry were coming into town to watch the ceremony and then to take you out to dinner afterward. There was also going to be an outing later for those who wanted to join. Some drinks and fun at the local bar which had been rented out for the group.
You were wearing a cute dress and felt pretty special at the ceremony. You’d never been that good at anything before so this was exciting for you. When you greeted your mom and Harry you hugged them both before joining the group of artists at the front while your mom and Harry sat down in the fold-out chairs set up on the lawn in the courtyard at the university.
Professor Jensen handed you your award after you went up to receive it and he gave you a nice squeeze and told you how proud he was before you walked off to find your seat next to your Mom. You were happy. Truly pleased with yourself.
When the ceremony was over you brought your mom and Harry to meet Professor Jensen. It was the first time you’d really gotten to know a teacher so well. You felt like he was your mentor in a way.
“It’s so nice to meet you both. Y/n has a natural talent that has only sharpened since she started taking our creative writing course,” he looked at you with a large grin. Of course, you were already beaming so you smiled back and then looked at Harry. And that’s when you realized it. Harry was not actually smiling. He was faking being happy. You could tell because you knew Harry very very well. All of his intricacies and quirks. The moods he’d have (good or bad). And this… well, you’d seen him fake a smile a time or two.
Before heading away to dinner Mr. Jensen pulled you to the side and congratulated you again, “Oh! And you’re coming to Poly’s Pub after right? We’ll see you there?”
You nodded, “Yes. Wouldn’t miss it!”
Mr. Jensen pulled you in for another hug before you turned to catch up with your mom and Harry who had been watching the exchange between you and the professor.
Dinner was at one of your favorite spots. Your mom asked you so many questions and gushed over you. But as happy as you were you couldn’t shake the way Harry was acting. He was pretending to be happy and proud. It was fake. He was pissed. There was some reason he was not happy and you couldn’t really figure out why.
“Will you two come with me after this to go to the pub? It’ll be all of the writers and artists. A few of the professors booked the bar for us to have some fun tonight.”
“Will your professor be there? The man who handed out the certificates?” Harry asked.
You slowly nodded and squinted at him, realizing what was going on, “Yes. He will.”
Now, it was true, Professor Jensen was an attractive man. The girls loved the professor. He was jovial and smart, and artistic and handsome. He was in his mid-forties but he acted younger and he was in good shape and he was charming. So yeah, you saw the appeal. And now you realized Harry was jealous. To you, though, it hadn’t really crossed your mind to swoon over the professor. He was a good teacher. And you got along with him well. Everyone did.
“Oh, I don’t know honey. We don’t want to be a bore. And we’ve got to drive all the way back home so… What do you think, Har?” Your mom answered as she looked at Harry.
“I think we should go. Why not? We haven’t got anything going on tomorrow? Have we?”
Your mom pursed her lips, “No. I guess not. We’d need to get a hotel or something…”
“I’m sure Y/n would be okay if we stayed at her dorm. She’s got that pull-out futon we gave her right?” Harry raised a brow as he looked at you.
Your mom looked at you. You hadn’t planned on any of this. And you supposed you didn’t mind too much but you hated that your mom and Harry would be sleeping in your dorm room just feet away from you. Not that Harry hadn’t stayed over before, but never with your mom. But what could you say?
“Uh… yeah. Sure. That’s fine.”
.           .           .
When you arrived at Poly’s many of your peers were already there. The three of you went to the bar and ordered beers before heading toward where the group was standing around.
Harry pulled at your elbow and whispered in your ear, “So is this what’s had you so busy these last few weeks? Couldn’t be bothered to make it home?”
You looked at Harry and frowned. He was really pushing it. You had been busy with school and part of that was the new club you’d joined but you were finally finding something of your own. You didn’t have anything you could call your own. Not even Harry was yours.
“Yes. It is. Is that a problem?”
Your mom greeted the professor and pulled you with her, saying something to Mr. Jensen that you weren’t sure of as you were too busy fuming at your stepdad.
It was hard to ignore what was going on as the night involved more drinks and laughs. You tried to push it down but Harry’s attitude was making you nervous. You saw him talking to the professor and then looking back at you at one point so you decided to join them both. Maybe you were too many drinks in but you weren’t going to stand there and let Harry make you feel bad for anything because you hadn’t done anything wrong.
You walked up to the side of Mr. Jensen and nudged him with your shoulder as you looked up at the man, “This is a great little get-together. We should do more of these!” You spoke loudly over the music and then looked at Harry who had a small devious smirk on his face.
“Yeah maybe. I could use a co-host for things like this you know,” he raised his brows at you as he spoke to indicate using your help at some point.
“That would be great!!”
Your mom joined the three of you and began to chat with the professor when Harry pulled you away into the hall and dragged you into one of the single bathrooms. His grip on your arm pinched as he closed the door and locked it behind you.
He caged you in, putting his arms on either side of your shoulders, “Tell me what’s going on with him.”
You laughed and shook your head. The truth was nothing was going on. He was a good teacher and mentor. You found him attractive but you weren’t attracted to him. And Harry was jealous, which you had always known about him, “Absolutely nothing is going on. You need to get a grip.”
Harry shook his head as he kept his sharp eyes on yours, “You haven’t been home in three weeks.”
“I’m in college.”
Harry sighed and backed away – moving himself toward the sink and leaning over the porcelain as he looked down, “I’m trying to be understanding and patient with you. I know you’re in college. I know you’re proud of this accomplishment,” he turned to look at you, “and so am I. You’re really good.”
You smiled, “Yeah? You think I’m good?”
Harry pushed himself from the sink and walked across the room to you, grasping the back of your neck and pressing his mouth over yours. His free hand held at your hip and his tongue slid against yours.
“You’re the best. My very good girl.”
You grinned and bit your lip as you leaned your forehead into his, “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
He closed his eyes and pushed his nose into yours before capturing your lips with his again.
Harry pulled back and moved his arms to your shoulders and rubbed, “I’m trying not to be jealous. I’m sorry.”
You blinked your eyes and stared at Harry. He was sorry? That was a first, “I missed you so much. You never have a reason to feel jealous. I’m yours, Daddy,” you smirked at him and he licked his lips before the right side of his mouth quirked up in a grin.
“I missed you a lot too, baby,” he moved his hand up to your jaw and his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.
It happened so fast. There was no time to lose and you knew you wouldn’t get another chance with your mom in your room later on. Your bottom was perched on the cool porcelain sink, legs spread, as Harry spit over your pussy, his fingers pulling at your thong for his access.
You were tugging at his hard cock and angling yourself toward him, “Fuck me, Daddy.”
Harry groaned at your words as he pushed his thick crown to your entrance and spit down over you again, needing the lube since you had no time to waste in getting nice and wet for him.
He pressed his cock in, the tight fit making you both moan. You kept yourself angled for him to slip in and out as you rubbed your clit and kept your eyes on his, “I need you. I missed you.”
Harry’s long cock was slowly working you up and making you wetter by the second – the sound of him plunging in was evidence of your increasing wetness.
“You’re mine, baby. Always,” he panted his words as he fucked into you hard.
You could tell he would come fast. You wondered how long he’d gone without sex. You didn’t want to think of him with your mom but you knew that they were married. But somehow, the idea that he hadn’t had sex since you left made you feel like you needed to take care of him, “Come inside of me, Daddy. Give me all your come. I need it. Want to feel you inside of me all night.”
Harry gritted his teeth and leaned one hand on the mirror behind you and his other he grasped the front of your neck as he kissed your mouth, his hips jerking into you, your body jolting at each thrust.
“Need you to come on Daddy’s cock first. Want to feel you fall apart then I’m gonna give you my load.”
You hastened your fingers and Harry squeezed the sides of your neck as you closed your eyes at the feel of him thick and warm inside of you, moving through your walls quickly and punching into your guts.
You gasped and panted quietly, knowing you needed to keep the noise to a minimum. The pounding of his body into yours on the sink was loud enough as it was.
“Fffuck! Please… come. Need to make you feel good. Want you to remember who you belong to…” Harry’s deep voice whispered as he began to lose rhythm. His sloppy thrusts were only egging you on.
You nodded and whined as your fingers slipped over your clit and your mouth dropped open. You pulsed and clenched over him as your orgasm peaked and Harry let out a loud moan as he finally released into you, no longer able to stop himself from orgasming when he felt your cunt squeezing him.
You held onto Harry with both hands once your clit was too sensitive to keep rubbing as he slowly thrust in and out, his come pouring into you, his chest heaving.
When he finally stilled he pushed his forehead to yours, “Holy fuck. I needed that, baby. Needed you.”
Your heart lurched. Your situation was fucked up. Vile. You were evil. So was Harry but you were in love. When he said things like he needed you it made you want to take him and run off somewhere no one would ever find you. Somewhere you two could be together without consequences. You imagined another life with him. One where your mom was married to someone else and you’d met him at one of his shows at some dingy bar and you could love him freely and have his babies…
“Let’s get back out there, Y/n. Sorry to rush. Don’t want to get caught,” he smoothed his hand down your thigh and kissed you as he helped you off the sink.
Dirty. Doomed.
And just like you were used to you both got away with something you shouldn’t have as you joined your mom for another drink at the bar. Hearts still pounding, muscles still reeling from use.
You looked around to see a couple of friends and your professor laughing and then over to Harry who was sitting on the other side of your mom with a small smile on his face as he looked down into his glass of whisky.
What a day it had been.
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pink-sparkly-witch · 5 months
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Spring in Fall
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Summary: Jensen Ackles has spent his whole adult life in front of the camera, but now he wants something more. Something he’s not been able to find yet: an omega to settle down with. When Y/N Y/L/N arrived on the set of Supernatural, the alpha may just find all he’s ever wanted – his true mate.
Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Female Omega!Reader
Rating: Teen
Bingo Square: Scent Bond for @jacklesversebingo
Warnings: Omegaverse, A/B/O dynamics (no smut or anatomy talk), fluff, scenting.
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: This WIP has sat unfinished for over a year. When I got the ‘Scent Bond’ bingo square for Jacklesverse, I just knew this would be the perfect fill and found my fluffy bone long enough to get this finished! I hope you love this absolute floof 😘
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Jensen was irritable. That much was obvious from the Goddamn moon. In fact, irritable was too polite a word for what he was. His ruts were no joke since he hit forty, knowing that his biology dictated he should’ve settled with a mate long before now. The problem was work always got in the way.
If it wasn’t sixteen hour filming days, it was every other weekend at conventions. If it wasn’t conventions, it was catching up on sleep; if it wasn’t sleep, it was an awards show, corporate event, or some other function he was obligated by contract to attend.
Jared had been lucky in finding his true mate on set, and Jensen always hoped the same fate might come to him, but so far, twelve seasons into the show, it hadn’t happened and his hope was starting to wain.
He couldn’t deny that he wanted what all his family and friends had. He was lonely—not that he liked to admit that out loud to many people. All that would achieve is a sudden string of blind dates that always ended in disaster.
The alarm on his phone went off with the reminder to buy a present for his nephew’s birthday, and when he registered the date, he frowned. Quickly, Jensen ran through the math in his head, and his frown deepened. He wasn’t due a rut for another week.
Then why was he so on edge?
“Mr. Ackles? They need you on set in five.” One of the PAs, Riley, he thinks, shouts through his trailer door.
“Alright, thanks,” Jensen calls back, trying to put it to the back of his mind for now. He had a job to do, and if Jensen was anything, he was a professional. He would never let personal issues bleed into his professional life.
Plus, they had a very important guest star for the next couple of months. Y/N Y/L/N had signed on for an eight-episode story arc, and everyone was excited. She was the most popular actress the network had ever had on their books. She was making waves in the acting world, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before she moved to a bigger network or the big screen and began cashing in on prestigious award wins.
Not only that, but Jensen had a massive crush on the beautiful omega, and Dean would be having a really good time with her sassy, sexy character for the duration of her time here. He knew it was unlikely that she’d be his true mate, but maybe, if he played his cards right, she’d at least go on a date with him, and things might work out for them. Plenty of couples he knew weren’t true mates and life was great for them.
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“Can you smell that?” Y/N asked no one in particular in the hair and makeup trailer.
“Smell what?” Jared asked from the hair chair.
“Leather, and…” she turned her head and sniffed again. “Sandalwood. Mmm, whiskey.” She felt her cheeks heat up and a tingle in her belly that wasn’t wholly unfamiliar to her; neither was the scent she was detecting. It smelled like home. “Spearmint, too?”
Jared smirked through the mirror at Frida, the hair lady, and Y/N caught the grin on the makeup lady, Tanya’s, face. “What?” she asked. Tanya just shook her head, her grin getting wider.
“Come on, Tanya! There’s something you’re not telling me! What is it?” she whined and pouted playfully.
“Jeez, don’t give me that look!” Tanya laughed. “Damn it! Or those eyes!” she stepped away, laughing harder, when Y/N pulled out the big guns. “You know, Jared, Y/N’s puppy eyes are better than yours!”
Jared laughed and mumbled something that sounded a lot like: “Jensen’s gonna be in so much trouble!” as he looked over at the confused omega, who was still subtly sniffing the air with an adorable frown on her face.
“Is it getting hotter in here?” Y/N suddenly exclaimed. “My God, it’s hot,” she fanned herself with her script, feeling the heat rise from her toes upwards as if she’d just sat in a tub filled with water that was too hot. “Can we open the door or something?”
“Sure, I got it,” Frida said as she left Jared in the hair chair and opened the door to the trailer. “Jensen!” she gasped as she opened the door and saw the green-eyed actor reaching for the handle. “You scared me!” she giggled and stepped back, allowing the tall alpha to enter the trailer.
As soon as Jensen stepped inside, he stopped short, his green eyes blown wide and pupils dilating at the sight of his famous crush sitting in what was usually his makeup chair. She looked beautiful with her big doe eyes as wide as his and her hands fidgeting in her lap.
“Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.
“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.
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Jensen stepped out of his trailer and took a deep breath of fresh air, frowning at the scent he caught on the wind. It smelled like home. Like The Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden in the springtime, to be exact. Cherry blossom, lilac and honeysuckle all mixed in with a hint of lavender, making his mouth water. But that was impossible. Except for the lavender, those flowers only appeared in the spring or early summer. It was October.
He didn’t think they’d have flowers on set for any reason, but he supposed that didn’t mean someone didn’t get sent a bouquet or something. The smell of lilac was unmistakable to him; his mom had a huge lilac bush in her backyard, and he’d grown up with it. He’d know that smell a mile off.
Shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts of home, he continued towards the set. He was really excited to work with Y/N, and he hoped she was as sweet and kind as he’d always heard she was. Nothing was worse than having professional respect for someone, meeting them, and finding their personality or attitude lacking.
Jensen spotted Rich across the lot and walked towards him to welcome him. The kind beta was directing again, and Jensen wanted to greet him properly and make sure he knew where to go if he needed anything. Not that Rich needed the reminder, but Jensen was nothing if he wasn’t a gentleman.
“Hey man, good to see you again,” Jensen said as he greeted Rich with a hug.
“Looking good, Jensen. How are you doing?” Rich asked.
“Ah, you know,” Jensen said simply. Rich was one of the few people who knew how desperate he was to find a mate, settle down and have a few pups of his own instead of always being the fun uncle.
“She’s out there, Jay. And I have a feeling she’s closer than you think!” he smirked.
“Ha!” Jensen scoffed. “You sound like Jared! He’s convinced Y/N’ll turn out to be my true mate!” he chuckled.
“Hey, I get why he thinks that! I remember all those nights in your trailer or apartment, and if you saw her on screen, you just froze and stared at her until she was off camera again!” Rich laughed heartily.
“Well, she’s incredibly beautiful. And I’m no worse with her than when you see Scarlett Johansson or Jared was with Nina Dobrev!” Jensen laughed.
“True, but your eyes glaze over, and you get this stupid smile, and…” Rich trailed off at his friend’s head tilt and look of sheer concentration.
“Can you smell that?” Jensen asked.
“Smell what?” Rich asked.
“It’s like a spring garden or something. I smelled it earlier and can’t get it out of–” Jensen whipped his head around and began stalking towards the hair and makeup trailer. Rich followed him, staying a safe distance behind the prowling alpha.
The alpha stopped in front of the trailer door and sniffed, purring low in his throat at finally finding its source. Just as he raised his hand to pull on the handle, the door whipped open, and his senses were assaulted with the most delicious and delicate scent he’d witnessed in his whole life.
Jensen stepped into the trailer, his gaze fixed on his celebrity crush, and felt the air being sucked from him as her Y/E/C eyes met his green ones, wide and submissive. “Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.
“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Jared grinned, raising his hands at the older alpha, showing he was no threat to them. The two women showed the same respect to Y/N, raising their hands as they left the trailer.
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“I think Jay just found his true mate!” Jared grinned, pulling Rich into a hug.
“He’s gonna absolutely hate that you were right. I hope you know that!” Rich smirked.
“Hell yeah! And I’m never gonna let him forget it!”
Rich chuckled as he pulled the walkie from his belt. “We got a code 143; I repeat, a code 143 is in progress. All filming is suspended until further notice. Ladies and gentlemen, Jensen Ackles has met his true mate in none other than Y/N Y/L/N. Over and out,” Rich spoke through the device and smiled, high-fiving Jared when they heard the cheers erupt from all over the lot.
“Alright, I’ll start with the phone calls. Have you got the numbers for Y/N’s family? I’ll let them know she’ll be off grid for a few days at least,” Jared asked Rich, who handed him a sheet of paper with her emergency contacts listed.
“I’ll get some betas to keep the parameter clear from here back to his trailer. The last thing we need is another alpha getting too close to Y/N. Or an omega to Jensen, for that matter. Then I better call the Network and let them know their golden boy and girl are officially off the market!” Rich chuckled.
“They’re gonna love that!” Jared laughed.
It’d been suggested to Jensen before by numerous executives that he and Y/N should meet and see if there was a spark, but Jensen was stubborn and said if they were meant to meet, it’d happen naturally. Apparently, so was Y/N. They’d heard a few times that it was the same response she gave them whenever they asked her about it.
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Once the door was closed, Jensen stepped towards her and kneeled at her feet. “Do you want this, Y/N? Want me?” he asked shyly. Yes, they were true mates, but he had a few years on her, and she might not want to settle with an older man. She might not want to settle at all. Being in the prime of her career might mean she wasn’t ready to start a family yet.
“Yes, Jensen. I want this… want you, Alpha,” she purred, placing her hand on his cheek and smiling softly. The gasp of pained relief from the big, strong alpha broke her heart, and she wondered if he’d been let down as many times as she had in the past or if it was more.
“Can I… uh… can I scent you, Omega, please?” Jensen asked quietly, and Y/N giggled at his cuteness. She’d always hoped she’d have an alpha with a softer side, and it seemed like she got one.
“Yes, Alpha. I’m yours now,” she said softly.
“Not quite,” his fingers rubbed softly over her mating gland. “But I intend for you to be mine very soon,” he smiled softly before slowly leaning forward and nuzzling his nose into her neck. His hot breath against her sensitive skin made Y/N shiver, and her body erupted in goosebumps. The intimacy of the gesture was overwhelming, and she felt tears sting in her eyes.
Jensen whined as he got in closer and breathed her in. “You smell so good, Omega. And so beautiful,” he whispered to her, gently placing his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her closer still. Y/N tilted her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling her nose into his mating gland, her neck still open, and began to scent him in return.
Within seconds, an overwhelming sense of tranquillity and contentment at being exactly where he needed to be rushed over him, and he had no idea if it was coming from him, her or both of them. And it was the most elating feeling in the world.
“Sweetheart, I could sit her for hours and do this,” Jensen whispered, placing the softest of kisses on her neck between each word he spoke. “But I wanna take you somewhere more private if you’ll let me.”
“Okay,” Y/N answered, a whine escaping her throat as soon as he pulled away from her. Jensen chuckled at her pout, stood, held his hand out for her to take, and pulled her protectively into his side when she was on her feet.
“What hotel are you staying in?” Jensen asked.
“I’m not. I’m staying with a friend. Her apartment is just outside the city,” Y/N responded.
“My place is closer. Is that okay with you? I’d rather we have complete privacy, but if it would make you feel better, we can go to my trailer or the place you’re staying,” Jensen spoke softly.
“Let’s go to your place, Alpha,” she beamed brightly, chuckling when Jensen purred in approval of her answer.
Stepping out of the trailer, Jensen pulled Y/N into his body and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The omega responded instantly, winding her arm around his waist and moving as close to him as their bodies allowed. The alpha smirked and puffed his chest with pride at hearing the wolf whistles from the crew, who’d gathered to wish the new couple well.
Jensen noticed his driver standing next to an SUV and headed straight towards him, determined to get them out of there as quickly as possible. He’d waited long enough for her and didn’t want to wait any longer. 
Helping Y/N into the car, Jensen quickly moved to the other side and climbed in beside her. He’d barely sat down when the omega slid over to his side and cosied up to him, burying her nose in his neck and scenting him contentedly. He purred, happy to finally have his omega in his arms, scenting her hair, allowing her aroma to mingle and settle in with his own, binding them together in a bond that would become unbreakable the instant he claimed her, which Jensen had every intention of doing before the sun came up.
“Forever starts now, Omega. You ready for it?” Jensen murmured into Y/N’s hair.
“I’ve never been more ready, Alpha.”
Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720
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Worth The Wait: Part One
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey so every one know that Jensen like Batman, so i have this ideas where the reader is Jensen wife and popular actress who is casted to play Cat woman with Robert Pattinson or other one and the reader never tell Jensen because she want to be a surprise or something like that and she bring him to the premiere where was the Batmobile and him was just fanboy? Fluffy between Jensen and reader 
Summary: You've been working on a movie you know Jensen will love to see, so you've managed to keep it from him until the world premiere. Now it's your chance to unveil the surprise.
Square Filled: hereditary for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)
Author’s Note: we're all gonna pretend that the movie Batman v Superman had Catwoman in it. okay? okay.
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This all started when your great-grandmother got scouted to be in short films in the early 1900s. Actresses weren't a big thing back then but someone took one look at her and knew she was meant to be on the big screen, whatever that meant back then. She was known all throughout the state as a big-time actress even though all the things she was in were silent films. She had a great facial profile that really embodied everything she was thinking and feeling. She started young but that’s what people did back then. They started their professions at a young age.
When your grandmother was born in 1934, your great-grandmother was already moving on to bigger and better things. She starred in the movie It Happened One Night, The Thin Man, and MGM’s musical/romance adaptation of Cat and the Fiddle. Those were just to name a few. Your grandmother saw what she was doing and wanted to follow in her footsteps, doing everything she could do be in television, the big screen, and in theater.
She got her big break when she got cast in Treasure Island and Fantasia with Disney. She got acting gig after acting gig until she had your mother in 1954. She took a few years off to be with her family but got right back into it. Your mother had a knack for theater and did her time on Broadway more than she did in film. She starred in musicals like Applause, Fiddler on the Roof, Annie, Sweeny Todd, and Grease.
She had you in 1989, and you started singing and acting at a very young age. You got into commercials and TV shows from the get-go. Probably because you come from a line of Tony, Oscar, and Emmy winners. You tried not to let your line of succession lead you to getting good parts, but you’ve managed to get a small role in Jurrasic Park as a child, and into much bigger roles in Charlie’s Angels, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Saw I, Avatar, The Hunger Games, and many more.
You worked your ass off to be where you are today, and you’re actually working on putting your own album out because you’re striving to be the first EGOT winner in your family. You’ve gotten one Tony Award, too-many-to-count Oscars, and two Emmy awards.
To think you were the shy theater kid who only sang in front of people if you were starring in a play at school. After graduation, you got into a good acting school even though you didn’t really need it, but you still welcomed the challenge they put you through, even starring in most of the plays there. Now you’re a thirty-five-year-old woman with awards like no other, a husband who is just incredible, and an amazing career that is nowhere close to being done.
Your husband is also an actor, a big one for Supernatural. He’s been nothing short of amazing and you’re so proud of him and his work. It sucked at the beginning of his career since you two barely saw each other but the longer you did this, the more you settled into your own groove. You got to take the time off to be with each other a lot more.
You get to go to conventions with him and he gets to go to movie premieres with you. There is nothing you’d trade for this little life of yours. Speaking of movie premiers, you just got done filming your movie Batman vs Superman where you played Catwoman, but you refused to tell your husband anything about it. He is a big Batman fan, and if you were to surprise him with a Batman premier, he’d go feral. Jensen respected you enough to not go snooping when he knew you wanted this to be a surprise, and his friends respected you enough to not tell him about it.
Jenson has been bouncing in his seat since he entered the limo, and you’ve been watching with a wide smile on your face. When the limo gets to the red carpet, Jensen gasps at seeing everything Batman.
“Surprise! I’m Catwoman!”
“You got to be in a room with Batman?”
You two leave the Limo and smile at the cameras flashing in your face. Jensen doesn’t care if he looks like a little kid, he is going to be excited over anything Batman (even though you’re a tad more of a Marvel girl than DC). You’re trying to get in on one of their projects so fingers crossed! There is a section before the red carpet where people can take pictures with a real-life prop of the Batmobile.
Jensen loses his shit and rushes over with a giant smile on his face. You don’t care if a million people are watching or if it’s just you two, but you’ll always love the way he gets excited over things. He gets his picture taken with the Batmobile alone and then with you, and you pull him off to the side with a smile on your face.
“Is this a good surprise? Was it worth the wait?”
“So worth the wait. This is amazing.” Jensen leans in to kiss you but stops with a gasp. “Is that Michael Keaton?”
Jensen’s favorite Batman is Michael Keaton.
“Yeah, he showed up on set a few times. He’s a nice guy!”
“I’m nervous. Should I go up to him?”
“Yeah. He won’t bite,” you chuckle.
You escort Jensen over to Michael who is more than happy to talk to your husband. He hasn’t been this happy and excited in a while, and you’re glad to be part of it.
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queermania · 1 year
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Wait wait wait. Jensen picked the writer who gave Dean a lesbian best friend and made him a nerd to be the show runner for his little fixit fic show? This is amazing!
when you look at robbie's run of episodes (that he wrote specifically, not produced or was the executive story editor on), a very specific version of supernatural and dean starts to emerge and it is insanity-inducing. here's a very brief rundown of the episodes robbie wrote:
slash fiction -swayze always gets a pass -dean singing air supply -"it's like eating self-righteousness' -the creation and introduction of frank devereaux -"applications for sainthood" -dean letting sam go
time after time -"what are you gonna look up more anime or are you strictly into dick now?" -dean being a nerdy little fanboy about eliott ness (and checking out a dude in a uniform but that was probably jacting joices) -dean getting excited about dressing up in period clothing!! -understanding that rufus matters and that family isn't just blood -original sam is milf!bait (and he's into it) truther -actually writing grief in nuanced ways -dean is smart and resourceful actually! -your future is "covered in thick black ooze" (which i know is just a very lucky coincidence but i don't care!)
the girl with the dungeons and dragons tattoo -CHARLIE!!! he gave us charlie. he said "actually what if hardcore fans were cool and fun and GAY and they were dean's new best friend" -charlie/dean/security guard flirting split screen -"she's kinda like the little sister I never wanted." "how does a high-school dropout become one of the brightest minds…" -basically this entire episode is just "be gay, do crime" and i love that for me specifically
bitten -not my favorite episode but as @ilarual says "it's very fun in how it illustrates Robbie's willingness to play with form, since it's all done as found footage" -and as @doctorprofessorsong says it "has the concept of monsters aren’t always bad guys" -and apparently it contains a brokeback reference? my memory of this episode is hovering at around 1% tbh but you get it
larp and the real girl -dressing dean up in little outfits AGAIN -and he likes it!!! -and he likes being a nerd! (dean is getting into it and sam is the one who is unamused mr serious guy!!!!) -and charlie is dean's new best friend! -"belladonna" "the pornstar?" -"did you break up with someone too?" -honestly you already know all of it. this is a fan favorite for a reason. what more can i say about this episode??
goodbye stranger -yes robbie was the first writer to try to give us a destiel love confession -cas practicing killing dean over and over and over and still not being able to do it when it comes down to it -"what broke the connection?" gee i wonder -first episode writing cas and he nailed the sort of unintentional deadpan humor that makes cas so lovable ("would it kill you to watch a movie? read a book?" "a movie, no, but with a book with the proper spells—yeah, it could theoretically kill me.") -"if he's so sketchy then why are you praying to him?" -pizza man reference -"do you really think we can trust megstiel?" (we get both megstiel and jealous!dean) -dean quoting lord of the rings (because he's a nerd! and he reads!) -meg roasting the shit out of sam for the amelia stuff -etc
pac-man fever -charlie reading the carver edlund books -charlie and dean being besties/getting a montage -dean telling charlie that what happened with her parents wasn't her fault/understanding the guilt she feels -"i love you" "i know" -"what about castiel? he seems helpful, and dreamy" -again, putting dean in little outfits -charlie knows how to shoot/aim a gun
slumber party -dorothy!! -oz!!! -look, is this episode cheesy? yes. but it's fun and it's so obviously a love letter to the oz source material and i love that about robbie. he does his research and he commits
first born -cain!!!! -drowley team up!!!!! ("friends. besties, actually." im sorry but drowley means so much to me personally and this is the start of their beautiful bromance) -"this is by far the dumbest idea you've ever had." "yeah, well, it's early" -cas liked pb&js!! jelly, not jam. he found jam unsettling!! -"you have a guinea pig? where?" -"you're a terrible liar?" "that is not true. i once deceived and betrayed both you and your brother." -just. sastiel shenanigans (and hugs!) -"she only asked for one thing." "to stop" -anyway. you get it.
meta fiction -dean and cas phone call smiles!! they LIKE each other -metatron media dump -"what makes a story work? is it the plot, the characters, the text? the subtext? and who gives a story meaning? is the writer? or you?" -i think it's important to note that robbie who wrote gabriel faking his own death -cas noticing something is wrong with dean pretty much instantly and then discovering the mark of cain
fan fiction -i mean. come on. -"although we do explore the nature of destiel in act two." -"you can't spell subtext without s-e-x" -sam being such a younger brother and trolling dean about "destiel" -"BM scene" -dean "you know they're brothers, right?"-ing the w*ncest stuff but just being flustered about the destiel stuff ayyyy -dean casually referencing andrew lloyd webber -"transformative fiction" -"i want you to put as much sub into that text as you possibly can" -dean quoting rent -the samulet is back! -"i have my version, and you have yours." -"he took away our own free will" <- about john!! -THE RETURN OF CHUCK!
there's no place like home -"i forgive you dean" "yeah well i don't" "i know, kinda your move" -"you hurt my friend" -"you lied to me" "you lied to yourself. that's kinda your move." -i mean. robbie just gets it, ya know?
book of the damned -cas being a huge bitch (love that) -sam being the excessively codependent one -cas and charlie get to meet! -found family goodness if only for a little bit!!
angel heart -ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!! -"i got it at the hot topical" (and claire keeping grumpy cat) -no seriously. dean and cas went birthday present shopping together for claire and they did it at a mall -castiel feeling guilt for what he did to the novak family (and amelia recognizing that cas has changed/grown) -"you were both troubled teens. you speak her language." -"bring your daughter to work day" -"i'm saying she might be stronger on her own." which is a controversial line but i think it says something really significant about how dean feels about his childhood "in fact you're not anything to her except a constant reminder of someone that's gone." -mini golf!!!!!! dean and claire bonding!!!! -the introduction of the grigori, a class of angels which may or may not be important at some point -claire roasting the shit out of dean with "you seem pretty old" <3 -"happy birthday. don't shoot me."
baby -do i really need to explain anything about this one? -"okay first of all, never use swayze's name in vain, okay? ever." -"mistakes were made" -dean having a dream about john teaching him to drive but under normal and appropriate circumstances -werepire…. ghoulpyre… -honestly just the whole episde. you know what i'm talking about. the unique perspective. the insight into their day-to-day lives. the moments that live in between.
into the mystic -eileen! my best friend eileen! -dean x mildred otp -remembering sam's lucifer/hell trauma -the whole "follow your heart" speech -"banshees go after the vulnerable, so why'd it go after you?" -dean recognizing there's something off with cas -but really the most important thing here is EILEEN
safe house -bobby and rufus!!!! -i repeat BOBBY AND RUFUS!!!! -"were you ever nice?" "1985. worst year of my life." -robbie just really GETS that this show is more fun when it's not centered entirely on the brothers. -bobby referring to sam and dean as his boys -timey wimey shenanigans -there were some interesting implications in this episode too but i'm losing steam here so i'm gonna let you rewatch and figure it out lol
don't call me shurley -the reveal of chuck as god!!!! -bisexual chuck -dean does sam's laundry (sometimes with beer) -chuck is a shitty egotistical writer -he also plays the guitar and: "i like front row seats. you know, i figured i'd hide out in plain sight." -"i thought if i could show my sister that there was something more than just us, something better than us, then maybe she'd change. maybe she'd stop being… her. but every time I'd build a new world, she'd destroy it." -"the world would still be spinning with demon dean in it but sam couldn't have that though could he?" -"you were gonna choose amara over me."
so. yeah. jensen chose THIS GUY to helm the winchesters. bold move, sir. full respect.
also, this tweet always makes me crack up
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one of us! one of us! one of us!
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bigtreefest · 2 months
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Chapter 3: Honey Trap
From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series
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Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader
Summary: A Farmer’s Market and Pouring out your heart over a beer leads to Bucky learning more about his favorite mysterious farmer
Content/warnings: mentions of previous heartbreak and descriptions, a surprising amount of crying/near-crying, soft mobster Bucky, Heartless Jake, Creepy Cole, mentions of blood/period (not graphic and should be normalized because this happens to me all the time and I know I’m not alone in that), excessive drinking and lowkey alcoholism, cowboy hat rule, mutual pining and reluctance towards that, y/n used like three times
Word Count: 5,295
A/N: I didn’t mean for this chapter to be this long, but also, I definitely meant for it to be this long. Sorry for making dear, wonderful, Jake Jensen out to be a bad guy, and NOT sorry for making Cole Turner a creep. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are SUPER appreciated. Thank you for reading, I love you *gives forehead kiss*
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >
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Bucky knew lots of languages. Country was not one of them. You would think it would be, with how many arms purchasers were from the south, but he kept his dealings with those folk as short and formal as possible. It was better for his sanity and everyone else that way.
He’d been running into a lot of country folk today, helping you run this farmer’s market out of one of your barns. Half of his conversations with people were full of twangy words and phrases he didn’t understand, so he just lightly laughed, hoping that was the right response. The other half were children, asking him what the bump was on the side of his head, the result of the bee incident earlier this week. Before, it was slightly swollen and red, but it was nearly back to normal. Darn kids have keen eyes, though, and no shame. He’d just about had enough. These people were too polite, besides their annoying children. Lucky for him, though, he’d sold off the last of the turnip greens, and his cash box was full, so he made his way over to you at the stand holding the freshly jarred honey you’d successfully, and he’d not-so-successfully harvested earlier in the week. It was just in time to catch the tail end of a conversation he saw you were having with a slightly older woman.
“You’re like our very own honeybee”
“Oh please, Mrs. Jensen, you know the bees do all the work. I just put it in a jar”
“You’re too modest, dear. My Jakey says no one makes sweeter honey than you. I always tell him to come back and help if he loves it that much, but it seems he’s too late now. Looks like you’ve got yourself a new farm hand who’s easy on the eyes”
Bucky glanced up at her through his eyelashes with his signature smirk, raising to a stand from setting the empty turnip green crate at your feet. “Well you know what they say, honeybees don’t work alone. And their hard work makes the world go round.”
For some reason unbeknownst to him, Bucky slung his hand over your shoulder. Was it jealousy he was feeling? Possessiveness? Why, he didn’t own you and he promised himself he wouldn’t fall, physically or metaphorically (although it was far too late physically, and he didn’t want to think about how close he truly was metaphorically). Plus, it’s not like he was having the best time right now. This whole week was a nightmare, and the only reason he was in a decent mood was from seeing your smile as you interacted with the town’s folk today. You were a person of the people, in juxtaposition to how Bucky was often only looking out for himself. So why did the mention of Jakey make this feel necessary and why did it feel so right? Either way, he was proud of you and your hard work and the way it made people beam as bright as Mrs. Jensen. But he’d never say that. Where he’s from, hard work is expected and definitely not praised, although not nearly as manual. But seeing all the effort for that couple jars of honey made him question if the work he was even doing was that hard. Maybe he’d been away from the city too long and was losing perspective. Yeah. That had to be it.
“Well, either way, bless y’all’s heart for putting in the work. I’ll tell Jake you say hello.”
You and Bucky both waved goodbye.
“Well how about it Honeybee, Jakey appreciates all your hard work” he smirked, but watched the smile slide off your face.
“Try telling me that with our awful breakup years ago” you shrugged off with a small chuckle, but Bucky could see the light drain out of your eyes a little. He had obviously struck a nerve, but didn’t want to push farther, at least not now when there were still a few customers aimlessly shopping around for the last bits of produce left. Maybe he’d catch you once the two of you were alone.
You turned away from him to hide your grimace. Thinking back to that whole situation with Jake, on top of serving others all morning had completely drained you and it was quickly catching up.
“Um, why don’t you finish cleaning up the rest of the empty crates after you ask those last few people how you can help them with anything” you waved off Bucky back towards the other end of the barn, head down, starting to look through the cash box he had handed you. You waited until you could hear his receding footsteps on the hay floor to sniffle and take a deep breath. Bucky had keen ears, though, and hesitated hearing your sigh, before he continued on, giving you your chance to regroup. He had never seen you like this before, you were normally chipper and full of energy, often a little too much for his liking, but luckily it was Friday, and after he closed these deals, you both were home free.
Bucky quickly helped the last few stragglers take their rather large haul back to their car. An older man and woman who owned the bar in town had come to get some fresh vegetables for their salads, and Bucky convinced them to take the lot with his charm. That, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t have to carry them all the way back to storage. That was a long way, and you made him walk it. He rolled his eyes when you had told him about the task, too, handing him the handle to a little red wagon with a beaming smile on your face, insisting “that’s how Pappy did it before his first tractor” and “what did you think, I like wasting diesel for food that’s supposed to have a low carbon footprint? That’s why I’ve got you, Bucket.” So Bucky grumbled under his breath at first light, angry, yet amused that the nickname stuck, but still too tired to react any differently when he started the first of his dozen trips to move the produce from storage into the farmer’s market barn. And there was no way he was gonna do that again, so he convinced the couple to take the lot, even offering to carry it out to the car for them, because that was better than the quarter mile walk both ways through the tall grass of your fallow fields to return them.
“Thank you so much for your help, Jamie. You’ve taken such good care of us, you should come by the bar later if you can get some free time from Miss Y/L/N over there. She’s quite the hard worker, maybe bring her along. Drinks on us.” The older lady looked at Bucky with a soft smile.
Jamie, no one had called him that since his mom. Country folk and their want for instant closeness. He hardly knew this lady and already she was trying to be endearing, but her forced charm was nothing compared yours even when you weren’t trying. She looked over Bucky’s shoulder at you carrying a stack of heavy wooden crates out of the barn, hardly struggling, but very determined before sliding them back into the truck. Bucky’s eyes followed hers, a small grin of admiration creeping onto his face at your independence and mastery at everything you do, no matter how simple.
“Yeah, hardest worker out there. I’ll see if I can convince her to take a break.” He turned back and walked the lady to her door, opening it for her to get in.
“Drive safely. Hope to see you later Mr. and Mrs. Carter.” He shut the door and made his way back over to your truck. You had already gotten in and started it with the windows down. Bucky slid into the bench seat to be met by you with your forehead resting on the wheel in between your hands. You took a sharp inhale and shot up, putting on a fake smile, albeit less forced than earlier.
“Ready to go meet Curtis? We’ve just gotta touch base with him and then we’re good to be done for the day.”
“Um, yeah. Sounds good.”
Bucky wasn’t sure how to continue with you in that mood. Should be keep talking? Did you prefer the silence to think? The radio was low on the dash, but not silent, so he decided to speak up.
“Did you see who I was helping? They said they own the bar in town. Maybe we can go for a drink tonight? Celebrate a long week done?”
You sighed. Again. “Um, yeah. I actually think that sounds really good. We both need the decompression. TGIF, ya know?” You forced out a small laugh which Bucky returned and he turned forward as you continued the drive back toward your house.
When the two of you entered the farmhouse, your were greeted by Curtis, your weekend farmhand, sitting at the dining room table. He had already helped himself to a glass of sweet tea you kept in the fridge, mainly for him, which was made from your Aunt’s recipe he loved so much.
“Oh, good, you’re back from chores already.” Curtis had been kind enough to come in today to work on some tasks since you and Bucky had your hands full with the market. He usually only worked Saturday and Sunday since this was his second job, but he’d sometimes come in to help extra, like today.
“Bucket, this is Curty b—oh sorry, Curtis. He’s the one that makes sure things run smoothly when I’m not. He’s a whiz at fixing the machinery, perks of him also being the best mechanic in town.”
Bucky warily stepped forward, eyes narrowed, barely noticeable, and shook Curtis’s hand. Who is this guy who let himself into your house? “Bucky is fine, really.”
Curtis let out a chuckle, “nice to meet you, Bucket. It’s ok, I talked to Y/N about making cheese curds once, and she’s called me ‘Curty boi’ ever since.”
Bucky laughed and shook his head, looking over his shoulder. You just shrugged with a small smile on your face, already more relaxed and relieved to be inside your home with someone you didn’t feel like you had to put up a front for, that was reassuring. Bucky went into the kitchen to get you both a glass of water as you sat next to Curtis at the table, joined by Bucky sitting across after he handed you your glass. The three of you briefly talked about the chores Curtis had done that day, how the farmer’s market went, and what all needed done that weekend.
Curtis seemed nice, not threatening. The visceral tinge of jealousy left Bucky’s body as the conversation went on. If Curtis was going to make a move, he would’ve done it by now, surely. But the two of you were clearly just close friends. Why did Bucky keep feeling like this?
As you wrapped up, Curtis slapped his knees with both his hands and went to stand. “Well, I better get going, sun’s starting to get pretty low.”
Curtis and Bucky had been getting along pretty well, so you spoke up. “Well actually, Bucky and I were gonna go to the bar in town tonight. Care to join?”
“Yeah, I’d love to. There are just a few things I’ve gotta check on in the shop first, but I can drop by after. Does that work?”
“For sure. We’ll see you then” You and Bucky shared a small smile before you closed the door behind Curtis and turned back to the mob boss standing in your foyer.
“Ok, Cowboy. Good job today. Go take a shower, we’re going out.” Bucky beamed, which you returned, and he felt a warmth bloom in his chest at your praise.
“Yes, ma’am, Miss Honeybee” you smiled and rolled your eyes as he ran up the steps, following behind to get ready, yourself. He was really glad your mood was starting to turn around.
As Bucky went to his room to gather his clothing, his mind started to drift towards why he cared how you felt. He was just here for business, right? So why did it bother him if you were sad? If anything, he should want you vulnerable to help him come out on top of your business, but something deep inside of him felt more satisfaction when you were winning. He shook the thoughts from his head. Maybe a cold shower could help him sort this out.
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Bucky came down the stairs and sat on the couch just as he heard your hair dryer start up. He had gotten ready quickly, throwing on one of his henleys, his nicer jeans, and a pair of boots Sam had sent him this week when he had heard about the whole ‘borrowing clothes situation.’
He shot Steve a text, telling him that the two of you were going out to the bar with Curtis, to which he replied Have fun, Bucket😉.
Ugh, why did he have to tell Steve about that, it was never gonna go away now. Bucky had gotten a call from Steve each evening giving updates on the business, with Bucky doing the same on his end, keeping it short, only noting the highlights and trying to keep his emotions in check and out of the updates. His best friend knew better, though, even if Bucky wasn’t fully aware of the extent of his feelings yet.
Bucky got up and walked around, looking through the photos and knick knacks in your living room, before stopping by the mirror behind your front door and checking his appearance. This look wasn’t what he was used to. He was extremely dressed down compared to the designer suit he’d likely be sporting in one of his clubs if he were back in the city. He hadn’t even bothered to gel his hair because it seemed you didn’t care when he did, plus, he wanted to save that valuable product for a real occasion, no use in wasting it to go slum with a bunch of hillbillies. He looked to the coatrack next to the mirror to see a hat that matched his boots perfectly and plopped it on his head, swaying side to side to see how it looked.
Just then, you started to make your way down the stairs but stopped in your tracks seeing Bucky in that hat. His head snapped up to look at you.
“What? Does this hat make me look dumb?”
You smiled and shook your head.
“No, not at all” Bucky could see tears well up in your eyes, accompanied by sparkles of fondness and, sadness?
“That was my uncle’s hat. He taught me everything I know”
“Oh, I’m so sorry” Bucky went to take the hat off but you stopped him.
“No- it’s okay. It looks good on you. Go ahead and wear it out tonight.”
Bucky looked back at you with a somber nod as you continued back down the stairs, taking a deep breath to settle the emotions that had nearly breached the surface.
Even in this state, you looked gorgeous. Hair flouncing in the breeze that was created as you drifted down the steps, wearing makeup he hadn’t seen since the first time you two had met and a sundress that blew him away. You were gorgeous in all states because you were you. Bucky looked down, kicking his feet, to pull his magnetic glance from you. He’s really gotta switch up the power dynamic here, and if there was one place Bucky could feel at home after a week of embarrassing himself, it was a bar. He grabbed the keys and you followed with an eye roll, getting into the passenger seat of your own truck. He didn’t even know where he was going, but he looked at you with a sly grin. Like for the first time, he had the upper hand, and that would only come from being anywhere but on your farm.
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Bucky was a good driver, despite his statements about some guy named ‘Gio’ and grumbles about Sam, who you had met once before. Besides that, the drive was filled with laughs reminiscing all the mishaps he went through that week, well, mostly you laughing, and Bucky doing his best to hold a smirk from showing too obviously, his eyes narrowed at you in contrast.
The two of you pulled into town as you pointed Bucky towards a decent-sized building which housed the bar, still nothing compared to what he was used to. The two of you hopped down from the truck and walked through the front door, which jingled, signaling your entrance.
Bucky was greeted by the smell of old wood and stale beer, the dim atmosphere lit with old neon beer signs and fluorescent lights which hung over the pool tables. You looked back at Bucky as you crossed the threshold where he held the door for you.
“Hey, all I’m saying is, I bet you wouldn’t last a week in my world the way I did in yours.”
You rolled your eyes as you sauntered up to the bar, taking a seat at the corner, Bucky next to you, and a few more empty seats to the other side of him that would hopefully stay that way until Curtis came. As the two of you had walked up to the bar, you had seen a bunch of girls groups whose heads turned, seeing the stranger that was Bucky make his way across the floor. Why couldn’t he be ugly? And why did you let him wear that hat? Bucky didn’t even notice. His eyes were only on you, besides his trained peripheral vision catching the eyes of men whose heads turned towards, doing the same.
“Oh please, Bucket, you hardly made it through this week. I’ve never seen anyone cut their finger on wheat before. How did you even do that? You were literally up on the tractor… wheat should not have been anywhere near your hands, yet you came to me with several paper cut-looking marks. And what do you even do all day? Your hands have calluses but a totally different kind. You can hardly toss a hay bale a story high into the barn loft. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for me to just sit at a desk, bark orders, and sign paperwork all day.”
Bucky’s mouth gaped open as he feigned offense and put his hand on his chest.
You flashed a fleeting smile at him in satisfaction as you waved down the
bartender ordering two shots of whiskey and two beers.
“Now just because that’s all you’ve seen me do for work, doesn’t mean that’s all there is to it.”
“Oh really? Please, Bucket, then be my guest…indulge me.”
“Well, if I told you, I’d have to kill you, so take that as one of the common requisites.”
He smirked at you, obviously more comfortable in this bar environment before your phone dinged and it was a message from Curtis.
Hey Y/N. So sorry, something came up at the shop. Rain check?
Yeah, no problem. Hope all is good, see you tomorrow?
Yep! Ty
“Well, looks like Curty boi isn’t joining us, so it’s just you and me, Bucko”
At that moment, the bartender set down the drinks in front of you and you and Bucky took a shot together, ordering an appetizer sampler platter to go with your drinks.
As the two of you nursed your beers, you joked more about Bucky’s farm mishaps and talked about all the men you had turned down from Bucky’s organization to get him out here.
“I’ve gotta be honest, I don’t know how you turned down both Sam and Steve. I’m hardly immune to their charms some days”
You laughed and threw your head back. “It’s not easy. They’ve both got these puppy dog eyes they make when I say ‘no’ to them, but they seemed pretty satisfied with the fact I wanted to see you in person.”
“And why exactly was that? You never quite said”
“Well, at first, it started as a way to delay the deal, but then I realized, if I’m going to be making some major changes to somewhere I consider a sanctuary, I wanna make sure it’s with the right partner” you nudged him with your elbow playfully and Bucky gave you a small grin. “But honestly, if I’m going to do something these days, I wanna do it at the source. I hate hearing important news from third parties, I mean, you’ve seen how I do business. It’s all me at the end of the day. Sure, Curtis helps out, but otherwise, it’s better to deal with things on my own and a few trusted people” you finished that statement breathless from your heated ramble. This didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky at all. Where did that come from? At first, to him, you were just another bug to be squashed in order to get more control over his industry, but did he care now? Did he truly care about what was upsetting you? What caused that hurt you were obviously tampering down? Does this have to do with Jakey?
Bucky hadn’t realized he said that last part out loud until you responded.
“No! Well, maybe? Like, sort of?”
“Can I ask? Can I ask what happened there? Only if you want to share”
“Um… yeah, sure, I guess. You’ve embarrassed yourself enough this week so I think you’ve earned this a little bit.”
You took a deep breath and began. “Jake and I grew up together. We met in kindergarten in school and were instantly close. We were the only two gifted kids in class, so the teacher sent us to the side for extra lessons while the rest of the class learned with her. From that point on, we were inseparable. Two smart little twerps who took on the world together, but our lives were so different. In middle school, I started to take on more responsibility on the farm and he started getting into computers, but we’d still see each other. In high school we started officially dating, and I was so happy to be with someone who I felt like intellectually got me. I think it was the same way for him, too. He’d crack such nerdy jokes, and no one got them but me”
You smiled nostalgically at the memory. “When our senior year came along and my uncle wasn’t doing that well, I applied to more local schools, but he didn’t. We had always talked about going off to college and living together, but he wanted that life to be far away from here, and I had obligations. I got into the local college on a full ride for agriculture and civil engineering, and he decided he’d rather go to MIT for computer science. I asked if he’d be willing to stay since he got into college around here, too, but he said he wanted to be around people who were ‘more like-minded to him.’ As if we hadn’t been the only ones who had understood each other for over a decade.”
Bucky gave you a sullen look as your head fell and you looked down at your hands. He signaled to the bartender for a water and two more rounds of shots.
“I just, I just didn’t understand how he could act like that after so long. So I asked him when he was leaving so I could see him off. We were still friends, after all, but he left without a word. When I saw him again over Christmas break that winter, I felt like he had turned into some overweening, highfalutin, jerkwad. I didn’t really know him anymore, and I had enough to focus on already, so I just kinda stopped talking to him. As you could see today, his mom still comes around, but it’s not really the same. I don’t think she ever really truly saw the way he changed, she’s too caught up in having a son who lives in Silicon Valley now, but apparently he still asks for stuff from the farmers markets.” You shrugged and thanked the bartender for the shots, pounding all four before you excused yourself to the restroom, leaving Bucky to sit there shocked.
He had known where you went to college and how smart you are, but things like what happened with Jake don’t show up on paper. However he clocked you before, you were even stronger than that, because despite how you were hurt, you still wore your heart in your sleeve and showed compassion to everyone around.
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You washed your face and looked in the mirror. Sure, that experience with Jake sucked, but it’s been years and you were over it now. Didn’t mean it was fun to relive it all. You decided to go into one of the stalls, the alcohol already kicking in and making you have to pee. You sat down and that’s when you saw it: blood. So that’s the reason for the waterworks all day today. That’s why you felt so tired and couldn’t help tearing up at the slightest things. Luckily the girl in the stall next to you had some products. You cleaned up and washed your hands, forcing a smile in the mirror until it became real, honestly relieved at having a reason for your out-of-character behavior. You headed back out to Bucky in a much more chipper mood and he looked up at you with a quirked brow. He figured you’d taken the time you needed. He was appreciative of you being so open with him, and wasn’t going to question the switch-up since he was just so happy to see you being yourself again after a long day.
“Up for a game of pool, cowboy?”
“Oh, you’re signing up to lose, Honeybee”
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“Ok, ok, best four out of seven” Bucky whined as you giggled, whiskey shots catching up to you as you held another beer bottle in your hand. Bucky was hardly affected, he essentially rocked this much alcohol in his system by noon on a daily basis. Just then, his phone rang, and he motioned to show you it was Steve. You gave him a thumbs up and started to rack the balls to set up for the next game.
You watched Bucky walk out the door as you felt a presence looming behind you. You turned around and stood up, eyes tracing up a body dressed in brown hues until you reached a set of blue eyes shaded by a cowboy hat brim.
“Oh, howdy, can I help you?”
“I sure hope so. Can I get you a drink? Two whiskey sours” the stranger yelled over to the bar.
“Oh, uh, thanks.”
“My name’s Cole, Cole Turner. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”
He was handsome, there was no denying that, but something seemed off. You plastered your best fake smile on your face. You didn’t need a confrontation tonight, not in your favorite dress. You didn’t want to taint the memory of it because of some rando. Wait. Was he a rando? Where have you heard the name ‘Turner’ before? Before you could continue your train of thought, a waiter came over with your drinks. They were very sweet compared to what you’d had all night, just like his demeanor, which seemed like a thin veil over the surface. You tried to channel your drink’s energy into your words to sweetly reply until you could properly remember who he was through your alcohol-fogged mind.
“Oh, I’m not here alone. I’m here with a friend”
“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I don’t see anyone around. You up for a game?”
Before you could even open your mouth to respond, he grabbed a pool cue and made a move to break. After that, he was keeping a little too close to you constantly. You did your best to stay kind, but must’ve been sending the wrong signals as he asked you “You wanna get out of here? I’ve got a hotel room down the road.”
In an attempt to change the subject you asked “Oh, so you’re not from around here? What are you doing in town?” Looking towards the door hoping Bucky would be done with his update any minute now.
“Ah, I used to live around here. My family owns a string of dairy farms. I’m here to try and convince these small-town farmers to give up the land.”
Your eyes went wide. Luckily you were facing away from him. He was that Cole Turner. The one whose family ran a packaged beverage empire and prided themselves on squashing the little guy. You were lucky he didn’t seem to recognize you yet, as the last remaining competitor in town. The one he had probably come in to squash. Just then, lost in thought, you felt a hand snake around your waist and you flinched.
“Relax, Honeybee, it’s just me” Bucky whispered in your ear. Your shoulders visibly relaxed as you turned around and threw your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. You pulled away, but not enough for Bucky’s hand to leave your waist, and looked between the two men, grabbing Bucky’s hat and placing it on your head immediately.
“Uh, James, this is Cole. He’s visiting town.”
Bucky reached out his hand Cole shook it. Cole took a large step back after, respecting the hat on your head, and, was he intimidated by Bucky’s stature? Sensing your discomfort, Bucky spoke up. “Nice to meet you. Shame we’re heading out now.”
You grabbed Bucky’s hand, not looking back, and headed straight to the door as quickly as your numb, wobbly legs would take you. Once you were met by the cool, crisp night air, you sighed in relief and rested your forehead on Bucky’s shoulder.
“Thank you for helping me get out of there”
He shuddered at your proximity and the comfort you felt in this type of contact. It felt natural and he never wanted it to stop. With a soft smile and a glance at the top of the hat, he said, “No problem, Honeybee. Let’s get home.”
He helped you get up into the cab of the truck, sliding you across the bench seat before he got in and started it up.
“So what was the deal with the hat? And that guy?”
You yawned and stretched, settling in against Bucky’s shoulder.
“Uh, when a girl takes a guy’s hat and puts it on her head, it means she’s going home with him. And don’t worry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just wanted that guy to get off my back. We can talk more about that later.”
You wiggled to get more comfortable, your hand still in Bucky’s as he used the other to steer the truck down the old country roads. Your eyes fluttered shut as you fell asleep on him. His eyes flickered between you and the road in the headlights ahead. He luckily had a good sense of direction and was able to remember how to get home from your instructions earlier.
When he pulled into your gravel driveway, your were sound asleep, softly snoring, drool having dripped onto his Henley, but he didn’t mind at all. He lifted you out of the truck and carried you up the steps, taking off your boots before tucking you into bed for the night.
Next >
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Bonus A/N: so where I’m from, “Turner’s” really is a beverage empire and they make really good products. I just figured I can’t make a farm AU without putting Cole in it, no matter how inaccurate to character.
Series taglist:
@scuzmunkie
@openup-yourmind
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jamneuromain · 10 days
Note
Hello,
Congrates again Sweetie, you really deserves it ❤️
I don't know how many asks we can send and I had so many ideas of combinations
I am sending two of them depending on what's inspiring you. If both of them inspire you, it's even better. 🤭
🥳😶❤️ Steve Rogers
👇🕯😈 Jake Jensen
Good luck 😘
Okay this is definitely a brain teaser
but still, I'm going to go with 🥳😶❤️ Steve Rogers, because this reminded me of an idea I once had...
Disguise
Captain America!Steve Rogers x You
Warning: A little cursing but that's all.
Summary: It's your first mission, and Captain America has told you to disguise yourself. You've followed that order to a "T".
A/N: Hiya! Sorry it took so long to get it out :( I have to say, originally I wanted to write a short drabble where Steve was teaching her a lesson, but then I wondered, why is she on this mission in the first place? and I can't control this drabble which turned into a ~2k one-shot....
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"... and the last item on our agenda," Maria took a brief stop from her briefing and looked around the room like a hawk, scanning everyone with her sharp eyes until they landed on the selected few, "congratulations on our fellow analysts who have applied for the field agent assistant position and passed the final test."
With a few claps from the fellow analysts, she paused again, waiting until the claps died down before quickly gathering her thoughts and assigned a few missions to three other analyst/field agent assistant, "And Y/N, I will brief you for your next mission, please stay for a few more minutes after this meeting. The rest of you, keep up the good work. You are dismissed."
It had been an eventful six months with all of your trainings - basically starting up from the ground up, no previous experience being an agent whatsoever - but you made it till the end, even though barely passing all the bars that are required for a field agent assistant. You felt very lucky as field agent assistant only requires 60% of what full-time agents can achieve, and watching your once muscle-lacking arms and legs, now turned out to be somewhat of an amateur wrestler, half of a professional boxer, and a sprinkle of assassin (thanks to Clint for his dart training).
You felt good about yourself. Truly, good.
Maria handed you a slim brown folder with a few pages in it. Opening it with sheer curiosity, you hear Maria picking out a few important points to brief: "There is rumored to be a highly dangerous neurotoxin in the black-market with more than a dozen buyers interested. This mission would be an undercover job in Venice, where the said toxin would be sold to the highest bidder."
The first page had a few sentences of what the said toxin could do. It evaporates soon but kills just as quickly. Victim's skin turned purple in contact with this chemical, looking as if they had suffocated to death. Word on the street? It was responsible for the terrorist attack in Paris last month.
"You would be posing as Mrs. Anna Dashevsky, wife of Mr. Vlad Dashevsky, the notorious couple of wreaking havoc: the train accident in Germany, the bombing in L.A., and a few other dozen of suspected murders and attacks. We have apprehended them both from their Belarus safe house twenty-four hours ago, safe to say that your cover would not be blown since the auction is fully anonymous." Maria had her skeptical look on you, her cold voice brought chills to your spine, "Unless of course, you got made."
"No, I won't, Ma'am." You replied on instinct, knowing fully well that the danger of arms dealers and terrorists gathering in such an auction could possibly be the end of your career - and your life as well, which was why you took a glance at the page of Mr. and Mrs. Dashevsky, making a mental note of the couple's information.
"Good. I shall hope not." Maria gestured you to turn the file to the next page, "You would be working with an Avenger for this mission. Your task is to provide tactical analytic support on the ground. Locate the position of the toxin, get it out, our team would be picking you up two miles south of the venue -" She pointed to a red cross marked on the map, "which is this bridge. If you missed the rendezvous, retreat to the safehouse." Her fingers tapped the red circle on the corner of the map, "Proceed as Protocol 4-12 Agent in Distress."
You scanned over the map to remember the extraction routes, noticing that these are the only pages in the thin folder, "There's no teammate information - am I going in there as Anna alone, or ...?"
Maria shook her head lightly, "You would be greeted by your teammate once you land in Venice, and your teammate would be posing as Vlad, your husband - I noticed you've got a B+ in Russian?" Seeing that you've nodded in confidence, Maria continued, "Good. Practice your Russian, might be handy. Your flight takes off at Runway Charlie in thirty minutes, I'd suggest you head off to the equipment room right now for the gadgets."
"Yes, Ma'am." You dared not linger a second more and headed straight to the equipment room.
First mission on the ground. You could not be more excited.
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Turned out, you could. When the famous Captain America greeted you once your plane had landed on a small airstrip in the outskirt of Padova. Where he was leaning by a smooth silver sedan with a fake nose and a fake moustache.
You almost did not recognise him until he spoke.
"Steve." He introduced himself briefly, extending his hand for you to shake. Didn't take much to know the only one named "Steve" existing in the Avengers team was Steve Frigging Rogers, Captain America himself, the golden boy of the States, and the man with the plan.
"Hi! I'm Anna." You put down your briefcase of trinkery, took his hand and shook with a firmer grip than you had imagined. "Well, my name isn't Anna," You smiled apologetically, "It's ..."
"I know, Y/N." He chuckled, opening the car door for you, gesturing for you to sit, "I've got the files Maria sent. We'll talk on the way."
Yeesh, such gentleman. You bit back the grin and sat in the passenger's seat, while he put the case into the backseat.
The drive from Padova to Venice took about forty minutes, during which he briefed you the latter half of the information required. You switched to one of those little boats - which Italian name you still couldn't pronounce - on entering Venice, by that time you were picking up something casual to talk about, just in case the toxin seller had eyes and ears around the potential buyers.
"First time leaving the office, huh?" He teased you lightly, rubbing small circles around your shoulder blade, pretending to be intimate as he spoke softly.
"Yeah." You murmured, clasping and un-clasping your hand due to obvious nervousness, "It's the first time, well ... ever."
"It's okay." Steve smiled warming, practically glowing kindness when he offered to soothe your nerves, "I'd say you would forget about it ..." He shrugged, "But then I would be lying. Truth is, it's always frightening for the first time, but you will be fine." Steve beamed at you, scratching his fake nose, which you thought must be some kind of silicone that created authentic skin-like appearance, "Just give it time."
Your destination was the safehouse marked on the map. After Steve tipped the boat guy generously, he made sure no one was lurking before tugging a key out of his pocket and opened the door.
Maybe it was your expression that betrayed you, because Steve read something from your looks and grinned, "You want to ask me something? Go ahead."
You're that obvious? But you decided it was best to follow orders.
"This safe house doesn't look so ... safe." You commented, "How are we supposed to defend ourselves, if it comes to ... you know," you chuckled drily, "shooting and stuff?"
Steve seemed stunned for a moment, before really taking a good look at the plain wooden floor and the almost ancient decor in the kitchen, the rusty oven, the missing cabinet door, the whole lot suggesting this place hadn't been set foot in years.
"What, this?" His brows furrowed into a knot, as if seeing completely different things.
You nervously waited for his reply.
"Oh..." Realization hit him as he slapped himself on the forehead, pressing a button below the kitchen table, "You mean ... this."
The noise of machine operating out of nowhere startled you, almost immediately sent you into a defensive position. But as the old crappy oven flipped to the other side and showed an array of guns, bullets, knives, and tasers, the dusty kitchen table pulled the planks to its side and revealed a huge tactical screen, and the fireplace tugged a secret passageway open for an escape route, your jaw fell on the floor.
"I might have told Tony about the whole disguise idea for the safe houses and uh," Steve chuckled, "He and Bruce took it way too seriously. Probably got a bit carried away too."
"One little problem, though," You raised your index finger and swiped a line along the greasy stove, making a face, "I don't think there's anything we can find here to eat ...?"
"Don't worry about that." Steve waved his hand dismissively, "We won't be here more than an hour before heading to the auction place. There's a full wardrobe and weaponry upstairs, first door on the right - but I'm sure you have already got plenty in your case - But by all means, take half an hour to adjust, rest, grab what you need, and I want us out of here by an hour. That sounds good?"
"Good. Okay. Thumbs up." You confirmed and headed upstairs with your suitcase, only to close the bedroom door and squeal into your palms.
O.M.FUCKING.GEE!
Captain America. In the living flesh!
On your first-ever mission!
Three soft knocks came through the thin wooden door.
"You alright in there?"
"I'm okay Cap - I mean, Vlad!" You called out, realizing as soon as you spoke that your voice was hoarse than usual.
"Careful there. The wardrobe door is on the left-hand side. Give me a shout if you need anything."
After that, small trotting noises, probably from the footsteps of Steve Rogers going downstairs.
Left-hand side? You eyed the dusty place curiously, poking and prodding the moldy wallpaper. You didn't see any wardrobe, other than -
Your nail bore contact with a piece of metal, from which a grey-ish camera leapt out of the wall, and nearly hit your hand.
It scanned your face, before emitting that rumbling Transformer noise again, revealing a wall full of weapons, money, and of course, clothes and wigs for disguises.
You gasped at the brand-new Magnums on the wall. You took your word back. This was the safest house in the fucking galaxy.
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"Ta-da-" You walked down the stairs, "What do you think, Ca - Vlad?"
Steve had his gaze pinned on you for a moment. His expression was close to blank, which was giving you a hard time figuring out what he was thinking.
"Am I overdoing it?" You clenched the collar of your coat nervously, "Anna - I mean, I came from a Slavic root, so this is ... alright? No?"
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the corner of his lips from the uncontrollable grin. "I would say, that this outfit is ... " He tried hard not to laugh, "It's good, great. Could use a few ... improvements, though."
You were wearing a thick fur coat and a fur hat, sunglasses too, dressing up like a polar bear rolled over in red and brown paint.
"Just because the Dashevsky's are from Slavic roots doesn't mean we have to dress up as good-ole fashioned Russian villains." Steve helped you take off the thick fur coat, smiling to himself, "We still have some time. Care to go through Disguise 101 with me?"
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holylulusworld · 8 months
Text
Ladybug
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Summary: You believed he’s a nerd but in truth, he’s a force of nature.
Pairing: Jake Jensen x fem!Reader
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, unprotected sex, consensual degrading, sex against a window
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“Fuck, look at my filthy whore,” Jake growls in your ear while he batters your quaking hole. You’re too close to another orgasm and fucked out to even respond.
Before he had you like this, pressed up against one of the windows at his office, Jake bent you over his desk to give your poor cunt a few spanks. He only laughed as you squirted all over his hand.
You never thought that the sweet and smart head of the IT department, the one calling you ladybug and playing with superhero figurines, will fuck you like an animal the moment you let him have his way with you.
“I knew the moment you walked into my office, wearing one of your cute skirts, and glasses, that you only need to be fucked like this to get you out of your shell.”
He’s moving faster, aware that anyone entering his office will find him balls deep inside the newest addition to the IT department. “Fuck, this is the best cunt I ever had.”
You whine even louder at his words. “Aw, you love praises,” he whispers filthy words in your ear. “My little cockslut. I will stuff your cunt every day from now on.”
Pushing back onto his twitching length you try to show him that you are more than willing to take his cock every day. “Please…J—ake.”
His hips slam into your ass, making you cry out at the impact. He’s getting impossible faster as you press the palms of your hands against the window. Your breath fogs the windows, and you can only hope the people in the other building can’t see you.
“It’s Mr. Jensen to you,” he smirks against your cheek, nuzzling you. “If you are a good girl, you can call me your IT God.”
You’d giggle at the awful nickname, but the way he uses your body is a crass contrast to the way he usually treats you. “Hmm…my little slut is going to cum again.”
Pants along with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh fill his office. A crescendo of your lust.
“OH GOD!” You scream his name and slam your hands against the window when your orgasm violently ripples through your body.
“That’s it, princess,” Jake grips your shoulders to hold you against the window. “Now, have my spunk.”
He comes with a grunt, and one last jerk of his hips. “Perfect, my little ladybug. So, fucking perfect.”
Jake carefully pulls out of your well-fucked pussy. He hisses and curses under his breath seeing the cum run down your thighs. “You good? I…wait…I’ll clean you up, Y/N.”
He hurriedly pulls his pants back up to grab his shirt and throw it on. Jake looks on the ground at your skirt and shirt lying torn on the ground. He huffs because it’s his fault you’ve got no clothes to wear.
You turn around on shaky legs to watch him open a drawer at his desk to get one of his spare shirts out. He sniffs at it, making you roll your eyes as it's not clean.
“Uh-I got a shirt and boxer briefs. You can have it. I’ll go and get you some clothes.”
He holds the clothes in his hands, shyly looking at you. “You are strong,” you glance up at Jake. He just screwed your brain out, but this doesn’t mean you know how to act around him now. “Very strong…and big…”
Jake grins. “I knew you’d love it!” He places the clothes on the desk to get another old shirt out. “Let me just…”
You let him guide you toward the couch at his office and sit down. Jake carefully cleans you up and hands you the shirt and boxer briefs.
“I’ll get you clothes, and you stay here.”
“I—okay.”
“We will go on a date,” he hastily says. “I mean…that’s what I wanted to do first. You just looked so good in that skirt, and I had to have you.”
Jake helps you into his shirt, grinning as it’s too big for you. “Where did you want to take me?”
“Home…my bed…on every surface,” he purrs in your ear. “I hope you know that you’re mine now.”
“Hmm…” you close your eyes and let Jake bury his face in your neck. “Next time, please don’t destroy my clothes. I liked that skirt…”
"I can't promise anything, bug..."
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Tags in reblog.
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lucidlivi · 10 months
Text
Chosen For Pleasure (IX)
Series Masterlist/Warnings
Tag List: @ladysparkles78 @suckitands33 @little-x-wolf @stoneyggirl2 @creative-writing92 @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @lessons-of-red @jamerlynn @deans-baby-momma @willow-sages @ritz-hell-hotel @perpetualabsurdity @mhessellund @itzabbyxx @chriszgirl92 @abbybarnesstuff @larrem88 @commonsenseishard @impalaspixie @notsogoofyjelly @hzllxhoundxx @taylortots-world @kazsrm67 @k-slla @heavenlyackles @spnfamily-j2 @buckybarnes-1917 (oh my! if you look at the beginning to now you can see how much we’ve grown! I love you all! If you would like to be added please send me a message or an ask!)
Did ya miss me?
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“can we please try again? I promise to be more open, I promise to work on my intimacy issues. I promise I will never hurt you that way again.” He pleaded.
“okay but one condition.”
“what’s that?”
“we take it slow.”
“I don’t know if I know how to take anything slow.” Jensen laughed rubbing a hand along his neck.
I leaned in close so we were just centimeters apart. Jensen swallowed, looking from my lips to my eyes.
“you’ll learn.” I whispered.
I smirked as I pulled away from him. Jensen sighed rolling his eyes before offering me a smile.
“besides you have some making up to do, didn’t think you were going to get off that easy did you?”I laughed getting out of the backseat.
“okay that’s fair, how about I pick you up after work tomorrow and we go to dinner?” He countered getting out too.
“hmmm intriguing, but I have a better idea, how about you pick me up after work and we make dinner at my place?”
“sounds like a date.” He smiles.
Jensen and I stood in silence, taking in each other’s presence.
“I um should get going, cause I really want to rip that little black dress off of you.” Jensen says licking his lips.
I felt the heat pool between my legs.
“down boy.” I laughed causing him to chuckle as well.
“I’ll see you tomorrow though, right?” He asked as if he were unsure I still wanted to see him.
“yes sir.” I tease with a smile.
Jensen leans in placing a tender kiss on my cheek. As he’s about to walk away his name is being called.
“Mr. Ackles wait up!”
A girl runs over with two frames in her hand.
“here are your pictures sir, I can see you already met the photographer, so you can just pay her directly then.”
I watch as the girl walks away looking frazzled. I turn back around to see Jensen with his checkbook out.
“what are you doing?”
“paying for my pictures, you heard the girl.” He said filling out a check.
“Jensen I don’t want your money.” I argue.
“please I make this kind of money every hour.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
He smiles at me before ripping one of the checks out and handing it to me.
Sure enough it’s a check for $40,000.
I give him a look before ripping the check to shreds.
“I don’t want your money.” I said more sternly this time.
He rolls his eyes annoyed by my antics.
“but they’re such good pictures.” He says holding them up and looking at them.
something tells me this was the first time he was actually seeing them.
“yeah they are, wonder who took them?” I joked.
“oh just this perfect woman that I’m falling in love with.” Jensen shrugs.
A blush instantly formed on my cheeks.
“hmm she sounds like a keeper, better not mess this up.” I whispered before biting my bottom lip.
Jensen leaned in close, lips near my ear.
“I don’t plan on it sweetheart.”
Jensen gave me one last peck on the cheek before sauntering away. I couldn’t help but to watch him in awestruck.
“I’m falling in love with you.”
His words replayed like an echo in my head. I couldn’t believe he was really falling in love with me. It was all too surreal.
I got an alert on my phone snapping me back to reality. It was a notice from my bank.
a deposit in the amount of $40,000 has been made to your account.
Jensen.
How?
I growled shaking my head, I would definitely have to talk to him about this tomorrow.
****************************************************
I felt extremely awkward going in to work the next day.
I had no clue why Gray was acting the way he was, but I felt like I owed him an apology, at least for Jensen’s behavior.
Stella was shocked when I told her what went down between the two men.
“oh my god they’re battling for your affection.”
“don’t be ridiculous Stella.”
I sighed getting out of the car slowly. I caught sight of Gray as he was walking in to the office.
“hey Gray, you got a second?”
He snapped his head up giving me a glare.
“make it quick I’m busy.” He snapped.
“doing what, you just got here?” I sassed back.
He rolled his eyes and continued to walk towards the office. I took a deep breath chasing after him. He made it so hard to be nice to him.
“I wanted to apologize for Jensen’s behavior.” I called while running to catch up with his quick strides.
At my words he stopped dead in his tracks forcing my body to collide with his. I fell back, my butt hitting the pavement.
“why would you need to apologize for him.” Gray asked crossing his arms across his chest.
I stood up dusting myself off trying to formulate a response.
“for how he talked to you, he just has a lot going on and we’re sort of back together so I feel that it’s my responsibility to..” I started to ramble but Gray cut me off.
“I think you’re making a mistake.”
“what?”
“being with him, you’re making a mistake.”
I stood silent in shock.
He rolled his eyes before walking in to the office
I couldn’t help but feel bad as I made my way in too.
I sometimes wandered if I was making a mistake too. Jensen came with a lot of baggage, sometimes I didn’t know if I was equipped to handle all of it.
As soon as I walked in all sets of eyes flickered in my direction.
Oh god.
What now?
I glanced back at Stella to see her nervously looking at her computer. I sped through the cubicles to reach her desk.
“how bad is it?” I asked biting my nails.
It was a nervous habit.
“well unless you don’t mind being called a gold digger, not too terrible.” she said turning her computer around.
It was another article, this time it was a picture of me and Jensen from the auction last night. It was when we were standing in the hallway, and I was yelling at him.
Ackles pays $40,000 for pictures from rumored girlfriend. Is she only after his money?
“do these people have anything better to do?” I growled slamming the laptop shut.
“how do they find out this information so quick I mean it literally happened yesterday?”
A realization washed over me making me sick to my stomach.
“Gray, it has to be.” I said racking my brain.
Gray was one of the organizers of the event last night. I mean it doesn’t explain the first leak to the press but it has to be him.
“but how, he didn’t know any of the other information.”
I knew she was probably right, maybe I just wanted someone to blame.
“I don’t know Stell, but it has to be him.”
“I guess we’ll just have to prove it then.”
I slumped in my seat sighing.
Even when I was winning it felt like I was losing.
It was silent between us until Stella spoke up.
“soooo $40,000 huh?”
I rolled my eyes looking at her.
“right not the time.”
I couldn’t help but start laughing at my best friend. She always knew how to make light of every situation.
I ignored the glances from my nosy coworkers and tried to be productive. It made the day go by faster. It was close to the end of the day when Gray approached our desks.
“may I have a word with you?” He asked standing in front of me.
I slowly nodded standing up to follow him.
“get some dirt.” Stella mouthed to me making me roll my eyes in response.
I walked in to his office sitting down on one of the plush chairs.
“is this about the article?” I hesitantly pried.
“did you book our rooms for the convention in New York this weekend?” He asked completely ignoring my question.
“uh our rooms?”
“did you or didn’t you?” He asked annoyed.
“I mean, yeah I booked your room, I didn’t know I was supposed to book one for me to.”
“It’s expected that my senior editor be in attendance as well.”
“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know.”
“well now you do, so go book yourself a room.” He said opening the door to dismiss me.
I walked out seeing most of the people leaving for the day. I sat down at my desk pulling up hotels in New York. I didn’t really want to spend a weekend in New York, especially with Gray, but I didn’t want to lose my job either.
“Matt is here, you going to be okay?” Stella asked squeezing my shoulders.
“yeah I’ll be fine, Jensen should be here any minute.” I said placing a hand on top of hers.
Stella gave me a smile before walking off. I quickly gathered my things shoving them in my bag.
I didn’t want to be left alone with Gray, something about being alone with him made me feel nauseous.
I hurried to the door. As I rushed out, I almost ran in to a young woman standing in front of the office.
“I’m sorry.” I immediately apologized offering her a smile.
“(y/n)?”
“uh yeah do I know you?” I asked looking at the girl.
she had a sad distant look in her eyes.
“no, you don’t.” she said quickly shaking her head.
I was about to respond when I heard Gray calling my name. I glanced back towards the building to see him coming my way. I turned my head back to where the girl had just stood but she was gone.
where did she go?
how did she know my name?
I guess a lot of people knew my name now that the press leaked my information, it made a chill run down my spine.
“everything okay?” Gray asked as he got closer.
“yeah, there was just a girl.” I said staring at where the mysterious woman could’ve gone.
“did you find a room yet?” He asked completely ignoring what I just said.
“uh no not yet.” I said nervously.
Gray was about to respond when Jensen pulled up in his bright red ferrari. He opened the door sending a warning glare towards Gray.
“I should go.” I said not wanting there to be another confrontation.
“yeah, wouldn’t want to keep your billionaire boyfriend waiting.” Gray seethed before walking back in to the office.
Jensen got out, opening the passenger door so I could slip in.
“what was that about?” Jensen asked.
I could see the jealousy rolling off of him in waves.
“uh I have to go to New York this weekend.” I murmured.
“with him?”
“for work.”
“absolutely not.” Jensen growled gripping the wheel tightly.
“Jensen, if this relationship is going to work, you can’t control me.”
“I’m not trying to control you, I just don’t want you to go to New York with him.” Jensen said looking at me sincerely.
“Jensen it’s a work trip.”
“to you, it may be a little more to him. if you want to go to New York, I’ll take you there myself. just please don’t go with him.” He pleaded.
I sighed looking at his face. He looked really uneasy.
“okay.” I agreed.
Relief flooded his features, I can’t deny feeling a bit of relief myself.
“good, I hate it when we fight.” He said starting up the car and taking off towards my apartment.
“that wasn’t a fight, that was called a conversation with compromise.” I laughed grabbing his hand.
It was quiet the rest of the way to my apartment. I opened the door throwing my bag down on the sofa.
“so what are we making?” Jensen asked taking off his jacket.
“fajitas, want to start cutting the peppers?” I asked handing him a knife and the bell peppers.
“uh sure.”
“you do know how to cut peppers don’t you?” I joked
“I’m not completely helpless.” Jensen said
I laughed as he started to dice the bell peppers. I got out the steak, starting to prepare it.
“excuse me sir.” I said leaning over him to grab the seasoning.
Jensen growled as my breasts brushed over his arm. I smirked returning to the steak.
“pardon me.” I smirked reaching around him to grab the onions.
I made sure to drop my hand lower, rubbing it against his toned abs and down towards his crotch area. I could hear his breathing quicken.
“sorry, my hand slipped.” I said innocently.
Jensen chuckled before returning to dicing the peppers.
“one more thing.” I said leaning over.
Jensen was quick to catch my hands, pinning my body against the counter with his.
“you’re asking for trouble.” Jensen said licking his lips.
“I have no idea what you’re referring too.” I teased.
Jensen leaned down, his lips brushing against my neck.
“we’re supposed to be taking it slow.” I whispered, cocking my head to the side so he had better access.
“okay.” Jensen shrugged pulling away and returning to his peppers.
I sucked in a sharp breath as I watched him work. He smirked as I stared at him.
Fuck.
I didn’t realize how much I missed the feeling of being with him.
“you know what fuck slow.”
Author Note:
I must love you guys a lot because I wrote this entirely on my phone (which I hate doing) butttt I wanted to get something out to you! I return tomorrow! So sorry this was so short/suckish and I left you with ANOTHER cliffhanger! I hope you’ll return for more!
xoxoxo
Liv
Part (X)
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rainydayandmondays · 5 months
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Thanksgiving Potluck
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Summary: It’s time for the annual Thanksgiving potluck at work. Andy wants to make sure that he brings something special for you. You worked so hard, you deserve it.
Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, slight non-con
Author's Note: This came about after seeing a challenge to write a spicy Thanksgiving story. With the blessing of @georgiapeach30513 to use Andy Barber, this is what I got.
You had been planning the department’s Thanksgiving potluck for weeks. Running around, trying to get everyone to sign up to bring in something, even if it was just silverware and napkins. Andy never participated in these get-togethers. They were some weird kind of team building bullshit that he had never really subscribed to. Why play nice that one day, while all the remaining days everyone was trying to one up each other. Comparing their win-loss ratios like they were some goddamn a-list athletes. The fucking Red Sox, they were not.
But you had started earlier this year, right around Valentine’s day. He remembered your first day, you wore your pink button down shirt the first two buttons undone and your simple gold necklace nestled in the crux of your shirt. Your pencil skirt was knee-length but seemed to hug from your waist to your hips. He imagined his hands could skim down the sides of it as if it was a second skin. Then your sensible flats, all that up top and did you finish with three-inch heels? No, just sensible flats. The red nail polish on your fingers with a small heart decals on each ring finger, let him know that you enjoyed celebrating holidays.
He watched you as you grew into the department, quickly planting roots and befriending each person you met. You were easy to get along with, never really asked for much, but always willing to give. He had spent most of October working with you. You were assisting on the research for his latest case, spending nights in the conference room with law books spread out in front of the two of you and boxes of half-eaten Chinese in each of your laps. You had asked about his story as you took a break from the mind-numbing reading of passage after passage. He had given you the cliff-notes version. The “everything is pretty on the outside” story. Loving wife at home and kid excelling in school. It was easier that way. Even if he could tell you didn’t totally buy it, you let him lie.
You on the other hand, were open. Told him everything. You were a paralegal, barely starting out with dreams of making it to law school one day. A sick mother at home had meant your law school dreams had taken the back burner. Your mom had been part of the last of the baby boomers and their idealized version of marriage. She had taken care of the household, you and your dad. With her bedbound, your dad was completely lost. You took over and everything else had been pushed aside. No sign of any romantic partners or life outside of work and home. But the glint in your eye talking about becoming lawyer, let him know you had more to offer. You had told him how you had aced your LSATS, spent every night up until 4 in the morning studying for them. You were younger then, could handle the late nights. Shit, you are younger now. Just barely hitting your late 20s, if he had to guess.
After those nights spent over cold takeaway dinners and finishing the McDonald v. City of Newton case, he realized that family dinners with little more than polite conversation paled in contrast to those talks and stale fast food. He had tried to get you on his next case, but Neal had snatched you up the moment you were free. He remembered the apologetic look you gave him when he swung by your desk with some briefs to review.
“Sorry Mr. Barber. I’m already working with Mr. Longudice. But you can leave those here and I’ll look at them when I get a chance.” You fidgeted with your pen, twirling it between your fingers. It was your nervous tick, he had noticed it the first night when you had found a passage that completely derailed his current case plan.
He nodded and walked away, noticing Neal looking on from the corner smirking. Fuck him, he wasn’t going to just use you to improve his standing in the department. He watched as the month progressed and Neal worked you into the ground. He found you more and more frequently in the break room, loading up on coffee. You were up to four glasses a day. That couldn’t be good for you. Not if you still had to go home and get your mom ready for bed.
He started to stay later and later, just to make sure someone was still here when you left. Neal took most of his case work home, leaving you with a list of readings to cover and present the next day. He watched as you flipped through pages, making notes in the growing stack of legal pads, and only the small desk lamp providing any light. He told Laurie that he had a big case he was finishing up. It was easier to keep working at his desk, instead of making the trip home, only to end up in his study. It didn’t take much to persuade her. He was pretty sure she preferred having the time to herself, she barely moved when he finally made it home to bed.
One night, he had timed it just right to meet you at the elevators at the end of the night. He walked up behind you, watching as you raised your right foot to scratch at the back of your left calf. Your pencil skirt rippled around your hips as you ran your foot down your leg. The sensible flats, the same ones you had worn that first day skimmed down the back of your left calf and he wondered what it would be like to have you run those sensible flats down his pant leg. He could feel himself twitch in his dress pants. This was a first. Up until this point, he had found you endearing, wanting to help you as much as you helped everyone else. But now, right now, he could imagine grabbing onto your hips, dipping his head into the crook of you neck as he ground against your pert ass. He felt his cock harden that bit more at the image, starting to push against the fly of his dress pants. Using his overcoat from that day’s chilly morning, he covertly covered the front of his slacks.
It wasn’t until the chime announced the elevator’s arrival and you turned around, that he came out of his brief stupor. You smiled and waved him into the waiting lift. That smile did nothing to help him, he shoved his hand into pocket to discreetly adjust himself before walking towards you. Standing next to you, he could smell those last remnants of your perfume. Was it your perfume? It had been a 12 hour work day, maybe that smell was just you. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? You chatted with him, promising that you were going to get to those briefs he left. It would be the first thing you would work on the next day. He listened and tried his best to feign interest, but you then looked up at him as you made your promise to him, and all his brainpower was immediately redirected to willing away his excitement. His hand still in his pocket, it brushed against his tip and he cleared his throat to cover the small groan that wanted to escape.
Reaching the garage, he offered to walk you to your car. You had gestured to the nearly empty lot, but he only uttered, “Better to be safe.”
You only nodded, leading him to your small late 2000s sedan. Reaching the car, you opened the squeaky driver’s door and threw in your workbag and handbag, before easing yourself into the seat. Andy held the door open for you, only to close it once you had settled. Lowering your window, you gave him a smile, thanking him for the escort, “You really didn’t have to do that. You’re a good man, Mr. Barber.”
He leaned down into your window, sighing before bidding you a good night, “You get home safe, sweetheart.”
He hadn’t meant to let the term of endearment slip, but your bashful smile was all it took to let him know he would be using that name again. Watching as you drove off, he made his way to his car. Popping the trunk on the Audi and throwing in the coat and briefcase, he hustled back to front of the car. Giving one more look around the lot, he noticed the security cam pointed at the opposite corner of the garage. Slipping into the driver’s seat, he only took a second to think through his next action. Closing his eyes, he remembered your big eyes looking up at him in the elevator, promising him something and his hand reached down to his pants.
He hadn’t gone down, no matter how he tried to calm himself, his coat had been his only saving grace, hiding away his reaction to you. Wrestling with his belt and button of his pants, he shoved his fly open, grabbing onto himself through his boxer briefs. He had already been steadily growing a nice wet spot on the front side of his briefs. Admittedly, bumping against himself with his hand in his pocket as he walked with you, might have gone a long way to making that spot. A couple of strokes, he reached in and pulled himself out.
Fuck, his hands were still cold from outside. It made his cock jump in his hold and he imagined your little hand taking him. You would apologize to him about your cold hands.
“Sorry Mr. Barber. Let me warm up my hands.”  The imaginary you whispered to him.
“Andy. Call me Andy, sweetheart.” He mumbled into the empty car.
He spit into the palm of his hand, before wrapping it around himself. He could feel you next to him, cuddling as much as possible against him, reaching across the console. Your hand stoking up and down, making sure to twist around the head of his cock. He dribbled onto your fingers and you took your thumb rubbing it along the tip urging more to come out.
“Fuck sweetheart. That feels so good. You’re making me feel so good.” He grunted, his head falling back against the headrest.
He could hear you giggle at that, pressing hard against the vein on the underside of his cock, causing it to throb in your hold.
“Ah shit, sweetheart, squeeze me. I know your hand is so little but try my sweet girl. Come on, try for me.” You would hum at that, reaching between his legs and grabbing onto his sack. Rolling his balls in one hand as you steadily stroked him with the other, giving a squeeze to his cock before a squeeze to his sack.
“What do you need Andy? Whatever you need, I promise I’ll give it to you. Please Andy, tell me what you need.” The imaginary you nipped at his neck, murmuring another promise into his neck.
“Fuck me, sweet girl. Look at me, watch me cum for you. Just for you, sweet girl. Just for you…” He reached for the empty coffee tumbler in his console, placing it under the tip of his cock as he let go. Groaning he pulsed a couple times, continuing to stroke himself until he drained himself fully, because that’s what you would do. You would never do a half ass job.
Sitting back, he looked into the tumbler, seeing a layer of his cum coating the bottom of the cup. He hadn’t cum that hard in a long time. But he supposed a sexless marriage would leave him with a lot of pent-up energy. Remembering Laurie, he grabbed a couple of napkins from the glove compartment, wiping himself before shoving them into the tumbler. After buckling his pants, he started the car, backing out lot and turning onto the freeway for home.
That night had been a couple of weeks ago and he found himself hovering around your desk as much as possible, asking for help finding a text. He would time your coffee breaks and bump into you in the breakroom to make small talk with you. Each time he saw you, he tried to get you to smile. Even on your most stressful days, your shoulders hunch, he would make quick jabs at Neal which would inevitably cause a small giggle to pass your lips. He liked those times, the sound of your laugh would get stored away in his mind, coming out only in the shower as he painted the walls for you.
When you came by with the potluck sign up sheet earlier this week, you mentioned that there were still a few sides left that no one had chosen. Looking at the list, he saw the mashed potatoes listed and quickly jotted his name down beside it. He could probably get Laurie to make it for him. She had been in a better mood recently. Had waited up for him when he worked late. She would welcome him to bed and curl into his side, rubbing circles along his chest. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but if it meant not having to deal with a moody Laurie daily, he would take it.
The day of the potluck, he walked in finding most of the office milling about. It didn’t look like much would be getting done today. With Thanksgiving tomorrow, most had spent the last few days easing into their vacation. He looked at the conference room to see the spread already laid out, you were flitting around making sure everything was set up just right.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” you jumped a little as he came up behind you, placing the dish of mashed potatoes in front of you.
“This will be perfect,” you took the dish moving it next to someone’s version of cornbread stuffing.
Turning around, you smiled at him. He thought about stepping back from you, but instead stood still. Reaching up to his arm, you grabbed his elbow and let out small breath, “I should let everyone know it’s ready.”
Slipping from around him, you walked out to the bull pin area, inviting everyone to come and dig in. He watched as everyone hustled to the conference room as he stepped out of the other door. Making his way towards his desk, he settled down, starting up his computer to check some late correspondence. He needed to spend time with you but not with everyone around. He placed his coffee tumbler on the clay coaster that Jacob had made him back in 4th grade. Sighing, he would wait to talk with you later.
The din in the conference room started to slowly die down and looking at the clock he saw that it was nearly half past 2. Most of the office should be heading out for their holiday and he figured, now would be his best bet. Grabbing his stuff together, he headed back out to find the room mostly empty. He couldn’t possibly have missed you, could he? Staring out to the row of desks, he spotted your workbag and handbag still on your desk. So, you were here, just not in the conference room.
Walking into the breakroom, he saw you at the sink scrapping off food into the trash and rinsing off dishes. Standing in the doorway, he watched this small glimpse into the domestic side of you and fuck, if it didn’t do something for him. Imagining coming home to you in the kitchen, prepping dinner for the two of you. You would still have your work clothes on but only now you would be barefoot. You would relax into him as he came up behind you, arms circling your waist.
He let out a quick breath, shaking himself from his daydream, before setting down his bag on the small table in the room. Coffee tumbler in hand, he approached you, quietly interrupting your dishwashing, “I bet you haven’t even made yourself a plate.”
Looking down, followed by a small bashful smile, you nodded, “There was so much to do.”
Grabbing onto his mashed potatoes, he looked for a spoon before starting to serve a portion onto a plate, “Come on. It’s your potluck too. You should get to enjoy it too. Besides, you got to at least try these mashed potatoes. A lot of effort went into making them. Go on now, sit down.”
Watching you sit down, he turns back to the counter, grabbing the gravy boat beside the sink. Taking the coffee tumbler, he had set down, he carefully removed the lid before emptying the contents into the remaining gravy. He stared as the viscous liquid drizzled out. With the spoon, he quickly mixed the gravy with the new ingredient together before pouring out the mixture on the mashed potatoes.
Turning back towards you, you sat at the table patiently waiting for him as he set the plate in front you. Quickly thanking him, you dug in, spooning a generous amount, gravy and all, onto your utensil and bringing to your mouth.
“Mmm, that’s really good Mr. Barber. Kind of earthy tasting. Are there mushrooms in the gravy?” You looked at him, a small amount of gravy stuck to the side of your mouth.
“Something like that,” he whispered, eyeing that speck of gravy and reaching out to clean it from your lip.
“Oh, I’m a mess,” your cheeks heated as you grabbed a napkin to clean the corner of your mouth.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied, taking his thumb with gravy still on it and licking it clean, “Go ahead, finish it all.”
You followed his direction, cleaning your plate, your spoon making a sound as you laid it down. You had eaten it all. Enjoying it, if he were to go by the little happy noises you made as you ate. He knew you would love it.
“Here, let me put this up for you,” he took the plate and spoon back the sink and as he rinsed the plate, he asked over his shoulder, “Did you like it, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Mr. Barber. I promise.”
He gulped, steadying himself against the counter at your promise.
“You know, what, why don’t you take the rest home? There’s still a little bit of mashed potatoes and gravy left,” he asked already reaching for the lid of the Tupperware Laurie had used when packing it this morning.
“I couldn’t do that. You made it, you should take it home,” you answered next to him, and he realized that you must have gotten up from the table.
Locking the lid on the dish, he turned to you, already handing over the remaining potatoes covered in his gravy, “I insist.”
He had made that gravy just for you. After stroking another one out in the front seat of his car in the courthouse parking garage, he had sprayed another load into his tumbler. Looking at the cup again, he swore each session’s load was getting bigger even though this was a daily occurrence at this point. It had ended with a particularly bountiful finish, as he imagined you between his legs. Head bobbing on this cock, tits hanging from your top, before you had spit onto his cock, trapping it between your breasts and finishing him with a hard snuck to just the mushroom head of his cock.
It hit him then what a waste it was to rinse out his tumbler every night when he got home. You would love the taste of him. He knew would. Over the next few days, he collected each load, storing it in his coffee tumbler on the top shelf of his fridge at home. He had a couple of close calls when Laurie asked why he was keeping his coffee cold. He brushed it off, saying it was just water. He was trying to stop drinking so much coffee. Bad for his health. She had just nodded, leaving the tumbler alone.
“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you nodded taking the dish with a smile.
“You can call me Andy. Promise you will?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, giving himself room in the suddenly tight pants.
“I promise. Thank you, Andy,” smiling up at him, he swore you could feel what he did. He swore you knew exactly what he had given you. Swore that you were happy and willing to take it. His sweet girl would take anything he gave her.
“You almost done, Ace?”
Andy was interrupted from his trance, hearing a male voice enter the room.
“Jake!” You called to the blonde man walking into the room. His shirt was untucked and his tie not quite knotted straight.
“I’m supposed to take you out for a Friendsgiving dinner today, remember?” Jake moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist.
Who in the ever-loving fuck is this guy? Andy watched as you hugged Jake around the waist, shaking your head, ready to apologize, “I’m sorry Jake. My day got away from me. Oh, this my kind of boss, Andy. Andy Barber.”
Jake reached out a hand to him to shake while his other still stayed slung along your waist, “Jake. Nice to meet you.”
Andy looked at the hand in front of him, before nodding and giving this fucker a firm handshake. If he squeezed a little harder than he should, well that wasn’t on him.
“Go get your stuff together and then we’ll head out,” Jake whispered down at you, to which you just nodded and flitted out the room.
Stuck with just Jake in the room, Andy leaning back against the sink giving this other guy a once over. He wouldn’t be an issue. No way did this guy have the prowess or charm to lure you away. You were his sweet girl. This fucker wouldn’t change that.
“I’m only going to say this once, leave her alone.”
Andy looked back at Jake, eyebrow raised, before scoffing, “And who are you exactly?”
“I’m guy who knows how to download the feed from the parking garage’s cameras.” Andy swallowed hard as Jake stared him down. He refused to nod, instead crossing his arms and looking down.
“I’m ready Jake!” You came back in, your handbag slung over your shoulder and the mashed potatoes in your arms as Jake took your workbag from you.
“Let’s shake a leg then, Ace,” you giggled at Jake and Andy frowned. When did that giggle change from just being his?
“Bye Andy. I’ll see you next week. Happy Thanksgiving!”
Waving goodbye to the two of you, Andy waited to hear the ding of the elevator before grabbing the tumbler and throwing it across the room. It clanked against the wall before rolling back towards his feet.
Hands on hips, he looked down at the cup. It was okay. Jake couldn’t do anything to him. He had checked to make sure the cameras were never pointed at him. But you, his sweet girl, he needed a new plan. Grabbing the cup from the floor, he rinsed it before setting it next to the empty coffee maker.
It hit Andy then. You did love your coffee. And you always made sure to have cream with it.
@buckybarnesisdaddy, @theinheriteddutchess, @sarahdonald87
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thezombieprostitute · 3 months
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Dream Come True - Part 3
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Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.
Warnings: Violence mentioned and referenced, not written. Insecure reader. Bullying with an emphasis on fat shaming. Please let me know if I miss any!
Part 2 -- Part 4
Series Masterlist
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Ransom was not having a good day. Truth be told, he hadn't had a good day since Steve punched his stomach over a week ago. The writer's block had hit harder than usual. Many applicants for the Assistant position were garbage, completely upsetting his idea that you just needed to google the right answers.
He was starting to realize that Fatso, as he had taken to calling her in his head, was able to help him through his writing blocks because she had the context of the other questions, some rough draft information, and she'd include ways to use her research into the story. Maybe he just needed to actually hire someone from the "competent" file and try from there?
Problem was, time was an issue. His writer's block had kicked in hard and his publisher was getting more impatient about updates. He spent so much time just staring at his computer.
He was startled out of his contemplation by a phone call. If it was his publisher he'd just ignore it but the Caller ID showed "Steve Rogers".
Ransom answered, "Rogers! To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Where the hell are you Drysdale?" Steve was quiet growling into the phone. Indicating he was around others.
"What do you mean?"
"The damned Stark party? Raising funds for Rhodes's campaign?!" Ransom could swear he heard Steve's teeth grinding. "You're supposed to be here chatting with Mrs. Devereaux. Buttering her up to at least not donate to Wilford?!"
"Shit," Ransom jumped up and ran towards his closet. "Tell her I'll be there in 20 minutes. If she needs an excuse, I was writing up a storm. I'll make it up to her by naming a character after her or something."
"Just. Get. Here." Steve hung up.
Yeah, Ransom was not having a good day.
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Your life was returning to some sense of normalcy. The crutches were a pain but, thankfully, you didn't have a lot of places to go. You wanted to get back to working as quickly as you could, if only to feel like you were actually earning some of the money you'd been given.
But you'd kept your promise to be safe, and allow yourself to heal. You did your best to keep within the movement restrictions you were given. Part of you was still waiting for that hospital bill. Yes, Curtis, Dr. Beck, even Jake and Jefferson all said it was taken care of but part of you still waited for that dreaded notice of nonpayment.
Thankfully the cybercafe wasn't too far and you were able to convince the J's (as they told you to call them) that it was the perfect distance for your needed exercise and movement and you'd sit at the cafe long enough to rest for the return trip. You were happy to get back to tutoring the girls in the afternoons. Your mornings were spent applying for other jobs.
One morning your applications were interrupted by Jake.
"Hey, Y/N, this is Hal," Jake gestured to the handsome, shirt-haired man, wearing a too small shirt, next to him. "He's here to work with you towards getting his GED.”
"Oh, yes," you perk up. "Curtis mentioned another possible student." You reach out your hand and Hal, grinning even wider, shakes it.
"It's mighty kind of you to agree to this," he began. "I've been meaning to fill in that gap on my resume for some time.”
"Well I'm happy to help you with that. Please, have a seat so we can get started?”
Hal pulls out the nearest chair and turns it so that he sits on it backwards, his muscly arms resting on the back of the chair.
"So, is this a time that works for you," you ask. "I've got a pretty open schedule so your time preferences are get priority.”
"Well," he hesitates, "my schedule is pretty all-over-the-place. Is there any chance we could take it a week at a time?”
"Sure," you affirm. "As long as you give me notice so I'm not sitting here doing nothing.”
"Yes, ma'am," Hal nods. "I'm not in the habit of leaving pretty girls wanting." He gives a wink but you drop your eyes and sigh.
"Hal," you scold. "I'm going to guess you're the type to hit on anything that breathes?”
Clearly taken aback by your tone Hal straightens in his seat. "No," he denies. "Maybe. I swear I was just trying to compliment you.”
You pause your comeback and take a deep breath instead. "I suppose there is a difference," you concede. “Just please be careful with both of those around me. I am not a "pretty girl" and I do not appreciate being addressed as such.”
Hal's eyebrows furrow in confusion so you continue, "let's just keep the compliments related to our work? Please? I'd always prefer being smart or nice to being pretty." You give him a small smile and he visibly relaxes.
"Sure thing, Teach," he says. "So, where should we start?”
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Curtis was cleaning up the interrogation room after Barnes and Fowler's latest “message” to Rumlow’s crew. They had already taken the body to drop it off on Rumlow's front door, Curtis would make sure all evidence was removed from the room. It was ugly work but maybe, just maybe, Rumlow would stop trying to push his drugs and thugs in their territory.
He was finishing up when he got a text from Jefferson saying Hal’s first session went well. He normally doesn't need these kinds of updates from the legitimate side of things but he found himself rather invested in your progress. You were unusual. A puzzle he wanted to figure out.
Or so he kept telling himself to explain why he was thinking about you so much. You’d shown yourself to be sweet and patient with others but he remembers the fire with which you spoke to him. He almost felt like a moth drawn to your light but he had to keep himself in check. For now it was enough to know you were doing well and helping his family.
At least until he got the follow up text from Jefferson saying, “Ran is looking for Teach. Ok to share info?”
Curtis felt his jaw tighten. The pompous ass had fired someone for taking a bullet. He didn't want him anywhere near you. He was sure you wouldn't want to see Ransom, either. Jake had told him you'd blocked your former boss’s number and his emails would go straight to spam. He texted back a simple “no.” Let the asshole suffer.
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Part 2 -- Part 4
Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.
@dontbescaredtosingalong
@icefrozendeadlyqueen
@texmexdarling
@veltana
@winter-soldier-101
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.
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saiyanprincessswanie · 8 months
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Hello all,
I’m looking to read more variety of characters by Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan. Don’t get me wrong I love Steve and Bucky and I will continue to read them as they are my favorites. But I want to read more of the following characters either by mutuals or new authors that I haven’t read before. Looking for oneshots, drabbles or headcannons.
Here are some examples of characters:
Andy Barber
Ari Levinson
Cole Turner
Curtis Everett
Frank Adler
Jake Jensen
Lloyd Hansen
Mr Freezy
Ransom Drysdale
Chris (Destroyer)
God the bounty hunter
Lee Bodecker
Nick Fowler
So if you or someone you know writes for the characters tag me in your work or send it to me in a DM.
Much love Missy
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scoobydoodean · 4 months
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One thing that bugs me about after school special is that the dude they casted for "teen" Dean is literally a decade older than young Sam. He was closer in age to Jensen than to Colin. Normally I wouldn’t gaf (none of the younger Dean actors ever hit the mark for me so it is what it is), but combined with the episode’s complete lack of empathy for his situation as a parentified child, it feels more insidious. It frames him as way older than he really is, and in a way normalizes his parentification. If they had casted an actual 16 year old, their dynamic would look a lot more honest to what it truly was.
You know I'm don't think I've even fully worked out my frustrations about After School Special yet. I had to stop thinking about it last night because it was 3AM and I had to go to bed (also for more context, see posts I reblogged from Leyla last night jshdbfjhsbdfh).
This episode is just so... messy. It tries to say too many things, it says some absolutely stupid things and some okay things, and in other places, the narrative isn't clear (or maybe Dabb and Loflin are at war with one another on the subject of Dean—who knows). I find some of my frustrations and why I have those frustrations... difficult to explain in words.
That is a good point about the casting of Brock. Mind you—I have nothing against the actor here. I actually have always thought Brock did a great job copying Dean's mannerisms and way of speaking (I assume Jensen worked with him during the episode) and I think he does his best with what he's given and the role he's expected to play. The writing itself isn't his fault, of course.
From a height perspective, they wanted to intentionally contrast Dean with Sam all episode, who's being mocked by Dirk (who's paralleled with Dean and is literally our only window into sympathy toward parentified children which... isn't much at all) for being shorter than him, and I think that's part of why they chose someone much older and taller than Collin Ford.
I also don't think we're necessarily meant to dismiss the knowledge that Sam is much taller than Dean as an adult, but the thing is, if they wanted me to buy into the idea that everyone in After School Special is a bully (except maybe Barry), they did a terrible job. Sam hardly comes off as a bully—all he does is defend himself from someone who used their pain as an excuse to make his and other people's lives miserable (we get better evidence of bully!sam in their previous episode—"Yellow Fever"—actually). Is that what Dabb and/or Loflin think of Dean? That he's made Sam miserable? How? By *looks at notes* not obeying his every whim and following him around like an obedient dog, or perhaps by being dead? Hm. Except Dean doesn't even make Sam miserable in this episode (unless making jokes Sam doesn't find funny counts). Sam even picked the case they're on—Dean doesn't actually really want to go to their old school. Young Dean is reiterating that he'll look out for young Sam the entire episode.
I do think people are right when they say Dean's height (and much older appearance) are meant to reflect how Sam perceived him (After School Special is nearly fully from Sam's POV—Dean is more of a plot device than anything). Young Dean is immediately popular in school. He's handsome and makes the other kids his age laugh from the moment he enters the classroom. He immediately catches the eye of popular girls, and Barry and Sam have an exchange about it.
BARRY That's your brother with Amanda Heckerling? He's cool. YOUNG SAM Yeah. He thinks so.
Sam's paper about their werewolf hunt is, by the teacher's recounting, one where Dean shines the brightest—not Sam. He's the first thing that catches Wyatt's attention. What catches his attention second is John dragging them everywhere. Sam doesn't really factor in at all.
MR. WYATT I'm not flunking you. I'm giving you an "A." Now, aside from the werewolf, is that really how you'd describe your family? YOUNG SAM Yeah. MR. WYATT Well, your brother is quite a character. And your father -- he seems, uh, driven.
This also isn't a bad nugget about Sam, in an episode that comes right after 4.12 which is also to an extent about the desire for fame and attention and the old school versus the new school (where Sam represents the hot, new, popular magic that embraces demonic forces and is pushing out the old ways of doing things). I said 4.13 is also about envy—many of the murders are driven by projections on others. Dirk perceived Sam and Dean as "Jocks... you popular kids... you always thought you were better than everybody else." When that wasn't them at all. I've said that Sam is jealous of Dean (his bravery in combat despite zero powers, in previous seasons—his intelligence and way with people, his title as "the righteous man" while Sam is "the boy with the demon blood"). Dirk was projecting his resentments onto people they didn't apply to as a function of resentment and jealousy from the superiority he himself ultimately perceived them to possess, and that's much more reminiscent of Sam this season (we're about to see him project his insecurities on Dean and become the Big Bad Bully in the next episode—4.14):
OK, fine. You know why I didn't tell you about Ruby, and how we're hunting down Lilith? Because you're too weak to go after her, Dean. You're holding me back. I'm a better hunter than you are. Stronger, smarter. I can take out demons you're too scared to go near. [...] You're too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in hell. Boo hoo.
For Sam, After School Special isn't a terrible episode. It's just that it almost fully treats Dean as a cartoonish plot device and the neckbeard-type loathing for him almost seeps off the page even with all the nods to performing Dean you could ever want. In After School Special, Dean seems more unlike himself than any episode ever in the history of Supernatural up to this point. I do actually kind of think Dabb took one look at Dean when he came in in season 4 and decided he's a bully because he's popular based on nothing—however much he pretends he's only saying something else... and honestly I don't think he ever really got over it.
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