angies shirt

Austin Nights Part 2

Pairing: Single!Jensen × Reader

Word Count: 3070

Summary: The reader lives in Austin and unknowingly runs into Jensen at a bonfire and sparks fly. Part 1 After abruptly leaving the party, the reader hopes to run into Jay again.

Obviously I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time.

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors.


Saturdays were your favorite days. No school, no kids, and you especially appreciated no alarm clocks. You woke up a bit later than usual considering you had not been able to fall asleep easily as you replayed the rush of last night over and over again in your head. The sun peaked through the blinds and you stretched in bed. You could hear Angie in the other room dealing with what sounded like a pretty awful hangover.

As your feet hit the floor, a sense of urgency hit you. You wanted to see him again and the only way to do that would be to scale the streets of Austin. No. You tried to repress the feeling. One, there is no way he would even remember you. Two, he probably found some other chick as there as probably a line of willing subjects after you ditched the fire. Three, even if he did remember you, there was no way you were just going to run into him by chance. But it would be nice to get out and do something anyways you compromised as an excuse.

After you got ready fairly quickly, you went to find Angie who seemed to be recovering just fine.

“Hey.” You chirped. “Up for bloody marys and brunch?”

“Um, yes! That’s the best idea you ever had.” She instantly jumped up and grabbed her purse.

At brunch, Angie gushed over Jared and how unbelievably nice he was. You tired to play it cool but threw in a question every now and then about how to find them or if she knew anything about how long they would be here. She was just as clueless as you. The two of you walked up and down SoCo window shopping and trying to get ideas of how to redecorate the apartment. You couldn’t help but feel you were only half involved in the process as you kept scanning the crowds for a glimpse of someone familiar.

Angie tired out quickly and abandoned you to take a nap in preparation for her plans tonight which you knew meant she wanted to do something but had no idea what. You headed downtown and picked up some records at Waterloo and settled down at BookPeople. You wasted a couple of hours browsing through books and worked a bit on creating a few therapy based activities for some of the children at the school.

When you finally made it back home you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed but tried to remind yourself of what you had concluded earlier. Angie was lounging about.

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Crimsennui Week, Day Three : Ungoth 

Mornings are tough, especially when you have to go to bed without your makeup, wig, and contact lens.
Don’t talk to them until they’ve had their coffee

The Sweetest things Can Hurt Us the Most

Everybody makes mistakes, but sometimes you’ve got to make it obvious to the traumatised child they you’re caring for that mistakes aren’t the end of the world. 


There was a loud crash and a scream.

Fuck Stanley thought as he struggled to get up, his arms not used to their new size. Dammit I fucked up , he screamed in his mind as he realised that the pain from having hot chocolate spill onto him contributed to that struggle. But he didn’t have time to waste; he needed to get up before someone heard. Thankfully he hadn’t gotten any of his drink on his legs when he dropped it.

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A spitting image of Howard Stark, male and mustached and smirking, leaning against the door frame, wasn’t what Angie expected when the door to 3E swung open. “Well you sure ain’t English,” she said in greeting.

“I’m Peggy’s cousin.” The man smiled at her, eyebrows practically waggling.

“Right,” Angie swept her gaze up the man’s body, crossing her arms as she continued, “And I’m from Oz. Peggy in?”

Shifting, moving his weight to block Angie’s attempts to see over and around him, the man chuckled. “Ah, no. She’s at work. Won’t be back for hours.”

Angie nodded. “Right,” she repeated, frowning, completely unconvinced, “You here because…?”

The man squinted at her, as if surprised she was bothering to follow up his story. Grabbing the door frame, using it to hold his weight as he leaned forward, he glanced up and down the hallway, doing his best to conceal it as flirting with her. When he was satisfied that he wasn’t in danger from a preachy Mrs. Fry dropping in on him, he graced Angie with a dazzling, assured smile. “She missed me. Wanted me to drop in for a while.”

Angie didn’t believe that for a second.

“But enough about good ol’ Pegs.” The man stepped out into the hall, making Angie step back; he kept a hand back to make sure the door didn’t close on him, “Want to show me around?”

Angie almost cold cocked him. Instead, she closed her eyes, rolling them behind her eyelids, then shook her head for good measure. “That might work on the other girls,” she offered flatly, “But it won’t work on me.” Opening her eyes, she pinned the man with her gaze, sticking her finger into his chest. “Look. I know what you’re up to, and it’s not gonna happen. You may not be Peggy’s cousin, and you sure as hell look enough like Howard Stark it’s mighty suspicious, but I don’t care.” She dropped her hand. “I’m not gonna turn you in because it’d make trouble for Peggy.”

The man cocked his head. “Wait,” he smiled, looking less surprised than before, when her finger had been jabbing into him, “You’re Angie, aren’t you?”

Angie flushed. She crossed her arms again. “So what if I am?”

“Then,” the man stepped back, pushing open the door, “I may have lied before. Peggy’ll be back soon. Join me for spirits and cards in the meantime?”

Angie believed that. She also believed that the man did look bored enough with every other eligible woman on the floor out at the moment. "Only if you agree to keep your hands to yourself,“ she replied, pointing at him as she walked past him, taking in the barely clutter-changed room of her friend, thinking that honestly, if she hadn’t have known that the man was there in the first place, she may not have noticed any overt evidence that Peggy wasn’t alone. Taking a seat at one of the chairs pressed up close to the table where the latest newspaper sat, unfurled to the business pages, she raised her eyebrows as soon as the man closed and locked the door after her, pulling out his own seat before picking up at least two frayed decks of cards. "And if you tell me your name,” she added, pressing further.

Halting his shuffling, the man squinted at her again. Taking the time to set aside the cards to pull out a half-full bottle of whiskey from under the table, reaching out to grab two clean glasses from the sink next to him, he poured two fingers in each. “You a rock girl?”

Angie rolled her eyes again. Ice just watered down the alcohol. “Just give me the drink." 

The man tipped his own drink in a toast to her, taking a quick, deep swill before Angie got her fingers on the one he pushed at her. "Girl after my own heart,” he cleared his throat after swallowing, smirking at her. His eyes flashed. “And you can call me Howard.”

Angie slammed her glass down, swallowing over half of the alcohol he’d poured for her. “I knew it!” she pointed at him again, her finger wagging, lips quirking up.

Howard raised his eyebrows, picking up the whiskey bottle in a silent question of if she wanted more. When Angie pushed her hand over her drink to signify that no, at the moment she was okay, he nodded, refilling his own glass. “Rumino?”

Grinning, Angie waved her hand for him to go ahead and deal. “Surprised you know it,” she commented, reaching for the pen at the side of the table to start keeping score in the margins of the newspaper. It was, after all, the closest source of paper.

Howard wiggled his eyebrows then, mustache curving up along with his lips as he dealt them the requisite seven cards each. “I think you’ll find that I know many things.”

Angie laughed. “Shut up and play,” she directed, sweeping up her cards. Then, looking over them as Howard dropped the rest between them, turning over the top of the discard pile, she let a wide, almost sleazy grin take over her face. Folding her hand down so no one could look at it, she broached, “We gonna bet anything?”

Pausing in the middle of checking his own hand, Howard looked up, a sure, cocky smile of his own spreading across his face. “What would you suggest?”

Letting him refill her glass when he offered again, Angie leaned forward, her elbows solidly on the table, fingers brushing her hair away from her eyes and forehead. “How ‘bout secrets?” she asked, almost boasting, not expecting the man in front of her to agree.

Except Howard, fueled by ego and surety and spirits (and turned down when he suggested removing threads instead), did agree.

Which meant, less than an hour later when Peggy slipped in, calling for Howard and jerking in surprise when she realized Angie was there as well, proudly slamming down a winning hand that made the named billionaire groan and throw his losing cards down at the table, grumbling and reaching up to loosen the collar of his shirt, Angie wasn’t completely surprised to see that Peggy was worse for wear, hair mussed and face tired.

So, figuring, rationalizing that was the reality of the life of a double agent, Angie did the only thing she could think of doing: “Come on, English,” she smiled, flashing her teeth, sitting back in her seat and tempering her expression to be accepting, taking a sip of her drink as she reminded Howard to pour the Englishwoman a drink of her own, eyes sweeping up and down the other woman’s body to see if she was okay, “Join the fun.”

“The fun?” Peggy asked, incredibly skeptical, slowly taking the last seat at the table. She glanced at Howard before turning, staring at Angie as if trying to discern, uncomfortably, what it was between the two she’d found in her room. “What are you doing here?”

Angie, however, ignored her and dealt another hand between the three of them. “Rumino,” she offered, “You know it?”

Peggy groaned, picking up her hand while watching Howard pour her a nice couple fingers of whiskey into a new glass for her, smirking up at her. She did indeed know Rumino. 

What she didn't know, however, Peggy added mentally, eyeing Angie and glaring at Howard in turn, was what she should do with this new connection between her old friend and… Well… Her heart fluttered, uncomfortable in her chest, unsure and hesitant… Other… Newer friend…?

I had to do this. Sorry. (Not really, though) Hope this is okay with you connectingsmalldots!

F**cking Peggy Carter

Peggy tried to focus on the spreadsheet on the screen in front of her, but she wasn’t having much success. It was late afternoon, and rather than go into her office that morning, she’d chosen to work from home for the day. She supposed sitting on the couch in tank tops and baggy sweats was one of the few perks of overseeing a covert branch of anti-terrorist U.S. organization that required her to be on call 24/7.

Dragging her eyes back to the screen, she forced herself to retain the information before her. She’d been doing this since Angie left for her shift at the café earlier that morning, and honestly, she was pretty much over the movement of Eastern European warheads. It might not be the most mature attitude, but it was the truth.

When the front door slammed shut, and she heard Angie’s excited, “Pegs? You home?!” she closed the lid to her laptop, grateful for an excuse to be done with everything. At least for a while.

“In the study,” she called back, stretching her arms above her head and breathing in.

Angie bounded into the room, a package tucked under her arm, and Peggy barely had time to register her appearance before the younger woman launched herself at the couch and into Peggy’s open arms. She felt Angie’s lips crash against hers and then she was being thoroughly kissed even as Angie wrapped her gorgeous legs around Peggy’s waist.

A few moments later, Angie pulled back, eyes beaming. “Hiya, Pegs!”

Peggy chuckled and leaned forward to tuck a lock of stray hair behind Angie’s ear as she tried to steady her breathing.

“Well, hello to you, darling,” she smiled. “What brought that on?”

“What? A girl can’t miss her favorite Director?” she teased, stealing another kiss as she slid her arms around Peggy’s neck.

“Angie, you know I’ve asked you not to call me that,” Peggy groaned, but Angie merely grinned.

“And yet, that’s what you are. So, the name stays.” She pressed her hips forward to bump against Peggy’s, earning a soft moan for her efforts.

Peggy’s hands quickly found their way to Angie’s hips, and she pulled her girlfriend closer. “What’s gotten into you, today?” she chuckled.

“Nothing… yet,” Angie smirked and lifted a flirtatious eyebrow.

Peggy laughed and shifted her hips, because honestly, two could play at this game. Angie didn’t disappoint, a faint moan escaping her lips as her eyes briefly fluttered closed. When they opened again, Angie’s tongue peeked out from between her teeth and she shook her head.

“You’re such a tease, Peggy Carter.”

“I’m the tease?” Peggy asked incredulously. “I believe you’re the one who came bounding into the room and accosted me.” She looked at Angie thoughtfully. “At least, I don’t recall ordering a bouncing girlfriend.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” Angie exclaimed reaching down to pick up the package that had fallen to the floor. “My order came in!”

“What order?”

“My order!” Angie repeated. “Remember?”

Confusion danced in Peggy’s eyes. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m afraid I don’t know what you talking about.”

“Peggy,” Angie sighed in exasperation. “The shirts.”

“Still not following.”

“I ordered us shirts. I told you over dinner a few weeks ago.”

Peggy’s eyes lit up in comprehension. “Ah yes! I do recall you mentioning something about ordering us shirts. But I don’t think you ever told me anything else about them.”

Angie grinned and began tearing open the package. “That’s because it’s a surprise!”

“So surprise me,” Peggy teased and leaned back, eyes watching Angie expectantly as she finished pulling the white envelope apart. The younger woman reached in and pulled out two white T-shirts, each neatly folded and wrapped in clear packaging.

Angie glanced at both before smiling and handing one to Peggy.

“Am I going to like this?” she asked warily, recalling some of the questionable clothing choices Angie had purchased for her in the past.

Angie giggled. “I dunno if you will, but I know I will!”

With a sigh, Peggy removed the plastic and unfolded the shirt until it hung between her hands. She winced as she read the black text emblazoned across the front.

“Angie,” she groaned. “Why would you ever think this was a good idea?

“It’s not a good idea,” Angie enthused, taking the shirt from Peggy and holding it up against her own chest. “It’s a great idea!”

Peggy stared at her and then read the shirt again, this time aloud.

“I’m Peggy fucking Carter.”

Angie giggled again. “Yes, you definitely are.”

“You realize I can never wear that in public,” Peggy informed her.

“Well, duh,” Angie nodded, “But you can wear it around the house.”

“Seems a bit wasteful, if you ask me,” Peggy frowned.

Angie wrinkled her nose and placed the shirt back against Peggy. “Quit being such a spoilsport, English,” she admonished. “Besides, you haven’t seen mine yet!”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Peggy muttered. “There’s more?”

Angie shot her a playful scowl before pulling her shirt out of the package. Setting it aside, she reached down and grasped the bottom of the shirt she currently wore and tugged it over her head, before tossing it carelessly on the floor.

Peggy’s annoyance quickly vanished at the sight of her girlfriend straddling her wearing nothing but a lacy, turquoise bra. Her hands immediately moved to Angie’s bare hips and began stroking the skin there.

“I must say I like this look,” she murmured. Her hands slipped upwards to palm the soft weight hidden behind the lace material.

“Not fair,” Angie sighed, her own hands coming to rest on Peggy’s arms.

Peggy grinned wickedly. “Who ever said I fought fair?” Her hands moved to the back of Angie’s bra and quickly made short work of the clasp there. When the thin fabric fell away, Peggy’s hands resumed their eager caress, and the shirt in Angie’s hands slipped to the floor forgotten.

“Well, that was nice,” Angie murmured into the smooth skin of her girlfriend’s neck.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it,” Peggy agreed, fingers casually trailing through the younger woman’s brown curls.

Angie stretched and felt Peggy’s hand shift from her hip until it comfortably palmed her bare backside. “I gotta admit, this wasn’t what I envisioned when I came home today.”

“Is that bad thing?”

“Mmmm,” Angie shook her head. “Not at all. This was a very good thing.”

Peggy smiled and shifted. “Delighted to hear it.” She glanced around the study, taking in the shadows that had slowly found their way in while she and Angie had been occupied with other pursuits. She realized they should probably eat soon, and, as much as she hated to admit it, she should probably take another look at the spreadsheet that’d given so many problems earlier. She was just about to gently nudge Angie away when her eyes landed on the white shirt, still somewhat folded, sitting on the floor beside the couch.

“You know, darling,” she began, leaning up to deposit a kiss on Angie’s nose, “You never did show me your shirt.”

Peggy felt Angie shake against her naked body and realized her girlfriend was laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Angie just shook her head and pushed herself up until she was straddling Peggy once more.

“No, seriously. What?”

“You’ll see,” Angie promised, reaching down for the shirt. “I mean, I knew it was appropriate when I ordered it, but I didn’t think it would appropriate so soon,” she giggled. She poked her head through the larger opening and then pulled it down until the snug shirt hugged her curves. An impish grin lit up her face, and she bit her lower lip when Peggy’s eyes widened as she read the block lettering emblazoned across Angie’s breasts.

I’m fucking Peggy Carter

Peggy felt a hot blush flood her cheeks, and her eyes slid shut in both embarrassment and amusement. Angie’s delighted giggles enveloped her and then she was being kissed, small, warm hands running along her bare skin until they settled between her legs again, finding Peggy already wet and wanting.

When Angie’s lips left hers to trail heated kisses along her neck, Peggy opened her eyes and smiled between breathless gasps.

“Apropos, indeed.“