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lila-lou · 10 days ago

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✨Age gap crush - Pt. 2/2✨

Summary: Jensen froze—biggest age gap crush? Jared smirked, already knowing the answer. Because Jensen didn’t do attachments. But with you? He already had.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language

Word Count: 6943

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 🩷

Later that day, back in the car, Jensen barely even heard Jared talking. He was too busy texting you. It wasn’t even a question of if he’d see you tonight. That was a given. It was just about what to order in—because he sure as hell wasn’t planning on going out with Jared like they usually did after conventions. Again. Unusual. For just a fling, at least.

Jensen knew that. He wasn’t stupid. But right now? He didn’t care. All he wanted was to get back to the hotel, have you in his arms, and not deal with the fact that Jared was about to tease the absolute shit out of him. Which, of course, Jared did. Jensen had barely typed out "Pizza or sushi?", before Jared let out a low, amused hum from beside him.

"That her?", Jared murmured, arms casually crossed, like he wasn’t clearly watching Jensen text. Jensen didn’t even look up. "Shut up, dude".

Jared chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, I just think it’s funny", he mused. "You usually ditch whoever you’re seeing the second we wrap a con. But now?". Jensen’s jaw tightened as he hit send.

"Now, I gotta fight for your damn attention", Jared finished, mock-offended. Jensen sighed, finally looking over at him. "Jesus, man, it’s not that deep".

Jared just grinned, fully enjoying himself. "Yeah? So tell me why you haven’t even asked if I wanted to grab dinner".

Jensen hesitated. Not because he didn’t have an answer—but because Jared already knew it. And when Jensen didn’t immediately fire back, Jared’s grin widened.

"Yeah", Jared muttered under his breath, fully entertained, shaking his head as he stared out the window.

Jensen sat back against the car seat, crossing his arms, jaw tight, trying his best to ignore the smug energy radiating off of Jared. It wasn’t working. Because Jared wasn’t done. Not even close. “So, uh…”, Jared drawled, tapping his fingers against his knee, side-eyeing Jensen like he was about to drop some real dumbass shit. “Just curious—when exactly did we stop being each other’s post-convention dinner dates?”.

Jensen sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dude—”.

“I mean, I get it”, Jared continued, ignoring him. “It’s a big step. You and me? We’ve had a good run. But now I gotta find someone new to eat with? That’s just cold, man”.

Jensen rolled his eyes, pulling his phone back out, not even humoring him with a response. Jared just grinned, eyes flicking to the screen Jensen had just unlocked. Your name. Still sitting there in his texts. Jensen immediately tilted his phone away, but it was too late.

Jared snorted. “Jesus, dude. You are down bad”.

Jensen’s fingers tightened around his phone. “Padalecki, I swear to—”.

“You’re texting her about food? Food?”, Jared cut in, his tone somewhere between mock disbelief and sheer amusement. “Not even a ‘hey, what’s up?’ Just straight to ordering in like a goddamn married couple?”.

Jensen clenched his jaw, refusing to engage.

"Goddamn", Jared muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "It’s worse than I thought".

Jensen exhaled slowly, forcing himself to ignore him. Because here’s the thing, Jared wasn’t wrong. Jensen had spent years keeping shit casual, keeping things light, never getting too attached—especially now. But this? This thing with you? Yeah. This was different. And Jared? He fucking knew it.

Jensen didn’t even look up from his phone as he typed out a simple “Pizza it is”. But before he could hit send, Jared spoke up again. "I’m for pizza too". Jensen’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing at Jared, who was grinning like an absolute menace. Jensen squinted. “The hell you are”.

Jared shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? You didn’t say it was just a two-person meal”.

"Because it is".

Jared’s grin widened. “See, that’s interesting. Because usually, you don’t care if I tag along. Usually, I’m welcome”.

Jensen rolled his eyes, shoving his phone into his pocket, not rising to the bait. “You don’t even like hotel pizza, dude”.

"Yeah, but I like seeing you squirm". Jared shot back, eyes gleaming with pure entertainment. "And I really, really wanna see how this plays out".

Jensen let out a long, deep sigh, dragging a hand down his face. "You are such a pain in my ass".

Jared beamed. "Yeah, but you love me anyway".

Jensen knew Jared was right behind him, and he hated every second of it.

He shot his best friend a side glance, watching the way Jared was clearly too entertained, shoulders relaxed, hands in his pockets, like he was just here to observe. Like this was a damn science experiment.

Jensen gritted his teeth, swiping his key card and stepping into the room, already bracing himself for whatever the hell this night was about to turn into. And then he saw you. Lying on the bed, stretched out, comfortable, completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend was right behind him. And fuck. You were wearing his shirt. That shouldn’t have done something to him, but it did.

That familiar, worn-out t-shirt draped over your frame, riding up just enough to tease bare thighs, smooth skin… And underneath? Jensen had no idea. But he had a feeling you were about to show him. His pulse kicked up, his entire body reacting instantly, but then, Jared stepped in behind him. And you noticed.

Your relaxed expression vanished, your eyes widening instantly as you sat up fast, gripping the hem of the shirt, clearly not expecting company. Jensen winced, already anticipating what was coming.

Jared was grinning like a bastard. “Well”, Jared said, clearly enjoying the hell out of this. “Look at you. All cozy”.

Your eyes snapped to Jensen, mouth opening, then closing, completely thrown off. Jensen sighed, running a hand down his face. “Yeah, so… Jared invited himself”. “Obviously”, you muttered, still clutching the hem of the shirt, cheeks flushing.

Jared plopped down into the chair by the window, leaning back like he had all the time in the world. Before Jared could open his mouth with whatever smartass comment he had lined up, you quickly mumbled, "I’m getting dressed", and practically bolted into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Jensen barely hid his smirk as he watched you flee. He couldn’t blame you—Jared had a way of making situations like this ten times worse just by existing. With a heavy sigh, Jensen walked further into the room, then reached back and shoved the door shut, locking Jared inside with him.

"That was a little dramatic, don’t you think?", Jared teased, stretching his legs out like he was making himself real comfortable.

Jensen just shot him a look, rubbing the back of his neck, his mind still half-distracted by the way you looked in his damn shirt, as his eyes landed on something.

A small shopping bag. Right next to the bed. Jensen frowned, walking closer, his gaze sharpening as he read the label. Aubade. His stomach flipped. He knew that brand. Very well. It was your favorite. And that little, innocent-looking bag? Was empty. Fuck.

Jensen’s throat went dry, his brain quickly catching up to what that meant. And suddenly, his entire perspective of the night shifted. Because if that bag was empty, that meant whatever you’d bought was already on you. Under that shirt. In that bathroom. Right now.

Fucking shit.

Jensen exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his face, suddenly feeling ten times more frustrated than he already was. Because this night was not supposed to go like this. And now, Jared was sitting in the damn chair, completely ruining any chance of him seeing exactly what you had planned. Jensen clenched his jaw, his patience officially gone. Jared needed to get the hell out. Immediately.

Jensen shot Jared a sharp look, one that clearly meant You are the biggest pain in my ass, before pushing himself off the wall and walking straight toward the bathroom.

Jared barely had time to react before Jensen muttered lowly, "I’m coming in", and pushed the door open, stepping inside without hesitation. You gasped, your hands frozen mid-motion as you were about to slip on your yoga pants, your top still lying on the counter. And Jensen? Jensen saw everything. Fuck. His entire body locked up as his eyes dragged slowly over you, taking in every inch of what you were wearing. It was new. Black, delicate, lace-trimmed Aubade lingerie, hugging every curve, dipping low where it should, sitting high on your hips, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. His breathing stalled, his grip on the door tightening.

His head fell back, groaning. Annoyed. Turned on. Frustrated as hell. Because holy shit, you looked unbelievable. And because Jared, his absolute dumbass best friend, was still sitting in the next room, completely ruining the moment.

"You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me", Jensen muttered under his breath, running a frustrated hand down his face, his entire body burning. You blinked, startled at first, before realization dawned in your eyes—the way he was looking at you, the way he was standing there like he wanted to either punch a wall or pin you against one.

A slow, knowing smirk curled your lips. "Problem?", you asked, voice dripping with fake innocence, tilting your head as you stood there, completely unapologetic for how wrecked you just made him.

Jensen exhaled sharply, shaking his head, jaw clenching tight. "Yeah", he muttered, voice low, strained, dangerous. "You".

You bit your lip, stepping just slightly closer, watching the way his hands flexed, like he was holding himself back from reaching for you.

Jensen’s jaw ticked, his eyes still dark as he stood there, doing his best to keep his damn hands to himself.

And then you spoke.

“Thought you might be exhausted after getting drooled over for so many hours…”. Your voice was smooth, teasing, your fingers trailing over his chest, brushing over the fabric of his t-shirt, light as a feather but devastating all the same. “So I wanted to put on a little show tonight”.

Jensen groaned softly, his grip on the doorframe tightening, his entire body on edge. You let your fingers drift lower, just briefly, before you suddenly pinched his stomach, your expression turning mock-innocent as you pulled away.

“But we’ve got company”. And with that, you turned around, grabbing your yoga pants and stepping into them, like you were just going to let him suffer in silence.

Yeah. No fucking way. Jensen moved before he even thought about it, his hands grabbing your waist, yanking you back against him before you could even pull the damn pants all the way up.

Your breath caught, your body colliding with his, your back flush against his chest, trapped against solid muscle and heat.

Jensen’s lips hovered just below your ear, his breath slow, heavy, controlled, but barely. "That’s real cute, sweetheart", he muttered, his voice low, gravelly, dangerous.

You swallowed hard, feeling the way his fingers flexed against your waist, his grip possessive, firm, but not rough. Not yet. Jensen smirked, his lips brushing your skin as he leaned in closer. "But you and I both know", he murmured, voice gritted, thick with frustration, "you’re not getting away with that".

Your stomach flipped, your hands gripping his wrists, feeling the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly, keeping you right there.

His voice dropped even lower, a quiet, warning growl. "Jared or no Jared, you just started something. And I promise you—I'm gonna finish it". And fuck. You really, really hoped Jared would leave soon.

Your breath caught, your body going still as Jensen’s hand slipped inside your lace panties, fingers trailing lower, just barely teasing over where you were already aching for him.

His other arm tightened around your waist, keeping you pressed against his chest, your back molded to the hard planes of his stomach, making sure you couldn’t squirm away.

Not that you wanted to. "Jensen—", you started, your voice barely a whisper, but he just shushed you, his lips ghosting over the curve of your neck.

"Shhh, sweetheart", he murmured, his voice rough, gravelly, sending a shiver down your spine. "You don’t wanna let Jared hear, do you?".

Fuck. Your fingers gripped his wrists, but it was useless—he was too strong, his grip too firm, holding you exactly where he wanted you, before his fingers dipped lower. Your entire body jerked, a quiet, shaky breath slipping out as he brushed right over your clit, slow, taunting, the lace doing nothing to dull the sensation.

Jensen let out a low chuckle, amused at how quickly you reacted. "Fuck", he muttered, voice thick with approval, his fingers pressing just a little firmer, making your stomach clench, thighs trembling. "This all for me?".

Your cheeks burned, your body betraying you, hips subtly rolling into his touch, but he just held you still, torturing you with the slowest, most maddening pace imaginable.

"Thought you were supposed to be getting dressed", he murmured, his smirk audible in his voice. "But now? Look at you".

His fingers slipped under the lace completely, skin to skin now, teasing over your already soaking folds, spreading the wetness with slow, calculated strokes. Your knees almost buckled, your hand slapping against the counter for support. Jensen grinned against your neck, his other arm keeping you steady, keeping you right where he wanted. "You wanted to put on a little show tonight?", he taunted, voice dark, teasing. "I think you forgot who the hell you’re dealing with".

Your breath hitched, your body desperately needing more, but just as you were about to grind against his fingers, but then there was a knock on the bathroom door. "Hey, lovebirds!", Jared’s voice rang through the room, amused, smug as hell. "Y’all coming out anytime soon, or should I just assume you’re giving me a free concert?".

Jensen let out a frustrated groan, his head falling against your shoulder, his fingers still pressed against you, but now frozen, caught in the act.

You bit your lip hard, barely holding back a whimper, your body on fire, needing him to keep going—but now? Completely stuck.

Jensen sighed heavily, reluctantly pulling his hand away, but not before one last slow, torturous stroke, just to punish you for teasing him earlier. You exhaled shakily, glaring at the door. Jared was so fucking dead.

Jensen’s hand rested on your hip, his grip still firm, his voice low and dangerous in your ear. "This ain’t over".

And you knew, without a doubt, the second Jared left? You were in for it.

The three of you sat around the small hotel table, the smell of melted cheese and pepperoni filling the air. Jensen had finally relaxed, his arm resting on the back of his chair, a slice of pizza in one hand as he talked about the convention.

But Jared wasn’t really listening to the words coming out of Jensen’s mouth. No, he was too busy watching how Jensen was talking. Because it wasn’t normal. Not the way he usually recounted convention stories, throwing in snarky remarks and playful exaggerations just for the hell of it. Not the way he usually bullshitted his way through conversations just to keep things light and entertaining.

No. This was different. Jensen was telling you about his day, and only you. Sure, Jared was sitting right there, but it was like Jensen forgot he existed.

His eyes stayed on you, his voice a little softer, his usual cocky smirk replaced with something more real. His words weren’t just casual storytelling—they were meant for you, directed at you. Like he wanted you to know. Like he wanted to share it with you.

Jared sat back in his chair, chewing on his pizza thoughtfully, watching as you leaned in slightly, nodding along, smiling, actually engaged in what he was saying.

And Jensen was eating that shit up. The way his eyes crinkled when you laughed, the way his gaze flickered to your lips when you smiled, the way his fingers absentmindedly tapped against the table—yeah. Jared had seen this before. But not from Jensen. At least, not like this. Then, he exhaled slowly, setting his pizza down, deciding to test something.

Jensen was so distracted, so caught up in the way you were looking at him, the way you were actually listening to him, that he didn’t notice the way Jared’s smirk started to curl. Oh, yeah. This was gonna be fun.

Jared stretched, fake casual, before tilting his head toward you. “So”, he said, wiping his hands on a napkin, “you got a boyfriend?”.

Jensen froze mid-sentence, his pizza halfway to his mouth. You blinked, caught off guard, before letting out a small laugh. “What?”.

Jared smirked, eyes flicking between you and Jensen, deliberately dragging it out.

“You know, besides being Jensen’s little…”, he trailed off, pausing for dramatic effect, then grinned. “…companion”.

Jensen’s brows shot up, his jaw tightening slightly as he set his pizza down with a soft thud. "Dude”, Jensen muttered, his voice low, warning.

Jared just laughed, holding up his hands. “What? It’s a valid question”.

You bit your lip, watching the way Jensen’s whole demeanor shifted, not quite angry, but something close. Possessive. Protective. And Jared saw it too.

Jensen’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a loose fist against the table as he exhaled slowly. Because fuck. Jared was poking the bear, as usual, just to get a reaction—but this time, it actually worked. Because until this exact second, Jensen had never actually thought about it. About you… with someone else. And the realization that it would bother the hell out of him?

Yeah. That was a problem. Because in Jensen’s world—in Hollywood—things were different. Cheating, open arrangements, casual flings, people sleeping around even when they were supposedly with someone else… none of it was uncommon. He’d seen it. Hell, he and danneel had done it themselves.

Jensen's eyes flicked to you, waiting for an answer. Because up until now, he’d never felt the need to ask. Never felt the urge to clarify where you stood. But now it was different. He wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was the way Jared had phrased it. Maybe it was the teasing smirk on his best friend’s face, the way he was waiting to see Jensen react. Or maybe it was because Jensen knew exactly what this world was like.

Hell, he and Danneel had been in one of those marriages, the kind where sleeping with other people wasn’t exactly off the table as long as it stayed quiet. It had worked, for a while. Until it didn’t.

So why did the thought of you with someone else make something hot and bitter coil in his chest? His eyes stayed on you, unreadable, his body too still.

You swallowed, choosing your words carefully. "I don’t really have time for that", you finally said, tilting your head slightly, watching the way Jensen's shoulders stayed tense even after your answer. "Between work and… other things".

Jensen exhaled through his nose, jaw tight, fingers tapping once against the table before he finally leaned back.

"Right", he muttered, taking another sip of his drink.

Jared grinned, catching every damn microexpression Jensen was trying to bury.

"So basically", Jared said, sitting back, looking way too amused, "Jensen doesn’t share, huh?".

Jensen’s head snapped toward him, narrowing his eyes. "Jesus, dude".

You laughed, shaking your head. But Jensen wasn’t laughing. Because for the first time, he wasn’t so sure he liked what this thing between you two was anymore. Because he knew what it wasn’t. Casual.

Jensen tried to play it cool, tried to act like Jared’s words didn’t just expose something he hadn’t even admitted to himself yet. But the truth was? Jared was right. And that pissed him off. Because Jensen doesn’t share. Not when he actually gives a damn. And fuck, somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he’d started giving a damn about you.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, staying quiet, leaning back in his chair like he wasn’t completely rethinking everything, while Jared was having the time of his life.

"Alright, I’m just sayin’", Jared continued, fully enjoying himself now, “for a guy who swears this is just a casual thing, you sure look like you’re about to break something".

Jensen let out a slow breath, glaring at Jared, his voice low, gritted. "You done?".

Jared grinned, popping another piece of pizza into his mouth. "Oh, not even close, man".

You bit your lip, watching the way Jensen’s fingers flexed on the table, his entire posture tense, like he was holding himself back. That was interesting. Because up until now, Jensen was always in control. Always the one calling the shots, always the one dictating what this thing was between you two. But right now, Jared had shaken something loose. And you could see it all over him.

You smirked, playing with the rim of your drink, letting the silence stretch a little longer before finally tilting your head. "So…", you mused, your tone light, teasing, but your words deliberate, "is that true?".

Jensen’s gaze snapped to you, green eyes sharp, something dark and possessive flickering behind them. "Is what true?", he asked, voice low, measured, like he was daring you to push.

You raised a brow. "That you don’t share?".

Jared let out a low whistle, muttering a quiet “oh, shit” under his breath, but neither of you looked at him. This wasn’t about Jared anymore. This was between you and Jensen.

Jensen held your gaze, his expression unreadable, his jaw ticking once before he finally exhaled through his nose, before he leaned in, his forearms resting on the table, his entire focus on you now. "You looking for an answer, sweetheart?", he murmured, his voice gravelly, his eyes locked onto yours.

Your stomach flipped, but you held his gaze, refusing to back down. "Maybe", you mused, feigning nonchalance.

Jensen’s lips curved, but his eyes? Dead serious. "Then listen real close", he muttered, fingers curling slightly against the table. "I don’t".

The air in the room shifted. Your breath hitched, heat flaring through you, but you refused to let him see how much that answer affected you.

Jared, meanwhile, let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, damn", he muttered. "That took a turn".

Jensen ignored him, his gaze still fixed on you, waiting. Waiting to see what you’d say next. What you’d do next. And you? You suddenly had a whole new game to play.

The air was thick now, something heavy and unspoken sitting between you and Jensen. You held his gaze, heart pounding, heat coiling low in your stomach at the way he looked at you. Like he’d just staked a claim. Like he’d just decided something—about you, about this, about whatever the hell it was between you two.

"Well", Jared finally broke the silence, stretching his arms over his head. "This has been wildly entertaining, but I should probably head out before the tension in this room sets something on fire".

You barely registered his words. Because Jensen hadn’t moved. Hadn’t blinked. Hadn’t looked away from you once.

Jared stood up, grabbing his jacket, shaking his head with a low chuckle. "Seriously, man", he muttered, clapping Jensen on the shoulder. "Next time, just write Property of Jensen Ackles on her and save us all the trouble". Jensen gritted his teeth, but before he could snap back, you let out a soft, amused laugh, leaning forward slightly.

"Next time?", you mused, raising a brow. "Sounds like you think there’s gonna be a next time, Jared". Jared’s grin widened, looking between the two of you. "Oh, there’s a next time", he said with full confidence, already heading toward the door. "And the two of you are the last people to figure it out". Jensen let out a low, irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as the door swung shut behind Jared.

Jensen leaned back in his chair, dragging a slow hand down his face before letting out a heavy exhale. "That guy’s a real pain in my ass", he muttered.

You smirked, taking another slow sip of your drink. "Yeah?", you mused, tilting your head. "Because he calls you out on your shit?".

Jensen’s lips twitched, but his eyes were still locked on you, assessing, like he was still trying to figure out exactly what to do with you now. "Because he doesn’t know when to shut the hell up", Jensen corrected, but his voice was lower now, rougher, like his patience was starting to wear thin. And not in a bad way.

Your smirk widened, leaning back in your chair, watching him. "So", you said slowly, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass, playing with him now. "You don’t share, huh?".

Jensen exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle, before suddenly pushing back his chair, standing up, and walking toward you. You swallowed. Oh, shit.

He stopped just beside your chair, looking down at you, one hand braced on the table, the other gripping the back of your chair as he leaned in close. "You think that’s funny?", he murmured, voice gravelly, his breath warm against your skin.

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to hold your ground, tilting your chin up. "A little", you admitted, feigning innocence.

Jensen smirked, but his eyes? Not amused. "Yeah?", he murmured, his fingers brushing your knee, sliding just slightly higher, his touch deliberate, teasing.

Your stomach flipped, your body already reacting, betraying you.

Jensen’s lips brushed your ear, his voice dropping even lower. "Then let me make something real clear, sweetheart", he muttered, his fingers trailing higher, his grip tightening. "You’re mine".

Your breath caught, heat surging through you, your fingers curling against your lap.

Jensen’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk, his voice like gravel and sin as he pulled back just slightly, enough to look you in the eyes. "And I don’t fucking share".

Jensen’s fingers tightened on the back of your chair as he pushed it back, the legs scraping against the hotel floor with a deliberate slowness that sent a shiver down your spine. His green eyes flickered with something dark, something possessive, something that made your pulse skip as he tilted his head slightly, watching you. "Get on the bed". His voice was low, firm, certain. It wasn’t a request.

Your breath caught, heat curling deep in your stomach, because—fuck. He was serious. You swallowed, your body thrumming with anticipation, but you held his gaze, refusing to break the tension. "That an order?", you mused, challenging him, just to see how far you could push.

Jensen’s smirk was dangerous, his fingers dragging slowly along the edge of the table as he leaned in just a little. "You wanna find out what happens if you don’t listen?", he murmured, voice rough, his tone dripping with warning.

Your stomach flipped, a pulse of heat shooting through you, because yeah, you wanted to find out. But you also knew this was a game Jensen would win every time. So, instead of pushing further, you let out a slow, steady exhale, keeping your movements deliberate as you slowly stood up, your chair nudging back against the table.

Jensen’s eyes tracked every step you took as you moved toward the bed, his jaw ticking slightly, his fingers flexing at his sides, like he was holding himself back.

The second the back of your knees hit the mattress, you stopped, tilting your head. "Now what?", you asked, voice light, teasing.

Jensen let out a low, amused chuckle, shaking his head as he stepped closer—slow, predatory, his hands slipping into his pockets like he wasn’t already planning a hundred different ways to ruin you. He stopped in front of you, his body close, towering, his heat pressing into yours without even touching you.

He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice pure gravel. "Now?". His hands slid to your hips, fingers curling into the fabric of your waistband, his touch possessive, claiming. "Now I make sure you don’t forget exactly who you belong to".

His hands gripped your waist, pushing you back onto the bed in one smooth motion, making you gasp, your body bouncing slightly against the mattress.

Your heart hammered, heat surging through your veins, but you still had the nerve to smirk up at him. "Possessive much?", you mused, tilting your head, even as your thighs pressed together in anticipation.

Jensen let out a low, dark chuckle, his hands trailing slowly down your legs, eyes locked onto yours as he hooked his fingers under your waistband. "You think that’s news, sweetheart?", he murmured, his voice gravelly, dangerous, teasing.

Without warning, he yanked your yoga pants down, slow enough to make you ache, his eyes darkening as more of you was revealed, his jaw clenching slightly. Because there it was. The lingerie. The one you’d put on just for him. The one he hadn’t gotten the chance to fully appreciate earlier because of Jared.

Jensen’s breath came out slow, measured, his fingers tracing over the delicate lace, his eyes tracking every little reaction you gave him. "Yeah, see…", he murmured, gritting his teeth as his hands spanned your thighs, holding you in place. "This? This is a problem".

You swallowed hard, watching the way his entire demeanor shifted, like he was holding himself back just enough to make you lose your mind. "A problem?", you echoed, feigning innocence, even as your body betrayed you, reacting to every little movement, every little touch.

Jensen let out a slow, low hum, his fingers pressing in just enough to make your thighs twitch. "Yeah", he said, tilting his head. "Because you put this on knowing damn well what it would do to me". His voice dropped even lower, his fingers dragging over the lace with slow, lazy strokes, teasing, taunting, making your breath stutter. "And now?". His smirk was dark, satisfied, knowing. "Now I gotta do something about it".

Jensen’s hands tightened on your thighs, his fingers teasing over the delicate lace just enough to make your skin burn.

Your breath hitched, anticipation curling through you, but you still had the nerve to smirk up at him, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you. "Do something about it, then", you murmured, challenging him, your voice low, teasing.

Jensen’s jaw ticked, his green eyes darkening, tracking every little reaction you gave him. "Sweetheart", he murmured, his fingers hooking under the lace, tugging it just slightly, letting it snap back against your skin in a way that sent a sharp pulse of heat through you. "You really shouldn’t test me right now".

Your stomach flipped, but you refused to break, tilting your head, pushing him just a little further. "Or what?", you mused, voice light, feigning innocence.

Jensen let out a low, dark chuckle, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh, slow, deliberate, his breath steady, controlled—but barely. "You really wanna find out?", he muttered, voice like gravel and sin, his thumb brushing over the lace, teasing exactly where you needed him the most.

Your breath stuttered, your thighs clenching, and Jensen saw it—felt it—his smirk deepening in satisfaction.

"Yeah", he murmured, more to himself than to you, his fingers pressing just slightly harder. "That’s what I thought".

You swallowed, trying to keep control, but the way he was watching you, the way his fingers were barely touching you but still unraveling you completely—it was too much. Your nails dug into the sheets, your body already betraying you, and Jensen knew it.

"You wanna play games, sweetheart?", he murmured, his other hand sliding up your stomach, pushing the hem of his own damn shirt higher on your body.

Your pulse pounded, heat curling low in your belly.

Jensen leaned in, his breath hot against your skin, his lips brushing just below your ear. "Let me remind you who always wins".

Jensen’s smirk turned dangerous, his fingers still teasing over the lace, feeling the way your body reacted to him, the way your breathing had already shifted. His hands left you suddenly, making you whimper at the loss, but before you could even process it— "Take it off". His voice was low, firm, completely in control.

You blinked, your breath catching slightly. "What?".

Jensen reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside like it was nothing. "The shirt. Off. Now".

Your stomach flipped, heat rushing through you as your fingers gripped the fabric, your body already obeying before you could even think about it. Your pulse pounded as you pulled Jensen’s shirt over your head, exposing more of the lingerie you’d picked just for him, the air cool against your bare skin.

Jensen’s eyes darkened immediately. His jaw tensed, his green gaze tracking every inch of you, lingering on the lace, on the way it hugged you perfectly, leaving just enough to his imagination—but not nearly enough to satisfy him. "Fuck, sweetheart". His voice was low, gritted, his fingers working at the button of his jeans, shoving them down in one smooth motion, never breaking eye contact.

Your breath hitched, your thighs pressing together as you watched him undress, every lean, toned inch of him revealed, your mouth going dry.

Jensen saw it.

And he grinned, running a hand through his hair, his eyes flickering with something heated, something dangerous. "You gonna just sit there staring, or you gonna lay back and let me show you exactly what happens when you push me".

Your stomach flipped once more, heat surging through you, but you still held his gaze, refusing to back down. "Maybe I like pushing you", you murmured, your voice lighter than you felt inside.

Jensen let out a low, amused chuckle, shaking his head as he crawled onto the bed, his body looming over yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress. "Yeah?", he muttered, his breath brushing over your lips, his fingers sliding along the lace strap of your bra, snapping it just slightly, enough to make you shiver. "Then you’re gonna love what happens next".

Jensen’s eyes never left yours as he reached down, his fingers hooking under the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down with zero hesitation.

And fuck—you barely had a second to process how good he looked, how absolutely wrecked he already seemed for you—before his hands were on you again. One firm grip on your waist, the other pressing against your back, flipping you onto your stomach with no effort at all. You gasped, your fingers bracing against the sheets, but before you could even think about moving, Jensen’s hands were on your hips, pulling you back—hard.

“Fucking tease”, he muttered, his voice low, gritted.

Your breath came out shaky, your body reacting immediately, your back arching as he aligned himself behind you, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you firmly in place.

He exhaled sharply, his lips brushing over your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin.

"You wanna push me, sweetheart?", he murmured, his voice dark, dangerous, his grip tightening, holding you still as he dragged himself right against you, teasing, taunting.

Your body shuddered, heat coiling deep in your stomach, but you refused to break, your fingers curling into the sheets.

Jensen let out a low, amused chuckle, his hands trailing down your sides, over the lace, his lips brushing against the nape of your neck. "Hope you know what you started", he muttered, his voice thick with pure need.

Because now, he was gonna make sure you felt this for days.

Jensen’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin with a bruising intensity, like he was marking you, making damn sure you knew exactly who you belonged to.

In one sharp, unrelenting thrust, he pushed inside you, stretching you completely, forcing a gasping moan from your lips as he filled you in one stroke.

"Fuck, sweetheart", Jensen groaned, his voice low, gritted, strained, his forehead momentarily dropping against your bare shoulder as he adjusted to the way you clenched around him.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, your back arching, your body thrumming with heat and pleasure and something deeper than either of those things.

He didn’t give you a second to recover—didn’t give himself one either.

Jensen’s hands slid up your waist, up your back, gripping the straps of your lace bra, using them as leverage as he snapped his hips forward again, dragging a choked moan from your lips.

"Yeah, that’s it, baby", he muttered, his voice like gravel and sin, his hands controlling every movement, every push, every pull. "You feel that?", he gritted out, pulling back just enough to make you whimper before thrusting deep again, hitting that spot that made your entire body tremble.

Your breath came out ragged, your moans helpless, your body completely at his mercy as he set a pace that had you already unraveling.

Jensen let out a low chuckle, his lips brushing over your shoulder, his voice teasing, wrecked, but still so in control.

"Yeah, you love pushing me, huh?", he muttered, his grip tightening, his pace relentless. "Let’s see how much you can take".

Jensen’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he slammed into you again, his pace unforgiving, completely in control.

Your moans spilled into the sheets, your back arching instinctively, your body taking everything he gave you.

"Fuck, sweetheart", Jensen groaned, his voice low, rough, his breath hot against your skin. "You feel how deep I am?".

You could only whimper, your nails clawing at the sheets, because yes—you felt it. All of it. Every inch, every deliberate thrust, every time he buried himself inside you like he was staking a claim.

Jensen let out a gritty chuckle, his chest pressing against your back as he leaned over you, his lips grazing your ear, his pace never faltering. "Not so cocky now, huh?", he murmured, his voice teasing, but wrecked all the same.

Your stomach clenched, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps, but you still managed to push back against him, earning a sharp groan from Jensen.

That did something to him.

His hands left your waist, grabbing your wrists, pulling them behind your back, pinning you beneath him as his pace quickened, harder, deeper, relentless.

"Shit, Jay", you gasped, your body trembling, pleasure coiling so tight you could barely breathe.

Jensen’s grip on your wrists tightened, his lips brushing against your jaw, your shoulder, his voice gritted, desperate, possessive. "That’s it, baby. Take it. All of it".

And you did. Because he wasn’t giving you a choice.

Your entire body tightened, your back arching, your breath catching in your throat as the pleasure hit you full force. "Jensen—", you gasped, your voice breaking, your thighs shaking as the orgasm ripped through you, wave after relentless wave.

Jensen let out a low, guttural groan, feeling you clench around him, his grip on your wrists tightening, his body throbbing with need as he kept driving into you, dragging it out, making sure you felt every second of it.

"Fuck—," he gritted out, his rhythm stuttering for the first time, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force, his breath hot against your ear.

Your legs nearly gave out, your body completely wrecked, but Jensen didn’t let up. Didn’t let you come down. His pace stayed brutal, chasing his own release, using your body like it belonged to him. And fuck, you wanted it to. "That’s it, sweetheart", Jensen muttered, voice rough, wrecked, his hands tight on your waist, keeping you right where he wanted you. "Fucking perfect—".

His thrusts grew erratic, his breath gritted, his body tensing against yours. With a low, wrecked groan, he buried himself deep, his fingers digging into your skin, his release spilling inside you, hot, overwhelming, endless.

He stilled, his forehead dropping against your shoulder, his breath ragged, his hands still holding you tight, grounding both of you.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your uneven breathing, the heat between your bodies, the aftermath of everything that just happened.

Jensen let out a slow, shaky breath, finally loosening his grip, letting your hands go, his fingers tracing over the marks he’d just left on your skin.

He smirked against your shoulder, his lips brushing over your damp skin as he whispered, "Yeah. You’re not going anywhere".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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