#jensen in t shirts

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles | Purgatory Con, Düsseldorf, Germany, May 26, 2024 [x]

[samanddean76]

After almost two years of planning, I finally went to my first Creation Con. And what a joy it was. #ChiCon 2024 was incredible, not only for the onstage twirling of Jared across Jensen's shoulder's, (which I did see and will never forget), but for all of my obsessive planning paying off in the best way possible. Thanks to eBay, Red Bubble, and one dedicated woman at Wayward Plaids, I was prepared to go to the con dressed as Sam. With my jelly bracelets, the purple dog t-shirt, the iconic blue and gray striped shirt, and the brown Puma's (which fit me and I did indeed wear). As I walked up for the first picture, which was J2 with Baby, I went completely non-verbal, which was slightly problematic as I needed to at least be able to say hello to them. But one of the fellow con goers had suggested I take the shoe off and have it in my hand, which I did. And Jared, being the incredible human that he is, gave me the biggest smile, took the shoe from me, and remarked that it was the real one. All I could do was smile and nod as words were completely gone. He then commented on both shirts, and as I had apparently forgotten pictures needed to be taken, he turned me around so that I was facing the camera. It was then that I remembered what I had also forgotten to do, and turned to give a huge smile to Jensen, who smiled back, said hi, and I am quite certain I melted a little. They pulled me in for a double one-sided hug, and Chris took the picture. Which turned out better than I had hoped it might. Standing between J2, wearing one shoe, and having one socked foot on display.

The next day, I had the J2 inside photo op, and as I was a little less terrified, I actually managed a few words, or more specifically, a request. I walked up to Jensen and asked if I could please have a double squish hug. The man smiled at me and said, "Sure thing, darlin'." In his amazing soft Texas drawl, and I ended up getting my second amazing photo of the con. While I never would have known without getting the digital copies of the pictures that feature the uncropped versions, I was ever so glad that I had spent the extra ten bucks. Because I was given this incredible gift...

His foot, up on the toes, just tickles me. Plus, the actual squish hug was amazing! Last but not least, was the photo that I had planned everything around. My version of Sam meeting Jared and getting a hug. It was the third time that he had seen me, and I might have stood out a little. I walked up, grinning like a loon, and asked for a hug, please. He said, "I love your outfit, darlin'", and then pulled me in.

For me, this was an amazing highlight. For Jared to have actually seen me. For him to have noticed all that I had done and all the effort I had put forth, it gave me such joy. And while I may never go to another con, the memories from this one will keep me smiling for years to come.

[jensensgotyoudean]

Screen shots from Jensen’s TTPOA video (x)

[shedontlovehuhself]

The little blurb from the seller is sweet and explains why he donated his clothes.

So some of Misha's clothes are being auctioned off...

Aaanddd i spy with my little eye...

X

[lilacpaperbird]

whoooo do I need to pay to make a fucking sam winchester eras tour t shirt i'm going to scream i need it

[deancrowleycas]

The year is 2024. A robot is flirting with Misha Collins and his blue eyes. You are blogging about it on Tumblr. Somewhere in the back, Jensen Ackles is writing his reboot plans on a T-shirt. You hear the faint voice of "I love you, Dean" in your head 24/7. The angel is gay.

[natsrockysbar]

https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/38576440-love

i made some designs on tee public :) this whole lotta love led zeppelin one is my fav!! 🫶

[sasquatchandleatherjacket]

oh the answer remains no

Will either J ever be in something I want to watch ever again? 😔

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Sweet Not Home

Summary: The reader wakes up in bed next to a familiar but oh so strange man...

Pairing: Jensen x hunter!reader

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Hooo boy enjoy this one!

You felt warm when you began to stir awake. There was a heavy blanket on you that was nice, not out of the ordinary for Dean to pile an extra one on the bed while you were sleeping. You rolled over in bed, smashing your face in a bare chest.

“Morning,�� Dean mumbled. His voice wasn’t as deep and you wondered if he was coming down with something. You blinked open your eyes, resting your hands on his chest, running them down briefly before you cocked your head.

“Where’s your tattoo?” you asked carefully, putting your hand on his pec, ready to use your nails in the shifter’s flesh as a distraction. But this Dean was chuckling, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

“S’on my shoulder like always, silly,” he said, yawning and sighing softly. “You okay? You’re tense.”

You shifted your head up, noticing the white headboard, eyes darting around to see soft light colored walls, a large balcony door and a window overlooking a grassy backyard and pool.

“What the…” you said, standing and hopping out of bed, glad that you were at least in the t shirt and shorts you remembered falling asleep in. You went over to the door and pulled it open, Dean out of bed and moving to the other side of the room, hitting something on a white thermostat looking thing.

“Honey,” he said, walking over as you stood on the small balcony, leaning over the railing to look at a patio and some trees. “Y/N. Everything alright?”

“Where…” you asked, Dean sighing.

“We’re in Austin,” he said, running his hand gently over your head. You turned to look up at him, spotting him in a pair of navy boxers that he normally wore.

“Austin?” you asked, his arm sporting the tattoo he mentioned before but it wasn’t an anti-possession one.

“Okay,” he said, gently resting his hands on your shoulders and pulling you back into the very nice bedroom, soft carpet under your toes. He sat you on the bed and kneeled down in front of you. “The doctor said this might happen so that’s why he gave us the list of questions, remember?”

You had no idea what the hell was going on but you just shrugged, this guy very kind for a shifter if he was one.

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked with a smile.

“Y/N,” you said.

“Your full name, sweetie,” he said, still smiling.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, the smile wiping off his face.

“That’s your maiden name,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “S’okay. We’ll keep going. What’s today’s date?”

“Um,” you said, thinking for a moment, Dean cocking his head when you answered.

“That’s right,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. “Does your head hurt, honey?”

“My head? Why would my head hurt?” you asked.

“We were in a car accident two days ago. They were concerned you had a concussion. Last night was the first time you were at home. Do you not remember any of this?” he asked.

“Dean, I don’t-”

“Dean? You know I love a good joke but now is not the time, Y/N,” said Dean. You swallowed hard, Dean putting a hand on your head. “What’s my name?”

“I…” you said, looking around the room for any kind of clue. Something had happened after your witch hunt obviously. Same name, different person. You were still Y/N where ever you were but a different version, paired up with a different Dean that apparently wasn’t named Dean. You were well off if your yard was anything to go off of so you definitely weren’t hunters. “I’m just tired. Sweetie.”

“Nice try. What’s my name?” he asked again.

“Honestly?” you asked. He nodded, curiously looking up at you. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s alright,” he said, very good at hiding the flash of concern that showed up on his face. “Do you-“

A phone started to ring, Not Dean ignoring it in favor for paying attention to you.

“Do you remember how we met at all?” he asked.

“Working a job,” you said, his face twitching up.

“That’s right,” he said, tilting his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m just...messing with you,” you said, the man pouting. He opened his mouth but a doorbell rang somewhere, the man getting to his feet.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he said, walking over to a closed door, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a shirt from the floor as he went. The second he was out of the door you started to look around, trying to find clues about who he was. You could always make a break for it but in pajamas you didn’t think you’d get far, especially with this guy’s sweet husband thing he had going on.

You walked through an open door to a bathroom, cutting through it to find a closet. You sighed, wishing you’d found something with a name until you jogged back to the nightstand, a wallet on top.

“Yes,” you said, ripping it open and pulling out a Texas license. “Okay. Jensen Ackles. 6’ 1��. Organ donor. Well that’s nice and all but I still know nothing.”

You started to dig through the wallet, mostly credit and reward cards, some cash and a business card with a doctor’s name and number. There was a faded picture of him and a woman that looked exactly like you, the worn edges saying it was probably at least five years old.

You put the wallet back when you heard him coming, sitting back in your spot on the bed, trying to seem relaxed.

“Who was at the door, Jensen?” you asked innocently, Jensen lifting his chin.

“Kid up the street. Girl Scout cookies. I ordered you some thin mints,” he said, padding around to the side of the bed, arms crossed. “Don’t pull shit like that again. It’s not funny. You know how freaked I was after the accident.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, his face briefly looking hard before he started to drag his toes through the carpet.

“I get this feeling you’re lying to me,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’ve known you forever, kiddo. You have that look on your face.”

It’d be easy to lie and make something up. It’d be easy to fake a concussion too. Telling the truth would probably get you thrown in an institution.

Jensen tilted his head and walked over to you suddenly, grabbing your underwear and pulling the band down an inch.

“Hey!” you barked at him, kneeing him hard, Jensen falling to the floor.

“You don’t have a tattoo,” he said, getting to his feet slowly, pressing his thumb against your hip, wiping over your anti-possession one. “That’s real.”

He backed away from you, looking you up and down.

“You would never hit me like that because you know I don’t touch you like that and…” he said, tilting his head as he stared at your leg. “You don’t have a scar on your thigh. What…”

“Jensen...take a breather for me buddy,” you said, Jensen shaking his head. “I can explain.”

“Am I nuts? You’re not my...did I die in that accident? Is this some-“

“Dude! Chill. You’re not dead,” you said, Jensen eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re fine. I’m the one that’s…”

“Not my wife?” he said, closing his eyes. “This is one of those freaky weird dreams that seems super real. That’s what it is. You definitely aren’t-“

“Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said. “Hate to break it to you.”

“I was going to say, Reese,” he said. “You know, the character you play on a tv show. Now would be a great time to tell me this is a very in-depth prank.”

“Me? On TV? I have done some crazy stuff but that…” you said, Jensen nodding his head at you. “You’re freaking out.”

“Just a little,” he said. You hummed.

“I guess I have to give you the civilian talk,” you said.

“The what?” he asked.

“Just take a seat, Jensen.”

_________

[cheynovak]

Passed the test of time

Summary:  Y/N sees Jensen sitting in their living room. Staring at the man she loves so much, glad he is home for a few day. Deciding she wants a little cuddle.

Warnings: None, all fluff

English isn't my first language

A little ons shot

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

I leaned against the living room doorframe, my eyes tracing the lines of his familiar form as he sat on the couch, absorbed in whatever was playing on the TV. Jensen had only just gotten home yesterday, and though his schedule had been packed with long days on set and fan conventions, he'd barely had time to catch his breath. Yet, here he was, a picture of quiet contentment, immersed in the show that flickered on the screen.

The soft light from the TV cast a gentle glow across his face, highlighting the strong lines of his jaw and the rugged stubble that had grown during his busy days. His brows were slightly furrowed, a sign of his focus, but the corners of his mouth hinted at a smile, a sign that despite his weariness, he was happy. His green eyes, usually so lively and bright, were now softened with a tiredness he couldn't quite hide, but they still held that unmistakable spark of passion for what he did.

Jensen's broad shoulders, slightly slouched, told of the exhaustion that weighed on him, but even in his tired state, he was the most handsome man I had ever seen. His hair, a tousled mix of chestnut and gold, was still perfectly messy, as if it had been styled by some secret breeze only meant for him. The way his t-shirt clung to his chest, just snug enough to hint at the muscles beneath, made my heart flutter. He was effortlessly captivating, even in this simple, quiet moment.

I could have stood there forever, just watching him, my heart swelling with love and admiration for the man who had captured it so completely. Jensen, my Jensen, was home, and there was nothing more perfect than this moment, just being here with him, taking in every detail of the man I loved.

I walked over to him, noticing how his hands rested in his lap, almost as if they were waiting for something. As I crawled onto the couch, laying my head gently on his thigh, he didn't hesitate to move his hand, his fingers immediately finding their way through my hair. We settled into the moment, both of us watching the show in comfortable silence. But my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t focus on the screen, not with him so close, the warmth of his body seeping into mine.

I turned my gaze up to him, studying the man who had somehow become my world. My heart fluttered with disbelief, as it always did when I thought about how lucky I was that he had chosen me. How had I ended up with someone as extraordinary as Jensen? The thought was as overwhelming now as it had been the first time I realized I loved him.

Without thinking, my hand reached up to touch his beard, feeling the texture of it beneath my fingers. There it was, the first signs of grey peeking through the brown. He didn't look at me, but his words came softly, as if testing the waters. "My makeup artist said she could color it," he murmured, and I could hear the unspoken question in his voice: *Do you think I need to color it?*

I shook my head slightly, my voice gentle but firm. "No, don’t. I like it."

That made him look down at me, his eyes meeting mine with a soft smile that melted my heart. "Even when you're completely grey," I whispered, "you’ll still be the most handsome man I know."

His smile widened just a fraction before he took my hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss into my palm. The warmth of that simple gesture sent a shiver through me, filling me with a quiet joy that I could never quite put into words.

Jensen looked back at the TV, his attention returning to the show, but his hand never left my hair, his fingers playing with the strands absentmindedly. And as we sat there together, in the comfort of our home, I realized that no matter what, this was where I belonged—by his side, loving him exactly as he was, now and always.

--

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3 If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Taglist: -> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378

@hobby27 @call-me-mrs-winchester @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @yvonneeeee

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles | Purgatory Con, Düsseldorf, Germany, May 26, 2024 [x]

[lila-lou]

✨Paris - Pt. 2✨

Summary: The season 5 premiere of The Boys in Paris, which you were so excited about, became a dreaded event when you found out your difficult co-star Jensen Ackles would be there. Despite your best efforts to avoid him, Jensen's presence was present even at the post-premiere celebration. A few drinks too many led to a troubled night in your hotel room that left you torn and doubtful about your feelings.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, language, cheating, Jensen being a dick

Word Count: 5182

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

It had been two months since that night in Paris, and although you hadn’t heard a word from Jensen, your mind was consumed by thoughts of him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t forget how good he made you feel. The intensity of your time together lingered, an unshakeable memory that overshadowed even your time with Antony.

You hadn’t told Antony what had happened, afraid that it would ruin the fragile relationship you were building. You liked Antony a lot. He was kind, caring, and definitely boyfriend material. The sex was great, too—gentle, affectionate, and satisfying. But the night with Jensen was something else entirely. Jensen was something else entirely. He had ignited a fire within you that you couldn’t extinguish, no matter how hard you tried.

You found yourself repeatedly checking Jensen’s Instagram profile, eager to see something new, some hint of what he was up to. But in the past weeks, he had posted nothing but one picture of him and his wife, accompanied by a cheesy line that made your eyes roll. Hypocrite, you grumbled, tossing your phone aside in frustration.

“You said something?”, Antony’s voice broke through your thoughts as he emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair damp from the shower.

You forced a smile, shaking your head. “No, just thinking out loud”.

Antony walked over and sat beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your thigh. “You’ve been distracted lately”, he said gently, concern etched in his features. “Is everything okay?”.

You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “Yeah, just… work stress, I guess”, you lied, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “But we’re on break”, he mumbled, his confusion evident. “What work stress?”.

You quickly scrambled for an explanation, grasping for the nearest truth. “It’s about the script”, you said, which wasn’t a total lie. “Soldier Boy and my character are supposed to actually get together in the next season, which implies a lot of… disturbing sex scenes”.

Antony’s brow furrowed, his concern deepening. “Disturbing how?”.

You sighed, grateful for the slight shift in focus. “Just… intense stuff. The writers are really pushing boundaries, and it’s been hard to wrap my head around it. It’s not the easiest material to work with”.

Antony started to get dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “Oh, come on, honey”, he said, his tone both comforting and dismissive. “Jensen never made a woman uncomfortable on set. He’s known to be the easiest guy to shoot scenes like that with”.

You felt a pang of guilt and annoyance at his words, but you forced a smile. “I know, Antony. It’s just… it’s not about him. It’s about the content and how intense it is”.

He shrugged, giving you a reassuring smile. “It’s ‘The Boys,’ Y/N. All the scenes are intense. You knew what you were getting into when you took the role. But you’re an amazing actress. You’ll get through it”.

You nodded, feeling the weight of your secret pressing down on you even more. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for the pep talk”.

Antony finished getting dressed, smoothing down his shirt as he spoke. “Speaking of”, he mumbled, almost as if he was hesitant to bring it up, “Ackles is in town this weekend. He asked me to grab a drink, and… I thought… maybe this is the perfect start to make this official”. He pointed between the two of you, his eyes hopeful.

Your heart skipped a beat, panic rising in your chest. The idea of facing Jensen again, especially in such a setting, made your stomach churn. But you forced yourself to stay calm, to not let your inner turmoil show.

“Official?”, you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady. “You mean, you want to introduce me to Jensen as your girlfriend?”.

Antony nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, exactly. I think it’s time, don’t you?”.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah”, you said softly.

Antony beamed, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Great! I’m really excited about this”, he said, pulling back with a smile that only made your guilt heavier.

You forced a smile in return, nodding. “Yeah, me too”.

As the weekend approached, the anxiety within you grew. You tried to focus on your work, immersing yourself in the script and preparing for the upcoming scenes.

Finally, the night of the meet-up arrived. You spent extra time getting ready, hoping to project a calm confidence that you didn’t feel. Antony was his usual cheerful self.

As soon as you stepped into the bar, you spotted Jensen engrossed in his phone. Your heart rate quickened, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Antony, oblivious to your inner turmoil, led the way to the booth where Jensen sat.

When Jensen looked up and saw you, his eyebrows shot up in surprise for a brief moment before he quickly masked it. He stood up, greeting Antony with a friendly hug. Then he turned to you, his expression carefully neutral as he pulled you into a quick, tense hug. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the tension radiating off both of you.

“Wow”, Jensen said, stepping back and forcing a smile. “Never thought you’d show up with Y/N when you told me you were bringing your girlfriend”.

The three of you sat down, and Jensen’s gaze lingered on you longer than it should have, a subtle intensity in his eyes that made your heart race. “So, how long have you two been dating?”, he asked, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more.

Antony beamed, clearly excited to share. “About four months now”, he replied, his smile wide and genuine.

You saw Jensen quickly doing the math, a flicker of realization crossing his face. He knew instantly that you were already seeing Antony when the two of you were together in that hotel room. The knowledge seemed to settle over him, adding another layer of tension to the atmosphere.

“Four months, huh?”, Jensen said, his voice carefully controlled. “That’s great. You two seem really happy together”.

Antony nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, we are. It’s been amazing getting to know Y/N. She’s really special”.

Jensen’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, Y/N is pretty amazing”, he said, his tone dripping with a mixture of genuine admiration and something more intimate. “In fact, she’s amazing in so many ways”.

You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and frustration bubbling up inside you. You shot Jensen a warning look, but he simply raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly.

Antony, oblivious to the underlying tension, laughed. “I know, right? She’s one of a kind”.

Jensen nodded, his eyes still locked onto yours. “Absolutely. It’s rare to find someone who can be so… multifaceted”.

Antony, always the joker, took a sip of his drink and smirked. “You know, Jensen, I’ve been reading the upcoming scenes between Soldier Boy and Y/N’s character. You better keep your hands to yourself now”, he said, laughing.

Jensen’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes flickered with a hint of something darker. “Oh, I’ll behave”, he replied smoothly. “I’m a professional, after all”.

You forced a laugh, trying to ease the tension. “It’s just acting, Antony. Nothing to worry about”.

Antony chuckled, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. “I know, I know. I’m just messing around".

Jensen leaned forward slightly, his gaze still locked on you. “I promise, I’ll be the perfect gentleman”.

The rest of the evening continued in a similar vein, with Antony joking and chatting, while you and Jensen exchanged loaded glances, the tension between you thick and palpable.

Eventually, Antony suggested heading home. “It’s getting late”, he said, stifling a yawn. “Ready to go?”.

You nodded, eager to leave. “Yeah, let’s go”.

Back at your apartment, Antony kissed you goodnight. “I had a great time tonight”, he said, smiling. “Thanks for being so amazing”.

“You too”, you replied, forcing a smile. “Goodnight”.

With that, Antony left, heading to his own apartment since he had an early interview tomorrow and didn’t want to wake you up in the process of getting ready. He wasn’t even gone for ten minutes when there was a knock on the door.

You were already in your short silk pajama set, preparing to get some sleep. Thinking Antony might have forgotten something, you opened the door, a playful grin on your face.

“I thought you were too tired to get down and dirty”, you joked, expecting to see Antony. Instead, you were met with Jensen’s intense gaze.

Jensen leaned against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, I guess I’m not as tired as your boyfriend”, he countered, his voice dripping with innuendo. “Seems like I can still rise to the occasion”.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to maintain your composure. “What the fuck are you doing here, Jensen?”, you asked, your tone sharp with annoyance.

Jensen didn’t wait for an invitation; he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His eyes roamed over you, a predatory gleam in his gaze that made your heart race. “I came to talk”, he said, his voice low and teasing. “Or maybe to remind you of a few things”.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Remind me of what, exactly?”.

He took a step closer, his smirk widening. “The fact that you let me fuck you when you were already seeing Antony”, he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “And then you have the audacity to judge me about my wife”.

Your eyes widened, a mixture of anger and guilt bubbling up inside you. “That’s different”, you snapped. “Antony and I weren’t serious back then”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, his smirk not faltering. “Is that what you tell yourself to feel better about it? Because, from what he said earlier, it sounds like for him you two had been pretty serious even back then”.

You felt a flush of shame and anger rise in you, your eyes narrowing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jensen. You don’t know what it was like”.

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea”, he countered, stepping even closer until he was looming over you. His eyes darkened, and you could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Deep down, you’re just a hypocrite”, Jensen hissed, his voice low and filled with a barely contained rage. “You judge me about my wife, but you were already with Antony when you spread your legs for me. What does that say about you?”.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that”, you spat, stepping back but finding yourself pressed against the wall. “You don’t know anything about me”.

He laughed bitterly. “I know enough. I know you’re the kind of woman who can’t make up her mind. You want to have it all, don’t you? The stable boyfriend and the exciting affair”.

You felt your anger rise, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “You came to me, Jensen. I didn’t chase after you. You were the one who made the first move”.

He laughed bitterly again, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you didn’t want it. You didn’t seem to mind when you were moaning my name like there were no other words in your fucking vocabulary”.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure despite Jensen’s provocation. His smirk was infuriatingly smug, but you refused to let him get under your skin further.

“Wow, Jensen”, you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You seem to have an inflated sense of your own charm. I hate to break it to you, but not every moan is a declaration of undying love”.

Jensen’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the banter. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t deny that I left quite an impression”.

Rolling your eyes. “More like a stain that’s hard to get rid of”.

He chuckled. “Is that so? Tell me, then, why are you blushing?”.

Your cheeks burned, and you shot him a glare. “Because you’re insufferable”.

Jensen chuckled again, shaking his head. “Admit it, Y/N. You fucking loved it”.

You scoffed, trying to brush off his comment. “Don’t flatter yourself, Jensen”.

He raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Too late for that, isn’t it?”.

Jensen stepped closer, towering over you, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes sparkled with mischief and something darker, making your pulse quicken.

“If I touched you now”, he whispered, his voice low and teasing, “would I find you fucking soaked?”.

You clenched your teeth, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at his words. “You’re delusional if you think you have that effect on me”, you shot back, trying to sound confident.

Jensen’s smirk only grew wider. “Delusional, huh?”. He moved even closer, his hand brushing lightly against your hip. “Care to prove me wrong?”.

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you as a wave of heat pooled in your core. “You’re impossible”, you managed to say, your voice trembling.

He leaned in, his lips just inches from your ear. “And you’re avoiding the question”, he murmured. “What are you so afraid of, Y/N?”.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “I’m not afraid of anything”, you lied, knowing full well that the truth was the exact opposite.

Jensen’s hand slid down to your thigh, his touch sending sparks through your body. “Then let me”, he whispered, his voice seductive and commanding. “Let me see just how much you’re pretending”.

You hesitated, torn between anger and the undeniable pull you felt toward him. His fingers brushed the hem of your shorts, and your resolve wavered.

You were unable to move, unable to speak. Jensen’s presence was overwhelming, his touch intoxicating. The words you wanted to say died on your lips as his hand moved with agonizing slowness, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. His fingers traced a delicate path along your skin, each touch sending shivers through your body.

“Jensen”, you breathed, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. “Tell me to stop”, he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “and I will”.

But you couldn’t. Your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch, craving more. Instead of words, a soft gasp escaped your lips as his fingers continued their journey, slipping under the thin fabric of your panties. The heat of his hand against your most sensitive skin made you shiver, your knees threatening to give way.

Jensen’s fingers moved slowly, savoring the moment as he explored your most intimate places. He traced the contours of your skin with a delicate touch, as if committing every detail to memory. His fingers dipped lower, gently parting your folds and sliding through the slickness he found there.

The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. Jensen’s touch was both gentle and commanding, his fingers tracing lazy circles around your clit, teasing and tantalizing. Your breath hitched, your body responding to his touch with a mind of its own.

“You’re so wet”, Jensen murmured, his voice low and filled with satisfaction. “I knew you would be”.

You shivered, a soft moan escaping your lips as his fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements. He stroked lightly at first, drawing out your anticipation, before increasing the pressure just enough to make you gasp. The pleasure was immediate and overwhelming, your body responding to his touch with a mind of its own.

“Tell me how it feels”, he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “I want to hear you say it”.

“It feels…”, you struggled to find the words, your mind foggy with pleasure. “It feels so good”.

He smirked against your skin, his fingers never faltering. “That’s what I thought”.

His fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements, each stroke drawing out your pleasure, making you crave more. He circled your clit with a maddeningly gentle touch, sending sparks of pleasure through your body, making your hips buck involuntarily.

“You like that, don’t you?”, he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

Jensen’s whispered question hung in the air, his touch never ceasing as he continued to explore and provoke. You tried to muster your composure, to push back against his control, even as your body betrayed you with every involuntary twitch and moan.

“I hate you”, you managed to gasp out, the words more breath than voice, laced with a desperate attempt at defiance.

He chuckled lowly, the sound dark and alluring right next to your ear. “No, you don’t”, he murmured back, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers skillfully continued their dance, pressing just a bit more firmly, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Stop”, you whispered, half-hearted, your hands gripping his wrists not to pull away, but to keep him exactly where he was. “You shouldn’t be doing this…”.

Jensen’s other hand gently cradled the back of your neck, his thumb brushing soothingly at the base of your skull. “But you want me to”, he countered softly, his voice both a taunt and a promise as his fingers maintained their maddening pace.

Each stroke seemed to draw a line between pleasure and your fraying willpower. “You’re awful”, you accused, the words choked out amidst shudders as waves of warmth spread from the epicenter of his touch.

“And yet, here you are”, Jensen teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, a stark contrast to the boldness of his other hand. His touch became even more insistent, his pace quickening slightly, coaxing another moan from your lips, this one less about your verbal battle and more about the physical sensations overtaking you.

“You make it so hard to think”, you admitted, the fight draining out of you as pleasure built up, threatening to wash everything else away.

“That’s the point”, he whispered back, his lips grazing your ear. The simple admission was enough to unravel you further.

As the pleasure crested, your grip on his wrist tightened, your body tensing, ready to tip over into the abyss.

“Jensen”, you breathed out, your voice a mix of warning and plea.

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, his movements both deliberate and attuned to every reaction of your body. “Let go, Y/N. Just let go”, he urged, his voice as compelling as the motions of his hand.

And then you did, your world narrowing down to the explosive sensations that his fingers wrought, cascading through you in waves of intense release. You cried out, a sound that mixed your frustration with your release, and for a moment, nothing else mattered—not the complications, not the consequences, just the overwhelming tide of pleasure that Jensen had promised and delivered.

As you slowly came back down, panting and spent, Jensen’s arms enveloped you more fully, holding you close in a gentle embrace that felt like a soothing balm after the storm. His hand stroked your back gently.

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. Your breath slowly steadied, the aftermath of your climax leaving a languid warmth in your limbs. As you nestled closer, you couldn’t help but notice the prominent bulge pressing against your thigh, evidence of Jensen’s arousal straining against his jeans.

You lifted your head, your eyes meeting his. There was a raw intensity in his gaze, a mixture of satisfaction and unfulfilled desire. His control was slipping, the restraint he’d maintained fraying at the edges.

“You’re… hard”, you murmured, your voice still breathless from your recent release. It was a statement more than a question, an acknowledgment of the tension that still hummed between you.

Jensen’s lips quirked into a half-smile, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes. “I’d be worried if I wasn’t”, he replied, his voice low and rough. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns on your back, but his eyes never left yours.

You felt a surge of boldness, a desire to see him come undone as completely as he’d unraveled you. Slowly, you slid your hand down his chest, your fingers tracing the hard planes of his muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. When you reached the waistband of his jeans, you hesitated, your eyes searching his for permission.

Jensen’s breath hitched, his grip on your back tightening slightly. “You don’t have to”, he said, though the hunger in his eyes told you how much he wanted it.

“I want to”, you whispered, your voice steady despite the thrumming of your pulse. Your fingers deftly unbuttoned his jeans, the sound of the zipper echoing in the charged silence of the room.

As you reached inside, you felt the heat of him, the hard length straining against the fabric of his boxers. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling his sharp intake of breath, the way his body tensed beneath your touch.

“Y/N”, he groaned, his voice a desperate rasp as you stroked him, your movements slow and deliberate. The control he’d held over you was slipping away, replaced by a vulnerability that only made your connection feel deeper, more intense.

With a determined look in your eyes, you tugged gently at the waistband of Jensen’s boxers, easing them down over his hips. As the fabric slipped away, his arousal sprang free, hard and ready. You took a moment to appreciate the sight, feeling a thrill of anticipation and satisfaction at seeing him so vulnerable and wanting.

Jensen’s breath hitched again, his eyes never leaving yours. His hands rested on your shoulders, his grip tightening slightly as you wrapped your hand around his length, your touch deliberate and teasing. You stroked him slowly, your thumb brushing over the sensitive tip, feeling the slickness there.

He groaned deeply, the sound resonating through his chest.

Slowly, you leaned forward, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The warmth and wetness of your mouth made him gasp, his hips bucking slightly in response.

You worked him with a deliberate rhythm, your movements slow and sensual, taking your time to explore and savor every inch of him. Your hand moved in tandem with your mouth, stroking the base of his length while your tongue swirled around the tip. Jensen’s reactions were immediate and intense, his hands tangling in your hair, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, Y/N”, he groaned, his voice a mixture of desperation and pleasure. “That feels so good”.

You continued your slow, deliberate pace, enjoying the way his body responded to your touch, the way he seemed to unravel beneath you. Each moan and gasp from him spurred you on, driving you to take him deeper, to push him closer to the edge.

Jensen’s groans became more desperate, his hips moving in sync with your mouth. He glanced down at you.

“Finally using that dirty mouth of yours for something good”, he teased, his voice a strained whisper.

The remark sent a spark of defiance through you, and you responded by gently biting down on him, just enough to make him gasp. The reaction was immediate—his grip on your hair tightened, and with a sudden, possessive urgency, he pushed his hips forward, sliding himself deeper into your throat.

You gagged slightly but adjusted quickly, letting him take control as his movements became more forceful. Jensen’s breath hitched, his hands firm on your head as he guided you, his pace becoming more frantic. “Fuck", he groaned, his voice rough with need. “Just like that”.

His words fueled your desire to please him, and you relaxed your throat, allowing him to thrust deeper. The intensity of the sensation was overwhelming, but you relished it, your hands gripping his thighs for support as he moved.

Jensen’s moans grew louder, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “I’m so close”, he warned, his voice a desperate rasp.

You hummed around him, the vibration pushing him even closer to the edge. With a final, shuddering thrust, Jensen let out a deep, guttural moan, his release hitting you in powerful waves.

Jensen’s body shuddered with the intensity of his climax, his grip on your hair tightening momentarily as he rode out the waves of pleasure. As he began to come down from his high, he looked down at you, his eyes still dark with desire. He gently pulled back, allowing his length to slip from your mouth.

His hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. With his thumb, he pressed down on your bottom lip, opening your mouth slightly. “Let me see”, he murmured, his voice still thick with arousal.

You opened your mouth wider, showing him the evidence of his release pooled on your tongue. Jensen’s eyes darkened further, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Good girl”, he whispered. “Now, swallow”.

You obeyed, closing your mouth and swallowing his release, the action sending a shiver of satisfaction through you. Jensen watched you intently, his thumb brushing over your lips as you did. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, the connection between you both deeper than before.

“Perfect”, he murmured, his thumb gently tracing your jawline. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. The kiss was tender, a stark contrast to the intensity that had just passed between you.

Jensen pulled back slowly, his fingers still lingering on your jawline. He looked down at you with a satisfied smirk.

“You know”, he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “you might actually be worth all this trouble after all”.

The sting of Jensen’s words lingered, and you couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of guilt and regret that crashed over you. You pulled away from him, unable to bear the closeness any longer. Without a word, you turned and walked quickly into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the emotions swirling inside you almost too much to bear. Your hands trembled as you reached for your toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste onto it with a shaky grip. You began to brush your teeth furiously, trying to scrub away the lingering taste and the disgust you felt towards yourself.

A few moments later, the door creaked open, and Jensen stepped inside. He rolled his eyes at the sight of you furiously brushing your teeth, his expression shifting from concern to annoyance.

“Really?”, he said, his voice dripping with irritation. “You’re brushing your teeth? That’s your solution?”.

You paused mid-brush, meeting his gaze in the mirror, feeling a mix of anger and shame bubbling up inside you. “I feel disgusting”, you snapped, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth.

Jensen crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah, but brushing your teeth isn’t going to wash away what happened”, he said, his tone teasing but with an edge of frustration. “You think a little toothpaste will fix this?”.

Tears gathered in your eyes, blurring your vision as you glared at him in the mirror. “Do you have to make everything a joke, Jensen?”, you choked out, the hurt and guilt overwhelming you. “I’m trying to deal with this the best I can”.

His expression softened slightly, the irritation in his eyes giving way to concern. He pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer, his tone gentler. “You really are a delicate little flower, aren’t you?”, he teased softly, but there was no malice in his voice.

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “Don’t mock me”, you whispered, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Jensen placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle and his gaze almost soft. He looked at you with a mix of concern and curiosity, clearly trying to navigate the storm of emotions swirling between you.

You sniffled again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you just stay away, Jensen?”.

His brow furrowed in surprise, and he tilted his head slightly. “You’re blaming me now?”, he asked, a hint of incredulity in his tone.

You shook his hand away, feeling a surge of anger rise within you. “Leave me alone”, you hissed, your voice sharper than you intended as you brushed past him and walked out of the bathroom.

Jensen stood there for a moment, clearly taken aback by your reaction. You could feel his gaze following you, but you didn’t look back. You made your way into the bedroom, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, guilt, and a deep sense of confusion battled for dominance within you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling slightly. The silence between you and Jensen was thick with tension, and you could hear him moving slowly out of the bathroom, his footsteps hesitant as he approached.

“Y/N”, he began, his voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to—”.

“Just stop, Jensen”, you interrupted, your voice breaking. “Just don’t come near me again”.

Jensen rolled his eyes, frustration clear on his face. “We work together, Y/N. We can’t just avoid each other”.

“Then keep it fucking professional”, you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “Outside of work, I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to talk to you. Just stay away from me”.

Jensen’s jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath, clearly trying to control his temper. “Fine”, he said, his voice cold. “If that’s what you want”.

You looked away, feeling a mix of relief and sadness at his words. “It is”.

He lingered for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but then he turned and walked towards the door. “I’ll see you on set”, he said.

As the door closed behind him, you let out a shuddering breath.

You sat there for a while, the silence of the room enveloping you, trying to sort through your tangled emotions.

———————————

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

-

Part 3

-

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @spnfamily-j2 @cheynovak @anacarolinadasf @winchesterwild78

[cherryrouge]

acquit

lawyer!harry x lawyer!y/n

warnings: profanity, angst, mentions of murder and death

work count: 2.3k

please read action, part I of this fic, before reading this!

“are you still at the office?” y/n speaks into her phone, the gentle whir of the car she sits in acts as white noise.

“it’s ten at night on a friday, where else would i be?” mitch’s grainy voice replies, the sounds of the copier and the flipping of papers indicating that he’s working away in the file room.

“great. i need you to get me a copy of every financial transaction simon bernstein has made in the last twenty years. along with the distract attorney’s office, clifford brown, and mark jensen.” she orders, the car coming to a halt, denoting her arrival at her destination. 

“yeah, no. it’s not like i have a girlfriend to see, a family to call, or a life-“ mitch sarcastically remarks back.

“perfect. and if you could cross reference them and highlight any overlap, that would be amazing.” the sound of the car door shutting seemingly grabs the attention of her associate. 

“where are you anyway?” 

“out with harry.”

“oh? willingly?” she laughs at his response, exiting out of the car after harry opens her door for her.

“we are meeting with harry’s old client.” the old client in question being mark jensen. mitch scoffs from over the phone.

“why hasn’t harry already run a financial screening?”

“i think you could guess.”

“harry won’t let go of the goddamn dna samples.”

“bingo,” the clearing of her company’s throats signals her to wrap up her conversation, “i’ll see you in my office tomorrow morning.”

with that she hangs up the phone and turns her attention to the man beside her.

“finished telling your associate how to do his job?” harry replies with a straight face, snarky in every sense of the word.

“figured i might get us some real, tangible evidence while you continue to have a conniption fit over a goddamn t-shirt that we cannot use.” she offers him a tight-lipped, faux smile before facing in the direction of the bar they were supposed to be able to find mark in.

“what’s your plan with this, anyway?” she asks, earnestly. 

“you’ll see.” as cold and confident as can be, harry starts walking for the door. y/n is quick to hop into motion. 

“to quote your earlier statement: if we are going to work together, you are going to need to understand something about me. i appreciate and expect clear communication of motives before meeting with any client.” she snaps, walking at a faster pace in order to keep up with him as they approach the door. 

“well, isn’t that a shame,” he mockingly retorts, opening the door for her with a fake smile mirroring hers. she narrows her eyes as she steps into the bar. the scene is dim, space filled with music and the chatter of the patrons of the establishment. as far as bars go, this one is quite classy. but she supposes she should expect nothing less from harry or his clients, present or past. 

she feels a hand brush against the small of her back. her head turns toward the culprit, the culprit shockingly being harry. without even sparing a glance in her direction, he beckons her to follow him deeper into the bar with a nod of his head, eyes set on one man. she’s never seen this infamous man, mark jensen. he’s the only name she’s heard for the past couple of days, and she’s excited to finally see the son of a bitches face.

when they are finally met with him at the bar, he turns from his spot flirting with a redhead. he has a slightly horrified look, genuinely not expecting for them to intrude on his night. one she could only imagine he had big plans for. he’s blonde, has blue eyes, a distinct sloped nose and sharp jawline. he’s the perfect all-american man. upon meeting his new, unwanted company’s gaze, a scowl forms on his thin lips.

“what are you-“

“you might want to leave, this guy’s known for killing women. wouldn’t want you to be next.” harry says abruptly towards the woman standing beside mark, who all but runs away from the group after hearing such a worrying accusation.

“what the fuck?” mark says, a hot flush coming to his pale, freckled cheeks.

“i have two questions for you: did grace winfrey reject you? and is that why you killed her?” harry fires back, nonchalant as if he was telling him the weather. y/n’s mouth gapes in shock at her partners words, momentarily wishing he’d quiet down. however, she remembers the case she’s working on and who they are speaking to and quickly regains her composure. 

“you can’t talk to me without my lawyer present.” he retorts.

“oh right, the d.a. you know, i’m shocked he wasn’t with you already. considering you guys are so friendly.” 

“what are you even talking about?” his eyebrows furrow, imitating confusion and anger but his eyes are glazed with worry.

“you and i both know what im talking about.”  harry easily chokes him up, mark gulps down his whiskey and sets his glass on the bar. 

“whatever,” mark rolls his eyes, grabbing his coat from the chair he was sitting in before their arrival, “i’ll see you in court, asshole.”

mark leaves and y/n looks to harry, who’s eyes follow mark as he walks out of the bar and into a car. y/n is shocked, and a little disturbed by harry’s behavior.

“the hell was that?” y/n exclaims in a hushed tone, a bewildered look in her eyes. harry turns his attention to her.

“a means to an end.” he says simply, a smirk on his lips. 

“and how’s that?” she questions incredulously, hands resting on her hips as she looks at harry. 

“because without that,” he points to the door mark just exited out of, “we wouldn’t have that.” he points to mark’s glass of whiskey, absolutely covered in finger prints and spit. y/n’s eyes widen as she realizes his ploy.

“what does that matter if we don’t have the shirt?” she points out as she watches put the cup in a ziplock bag, his hand now gloved as to not tamper with his prized possession.

“who said anything about the shirt? i can still cite the murder weapon.” 

“we,” she corrects, “and the murder weapon has been tested and is covered in our clients fingerprints.” 

“so the district attorney clifford brown, then judge, said.” he states, giving her a pointed look. she processes his words, nodding her head in understanding.

“if your associate can find anything in those bank statements, we have evidence that mark jensen bribed the d.a. to bury and tamper with evidence. then we have a good old fashioned murder trial.” 

y/n walks into the firm with more conviction than usual. confident and hopeful that mitch found something to indicate bribery in the financial records. her heels clack against the hardwood floor and her bag sways with her arm as she walks. she’s happy to see a familiar long-haired man sitting in her office as she gets to her door. 

“find anything?” she says, expectantly as she walks into the space, setting her purse down by her chair and putting her coat on the coat rack.

“good morning to you, too. and yes, actually.” mitch plops the files down onto her desk as y/n takes a seat. 

“great. brief me.” she orders, opening up the top file in her stack. 

“there’s a transaction of fifteen million dollars from jensen’s father to simon bernstein on march sixth, two-thousand four. just two days after the suspects were named and bernstein was employed by the family. they weren’t paying bernstein’s rate as that was done one day before grace winfrey’s body was found. then that fifteen million was deposited and then sent to the district attorney’s office.” mitch states, alluding to what they both knew. mark was a criminal. 

“thank you, mitch.” she says with a smile, happy with the results and excited to show harry exactly what they need to win this case.

setting the files down on his desk, y/n stands tall with a proud smirk on her face. harry looks at the new items place in front of him then to the woman who put them there with a questioning look.

“mr. jensen was protecting his little boy.” she alludes to the evidence of bribery within the stack of papers. harry’s eyes soften with a nod. 

“you got it?” 

“yep.” she replies, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. harry sifts through the papers, finding exactly what evidence she was suggesting. after finding it, he nods his head. 

“you know, a normal response would be a ‘great!’ or a ‘thank you!’” she mentions. harry just rolls his eyes. 

“that should do it.” now it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

“our hearing is tomorrow, correct?”

“my hearing.” harry corrects. y/n’s brows furrow and her head tilts to the side, displaying her confusing.

“i’m sorry?”

“i said that should do it, y/n. i’ll be taking the case from here, on my own.” he states, still not making eye contact with her.

“you’re kidding right.” 

“nope.” 

“on who’s authority.” she parrots his question from the beginning of this situation.

“mine.” she laughs, dryly. dumbfounded by his behavior.

“you know, you’re a lot of things but i didn’t think ignorant was one of them.” she crosses her arms as she stands before him. utterly stunned and angry with the man sitting so calmly in-front of her. 

“i’m unsure how i’m being ignorant-“ he begins.

“letting a childish rivalry get in the way of doing your goddamn job, that’s how,” she fires. for the first time since she’s walked in that room, he looks at her and takes in her appearance. her face as she stares sternly at him, eyes narrowed and a frown on her painted lips. if looks could kill, harry would have dropped dead on his desk.

“ever since i started working here, you always had some negative, demeaning thing to say to me. about my work, my accomplishments, anything. and i thought that things were changing, that we were working well together, and that we would start seeing eye to eye but i was incredibly naïve. because if i know one thing about you, it's that the only thing you love more than winning is attention. and you want it all to yourself. so much so that you'd disregard justice."

“this isn’t about us, or you’re ridiculous need for attention, or my need to feel respected. it’s about bringing justice to a girl who was murdered twenty years ago and her family. it’s about freeing a boy who was wrongfully convicted for the murder of a girl he hardly knew.” she barks at him, his eyes set on her’s. he’s hearing everything she has to say but offering no words in return. she scoffs at his non response.

“you know what, maybe you are right. maybe, i’m not ready for the 'big leagues.' because if this is what it’s really about, i don’t want any part of it.” with those final words she storms out of his office.

harry can admit, he has been an asshole. he can also admit that everything y/n said to him was correct. he hadn’t liked y/n in the start. her intelligent quips, her confident personality, the way she held and dressed herself. if you looked at her, you’d just assume she was a lawyer, a good one at that. she had accomplished more in her two years at the firm than harry did in his first five. she was praised, rightfully so. and harry hated it. 

it was indeed very childish for him to be as resentful towards her as he was. she had done nothing to him, except be successful. something he should be happy about because the firm was benefiting from her presence so everyone was. but harry’s ego took a hit. his place at this firm, the most powerful firm in new york, was compromised. each time he made a mistake, he was vulnerable. audrey had made that clear to him. y/n had replaced others in the firm and if he wasn’t careful, she’d replace him. an idea harry loathed. 

he was threatened by her mere presence and she didn’t even have to speak to him. so harry took it upon himself to diminish her, in hopes that she would feel the same way about him. 

all it seemed to do was ruin any chances of them possibly being able to work together in a cohesive and beneficial manner. so when harry went to audrey’s office to persuade her into taking y/n off the case, harry said exactly that.

“i understand it’s disappointing to hear but due to mutual dislike, it would be best if i were the only one on this case.” harry states, calmly. audrey stares into him, face unreadable and mood level.

“bullshit.” 

“what?” 

“‘mutual dislike.’ you can’t stand that someone finally matches your level.”

“that’s far from the truth.” lie.

“she might even be better.”

“i don’t think that is fair to say.” lie. audrey laughs, dismissively. 

“whatever feelings you have about her, drop it.” she says in a stern tone, ”this is a case that requires the focus of two people and i firmly believe that an adult man should be able to see past whatever resentment he has for his colleague to put a clients best interests first.” harry nods.

“you will rectify this misunderstanding, understood?” 

“yep.”

harry styles harrystyles@holmesharrison.com

jensen vs. the state

to: y/ny/l/n@holmesharrison.com

y/n,

the court hearing is tomorrow at 10 am. i expect to see you there.

harry styles 

senior partner 

-

aaaannnddd that's part II. i hope you enjoy!

with love, rory.

[rizlowwritessortof]

The Truth

I didn't get this drabble done in time for @artyandink 's Jensen-a-thon, but here it is, anyway 🙂

Just a little soft, tipsy Dean and a moment of truth

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 760

Warnings: None (although soft!Dean is a warning in itself)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

You sink into fragrant, steaming water, a blissful smile on your lips. You slide down to rest your head against the back of the tub, breathing deep of the vanilla and lavender scent, appreciating with every cell of your body the relaxing quiet and the privacy.

The guys are at the bar, celebrating the successful end of another hunt. You had opted for a few hours to yourself, and after Dean finally gave up trying to convince you to change your mind, they had headed out, leaving you to enjoy a little private time. You love them, you really do – Sam is like the brother you never had, and Dean… Well, Dean is basically the bane of your existence, the temptation you won’t give into, the best friend that you won’t allow yourself to have benefits with. And sometimes you just need a break from the constant magnetic pull that exists between the two of you.

You soak to your heart’s content, finally exiting the bathroom and donning a pair of sleep shorts and an old ZZ Top t-shirt so old that you can barely read the printing on it anymore. You are all smooth, soft and completely relaxed, and you settle down into the comfy old sofa, bowl of popcorn in hand, smiling happily. You settle in with a little wiggle, turning the TV on and scrolling through until you find an old mystery movie.

You’re just getting into the plot when the door opens and your solitude ends. You can tell when they walk in that they’ve had plenty to drink, and you watch with amusement as Sam shoots you a crooked smile and heads for the shower and Dean attempts to remove his boots.

He almost falls over a couple of times, then finally plops down on the nearest bed, finally managing to get both boots off. He stands back upright, swaying just a little before he makes a beeline for the popcorn on the coffee table next to your feet. He tosses a few fluffy kernels into his mouth and plops down on the couch beside you. “Whatcha watchin’?”

“Just an old movie. Mystery thriller or something.”

“Black and white – classic.” He stares at the TV with you for a couple of minutes, then suddenly goes horizontal, head in your lap as if he belongs there.

You stare down at him with an amused smile. “Comfy?” He’s always a little extra affectionate when he drinks, but he’s never done this before.

“Mmmm, yeah.” He shuffles around a bit until he’s good and comfortable. “Hey, who’s that?” he asks, pointing at the TV.

“The actress? Barbara Stanwyck.”

“She’s pretty sexy.”

You grin. “Dean, you’d think a baked potato was sexy right now. You’re drunk.”

“Mmmmmm, that sounds good. But hey – I have fucking great taste, even when I’m drunk. Which I am not.” He’s quiet for a moment, then says quietly, “I think you’re sexy. And beautiful.” You let out a soft, derisive snort, and he turns to his back and looks up at you. “Why don’t you ever believe me when I say nice things to you?”

You hesitate for a second, then answer, a teasing tone in your voice. “Another thing you do when you’re drunk is lie to women.” His eyes are heavy-lidded and solemn as he blinks slowly, and your smile fades as he reaches for your hand, gathering it to his chest and holding it close.

“I don’t lie to you.”

The atmosphere has shifted, emotions you refuse to identify swelling in your chest at his words and the look in his eyes, but before you can begin to think of a response, Dean turns back to his side and settles in again, his scruff softer than you would expect against your skin. “You smell good.” He rubs his cheek against your thigh. “And you’re soft.” He lets out a contented little sigh, hugging your forearm snug against his chest.

In a matter of minutes he is breathing slow and steady, obviously asleep, and you stare down at him, the movie forgotten. Sam comes out of the bathroom just then, looking at the two of you on the sofa with a crooked smile.

“Need me to help move him?” he asks, and you smile back, ducking your head a little to hide your blush.

“No, he’s okay.”

“All right – just wake me up if you change your mind,” he says, crawling into one of the beds and shutting off the lamp, leaving the room dark except for the glow of the television.

Tags for my lovelies: 

 @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog 

   @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel  

  @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess      @deanslittleangel2y5  

  @melanie451        @spectaculacular-sammy     @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean-blog   

        @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain  

  @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie 

   @tanithlowisabamf-blog    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic  

  @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma   

 @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirstblog     @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1   

 @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @torn-and-frayed  

  @sandlee44   @wingedcatninja  @evansrogerskitten   @emoryhemsworth  @peaceinourtime82 

 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior  @sarcasmqueen74   @maliburenee     @mrsjenniferwinchester   @yeehawbitchs  

 @emily-winchester  @hobby27    spnbaby-67   @zepskies  @ladysparkles78  

@alwaystiredandconfused   @just-another-busyfangirl

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Preparing for Battle

Summary: It's that time of the month, but Jensen's ready to battle with you.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Reader (You)

Warnings: None. Fluff. Jensen comfort. Implied smut.

Word Count: 616

A/N: So, I got this sort of request from a dear, sweet anon who I always love to see in my inbox. But she's ailing a bit because being a woman sucks sometimes. So, I wrote something that I hope will comfort and cheer her. ❤️ I wrote it pretty quick so it could get out to her, so sorry for all the likely mistakes.

A/N 2: Also, of course, as always this is a Jensen from within the multiverse who is single. This is a complete and utter work of fiction.

“Hey.” Jensen’s voice was soft and questioning as he came into your bedroom to see you sitting up in bed and crying.

He sat on the side of the bed, facing you, and noticed you were looking at your phone. He used his knuckle to brush a tear from your cheek. 

“Baby what’s wrong?”

He tried to see what was on your phone, so you showed it to him and he pressed play on the video you’d been watching. After viewing it for a minute he shook his head and looked at you. 

“Period started?” He asked. 

You nodded. “This morning.” You said with a sniffle. 

Jensen shut off your phone and hid it under your pillow. “Sweetheart, you know better than to watch ‘soldiers coming home to their dogs’ videos when you’re on your period. They make you cry at the best of times.”

You brushed your tears away. “It’s just proof, you know, of how pure their little puppy souls are.” The tears started again in earnest and Jensen reached over to grab you a tissue.

As you blew your nose, he kissed your forehead. “Okay, well I’m off work for the next few days, so be prepared for pampering.”

You shook your head. “Jensen, you don’t have to do that. You’re home to relax after working for two weeks straight, I don’t want you to-”

He cut you off and jumped up from the bed. “Nope, too late.I’ll be back in under twenty minutes.”

And like a flash he was gone, leaving you slightly flummoxed. 

True to his word he was back fifteen minutes later, hauling four overloaded bags into the bedroom. His smile was broad and happy. He began plucking things out of the bags and tossing them onto the bed.

“Okay, I got…chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.”

Every brand of chocolate bar, some with nuts, some with caramel, some with nougat, landed unceremoniously on top of the blanket.

He continued, pulling out a heating pad. He lifted it up. “A new one of these bad boys because the ancient one you inherited from your mom is bound to burn the house down one of these days.” He dropped it and dug into the next bag.

“Chips! Etcetera.” He said, pulling out a ridiculous amount of salty snacks, including pretzels and popcorn. He brought out a six pack of ginger ale. “For the nausea. Ooh!” 

He raised his finger and then dug in another bag, taking out two boxes of Midol. “But also this, for all the other shit that comes along with mean Aunt Flo.”

You giggled. “Aunt Flo?” 

He grinned and shrugged. “That’s what the women in my family called it.”

He finished emptying the bags, adding gummy bears and worms, chamomile tea, trashy magazines and 2 quarts of ice cream to the pile surrounding you. 

Then from the inside pocket of his jacket he pulled out a little paper bag, and inside were two small bottles of massage oil. He held them up and gave them a little shake. 

“Also, apparently massage is supposed to be very helpful.”

He brought them over and set them on the table beside the bed. He slipped out of his jacket, tossing it over the chair in the corner, and you sighed, admiring the way his black t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, and pulled tight across his biceps.

Sitting down on the side of the bed again, he leaned forward and kissed you slowly. You let out a small whimper and Jensen moaned lightly and pulled back, letting his forehead rest against yours and speaking roughly.

“Apparently orgasms also work really well on cramps.” 

You laughed breathlessly. “Well, put away the ice cream and let's find out.”

Tags under the cut.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @lastcallatrockysbar @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @libby99hb @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @nancymcl

[lightofraye]

Debunking Nonsense Against Jared

There's apparently some crap about Jared that is just absolute nonsense. Full of lies and bullshit.

It'd be one thing if people just didn't like him. It happens. Not everyone is likeable. You're not expected to like him. But don't pull up lies to explain why you don't like him. Especially when they've been debunked again and again and again.

1. The "racist" tattoo. Y'all, this is nonsense. It's been debunked over and over and over. It's not a racist tattoo. For one, it's lacking the logo of "Come and take it", which would make it a racist tattoo. But a lone star above a cannon does not a racist tattoo make.

Jared is a proud Texan. He also donates to many a charity and organization that help people, speaking out about them often. Not to mention, prior to pro-gun rights appropriating the symbol and logo, it stood for a proud history in Texas. Jared would've known.

So how about instead of focusing on a mere tattoo, come up with more proof that Jared is a racist? Hmm?

Besides, if you're mad at Jared's tattoo, are you then mad at Jensen's t-shirt, which did show the saying as well?

2. Fighting with fans online. Oh come on. Misha's done it. (Misha's done worse, in fact.) Danneel's done it. Jared doing it does not a bad person make. And I don't think he's done it in a long time.

And of course, people will go "Danneel was hitting back!" And? What's the difference? Jared was hitting back too. Danneel went a step farther most of the time, siccing her followers on them, threatening them with Clif, even ran crying to Clif because people were being "mean".

3. RE: Prequelgate. Give me a fucking break! Jared was right to be upset! He called and texted Jensen for hours before he gave up and responded to that tweet about The Winchesters announcement. Jensen also lied about not being allowed cellphones on The Boys set. When they weren't filming, they were allowed. (Of course they can't have their cellphones on their person during filming, unless it suited the scene!) Besides all that, Jared honestly didn't know about it! Kripke was even shocked when he learned Jared didn't know! Supernatural and its legacy is as much Jared's as it was Jensen's! The whole freakin' industry gave Jensen a massive side-eye for his unprofessional behavior. Kevin Smith, a man who has directed, written, and acted in the industry, thought it was uncool. Also, Jared wasn't drunk.

4. Supposed bully accusations. I'd need to see more of this to believe it, but outside of occasionally putting Misha in his bullshit place, I've never heard of Jared bullying anyone. Everyone he's worked with has sung his praises. The only one who hasn't is Misha and that's because Jared won't let Misha put him down. And in fact, has had to step in to stop Misha from torturing Jensen. So fuck off with your noise.

5. His fanbase. Is he now responsible for his fanbase? I never knew that. What about Misha's fanbase sending Jensen death threats for denouncing Destiel? Has Misha ever stopped that? What about AAs hoping for Jared to suicide after Walker was cancelled?

6. What about Genevieve? Oh come on! Do I like that Gen is featuring the kids a lot? Myself, no. But if Jared was truly bothered by it, I'm sure he would've spoken to Genevieve. And Gen isn't any different than many other mommy influencers. I'm not keen on exploiting the kids like that, but would you say the same about Danneel abruptly grabbing the kids at Wales Comic Con and dragging them out for a photo op? All because she had no one in line for her autographs and desperate for attention?

7. Jared's Hair. Apparently there are some claiming Jared had gotten hair plugs. My response to that is: So what? Misha's had plastic surgery (trust me, it's obvious--his eyes and clearly lip fillers). Danneel's had worse--her hair is fried, bad extensions, plastic surgery galore that has ruined her hair line because of facelifts, fillers, Botox, and breast implants (twice!). Jensen's likely had a bit of work too.

So. Fucking. What. About Jared's hair?

--

Come up with truthful reasons to hate Jared, hmm? Not bullshit.