#jensen ackles does not age

[chlochette-sunde]

The disturbing thing about watching a 15-season series in 4 months is that you see the actors age drastically and dramatically fast.

[mishaesque]

in honour of my first “supernatural is trending” day since coming back to tumblr (it’s been less than a week) I dedicated today to a mental health downwards spiral by reading up on cockles conspiracies

[ghost-facess]

JENSEN ACKLES

[cryptfile]

✶ nuclear seasons, [ soldier boy x reader ]

summary — he was friend’s with your mom. friend is a understatement cause when he appears in the middle of the night looking for revenge in your little apartment in the suburbs, you know he’s far from being nice.

warnings — +18 minors dni, smut, dead dove do not eat, we have a last name (also a mother!), kind of porn without plot? but not really cause it HAS one okay, we call it 50/50, fem!reader using she/her pronouns, p in v, masturbation ( m! receiving but blink and you miss it), dirty talk, age gap, choking, degradation, spitting (i'm sorry), fingering, mentions of injury, cancer (not you tho), tons of tension.

side notes — i’m never experiencing the post ovulation clarity lmao, that being said english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, also i’m a whore for jensen ackles, and i stand for what i like proudly. // 5k+

Nightshade is a hero.

You're proud of your mother since you were pretty young. The hero that fought against Vought to death during the time Payback was active, America’s Troublemaker that you only knew as Stella Nightshade, a blonde woman that talked with the death during her golden years.

Maybe it’s your mother the one that pushed you to fight crime, to pursue the bad guys and look out for the victims that can’t stand for themselves, so even when you don’t inherit much from Stella’s gifts, you joined the CIA as soon as you can so you can do something that matters.

You’re the best in your class, work your ass off to be taken serious, to be more than the look of disappointment you receive when people ask, once again, if you have any powers like your mother and you have to admit — In pure shame, that you didn’t born as a superhero but a baby who cried loudly when is too hungry.

But as years pass you make a name for yourself, one that even if differs from Stella’s job has the same noble reasons behind. You also realize you were too naive growing up, believing in heroes that don’t deserve to be called that way.

The country has made a mistake on making superhumans so openly, and it’s clear that got out of control now, backfiring as they got so much power it’s almost impossible to take accountant of any of them.

You’ve worked along Grace Mallory from the shadows, and even when Stella would not be so proud of you for helping get his kind out of the streets, the justice is enough to feed you and keep you warm on a cold night.

You like it that way. You know Grace has a team for it, a legal army of supe-haters as you called them, yet, you prefer to stay in the dark, not let your personal life get involved cause one slip and you can lose it all— Even when you don’t have nothing at all. You like to have an outside life from work, it’s the sane thing to have, so when the CIA Deputy Director asks you about joining the infamous Boys, you politely decline assuring the woman you’ve been more helpful from the outside.

What would Stella Nightshade would say? Now that you’ve grown older and you don’t look at her the same way you used to when you encounter her files and read about your mother. You know she has done wrong, yet with the years, you don't imagine Soldier Boy himself was going to seek for revenge first thing he does when he wakes up, his plan including your mother even when she was long time dead before he even appeared in the picture.

That night especially you let your guard down. It's been a rough couple of weeks back in work, so when the night comes you're a victim of the stress, victim of your bosses and the people that surrounded you. You pour a glass of wine for yourself, light a cigarette even when you haven't smoked in years, and turn on the TV to see something else rather than the face of Homelander in every single channel you've been tuning lately.

It's a weapon. When you leave for a warm shower and start filling the bathtub, you're not aware of what that night was really going to be for you. Oblivious as you stand naked in the middle of the bathroom, holding the glass of wine between your fingers before entering the warm current that relaxed your muscles.

It seems tension is your worst enemy, makes your muscles feel like stone as you got in the water, the cigarette that hangs from your dry lips splashing with tiny droplets of perfumed water as the silence filled the air. It's what you needed, at least ten minutes with your brain shutting off completely, the pleasure you haven't experienced in forever by being so compromised with work.

It's a much-needed break. The smoke that leaves the room by the almost-closed window, the taste of wine still lingering in your lips as you sip another taste of the crimson liquor you love. You don't happen to notice when he's breaking in your apartment, silent and deadly as you were protected by a door closed and a white curtain.

You don't happen to hear him too. The music coming our from your phone is loud enough to silence the knocks on your door at first before breaking the wood, you're too deep in the still water that smelled like roses and vanilla, to even pay attention to what was going on outside the warmth of the four walls that surrounded you.

There's vapor coming out of the water and you find comfort in closing your eyes, in letting the blow of the smoke travel through your throat before suspending itself in the air, flowing as you drank.

In your defense, you haven't been like that in ages.

It's been a long time since you last fill the tub and have a relaxing session with yourself, so it makes sense you are enjoying it a little bit too much, too much cause when the invader is making a lot of noise when stepping into your property, you still enjoy the taste of the alcohol on your lips.

The ashes fall to the ceramic floor outside the tub and you should blame the CIA to make you so tense to the point it leads you to more problems than you ever had. In the dark room of your apartment, it's Soldier Boy the one who's going through any drawer he comes across, the ones closed, the ones hidden, any slit he can find, any clue that can trace your mother back to his personal vendetta.

He's oblivious to Stella's death and her daughter, so when the former superhero hears the noise in the bathroom he's fully convinced it's your mother the one who's behind that door, that she's the one who's going to tell him the truth, if she also sold him to the russians as well in the process.

He's decided also on killing her. She must need it after all that time getting older, closer to death more than ever.

Of course it's an unpleasant surprise when you can see the bathroom door opening when you're sure you left the front door closed and lock with at least two bolts to prevent anyone from getting inside, it makes you jump in the spot, quickly covering yourself from the new stranger that enters your bathroom.

"Stella?" he asks, it's the last room that the hero needs to check for himself.

You spot the green fabric of his suit immediately as you pressed your chest against the cold surface of the tub, and when the invader notices you're naked, he doesn't look away as any person with a hint of respect would do, but instead, continue on checking you out as you try to cover yourself in the water tinted in a nonexistent transparent color red.

You can feel his gaze as soon as you recognize him too, as you happen to notice that face from your mother's pictures, the propaganda in the TV when he did almost every commercial back when you were a kid. It's a shock, and dressed in his damn suit, you don't know why an old superhero is there standing beneath the yellowish bulbs of the light your bathroom happens to have.

Your cheeks adopt this pink color as you panic, grabbing the cup of wine to throw the liquid in the floor, breaking it against the marble walls just to shatter the glass in pieces, a weapon of defense as you lifted up against him.

"You're not Stella."

Soldier Boy looks amused: it's funny that you think you'd be able to kill him with shattered glass, yet he lets you keep thinking that way when he's enjoying the view.

Is he to blame? He just got out from this giant cooking oven back with the communists and he hasn't got his way with a lady since what seems are centuries, so when he spots you in the tub he simply cannot contain himself from peaking around. You should be in what? Not more than your 20's? Soft-looking skin that asked to be marked with his hands, by the force of his lips crashing in your flesh.

The thought is compelling, you're looking all feisty with the glass in your hand, threatening him and speaking something Soldier Boy cannot catch at first — Shit, he doesn't even notice the blood in your hand that's dripping all over your small rug in the floor, the power women like yourself seemed to have now and weirdly enough, a huge turn on.

"Get the fuck out!" you scream in an authority voice, the same you use back at work when you're mad, when you're usually holding a gun in defense more than a piece of broken glass "Stella is not fucking here!"

It takes a few more words to actually get him out of there, and as he closes the door behind him you finally stand to grab a towel covering from the currents of wind, trying, really hard, to think about anything else more that the fact that Soldier Boy has entered your house and your bathroom in the worst moment, far from what you were last updated with.

To be honest, it almost gave you a heart attack, leaving the bathroom to find your home torn apart, the drawers open and all the papers you've meticulously kept in place being all over the place as Ben stands awkwardly holding a shield in the middle of your living room.

"Fucking hell" you're cursing under your breath as you gathered some important things you cannot leave on the floor even when you're still wet from the shower, expelling this nice aroma that mixed the roses and the vanilla together with your personal scent — Weirdly enough, a fucking show to the hero that's already rock-hard from the peak he had of you from before.

You don't really notice it at first, too busy being mad as you let the papers you gathered on top of the table. You lose the shame you got left as the wet drops of the shower leave a trace in the floor — And as usual, you clearly don't notice it, but Ben does when the water is running down your back, and you're barking something about calling someone called Grace, holding onto a white tower with your dear life.

"Where is Stella Nightshade, sweetheart?" he speaks out loud cause he don't understand anything you say, really fighting to be nice with you like it would give him an opportunity to get under your skin.

"My mother's dead," you stand there without knowing what to say after. You know he and your mother were close, but you don't imagine he was going to actually go find her teammate when he recently woke up in a different country. "She died years ago dude, i'm sorry."

The information gathers in his head as you take a clean oversized shirt from the laundry basket covering with it as you throw the towel to the floor, Red Hot Chili Peppers it says, but he thinks it's a place in Italy more than a band like he isn't troubled already by the fact you were Stella's daughter, the person who thought was her only friend back in the time now dead.

"Does anyone know you're here?" your mind is drifting back to work again as you wondered if anyone knew he was going to break into your apartment and choose not to send any help — "Ben."

You've read his file. Hell, to be honest you've read every single file in Payback, so it's no surprise you know his name, but to the hero, it seems to be amusing when you call him by his real name, his mind fueled in a different direction as he notices you're not wearing any underwear beneath the shirt you're choosing to wear, one whose fabric's barely covering your tights.

"What do you mean dead?" he asks, furrowing his brows "It's not been so long."

"She got cancer three years ago" you explain with a sad tone, even when you disagree with Stella, it pains you to remember what sickness made out of her, consuming her from the inside at a cruel pace.

"Motherfucker," he states clearly angry, and you cannot help but look at him with a weird face, searching for the phone you left in the sofa to call any-fucking-body in the office that could send a damn army to get you: Didn't the Boys have everything under control? That's what you're told anyway, then why the fuck is the subject of matter cursing in your little messy apartment? — "Bitch just got away with it before I could do anything, isn't it? What a fucking shame."

"Pardon me?" it catches you by surprise at first, but it hits you soon after. Soldier Boy is not there to say hello to your mother or ask for her help, but instead, he's there to get revenge and actually kill Stella by his own matters.

Fuck. Of course is something new, something that makes you feel cold all sudden, your wet hair making you visible shake as you became aware of his plans.

"You know them. You know the people from the lab" it's more of a fact than a question, letting the words feel salty in his own mouth. "The ones that let me get away."

He's quickly to gather the pieces too, not as dumb as you think he is as the puzzle is finally coming up together in his head, and it's all it takes for him to take a step closer to you, cutting that space you've created since you kicked him out of the bathroom — He's angry now.

The red globe on his hand is now holding you by the throat, applying enough pressure to cut the air flow going to your lungs almost completely, his fingertips warm against your bare skin as he holds you in front of his figure, pushing you against the cold wall.

You usually would enjoy such activities, yet in the context you are trapped in right now, you began to choke, your own hands trying to push his grip back even when he’s too strong, not even flinching when you’re squirming, gasping for some air as your face became red, tears gathering in your eyes as he let you breathe for a couple of seconds when he senses you’re too close to black out.

“Talk little Nightshade” he says in a low voice. “Or else i’m breaking your pretty neck.��

“I work for the CIA!” You explain quickly as your breathing became more labored by the seconds. “Not for the people who let you out! I promise!”

He’s going to kill you. You can see the determination in his eyes, that predator look he happens to have.

What you don’t know, somehow, is that he’s going fucking insane. Your smell coming up to his nose to make him shiver, the sight of you in an oversized shirt that barely covers your shape is more than enough to push his buttons, to make him forgot about any killing he was allegedly so concentrated in fulfill, the sight of you almost crying messing with his brain.

Little Nightshade is a fucking tease.

His eyes follow your expression, the hand that gripped your neck and choke you harshly now pressing enough to only suppress the air flow in a more enjoyable way, the tension quickly shifting from dying to pleasure all over again as he kept you in place so easily.

It’s impossible to move, to do anything more than be pressed against a cold wall. Your mother has once again lied to you and you notice the relationship she painted with Soldier Boy was more of a movie in her head than reality itself. Makes you gulp in response when you stare at his expression, the face of a trained killer as you knew, fucking knew, a bit more of force in your neck and it would snap without any difficulty.

“I don’t work with them” you assure once again, maybe it’s your survivor skills hitting when you repeat it in a low voice, catching on your breath when he lets go allowing you to fill your lungs with air just enough before pressing that very spot again, the one that actually turns you on. “Fuck’s sake.”

Is that how you end? On your lame apartment?

The next is a weird thing, cause in the blink of an eye he’s close to your face planting his own body next to yours and you’re shivering at the feeling, his armor pressed against your chest as he left the shield he was holding on the floor.

The metal is pressed against your skin covered by the thin cotton of Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt, and he is so close, so close you froze there, no longer fighting his tight grip but mesmerized by his damn face, the same you watched on TV when you were a kid, the handsome man you happen to severely crush on in secret, just because you don’t want Stella to know or she will give you a long talk about how he is her age.

But he is, handsome as fuck, and now being so close to his face you can say it with all confidence. His beard is shaved perfectly and he smells incredibly good even for someone who has spent time locked away without any kind of hygiene, his green suit protecting him from the cold air that was getting through the opened window.

“Who are you?” he asks, scanning your face with a curious look as he wanted to know what expression you would have when you know why he's there in the first place — “What do you know about Stella Nightshade, your mother, selling me out?”

Fuck. So that's why he's there. You know she did it. And it's impossible for you to lie when he's making you so nervous, away from any weapon, any form of defense as you left the glass in the bathroom sink when you notice large gash on your hand, and your silence makes nothing more than leave him fuming. If he was angry before, he now reaches a higher level as his grip turns more violent now that he knows you know what he meant, why he's there claiming to talk with your death mother out of nothing.

"Call her then. Use your powers" he demands dryly, and you're shaking at this point cause it's more shame added to the long pile, the bathroom already being a humiliation by itself. "Fucking call her."

You squirm beneath his grabbing, when he's pushing you harder against the concrete wall and you can just feel him from under the suit, hard cock pressing against your belly, green in your vision as he towers over you. He knows what he's doing, and even when you try to be disgusted by it, you find yourself enjoying his closeness, how he's pinning you with no effort at all, hands on your throat while he demanded an answer.

"I can't call her" you admit in a low voice, cheeks now red as the embarrassment crept upon your face — "I don't have my mother's power."

Soldier Boy seems to not believe you for a mere second, after that you can feel the blade of the knife pressing against your skin, a threat that now becomes more real as you can feel the cold metal stomach. One swift movement and you'd be stabbed without a second thought.

It's sick how much you enjoy it when you are squirming against him, goosebumps in the zone he threats to destroy.

A force pull his lips upwards in a smile, unable to pay attention to nothing else but the sound you made without even realizing it. "You like that, huh little Nightshade?"

It seems to be a joke for him, bitting your inner cheek to prevent you from saying something stupid, from letting out a moan in response to all the sudden desire.

Despite all conditions you stay silent, holding his gaze like it's a game you're not going to lose. He didn't respond either, trapped in a second that seemed longer than the usual when time stopped around you, eyes looking like he can surpass the old fabric of the white shirt you choose to wear.

It's the tension what makes you mad. You're so into getting people like him, that your ego is bruised now that you notice you are actually attracted to all of that, to the way he's pressing you against the concrete, how all falls into place when he's pushing himself against you, invading any private space you could require.

He's kissing you soon after. Ben crumbles against the tension as the hand on your throat demands a kiss now, pulling you closer to his face without any warning nor concern as he crash his lips against yours in a rough kiss. You try to push him away in response even when you don't want to; see, it's hard to even admit you have interest in Soldier Boy in any other way more than the professional, but when he's bitting your lower lip you're letting your defense down: When is the last time you've been kissed like that?

You remind yourself you're tired from work, that the CIA has done nothing for you more than fuck your over and over even to this point, losing sight of one of the most important heroes of the word, and it's making you encourage to let go just for a mere hour.

"Lookin' so good takin' a bath" he says, and the sound of his deep voice is enough to send an electric wave through your spine, like he’s talking to himself as the hand on your hip is now tracing the curves of your body, taunting you from over the shirt he now learns to love. His beard is now scraping against your skin and you can feel his lips going down, tracing an invisible path to the crook of your neck as his hand is no longer choking you.

Jesus. Was that even happening or was that your imagination? Did you feel asleep on the bathtub? Maybe it’s a reflection as you are close to drowning, your brain doing that happy thoughts shit. You’re tilting your head to the side just to give him more space to work with and you’re just letting it be, enjoying how he’s sucking and nibling on your skin to leave a red mark behind, all teeth and no fucking control as he uses a good amount of force to make you moan in the process, the pain enough to remember who’s really on charge.

Ben forgets about asking any more questions, he’s too busy when his hand are taking decisions by themselves as they slide under your shirt, body still cold from the bath you just took, water still drying in your flesh when he’s like he usually is — An invader.

His hands are big and they’re capable of holding your whole tummy as he caress the soft skin that seems to expel a warm sensation, how it leaves goosebumps in any place he touches. You remember you’re basically at his mercy now that his hands roam with all liberty under your shirt, the look he gave you in the bathroom mistaken you for Stella, his eyes looking at any exposed skin he could look at.

“What the fuck,” you try to say under your breath, to keep on this facade you have of a composed person, one that won’t give in to be manhandled “What the fuck do you think you are you doing?”

“Well, i’m not seeing any complains” The blade cuts through the cotton leaving a large hole you know you won’t be able to sew after yet he’s right: There are no complains, nothing but eager that makes him go further as the seconds passed “In fact, can see that you’re pretty much enjoying it, Doll.”

You hate the nickname, that old man way of speaking when he’s squeezing one of your breasts with more force you can even handle, cursing at how easy it seems to be for him, how he wants to see you simply destroyed.

“You’re loving this isn’t?” he ask all sudden, studying you with his hazel eyes — “You love being a good whore f’me? My little Nightshade.”

He’s hard under the suit, covered in a green material you don’t know how to call as your hand searches for him, crave for him, convincing that it's what you must do as you trace the invisible lines his muscles made.

Soldier Boy’s messy, much like an animal when he’s groaning beneath your touch, his own body seeking for yours as your fingers grew bolder, demanding for a deeper contact — “Careful there sweetheart, i’m still fresh out of the oven. May be a little rusty."

You laugh at his words cause you know what he means, yet your hands work by themselves as you barely even touch him from over the suit, the hard feeling of his cock against your palm, hips buckling against your hand seconds after seeking for you, eyes shut for a couple of seconds.

“M’being careful” you say, catching yourself stealing a look at his reaction, taking your time on pleasuring him , gulping as he experiences the torture of your touch “Taking it slow for an old man.”

“Old man, huh? Now you're talking” He teases, and the sound of his laugh just fucks you up. Maybe it has to be with the fact he’s placing two fingers in front of your lips while looking at you, swollen pink lips he’s so fixated for a second, or it’s because he is, indeed, way older than you are — “Spit.”

It’s not a command, but it sounds like one as you’re unable to disobey, quickly spitting in his hand as you can visibly see the traces of saliva leaving a wet residue in your chin, one Ben looks at it for a good amount of time: How is something like saliva is so damn erotic? He doesn’t know it, but it’s enough to send him into a spiral.

He’s strong you think, cause he’s a superhero. He’s Soldier Boy by any meaning, so it’s not a big effort to hold you in his arms and lift you in the air as you let out a gasp of surprise, spanking your ass as one of his hands separates your legs for him, holding one up as you stand in the other.

“Relax, 'got you, doll” he says, your back against the wall as he kept a bruising grip in your hip, holding you in place so you don’t have to keep your balance — “Fuck you smell so damn good.”

The roses and vanilla aroma lingers on your skin as you finally understand what he's doing now, his hand close to your cunt as he taunts you, torturing you like you did so eagerly before, his personal pet as his digits get lost in your entrance now, your folds spilled with juice he can physically feel in his fingertips, your arousal's so nice against the palm of his hand he cannot help but kiss you, a feverish desire taking over his actions, the lewd sound his fingers made when he finally pushes his digits inside of you, velvety walls welcoming him as they seemed to squeeze him already — He has made such a good job on turning you on, it’s impossible to not react when he’s finally touching you, pumping into you in a constant pace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says, the look on your face is enough to make his cock twitch in his pants in response, imagination running wild as he thinks about that very same feeling in a much deeper way, how you’d look now stretched out, crying just like you did when he choked you asking for information — “Such a nice cunt, so wet f’me.”

He's looking at you, holding the image in his mind forever: Pink pussy displayed for him, white t-shirt rising over your chest, lifting your leg over his arm as his muscles flexed by the force he's using to fuck you deliberately, your lips parted as you ask for more in between erratic moans as his fingers curved inside you so he can hit that nice place he can reach with no effort at all, that one spot thats makes you moan louder.

"Ah-fuck" you let out. Ben's all about touching you for what it seems an eternity, thumb grazing against your clit when he's plainly torturing you, testing how much patience you have left now that he has full control of you.

"Don't cum," he demands, your heartbeats are louder by the seconds as he lifts you slightly, lips attacking your neck before the words escape from his mouth "Need you to come undone in my cock first."

He's leaving marks, marks you don't remember how to hide but don't bother you at all, touching you as he pleases you, taking all the time in the world cause it seems like the night belongs to him — Getting started as you shake your head in an improvised yes.

Yes. The thought is pure electricity, the sudden need to please him as you shake your head once again.

“Please Ben,” you don’t recognize what you’ve become now. “Please let me cum in your cock.”

"Go on doll, put on a show f'me" the supe says with a grin you cannot resist. "Bend and show me that lovely ass."

It’s all it takes. His fingers are now away from you, but you’re now facing the wall as you obey, bending until your cheek is pressed against the concrete and you can hear how he’s now unzipping his pants, the green fabric of his suit now to the side.

You look at him from over your shoulder, bitting the your lower lip as you check him out, his slightly curved dick pointing upwards, precum already leaking out.

“Like what you’re seeing or what?”

“Yeah, but there’s no fucking way.”

You’re feeding on his ego now, but you can’t help it when his size is far from what you consider it’s common — “Common’ doll. You can hadle it.”

You gulp in response cause you know you’re more than eager to try, just the sight of his own hand holding his lenght as he strokes himself making you drool in response. Fuck. It transforms in a need now. When he positions himself beneath you and he’s spitting down to that very place where he’s pushing against your hole, saliva coating his cock before just letting the tip inside.

Lubricated, he pushes a bit more and it feels just damn right. Even when it begans to hurt as he’s thick enough to force himself inside you.

Benjamin knows you’re in pain so he waits a second before shoving his cock inside one more time. You need some time as he stretches you out, clenching your teeth while he works.

"You're doing it s'good" he praises, hand massaging your back as he prevents himself from fucking you at his liking, “Takin' me like a champ."

"God" you let out a sharp moan moments after, crying when you felt the pain more than anything else — "Can't-"

"No doll" he hums as he pulls slightly more. “You can do this” he forces himself in until he's finally balls deep inside your cunt, letting you adjust to his size as he can feel fucking everything. Your blood flow, your velvety walls that squeeze him unused to someone as big as he was, your face distorted in what seems an intense mix of pain and pure, devastating pleasure — "Atta girl."

Strikes like lighting.

Soldier Boy's bitting your shoulder-blade as he waits, waits for it to switch into pleasure, to become intoxicating to the point you cannot longer remember your own name.

"Please move," you ask sooner than he thinks, and when he moves, you can feel it in your belly, melting your fucking brain as he repeated the process again, burying his cock as deep as he could go without any previous warning — "Ah, just like that, please-"

"Do you like how my cock is stretching you out now?" Ben's voice is way deeper than what usually is as he laughs, grunting behind you as one of his hands reach a fistful of your hair, grabbing it with force to pull your head backwards "Good girl, keep huggin' my cock."

You're drunk on the feeling, on the vibrations his voice sends every time he's saying something dirty for you, when he laughs victim of the pleasure.

"Gonna' keep you as my personal slut," he thinks out loud, pushing you against the wall every time he fucks you, using his other hand to spread one of your ass cheeks to the side so he can hit it harder. "Use you as my fucking pet so I can cum on your pretty face whenever I want."

He's moaning, your body’s sweaty as he pulls your hair without caring, not concentrated on the pain it produces as his hips continue on collide against you.

"Would you like that, little Nightshade?" he asks then in a low voice, his thumb pressing against your asshole as he fucks you harder now that you're used to his size. "Could get used to this pretty cunt. Promise to keep my cock whore nice and full."

It doesn't take long. Soldier Boy's moans are now filling the room as his pace becomes faster, slurred words between his erratic breathing when the hand on your hair comes up to finally grab you by the neck, like he can read your mind cause it's exactly what you need to get there, to experience by first hand a set of crashing waves that were getting more and more intense on your stomach.

You're close to the edge. He can smell it in the air when the sound of your skin slapping against his is loud enough to be all you can hear, mixing with the lovely moans you produce when he’s pounding into you with no mercy, fingers pressing the side of your neck with enough force you’re running out of breathe.

It’s messy, violent and you love it, love how he’s ruining you all sudden, fucking you up from the inside, making your vision turning dizzy in response. You’re immersed in the haze he’s driven you into before admiting:

“God i’m so fucking close.”

“Cum on my cock,” it sounds like he’s begging you to do it, fingers finding their way to your swollen clit to move against the sensitive flesh “Come on doll, leave me full of you.”

He’s making you move now, hands now controlling your hips as you take him as his liking, mere seconds until you’re finally crumbling, violently shaking as you finally reach your peak. He keeps on fucking you through your high, long enough so he’s pulling out all of sudden, stroking his lenght over you as his cum finally lands on your back leaving you convered with his load.

Fucking hell.

When you’re coming down from your orgasm shame seems to hit you hard, however for Ben is not enough when he’s kneeling on the floor, eyes on the mess his cock made out of you.

“Wanna go again, little Nightshade?” he asks curiously, and the question makes you laugh in response, forgetting about formalities and the trouble it meant you were intimate with Soldier Boy out of all the supes in the world.

“Hm,” you seem to think about it for a second, his breathing close to your wet pussy as he’s still wearing his clothes in contrast of you being so exposed — “But you’re keeping the suit on.”

He don’t have any complains when he’s the one pressing his face against your wet folds.

Funny thing is now when you’re forced to join the Boys days after that very encounter — A bad joke when you’re now babysitting Soldier Boy himself.

“Been missing you s’much little Nightshade” he admits after a couple of minutes alone in the filthy motel “Thinking about how cute you are, how you felt taking my cock so nicely in your living room.”

“Fuck off, Ben.”

“We’ll be quick” he promises “That stupid assholes back there wont even notice.”

You seem to think about it for a second before lifting your middle finger in response — “I said fuck off, Ben.”

For now, it’s enough for him that you’re thinking about it.

my masterlist

[archiveofvirtue]

pov: you’re jensen ackles’ controversially younger gf ᡣ𐭩 pt. 3

jensenackles 6min

youruser

Liked by madelyncline and others

youruser officially too old for dicaprio 😶

view comments

yourbestiesuser shits been way too freaky 🫦

youruser my heads’ still spinning 😵‍💫

ange1bites THE CAPTION IS TOO ICONIC

ellasbows the way I just realized.. 😭

fory/n HOLD UP- IS THAT MADELYN CLINE??

obxpiczz yup they’ve been friends for like 2 years now

jacklesfan1 his hand placement?? hello??

cvntyblogz I think my invite got lost in the mail 😔

madelyncline bday girl swag 🫡🫡

youruser u know the drill mads

clinestar literally all my faves in one room wtf

fordestiel still can’t believe we’re the same age 😭😭

tatemcrae happy bday it girl ❤️‍🔥

youruser coming from the it girly herself 🫂 ty love, imy!

popgirlyblog tate 🤝🏼 y/n

jensenackles

Liked by youruser and others

jensenackles Happy birthday to my girl, my partner in crime and the best pool player I know. Beyond blessed that I get to spend this one life with you. I love you ❤️ @/youruser

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jacklesfan1 stop.. his little paragraph 🥹🥹

forjackles she is so so lucky

youruser damn right I am 👀

destiellcver her concentrated face is killing me lmao

youruser at a loss for words. You made this day so special. I love you hubs ❤️

girlwithablog you can just tell how much he loves her

jaredpadalecki today we celebrate the amazing y/n. to many more “I’m gonna have a bf” moments with you 🫂 @/youruser

gibson-g1rl wait- did jared just quote ‘white chicks’ 😭😭

youruser duh 🙄 its our fav movie! and i love u @/jaredpadalecki

vampdecn what’s bf? boyfriend?

youruser BITCH FIT

jaredpadalecki bitch fit

ellawinchester did she finally turn 18 or what??

jensenandy/nfan bruh, she is literally a grown ass 26 year old woman, get ur shit together

casmybeloved my favorite couple

girlblogzz hbd y/n ⭐️

youruser thank u !!

youruser

Liked by jensenackles and others

youruser if I left u on read, here’s why 🌺

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y/nlcver bodTEA !!

elliescam my jaw literally dropped at the 7th picture

forjackles literally my dream vacay w/jensen

yourbestiesuser glad you’re having fun <3 now come back to texas mama, the kids miss u 😩

youruser just say u miss me so bad 👀

girlwithablog god, i wish i was y/n

fionabae does she even work?

mygirly/n she was literally paul wesleys manager for a few years and is now working as production assistant for mgm studios !!

ortegafan02 omg this is how i find out? 😭

fionabae cmon she only got that job bc of jensen

popgirlies her life is like a pinterest board

casmybeloved they are adorbs 🥹

jensenackles

Liked by jaredpadalecki and others

jensenackles bon voyage or something like that 😎

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jacklesfan1 finest man ever ong

y/n_defender seeing y/n through his eyes is so cute!!

winchesterstan try not to say daddy (impossible)

h3llgirl1 ik his girl just hates these comments 😭😭

beausling nah she’s hella secure and too busy for this bs

youruser liked this comment

sevens1ns look at them go 🥹

urfavwinchester they’re still dating??

jackles4life why wouldn’t they? 🤨

urfavwinchester maybe he finally got tired of her

gibson-g1rl bro 😭 get out of here

2jstan can’t believe she is having that man every day

acklesbaby geeeeez jensen 😩

as requested, another part of the jensen sm au 🎀 pt. 1 pt.2

i think I’ll never stop making these, it’s so fun!

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @lailawinchesterr @nuemanfilms @alluvthegurlz @drewsarms @starkeysprincess @hischrrypie @sammyluvr

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The Babysitter

Summary: Jared convinces Jensen to go to a bar and have a little fun, but it’s not until he’s driving the babysitter home that he gets the kind of fun he didn’t even know he wanted.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Hot Babysitter for @j3bingo 

Warnings: flirting, age gap (20/41), pwp, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, oral sex (m rec), fingering, p in v.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this filth! 😘💖

My Masterlist     AO3     Ko-Fi

“Come on, man!” Jared encouraged. “It’s been a year since your divorce. You gotta get back out there.”

“I’m not ready to date, Jar. I told you that. My focus is on my kids right now,” Jensen huffed, having lost count of how many times Jared had tried to get him to start dating.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about dating,” Jared chuckled. “I’m talking about going out to a bar, having a few drinks, maybe taking a girl home for some fun. We could go out tomorrow? I’ll be your wingman, just like old times.”

“And where am I supposed to find a babysitter with such short notice, huh? Gen’s away, so it’s not like we can ask her,” Jensen retorted.

“I’ll ask Y/N,” Jared shrugged. “Gen and I trust her completely. She’s a med student and has been watching our kids for a couple of years now.”

“I don’t know, man,” Jensen groaned.

“She’s not a complete stranger to your kids either, you know. Y/N’s watched them before, too,” Jared continued, not taking notice of his friend’s reluctance. “Come on, even if it doesn’t end in a good time between the sheets with a hot girl—which I am all for, FYI, because, dude, how long has it been?—we can at least go out, have a few beers, watch a football game. What d’ya say?”

“It has been a long time since that. And even longer since I went to a bar to watch a game,” Jensen agreed. “And the Cowboys are playing. Yeah, alright, let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Jared grinned.

“Yeah. Call Y/N and see if she’s free and doesn’t mind a couple of extra kids for the night.”

While driving to Jared’s, Jensen couldn’t help but feel excited for their night ahead. It had been so long since he’d taken any time to himself. He’d been so focused on his kids and work since the divorce and had fooled himself into thinking he was happy. He deserved to have a little fun. He still had a lot of life to live and a lot of love to give, and although he wasn’t looking to date quite yet, if someone caught his eye tonight, maybe he’d get lucky.

Jensen pulled up in the driveway, got himself and the kids out of the car, and went up to the house. With their families so close, the kids opened the Padalecki’s front door and ran straight into the house.

Chuckling, Jensen walked in after them and closed the door behind him. As he made his way down the hallway, a laugh as sweet as honey reached his ears, and he found himself straightening his posture and puffing his chest slightly.

“Hey, man,” Jared said as he walked into the kitchen, where a woman with Y/H/C hair had her back to him. “This is Y/N,” his friend continued, and when she turned around and smiled at him, Jensen’s heart skipped a beat, and everything else Jared said was lost in this stunning woman’s haze.

Y/N was hot and way out of his league, and not just because he was old enough to be her father. She was gorgeous with her big doe eyes, beautiful smile, curves in all the right places—

“Jay? You with me, man?” Jared’s voice pulls him away from his stupor and back to the two people in the room: Jared, with a concerned frown on his brow and Y/N, smirking softly at him and gently chewing on her bottom lip.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Just trying to remember if I locked the door when I left,” Jensen lied.

“Okay,” Jared said, not sounding entirely convinced but seemingly letting it go. “Ready to go?”

“Sure. Thanks for this, Y/N. I appreciate you taking on another two kids for the night,” Jensen said, finally getting something out to the girl.

“It’s my pleasure,” Y/N smiled softly, and he swore he saw a little bit of flirtatiousness in her eyes.

“Thanks, man. I think this is just what I needed,” Jensen said as he and Jared got into the car to drive home. “It’s been so long since we just grabbed a beer and some wings.”

“It has,” Jared agreed. “It was nice to have my buddy back, but I gotta ask, no interest in any of the women in there? At least five had their eyes on you, man, and some of them were gorgeous.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that, but when I am, you’ll be the first to know.” It wasn’t entirely true. If Y/N were older, he’d definitely try and hit that, but he was far too old for her, and there was no chance she’d want to have sex with an old man.

They settled into a quiet ride back to Jared’s house, filled with light conversation on their plans for a day at the lake with the kids tomorrow.

Pulling into Jared’s drive for the second time that day, both men exited the vehicle and headed into the house and through to the living room.

Jensen stopped in the doorway, noticing that Y/N was watching a movie, her hair pulled back in a messy knot on top of her head, teasing him with her bare, unblemished neck that he wanted to cover in his marks.

He needed to get a grip of himself. And he definitely needed to dig out his favourite porn videos and carve out a little time to take care of himself because this was ridiculous. Y/N was hot; there was no doubting that, but his fascination with her had to be because of his lack of sexual release.

“Hey,” Y/N said when she saw them. “The kids are fine. They’re all asleep in the tent we put up in the playroom.”

“Great, thanks, Y/N. They didn’t give you any trouble?” Jared checked.

“None. They were perfect, as always,” Y/N smiled as she put on her jacket, threw her backpack over her shoulder, and tucked the cash Jared had given her for babysitting into her pocket.

“Thanks again. I appreciate you coming out at short notice and giving up your weekend,” Jared smiled at the young woman.

“They’re good kids, so it’s no problem. Plus, I managed to get some studying done without my roommates being too loud,” she giggled.

“I appreciate it all the same,” Jared nodded. “Hey, man,” he added, turning his attention to Jensen. “Why don’t you leave the kids here for the night? They’re sleeping comfortably, and you’ll be over for breakfast anyway, right?”

“You sure?” Jensen checked.

“Yeah,” Jared confirmed. “No point in waking and upsetting them when they’ll be coming back here anyway.”

“Alright, thanks, Jared,” Jensen said as he slapped his friend on the back, his mind already drifting to those porn videos. “Y/N, do you need a ride home? I didn’t see a car out there, and it’s the least I can do.”

“Sure. Thank you, Jensen,” Y/N replied, a shy smirk pulling at lips.

“How was your night?” Y/N asked as they climbed into his car.

“Good. It’s been a while since I just went for a beer with a friend,” Jensen replied.

“So it was just a drink with a friend? No ladies on your radar? Jared made it sound like you were out on the prowl, and he needed to be your wingman!” Y/N grinned at him.

“Uh, there were a few pretty girls, sure, but I’m not looking for that right now.”

“That’s a shame. I would’ve done anything to get a handsome guy like you to go home with me,” Y/N grinned wider, giggling when his head snapped towards her with his eyebrows practically hitting his hairline.

“Sweetheart, I’m old enough to be your dad!” Jensen spluttered.

“I don’t mind older men. In fact, I prefer them… Daddy,” Y/N looked at him and batted her lashes.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jensen gasped. He couldn’t believe she wanted him. “We can’t.” It was a weak attempt, but he needed to at least look like he was trying to turn down his best friend’s hot babysitter.

“But why, Daddy? Don’t you want me? Was I a bad girl?” she pouted and slid her hand into his lap, palming his hard cock through his denims.

“Shit! We’re really doing this?” Jensen groaned when she squeezed his erection, and she nodded her head.

“If you want to,” Y/N said, dropping her act. “If not, you can drive me home, and we’ll pretend this never happened. But if you want me, I’m yours.”

Jensen was speechless. An incredibly attractive twenty-year-old woman was in his car, calling him Daddy, making his dick harder than it had ever been, and offering herself to him on a platter. He must’ve died and gone to heaven.

“I want you, Y/N. Fuck, I’d be crazy not to. You’re fucking perfect,” Jensen said, looking into her eyes and making sure she heard him. He chuckled when her face lit up at his praise, noting that not only did this girl have a daddy kink, which he’d happily indulge her with, but a praise kink, too.

“Then let’s go home, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl,” Jensen praised, watching Y/N undo his belt and pants and pull his stiff cock from his boxers. “Open up, sweetheart, let Daddy in.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open, and he groaned at the sight. “That’s it, baby girl,” he praised again, pushing himself between her plump lips.

Jensen moaned deep and long as she timidly closed her lips around him and sucked, gently rubbing her tongue over his leaking slit.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so good at that. You love sucking daddy’s cock, huh?” Jensen groaned when she nodded. “Yeah, I know you do, baby girl. Come on, I know you can take more than that.”

Y/N moaned around him, taking more of his cock down her throat, gagging on his length.

“Fuck, yeah, baby girl. Just like that. So good for your daddy, huh? Are you Daddy’s good little girl?” Jensen grunted as he pushed a little deeper.

“Yes, Daddy,” she gasped as he pulled himself from her throat and grabbed her chin, squeezing gently and running his fingers over her spit-slick lips. 

“Do you need Daddy to help you undress, or are you a big girl that can do it herself?”

“I can do it, Daddy,” Y/N said as she quickly stripped out of her clothes.

Jensen groaned as his hands skimmed over her perfect, perky breasts and down her taut stomach. “You’re so perfect, baby girl. Daddy loves this beautiful body,” Jensen rasped. “Get up on the bed, sweetheart, and spread those pretty little legs. Let Daddy get a good look at you.”

Y/N climbed on his bed and crawled towards the headboard. Laying down, she spread her legs wide and smirked at Jensen’s deep groan.

“Good girl,” he praised as he crawled up the bed, caressed his hands over her thighs, pushed them apart and lowered his head to her hot, wet centre. “Fucking delicious,” he groaned, licking from the bottom of her slit to the top.

Pushing through her folds, he moaned when her slick pooled on his tongue, and he quickly lapped it up, licking and sucking and thrusting his wet muscle into her tight, dripping hole.

He moved to her clit, licking and sucking on the tiny bud while his fingers toyed with her entrance, circling it gently before slipping one inside.

“So fucking tight, baby girl,” Jensen grunted against her clit. “Gonna need to loosen you up before you can take Daddy’s big cock in your tight little pussy.” He added another finger and curled them upwards, rubbing against her sweet spot over and over.

“Daddy!” Y/N gasped, grinding her hips down on his fingers desperately.

“What is it, baby?” Jensen asked, looking up between her legs and seeing her desperate little pout. “Is Daddy making you feel good?”

“Yes! More, Daddy, please!” she begged.

“Oh, you sound so pretty when you beg, baby girl, and you know Daddy can’t resist when you beg.” He pulled his fingers from her and sucked her juices from them with a hum before crawling up her body and caging her beneath him.

“Please!” she mumbled again, and Jensen couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Alright, since my little princess begged so prettily, she can have Daddy’s cock in her sweet, tight, perfect little pussy,” Jensen growled and pushed his hips forward.

Y/N’s brow furrowed in pleasure with every inch he pushed inside her. When his hips met hers, and he couldn’t go any further, he groaned deeply at the feel of her tight cunt, stretching and fluttering to accommodate his intrusion.

“Fuck!” Jensen roared. “You feel so good, baby girl. So fucking tight and perfect for Daddy, fuck!” He pulled back his hips and slammed forward again, placing his hand on her stomach and pushing down gently, groaning lowly as he felt himself move inside her.

Y/N’s eyes rolled back, and her hips moved with his. “Fuck, Daddy! You’re so big. Feel so good, so full,” she moaned.

“Yeah? That’s because this little pussy was made just for me, sweetheart.” He’d never felt a pussy so good, and the daddy roleplaying they were doing made everything ten times hotter. “Who owns this sweet little pussy, baby girl?”

“You do, Daddy,” Y/N whined.

“That’s right, Daddy owns it. It’s mine,” he grunted with every jerk of his hips, and when Y/N’s orgasm hit, Jensen stalled his movements, holding himself inside her as her tight walls squeezed and pulsed around his cock.

“Fuck, baby girl! You feel so fucking good. I’m gonna come, sweetheart. You want Daddy’s come, huh?” Jensen chuckled as Y/N nodded desperately.

“Yeah? Where do you want Daddy to come?” he gasped, pulling his hips back and pounding roughly into her still-quivering heat.

“Inside me, Daddy, please! I need it!” Y/N whined. Jensen groaned loudly, pushing himself as far in as he could, and came hard, resting against her cervix.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped when he finally regained his senses and pulled his spent and softening cock from her satiated hole. “That was hot, sweetheart, and something I’d be up for more of with you.”

“It was,” she agreed with a giggle. “Unexpected, but hot, and something I definitely want to do with you again.”

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[k2ntoss]

YO QUISIERA - JASON TODD

tw ⭒ jason todd x fem!reader, john constantine's sidekick!reader, swearing, jealousy and that's it, this is mostly fluff with best friend jason based on guess what??? ANOTHER SONG, yo quisiera by reik

a/n ⭒ do you have an idea of how of a sucker i am for jay????? this is just, i need this please show some love. reblogs and comments are appreciated and each one gets you a kiss on your forehead and a warm hug and yeah, i mentioned mbv because it has jensen ackles and he's my man <3

have you ever heard about not being able to decide who you love? well, jason has heard enough of that bullshit and he was sick of it.

it all started the day bruce brought back with him the man that the bat-kids could consider their weird uncle, john constantine and he showed up with a girl that was about jason's age. she walked swaying her hips a little too much and wore a smirk on her lips that made him a mix between upset and fascinated, there was also that white button-up shirt with the black trousers which made her look like a mini-me of the obnoxious sorcerer if only she wore also a trenchcoat and a red tie.

his first claim, after your first meeting, was that he didn't liked you "she speaks like she has all the right in the world" he said, voice gruffy and body a little too tense when dick asked him what he thought about you "she thinks she's funny but she's fucking annoying" and that makes dick chuckle.

"i think she's funny and smart, maybe you should try and spend some more time with y/n" dick tells him with a shrug before he leaves jason with his thoughts. there was no way on earth he'll get along with you.

but thruth be told, you were a little more giddy and nice that anyone could ever say constantine was and that made jason a bit less avoidant when it came to the times you were around the batcave and let's say that he just happened to get used to you, that's how he finds a new friend that he never thought would really understand him but he was mistaken.

since all of this it's been two years, it took jason a while to open himself up to you while you were maybe a bit of an oversharer but jason enjoys listening to your rambles, it's been so easy for him to accept you into his space in a way that's been noticeable to everyone around, not that they say anything because there are things that need to happen.

but what makes everyone tease him when they notice is how he seems to turn into a giddy kid whenever you're close, there's always a nice aura around you both but there are times he would be walking behind you like an overexcited puppy, following you from a corner to another because he needs to know what you need even if it's just a hug.

for dick that's just so funny, because he does remembers how annoying jason said you were and now he barely accepts going on patrol with anyone but you as his partner "thought you said y/n was annoying, you spend too much time with her for someone who you can't stand" he starts as soon as he steps next to jason and it causes him to grunt.

"she's annoying but she's my friend" jason says, shrugging it off before walking away to start his shift with dick as his partner "and what if i spend too much time with her? that's what friends do" the way he gets all defensive amuses dick and makes him giggle.

"sure thing, birdie boy" the nickname earns him a death stare from jason because that's just one of the ways you call him and if jason has to be honest he loves it but only when it comes from you "friends are running behind their friends like a lost puppy and looking at their friend like they hung the moon and the stars on the night sky"

"shut your mouth, grayson, she's my friend"

and yes, you're best friends but that doesn't mean he's not dealing with a big crush on you and he tries hard to hide it. maybe it works with you because you've never been wise enough with those things but there are things you can't hide from a family of damn detectives and the way he looked at you, how he spoke about you and the big amount of time he spent with you, yeah even bruce was aware.

jason had to deal with their knowing looks, the not so subtle glances they gave him as soon as you stood next to him because he was afraid that you could notice and that his feelings could ruin your friendship. it was sad having you so close yet not being able to do anything about it, he could hold his love if it meant you would be by his side even if he would have to see you around anyone else.

he wanted to be the one for you; he wanted to be reason of your nerves and smiles, he wanted to be the guy who would keep you awake until late just to talk a little bit more so then you could wake up feeling so eager to see him. jason wanted to be the guy you loved the most.

but instead he was your best friend, a shoulder to cry on and the first person you would always ask for advice before a date, which was the situation today. three days before valentine's day.

"and how am i supposed to know if he really likes me? i mean, he's nice but that can't be all" you start once you sit by his side, looking at jason with a small frown and your tone sounds so frustrated he sighs.

the question itself makes his breath catch because if he's not careful he could be giving himself away, letting you know how he feels about you and that is something he can't let happen.

"how am i supposed to know? i don't even know the guy" he replies with a low scoff, but truth be told he knows who the guy is and he also knows that he isn't worthy for you and it had been proven when he cancelled your date "but if he cancelled your date he might not be really interested"

"jay, i'm being serious! it's there something wrong with me?" you sink a little into the couch, arms crossed and a small pool of tears now forming on your eyes "why can't i have one single chance? why isn't there a single guy that really likes me?"

the only thing left for him on these situations is to lean in and drap one of his arms around your shoulder and he does, pulling you closer so you can cuddle yourself up into his side while he kisses the top of your head and bites his tongue so he holds back his words.

"life is pretty shitty, isn't it? i'm pretty sure the right person will show up eventually" he says softly, jason caresses your side while he coos you and there's a second when he swears he has a chance because you look up at him in a way that sends his stomach to do backflips.

he feels so damn jealous, you've been telling him about your dates and the guys that you hang out with and he wishes it was him instead. that he could be able to call you his, to kiss you and hold you, call you his girlfriend and have you all for him. he knows that's not even possible, he knows he can't indulge himself such a pleasure.

"i wish all guys were half as nice as you are, jaybirdie" your words are enough to make his face go as red as his helmet but he just pushes his feelings away again.

she's just being nice, you stupid asshole he tells himself as a dry chuckle leaves his chest mixed with an annoyed grunt "you don't want a guy like me, sweetheart, i'm sure as hell" he says in a whisper that you seem to ignore and he knows that it's better that way.

"now... i have no valentine's date so" he listens to your words and there's a voice on his head that tells him that this is his opportunity to get you a nice gift, to win you over but that's only possible on his dreams "would you be my valentine?" you asks, eyes still teary but there's a small smile on your lips and he wants to scream yes, he's about to answer when cass comes into the room.

funny enough to tell that cass is the only one of his sibblings that really knows from the source that jason is into you and they've both tried to find out if you have feelings for him and you do, cass knows and she has told him but he refuses to believe it. life isn't that good for him.

"ew, no" he says, his hand nudding your head lightly and he misses the quick glint of sadness on your eyes but cass doesn't and she coughs while giving jason a knowing look as soon as his eyes meet hers "why would i date my loser best friend for valentine's?"

rejection hurts and even when it felt like you were asking him as your second option thruth was that you've been scared enough to make any move. because this was special enough for you to want to be the one to actually court him, making him feel wanted and needed because he was important for you way beyond the friendship.

"yeah, no" you nod as you sit straight, clearing your throat to get rid of the knot that was starting to mess your voice up "it would be really lame, sorry. you must have plans already just for me to ruin them"

the sudden change on your attitude weirds jason out and it also scares him, did he messed up? yeah, he did he manages to think with the glare he receives from cass. sitting straight too, reaching her arm again to pull her back into his embrace.

"i hate valentine's, you know i have no plans at all" he says softly, trying to get you to look at him "but i can make an exception for you, what were you thinking for us to do?" jason asks, leaning in to kiss your temple.

"i was thinking we could watch a movie, you know..." you start, maybe a little less excited that he would wanted you to be and he nods with a small smile, his mind running with possible ideas until he remembers one of those movies with one of your favorite actors.

"my bloody valentine?" jason suggests, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his lips that made your heart jump. this was exactly the kind of things jason never gave himself credit for, he may not be perfect but even with every flaw he could possibly have he was there, trying to be better for those who deserved to be loved.

it was set, you left after a few minutes of discussion on what to bring to your valentine's movie night. as soon as you were gone cass came up to him and the way she stood right in front with her hands on her hips made him guess what she was about to say.

"i know i almost fucked up" jason starts, hands on his face as he grunts "but i just- how do you expect me to believe she really likes me?" he asks on the edge of losing it.

"jason, she's being so transparent about it" cass says, she sounds tired and maybe she is, this isn't the first time she's said this to her little brother "you're not the only one that's chasing after her all the time, she's also doing the same and you're just too hard headed to accept it"

those words play on his head on repeat until the time you're out of his room, hands holding a couple of bags with food and also a small gift you brought him. it doesn't matter how the night ends, you wanted to give him something special. jason opens the door of his room, a big and warm smile as he sees your face and his heartbeat grows faster.

he lets you into his dorm, letting you sit on his bed with your back leaned against the headboard and he drops to the matress, his head resting on your lap while you play the movie and everything is nice, you both laugh at the cranky 3D effects that are just so weird on a common screen, he teases you whenever tom hanniger appears on the screen and chuckles when you giggle.

he eats a little distracted, feeling so at ease when your fingers brush through his hair and he stops watching the movie to look up at you, all the happiness he felt being replaced by a wave of doubt, he wanted to accept the idea of you liking him back but his mind was always ready to mess it up.

jason isn't aware of the low grunt he lets out, sound that brings you to pause the movie to look down at him with a worried expression because you wouldn't want him to be wasting his time on something he didn't wanted to do. he feels your gaze on him, eyes fixed on his face and he turns to watch the screen.

"what's going on, red?" the nickname slips, it isn't so often you call him like that but right now it just seemed fair when his cheeks blush a little "is there something wrong?" and the soft voice you use makes jason want to cry.

if only you knew how bad he wanted to tell you, he was dying to let you know how much he wanted to kiss you and have you all for him.

"if i tell you something you promise me we will continue to be friends?" jason asks, it slipped and he wants to tell you to forget it but he knows it's too late when you tilt your head before nodding "i just... is it weird if i told you i wish i was the reason you wake up all giddy? is it bad if i told you i wanted to be the guy you cry over? that you really felt something else for me? i'm just dying to tell you so many things but i'm afraid you don't feel the same, i'm afraid to tell you i want you to be in love with me and lose you, that the only way to see you then is on my dreams"

with each word he says your cheeks burn a little more, your heart is about to burst when he stops speaking. jason is looking at you, waiting for a response and he grows anxious when you don't speak right away, he shifts about to stand up when you stop him.

"who says you're not already the guy i've cried for?" your voice is soft and he can't bring himself to believe his ears "i mean... i can believe you don't think about it but how couldn't i? when i told you i wished any other guy was like you i meant it... i thought you didn't felt anything else for me"

you want to keep talking, keep on telling him everything you've felt for him but your words are hushed by his lips on your.

jason is kissing your lips, his touch so tender on your face while his hands cup your face like you could break or vanish at any second. the movie was still paused and who could care about a hot masked killer when jason was reciprocating your feelings?

"do you mean it?" his voice is low, almost a whisper as he speaks after breaking the kiss without putting much distance between your faces, lips still brushing as he looks into your eyes.

"i mean it, red" and your words, mixed with that cute giggle of yours made his heart melt "i like you. i love you" you whisper with your eyes closed and jason feels like he's in heaven.

"i love you too, sweetheart"

[sensitivehandsomeactionman]

Inside ‘Supernatural’s’ Evolution From Monster-of-the-Week to Psychological Horror

by Danielle Turchiano | Oct 1, 2020 | Variety

A little boy sits alone on the floor of his bedroom. Backlit by a window, he leans over pages of construction paper on which he is obsessively drawing. A platoon of little green Army men guards the pages, and ultimately the boy. As the camera pans around him, he does not speak — in fact he has not spoken at all since his father drowned in a local lake the year before.

This is not the first time the audience, or even the main characters of “Supernatural” are introduced to this boy, as the moment comes a little less than half-way through the third episode of the series. But through the scene setup and shot style, it is the first time the audience gets a glimpse of the boy’s psyche, which will prove to be indispensable as the Winchester brothers work to solve the case of the mysterious lake deaths. It is also a turning point for a first-season show that would eventually run for 15 years.

“I watched Kim [Manners, director] set up this one shot and I thought, ‘That’s the way the show should be shot. This is the look we should be going for,'” executive producer Bob Singer tells Variety.

Creator Eric Kripke originally pitched “Supernatural” to studio Warner Bros. and eventually then-network the WB as a monster-movie-of-the-week drama about two brothers (Dean and Sam Winchester) who travel the backroads of America hunting the things the audience would remember from urban legends. But his main goal in his original pitch document was that “the weekly stories have to be SCARY AS S—.” (And yes, the all-caps was his emphasis.)

While he wanted to make “this series as scary as I can,” he wrote at the time, not all fear comes from an external source. Soon enough, it was the characters’ own trauma and internal struggles that were driving story and adding rich complications to an already well-known genre.

“We set out to make a horror show, and those were the initial stories we wrote. But you learn and adjust as you start watching the film, and a few things conspired to tell us, ‘We have to focus a lot more on the characters than we’re currently doing,’ which is we realized the actors we had,” Kripke tells Variety now. “We saw that they were just both wildly charismatic and emotional and were knocking everything we gave them out of the park. So we were like, ‘We should start giving them harder things to do because they can handle it.'”

The pilot introduced Dean (Jensen Ackles) and Sam’s (Jared Padalecki) trauma briefly, first by revealing that their mother died under mysterious circumstances in a house fire, resulting in their father devoting his life to hunting what killed her — even when it meant dragging his school-aged kids on the road and leaving them alone for days on end in rundown motels. When Sam’s girlfriend dies in a similar way in the present-day portion of the episode, a deeper, psychologically-scarring mythology is hinted at — but the focus of the first few episodes of the series is really more on the “task at hand” of taking out whatever creature is right in front of them — from a Woman in White in the pilot, to a wendigo in the second episode and a ghost in the third.

“When you get hired as staff on a first season show, you get handed the documents they used to sell the show, and that included some of the family secrets and what was going on with Sam. But it’s more like it was a headline that these children had been through a lot because of, we’ll call it, their unconventional life — and the details come when you start to have more space to tell the story,” says Sera Gamble, who penned “Dead in the Water,” the pivotal third episode of the first season with Raelle Tucker, and later went on to run the show in the sixth and seventh seasons.

When breaking the story for “Dead in the Water,” Gamble recalls a conversation with Kripke about how “most young children, especially who have been through something, [are] not just going to open up and give you all of the procedural information you need as an [exposition] dump in the scene.” In discussing how it needed to be harder to draw information out of that child, Gamble says she was inspired to “dig deeper into the psychology of the characters in that script,” which became a baseline for episodes going forward.

“Now I can’t imagine approaching anything with a fantasy element without starting from that place,” she says. “These stories were scary to us because they feel like they tap into something true. Your road as a writer to something that’s going to terrify the audience is through human psychology.”

What each audience member finds scary can vary — and often comes from factors outside a show’s control, from the person’s own upbringing and experiences to the kinds of other stories they consume. In order to to make sure to deliver unique horror elements in each episode, Singer says that from the beginning, “one thing we always said was that the shooting style should be commensurate with what the monster was or what the tone was, so we didn’t feel like we were doing a cookie-cutter horror [show].”

The characters within each of those episodes also had to be unique, even if the type of creature the Winchesters were fighting was something they’d encountered before. “Halfway through Season 1, the first run of the scripts, we realized we were going to run out of monsters in a hurry,” if we didn’t, Singer says. “So if we did a vampire story, each version would not be what you’ve seen before — each version had their own story.”

Often these characters had traumatic backstories of their own, such as Gordon (Sterling K. Brown), a hunter who was on a one-track mission to eradicate the supernatural from Earth after his sister was taken by a vampire when he was just a teenager. (In the most heart-wrenching twist, he later was turned into the thing he hated the most.) Sometimes they even brought out complicated issues for the main characters, such as when Sam fell for Madison (Emmanuelle Vaugier), a werewolf who he was going to have to kill, reigniting the fears he had about losing the women he loved.

And as time went on, those issues and fears began to pile up and often go unresolved. Dean never truly mourned his mother and Sam didn’t fully get to grieve his college girlfriend Jess (Adrianne Palicki) and both had complex feelings about their father and the way they were raised. But then Dean traded his life to save Sam’s, sending the older Winchester to Hell (literally), while the younger one had to carry on alone. Being the true vessels for Michael and Lucifer could have pitted the brothers against each other but ultimately this time it was Sam who went into the pit to Hell, leaving Dean to move on. Sam also lost his soul, got addicted to demon blood and never quite could shake his PTSD from his time with Lucifer (Mark Pellegrino); Dean ended up with PTSD after getting back from war-like Purgatory. Both brothers struggled with wanting to believe in Team Free Will, even when learning they are literally God’s (Rob Benedict) favorite television show and their lives have been manipulated for it. And of course along the way they’ve lost countless other friends and loved ones, from surrogate uncle Bobby (Jim Beaver) to Charlie (Felicia Day) and even their mother (Samantha Smith) again after she was brought back from the dead, only to eventually be killed by Lucifer’s son Jack (Alex Calvert).

“Sam and Dean both went through a ton of trauma. Sam probably had more reminders of his trauma because, obviously Pellegrino remained as Lucifer for many, many years, and Sam had to be facing his No. 1 offender in causing his PTSD,” says Padalecki. “The writers, obviously, always were aware that Sam had been through what he’d been through with Lucifer so they peppered that in [but they] allowed me to take it further if I needed to.”

While Kripke acknowledges that the broadcast format — especially back in 2005 — lent itself well to a slow burn on mythology in the beginning, he also believes characters are more interesting if you “peel back those layers one at a time” as the show goes on. But there is also a more pragmatic reason behind easing the audience into the more psychological horror of “Supernatural” according to Dr. Lynn S. Zubernis, a licensed clinical psychologist, professor and author of several “Supernatural” books, including this year’s “There’ll Be Peace When You Are Done: Actors and Fans Celebrate the Legacy of Supernatural.”

She explains: “One of the reasons that we as humans have so much trouble processing trauma is that we literally store those trauma memories in a different way to store our regular memories and then we can’t get to them and they just end up split off and unprocessed and we don’t want to go there. So we have a lot of defenses against looking at our own trauma. That’s why projecting onto fictional characters is such a great way to do it. But if it came at us all at once, our brains would be like, ‘No, no, no no; we’re not going there.’ You have to go slow in the beginning and then be hooked in and trust the storytelling, in a way, before it goes that deep.”

The same was true for the actors. “Early on, we maybe had to use some techniques or some tricks of the trade to get to a certain point emotionally, but as time went on and the seasons went on, we didn’t have to use those tricks,” says Ackles. “Living with this story — not just living with the characters but living with this story — when things happen, we’re able to really feel it from a character’s perspective because we have lived with it so long and we understand their hurt and their pain and their laughter and their joy.”

Adds Padalecki: “We lost so many characters, I feel like we had a lot of chances to deal with what Sam and Dean would go through with the loss of a character or friend, and so, after the 30th time, it was like, ‘OK I remember what Sam goes through; I remember how he feels; I remember how to be and where I want to be in the storyline as a whole.’ If God forbid there came a situation where they were like, ‘Hey we need to shoot this scene tonight, it’s two pages, it’s you and Dean and Lucifer, then I could have done it — and Mark and Jensen could have done it as well.'”

As the show evolved, the type of horror it delivered week after week would consist different ratios of a combination of jump scares and more of a “disturbing fear that doesn’t leave you — the kind of fear that gives me chills, instead of making me want to scream,” as Zubernis puts it.

“I remember getting a note from Eric that changed the way I wrote the show and kind of cracked the show open for me,” Gamble says. “It was [for] an episode where a demon in the body of a woman has, I want to say, Bobby tied up and they are snarky back and forth but he is her prisoner. And what Eric said was, ‘You’re writing these lines where the demon is very witty and funny and smart, but the thing that is so terrifying about a demon, even as you are entertained by it is that they can see straight into your soul.’ So this thing that they will say to you will be the thing that hurts the most. And so, that was the guiding principle for writing the bad guys: They had to be incredibly insightful to find these guys’ Achilles heels.

“It was also the guiding principle in writing Dean, who was very much going to say the funniest lines in episodes, but he’s never trying to crack you up — he’s actually speaking from a deep well of pain and his way of processing that is to say something hilarious like he’s tough and it doesn’t matter,” Gamble continues.

“We knew the guys had deep trauma and deep pain and were frequently struggling quietly with something, and we always held the monster peril or the danger to a high standard of, ‘We’re not going to make this a joke. This is going to really be life or death.’ So if you have those pieces of the puzzle where the life or death stakes are there, the emotional truth is there, and then you have characters who crack a joke in the face of death, then you can go a lot of places tonally.”

This included expanding the world out to get inside the heads of other core characters — from Castiel’s (Misha Collins) own struggle with how he allowed power to corrupt him, to Jack’s guilt over killing Mary, to diving into memories of Bobby losing his wife and Jody Mills (Kim Rhodes) losing her own family. In some cases, it meant quite literally spending the majority of episodes inside characters’ heads, as well — from Season 2’s “What Is and What Should Never Be,” in which Dean’s psyche is in an “apple pie” alternate reality while he is losing his life to a djnn, to Season 4’s “The Rapture” when Sam is detoxing from demon blood, to Season 7’s “Death’s Door,” which sees a dying Bobby trying to outrun his reaper.

In the latter episode, Gamble reminds, the show was “exploring his core wounds by seeing the memories that are the most important to him.”

“We observed from just watching so many shows in this genre that the Big Bad gets bigger and bigger every season and the war gets more massive and pretty soon you’re a tiny little Lego guy and you’re literally facing God,” she explains. “So part of our job from very early on was to slow down or to avoid running into plot that was so massive that you’re just little specs in a giant galaxy. The way to approach that is always to come from what is personal inside of the story to the boys.”

After all, at the core of the show was always the Winchesters — whether the danger they were in was because of a literal demon in front of them or an internal demon they had yet to conquer.

“If you put them in real jeopardy — believable jeopardy for our world — then the scares will take care of themselves,” Singer says.

(Pictured: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki in “Supernatural,” which returns with its final seven episodes beginning Oct. 8 on the CW)

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 24

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a lot heavier, so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: heavy violence, mentions of rape

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Just as I’m about to drift off, a loud banging makes me shoot upright. In my half-asleep state I run to the door hoping that Jensen changed his mind and came up for a final goodbye. But instead of his warm embrace and a passionate kiss, when I open the door I feel a cold hard sting on my cheek as my ears ring with the sound of a slap. Tears burn as I blink and try to make sense of what happened. I take a step back but the unfamiliar man follows and snatches my wrist and pulls me to his chest harshly.

“Where is she?” he spits out. I recoil at the feeling of specks of his saliva hitting my cheek. I keep my lips sealed and fight back tears. I know I need to stay strong. I gather up all my courage and elbow him as hard as I can in the ribs and try to pull away but he digs his nails into my wrist as he yanks my other arm around my back before gripping my hair and pulling me into a tight headlock. I scream at the pain but also in an attempt to wake someone. He pushes me further inside and slams the door behind him. “Where is she?” he spits again harshly near my ear. 

I try to pull away again but his grip on my hair is tight and I wince at the pain. Despite the pain I manage to spit out just as harshly, “Like I’d tell you, you abusive son of a bitch!” He yanks my hair again and twists one of my arms back to the point where I’m terrified it’s either going to pop out of its socket or the bone’s going to snap completely. I refuse to give in. “This what you did to her? Pin her in place and force her to have sex with you?”

His grip tightens and I brace myself for the snap and unimaginable pain, but it doesn’t come. Instead he leans down, takes my earlobe between his teeth roughly and pulls back ever so slightly and growls, “I bet you’d like that. Nice and rough.” He trails his lips down my neck where Jensen’s had been not an hour earlier. “You won’t tell me where she is, I’ll take you instead. All I need’s a nice wet hole anyway.”

He manhandles me until I’m laying face-down on the couch, both hands pinning tightly at the small of my back with one of his hands. I try to kick out but he sits on my legs. I lose the fight to my tears as I feel one of his hands reach around to undo the button and zip on my jeans. I feel helpless and scared in a way I never have before. But instead of worrying about myself, I wonder how many times Anna had to endure this treatment and for how long. He slips his hand into the waistband and tries to pull them down but struggles with one hand. Obviously only thinking with rage and his dick he lets go of my hands briefly to pull my jeans and underwear past my hips. As he does, I quickly scramble around reaching for my phone which I know is amongst the cushions somewhere. My fingers briefly stab and glide across the cracked glass but I don’t get a hold of it before he’s roughly yanking my arms back. I feel the vibrations under me, sparking some hope that I managed to do something. Luckily it’s silenced by the sound of him undoing his belt and jeans. I have no way of knowing who called, whether I got the emergency function or just a random person from my contacts, and no way of answering anyway. He grips my hair and yanks me upright so my bare ass is touching his front. I scream out again and he slaps me. 

“Last chance bitch, tell me where she is or you’re becoming my new plaything.”

“At least use a condom, you pig. I’m not on birth control. So unless you wanna pay me child support.” Feeling his erect dick against my ass I fully start to panic. Seeing as it’s been ages since I last slept with anyone I let my script lapse. And as much as I don’t want to be raped by this abusive psycho, I also don’t want to be forced to carry his child. I pull against him with all my strength and scream at the top of my lungs. He slaps me across the face again and covers my mouth with one hand effectively muffling my sounds. This gives me better access to lick and bite at his disgusting skin. He recoils as my teeth sink into his palm. With his weight on my legs I can’t move, but I use the opportunity to free my hands and reach for my phone again. I manage to swipe across and return the missed call, but I don’t see who it is. He snatches my phone from my hands and pegs it at the tiles causing the screen to shatter completely before switching to black. I continue to scream myself hoarse as he crushes me into the couch. I can feel against my back that the pain had an impact but he’s now even more irate. With all of his weight holding my front against the cushions, he takes his free hand and slaps — not sexual spanks, hard, bruising slaps — my bare ass countless times.

My head is spinning, overrun with fear and pain. I can’t move my body. I can’t roll over, pull my pants up, reach for my broken phone, I’m completely petrified. I block out everything as I accept my fate. I can’t even tell if I’m crying or screaming anymore. I can’t hear myself. I barely even feel the lasting sting of the pain he’s inflicted. I just feel numb.

When he speaks again he sounds like I’m underwater. It’s muffled and slurred and I can’t focus on the words. I just lay there completely numb letting it happen. I have no fight left. He’s got me completely pinned and I have no mode of contact. I tell myself it’s over.

I don’t feel him pull away or stand up. I don’t hear the door breaking down. I don’t notice when a group of people enter the apartment. I’m too far removed. I can’t even pull away when I’m wrapped in a blanket and pulled into someone else’s arms. My limbs are too stiff, my mind is too numb. When my chin is tilted up to meet the person’s eyes I can’t focus, everything is blurred. But as numb as I am, I know it’s someone else. I feel warmer, safe. And my body shuts down.

When I can finally open my eyes all I see is white. There’s a dull, steady beeping from somewhere behind me. As my senses slowly return I feel a weight on my right hand. I instinctively squeeze, but am shocked when the feeling is reciprocated. I furiously blink my eyes and try to sit up.

“Hey, Hey, Darlin’. It’s okay now. You’re safe. Take a breath for me.”

I look towards the voice and can’t believe my eyes or ears. I must still be asleep or hallucinating. My mind starts to race. Am I still on that couch? Is that rapist still here?

The beeping speeds up and I feel a squeeze again as the deep voice continues. “You’re safe now. I’m right here. You’re safe. Deep breaths.”

I try to hold onto his words. Real or not, they’re grounding and comforting. I’m just shocked that the voice of my subconscious is not Stella or my parents. It’s a man that I’ve known for two and a bit months. But when the weight in my hand disappears it all starts to feel real. My eyes fly open and I finally manage to survey my surroundings. There’s an IV in my arm, a clip on my finger and monitors to my sides. I sit up quickly and look around for my things. There’s no way I can afford this treatment. As I swing my legs off the side of the bed I hear footsteps behind me. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, it’s good to see you’re awake and doing better but we need you to stay in bed while we run a few more tests.” I reluctantly turn around to face the voice. “I’m Doctor Matt, the paramedics brought you in after you passed out from what at this stage seems like a panic attack, but we want to be sure…Especially considering the circumstances under which they were called.” He takes a few steps closer to the bed with a tablet in his hands. “There’s a few questions I need to ask you, but let me know if at any stage it becomes too much.”

I nod but then my eyes drift past the doctor to the man standing in the doorway. His arms are crossed over his chest, a look of worry etched on his face and his emerald eyes look bloodshot. He nods at me, “I’ll be in the waiting room.” I nod back as he turns and disappears behind the curtain.

“We’ve checked your physical injuries and they appear superficial and will heal in time, but you can take anti inflammatories for the pain. However, given the circumstances I wanted to offer for one of our psych counsellors to speak with you before we discharge you and let the police do their questioning.”

I look at the doctor and hesitantly ask, “Did you do a rape kit already?”

He shakes his head. “We wanted to wait for your consent. But also, as the man responsible is already in custody there may be no reason to put you through that. But if you want to be sure, I can ask someone to come down and run one.”

I nod. “I need to know. What if-What if I’m pregnant?”

“Unfortunately there would be no way of knowing this soon. If you take the test we’ll know if there’s any signs of ejaculate, but regardless we can also provide emergency contraception.”

I nod. “I want both. I need to know. I’ve been through too much to not know.”

“Okay. I’ll ask someone our sexual assault unit to come down.”

I nod again, but then ask, “How much extra will all this cost? You should already know I don’t have health insurance. I can’t afford-”

“We can see if we can register you for NYC Care to try and bring the bill down. In the meantime, did you want me to send your boyfriend back in to wait with you?”

“My boyfriend?” I shake my head in confusion and then it clicks. “Uh, sure.”

He notices my hesitation. “I can tell him you’re resting?”

“No it’s okay. I should talk to him.”

“You coud wait until after you speak with psych. I know this must be a difficult situation.”

“Thanks, but no. I should talk to him.”

Doctor Matt nods and walks out of the thin, paper curtain. A few long minutes later, the curtain rustles again and Jensen walks in. I want to fight with him and tell him to go to Vancouver, that he shouldn’t have skipped his flight for me, but instead I burst into tears. He rushes to my side and sits on the edge of the bed. He hesitantly takes my hand and pulls me into his arms.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you now.” He rubs his hands up my back as he hushes and soothes me. 

“Y-You shouldn’t-”

“Hey, hey. I’m exactly where I should be. I’m just glad I was here. I can’t imagine…I’m so sorry.”

I continue to cry into his shoulder while he holds me close. “Y-you t-told … boyfriend…”

“I’m sorry. I know, they wouldn’t let me in otherwise…it doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you right now. You just need to heal, but I also wanted to be here for you.” I can tell there’s so much more he wants to say but is holding back for me. 

“Jens…H-How d-d-“

“You were typing for ages. Those bubbles were there for ages and it seemed off and then when I called you didn’t answer. And the second and third time it went directly to massagebank. And then I realized…” He hugs me closer. “I’m so sorry. I should have told Clif to take you to your friend’s.”

Hearing him blame himself breaks me further. I try to hug him back. “Thank you for saving me,” I manage to get out between sobs. 

“I wish I could’ve gotten there sooner or got the emergency services. I’m sorry you went through so much.”

The curtain shuffles again and a female doctor steps inside. I pull slightly away from Jensen to look at her. “Hi Ms. Y/L/N. I’m Dr. Julie, I’m a sexual assault examiner, Dr. Matt said you wanted to get a rape test.” I nod and Jensen stands up but I grab his hand. 

“Please stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please…”

Dr. Julie looks at both of us. “He’s welcome to stay if that’s what you want as the patient, but if he does, I need to warn you both that if it comes up positive and you decide to report this crime to the police he could be asked to be a witness.”

Jensen nods. “That’s fine by me.” He looks at me, “I called the emergency services in the first place, I’m already a witness. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

I nod. “Stay.”

He helps me lay back down on the pillows before sitting on the edge of the bed and facing me. He keeps holding my hand while the doctor gathers all the supplies. She then helps pull the blanket down and checks over my whole body while taking some swabs and samples.

Jensen squeezes my hand comfortingly as he keeps his eyes on my face, not straying once.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey

[unprofessionalprofessionalbinger]

The way I started writing, had a little block for a day and now I'm almost at season four of supernatural cause apparently that's my new hyperfixation. ALSO WHY DOES JENSEN ACKLES ALWAYS LOOK GOOD??? The man ages like the finest wine.

So, apparently my brain has banned any thoughts of a different show. Atp I crave it.

Also, who the fuck decided Dean and Sammy die like every other episode??? Stop DOING THATTTTT.

[lavenderdreams205]

spn thoughts as requested

tw & spoiler warning

they should have kept the grungy filter and aesthetics from the early seasons

bring back the southern / midwest gothic vibes

dean would've listened to and loved 90's & 2000s grunge - I know that the whole "there's no good music past '79" is a key part of his personality but pre series/early seasons dean is soo nirvana / Weezer / smashing pumpkins coded

there is too much flannel in the later seasons - I miss the carhartt and leather jackets so bad

BRING BACK DEANS JEWELRY

there's so much about cas that we don't know. there's all the episodes where he just isn't there and they never tell the viewers what he's doing or where he went

on the same note, cas's personality isn't nearly as flushed out as sam's or dean's are. who is his favorite musician? what's his favorite place to travel to? why does he like the pimpmobile so much? does he actually like the trench coat or does he wear it just because it's there?

so many people characterize cas as a little guy, and while he is cute, it's important to remember that he's also an incredibly powerful eldritch horror who leads angelic armies and brands Michaels vessel just because

dean is bisexual and in love with cas - I won't take the time to list all of the reasons here, but you can definitely find those reasons somewhere

i would've loved for them to use the handprint as a physical manifestation of their bond instead of having it be just a scar that fades with time

i'm actually really ok with the way cas dies, I think it makes sense for his character and provides closure (for him, at least, not for dean)

the parallels of cas and dean meeting in a barn and then dean dying in a barn

cassie is deans first love, cas is his last

the imagery of the empty as cas's wings in 15x18

why do the subtitles spell cas as cass, its awful

there's a few lines in the early seasons that seemingly reference dean getting roofied / sa'd and are subsequently played for laughs, Jensen Ackles confirmed that dean would've done underage sw when John didn't leave them with enough money. I believe that this trauma is a major reason that dean never accepted his sexuality

the way deans alcoholism is overlooked and joked about is actually insane

having dean be completely ok after 15x18 is also insane, especially after the widower arc where the show specifically shows it's viewers how deeply dean grieves cas when he dies

deans death is literally so stupid. I get that the show is trying to make a really meta point about the characters not having plot armor anymore because chuck is gone, but dean deserved to find peace. if the events of the show had never happened and pre series dean had never gotten pre series Sam back into hunting it would've ended the exact same way - dean dead on a hunt and Sam dying from old age

dean spends as much time on earth as he did in hell, and while he would never be the same, I like to believe that if he had been allowed by the narrative to live longer he would've gotten back a little of the twinkle in his eyes that he had before hell

in 15x20 Bobby says that cas helped rebuild heaven but if he was there he would've gone to see dean. additionally, there's no way cas should have been able to escape the empty. this is such a glaringly obvious plot hole and it drives me nuts

I would've liked to see cas's wings in the show - not just the shadow of them

the only time I tolerate serious discussion of wincest is in the context of ethel cain

i am a Sam disliker - while he does have many positive qualities, I have a really hard time getting past him not looking for dean when he was in purgatory and him joking about deans alcoholism and other traumas

i like Sam the best when he's with Eileen, I think they're adorable together and I'm mad they killed her off

I am a chronic jack defender, that boy has done nothing wrong

it would be interesting to explore cas and jacks relationships with their respective genders

there's no way being forced to murder the dean clones didn't affect cas, we only saw him kill the last one but the first few he had to kill had to have been devastating

i'm really disappointed by 14x13 Lebanon, we get the scene with John and Sam but I would argue that dean has significantly more reasons to be upset with John and it's unfortunate that the episode just glossed over this - I believe a screaming match between the two would have cleared the air a bit and been at the very least cathartic for dean

i'm fairly sure that it's canonical that John sent dean away on his 17th birthday to kill lesbian ghosts. my personal hc is that John suspected that dean was bi and sent him to teach him a lesson

i saw a post on here comparing hunting culture to biker and cowboy culture and viewing those things through a queer lens and I thought it was fascinating - there's so much spn could've done if it cared about the show more than money and losing viewers

every time cas and dean beat the shit out of each other, it serves as further proof of their relationship rather than discrediting their relationship - ie demon dean and cas fighting in the library is used to parallel Cain and Collette. it could even be assumed that their love is stronger because Cain killed Collette but dean left cas alive

The purgatory love triangle was so silly

once dean worked through all of his trauma and toxic masculinity he would've been a swiftie

all of the main characters have old / vintage cars but in like season 13/14 dean sam and cas just collectively own and use this really ugly silver truck from the 2010s. its such a small detail but it absolutely ruins my viewing experience every time I see it

dean is actually really smart but most of the fandom overlooks it because Sam is characterized as the smart one. if you know anything about cars you know it takes an insane amount of brains to build a car from scratch (he did this with baby multiple times throughout the show) also he just makes an emf meter using basically nothing. if dean had been given the same opportunities he gave Sam, he would've been an engineer or something

i will always be a John hater, if this man has 0 haters, I am dead

[hologramcowboy]

During covid, I remember Jensen and Danneel did a video with someone (I want to say Jewel but I could be wrong), and Danneel brought up her own “anxiety”, and said she keeps a pill (maybe someone gave her?) as a reminder or something, that supposedly gives her the strength to get through whatever it is that bothers her.

I don’t know why but that kind of shit bothers me. As someone with anxiety and depression, I have to take medication, as well as my family members do as well. How many people do you think wish they can just hold onto a pill and be like, “Well, as long as I got this pill in my pocket. I’ll be just fine.”

It just sort of seemed mocking to me. Like it’s her own security blanket.

I’m sorry if I seem ranting or out of place here, but I can’t help but feel like this woman is delusional and she should really think before she speaks, especially if it’s about something she has no personal experience or knowledge about.

Danneel was merely trying to make herself relatable by touching upon the subject of mental health and I agree with you 100%, as someone who suffers from depression, her comment came off condescending to me. Because it invalidated a very real truth when it comes to imbalances the brain can have, medication is what helps balance the chemicals in someone's brain so it is absolutely delusional to expect healing as long as that imbalance is not dealt with. Plus, the message behind it is "There's no such thing as mental issues, I can just decide to keep a pill in my pocket and be fine", very dangerous if you ask me and it also shows how entitled and disconnected she truly is. Ages ago on Twitter she also invalidated someone's mental issues. Does anyone have a screenshot of that? No matter what example you favs give you, please, please, please take care of your mental health as fandom can very easily turn into a ground for mental issues. Just look at the overly obsessed Jenneel stans who keep sending hate to everyone who disagrees. Another example is hellers and their maintained delusion and the abuse they enact to ensure it is accepted as a reality. What I am trying to say is that fanaticism can very easily lead to mental imbalances of a serious nature so no matter what ignorant people like Danneel Ackles say, please always take care of yourselves and get whatever help is needed. There is absolutely zero wrong with taking a treatment when it is needed and it benefits your well being. Thank you, anon, for sending this in. It's so important to openly talk about mental issues and normalize care. The trouble with putting mindless celebrities like Danneel on a pedestal is exactly the toxic messages she ends up sending out. This is why I admire Genevieve, she does her research and speaks openly about topics that are important and does so by adding value to the discussion as opposed to Elta's couch activism and constant failure to engage conversational intelligence and critical thinking.

[fellshish]

How does it feel to be a prophet of the modern age? (I'm not saying your poll summoned Misha Collins but I'm also not not saying it)

Scared of my own powers right now

[lol-jackles]

Based on the three words you selected, I find that his social media and actions already exhibit this pretty consistently.

His loyalty to spn brand by sticking with CE cons, celebrating dean’s bday and his promotion of TW. He also comments and consistently likes his friends posts. He also showcases his loyalty to his family.

He posted a lot (along with his wife) when he directed for his aspiring image and promoted his albums.

He also remains mysterious because he rarely is seen outside of cons or work trips nor does he post personal or impromptu content. Everything seems planned so fans fill in the gaps in their own minds.

I am not sure what you would see him doing differently to lean into those traits and since he is portraying those words consistently, why do you think he has w branding problem?

I don’t get it. Help me understand.

I'll answer with a question: What story is Jensen telling? Who is he and why should we care? Is his SM "stories" connecting with you?

I used those 3 descriptive words because it's already what the Ackles team have attempted to cultivate. You mentioned his consistency on social media, his image has always been curated to the point that it actually feels inauthentic because it doesn't completely match with his actions. An authentic person follows through on their commitments and base their actions on their aforementioned beliefs. Did either Jensen or Misha followed through with their expressed commitment to a mental health crisis line during the YANA campaign?

Inconsistency can imply insincerity. Producers need to believe that a production is in safe hands and are unlikely to hire actor who are inconsistent in their commitments.

So it comes down to Jensen's inconsistent public persona. He ran cold and hot when it comes to interacting with Misha; he goes from never hanging with Misha outside of work while insulting him and his character, to suddenly being cutisie with Misha i.e. jumping on his back, putting his head on Misha’s shoulder - all in front of fans or leading up to the YANA campaign. In contrast, Jared’s interactions with Misha have been consistent and are always shown as buddyish, even on the show.  Jared doesn’t go out of his way to act cutsie with Misha like setting his head on his shoulder, and Misha doesn’t bait his fans into thinking there is something intimate between he and Jared.

Then there's Jensen's complacency, which hampers his consistency. I’m sure you’ve heard of “acting is reacting”, which is another way of saying you’re only as good as your scene partner. This saying gets mocked in the acting community because it’s a trap actors fall into by adjusting their truthful inner life to their assumptions about the text.  This has been Jensen's acting strength and weakness. Good acting is adjusting the text to your authentic emotion, which is the result of the other person.   Jensen is in what my acting coach calls “the truthful contact”, it’s where actors are taught the first stage of authentic acting.  The next stage is “crafting”, meaning you’re working solo without a screen partner and have to effectively get across justifications and point of views.  Jensen acting is primarily “the truthful contact” and it’s became his comfort zone. While it made him a multimillionaire by his mid 30s, it also made him complacent and dependent on the strength of his screen partner. Without the right partner, his "truthful contact" is gone and so is the connection.

“It’s chemistry and vibration that truly empowers connectivity.” – Tim Girvin.

Danneel is a weak screen partner for Jensen, and he doesn't appear to connect with her or to most of his colleagues, and that translate to his lack of connection in his brand, which translate to lack of a brand. It's why his chemistry and connection with Jared was so important for raising his profile.

This the typical call-types that casting directors get for adult males between the age of 28 and 45:

leading man

the nice guy

that creepy weird guy

jock

blue-collar worker

cop/career military

executive

lawyer/politician

teacher/professor

dad

computer genius

salesman

slacker

doctor/nurse

jokester

player

slimy con man

criminal/thug/heavy

artist/poet/musician

Actor's band can be hybrids of up to 3 types. Jared is #1, #6, and #10. I suggested that a third of Jensen's brand lean into #19, the poet/musician type to give him an air of mystery instead of unpredictability. Notice that there isn't a call-type for jerk-with-heart-of-gold, because that's usually reserved for much younger actors so Jensen needs to leave the Dean Winchester persona behind.

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Congratulations on 800, prinny! I've loved getting to know you and seeing you become a writer. I also love your makeup skills, and it's so fun that we share a love of horror. .b. which brings me to my random question.

What horror movie moment is super hot for you?

Has there ever been a scene where you were like oh shit idk if that's supposed to be hot but I'm here for it?

sorry if I'm off topic

TOXIC!!! Thank you so so much bby!! I really love this question! And you, I love you! Also so on topic! I could talk horror for hours!!

Okay there are a lot of moments lmao but also not necessarily moments but just the characters themselves and seeing them on the screen and next thing you know my pussy has a heart beat Lmfaoo details under the cut

- Pyramid head from Silent Hill. Honestly just seeing him I was like 😳. I want him to throw me over his shoulder and just manhandle me and do ungodly things.

- Texas Chainsaw (2003 specifically) I was like in 3rd or 4th grade when I watched this 😅 probably shouldn’t have been, whatever. But damn does he do it for me. I really like em large and in charge 😋

-Predator. Yes Predator. Love all of the movies but Predator 4 (with Boyd Holbrook 😉) I fucking loved when they all thought he was this big creature and then the bigger one came out and the smaller one was fighting him and yea it got me going.

-House of Wax. Bo Sinclair. Enough said. I vividly remember he poured wax over the girls mouth and then kissed her 🥵 (my brain is making me second guess myself but I still see this scene in my head lol)

-okay this one is probably odd lol so Tim curry’s It terrifies me. I do not fuck with his IT. But Bill Skarsgards IT I wanna fuck. Bad. I am into that clown. I loved the scene where Beverly saw the flashback of him and it was his human face (I believe it was when she was at the old lady’s house) fucking loved it.

- My bloody Valentine (2009) good god I’d go into those mines for Tom (Jensen ackles) and the scene where he’s chasing them in the store and they try to hide in the back office whew.

- The Boy. When I first saw this I did not see the plot twist coming and great googly moogly I want to tear Brahms ass up. I want to dom tf out of him. He’s so subby and such a sweet creepy little stalker.

There’s def more but I’m blanking for whatever reason lmao I’m also realizing I watched a lot of these horror movies at a very young age 😅

[j2memories]

The New York Times article (April 18th, 2014)

Eternal Life, Thanks to Angels and Abs

By Mike Hale

April 18, 2014

SURREY, British Columbia — The first episode of the scary-monster show “Supernatural,” in which a college student came home and found his girlfriend on the ceiling, roasting like a blond marshmallow, was shown by the WB network on Sept. 13, 2005.

Since then quite a few shows have come and gone — “Breaking Bad,” “Friday Night Lights,” “30 Rock,” “Dexter,” to name a few — but “Supernatural” is still here, now on CW on Tuesday nights. Midway through its ninth demon-stabbing, vampire-decapitating, angel-ganking season, it’s the sixth-longest-running drama currently in prime time — and it’s already been renewed for another season.

How does a show that gets relatively little attention and even less credit in the age of the prime-time drama find itself on a short list with series like “Law & Order: SVU” and “Grey’s Anatomy”? We went to the suburbs of Vancouver, where the 190th episode was being shot, to ask. Here are some possibilities.

It’s about the hair.

Between takes at the seedy-motel location — an actual seedy motel here, about 40 minutes south of Vancouver, just above the American border — several young women trot out and run their fingers through the hair of the stars, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki.

“The way my hair is, if I get out of the shower and put a beanie on or something, it just kind of lays,” said Mr. Padalecki, whose leonine tresses are one of the show’s trademarks. “But it doesn’t lay well for the camera, because it’ll cover” — he gestures to his face — “the thing.”

Mr. Ackles, whose laugh is like the crack of the show’s magic Colt revolver, said, “I’m fairly certain that that mop is solely responsible for the 10th-season pickup.”

It’s about the brothers.

Mr. Ackles and Mr. Padalecki play Dean and Sam Winchester, brothers with a family tradition of demon hunting. Mr. Ackles was 26 and Mr. Padalecki 22 when the show began, and they are “Supernatural” — conversations with co-stars, show runners and network and studio presidents always come around to Jensen and Jared, Jared and Jensen.

In the motel parking lot, through endless takes in the February chill, they set the tone, joking with the crew, then discussing with the director how to block a scene in which they’re thrown against their black 1967 Impala by the flick of an angel’s finger.

“At the end of the day we have a very good understanding that a lot of it comes down to he and I, and how we relate to each other on- and off-screen,” Mr. Ackles said. “That was impressed upon us very early on by Eric Kripke,” the show’s creator. “He sat us down the first episode and said, ‘Listen, guys, this begins and ends with you.’ ”

It’s about Joseph Campbell. And masculinity.

Misha Collins plays the naïve but deadly angel Castiel, the Winchesters’ mascot and fellow warrior. He studied social theory at the University of Chicago and worked in the Clinton White House and he’s a very smart man, so we should probably listen: “The show deals with universally appealing mythology story lines, the kind of stuff that Joseph Campbell would be proud to see on television,” he said, “but grounds it in personal relationships.”

“It’s really a show about boys becoming men,” he added. “It’s about manhood and these guys who vacillate between testosterone-infused knife fights and gun battles and then crying on one another’s shoulders, having their intimate brotherhood-of-men moments. And I think that’s something you don’t see that much of on television.”

And angels.

“It used to be about guys on the road hunting urban legends,” Mr. Padalecki said, referring to the first four or five seasons sketched out by Mr. Kripke, who pitched the show as “Route 66” meets “The X-Files.” “And then angels came in,” he added, and that annoyed them. “We’re like: ‘We didn’t sign up for a religious show. I don’t want to make a statement on angels. I came to do “X-Files.” ’ But it’s kept on finding new ground.”

Robert Singer, the series’s longtime show runner, said: “The biggest tipping point was the introduction of angels. It seemed to be a natural place to go once we’d gone so far into demon stories.”

It’s about Netflix.

As with many other shows these days, everyone involved credits online streaming of past seasons for increasing current viewership. “We’ve had a real jump in teenagers who are watching the show,” Mr. Singer said. “They were 5 or 6 when it started, and they didn’t know the show from Adam. The fact that they can go back and see it from the beginning and get themselves invested to watch it now is a big thing.”

It’s about beefcake.

Mr. Padalecki is 6-foot-5, Mr. Ackles is 6 feet, and together they are, as Mr. Padalecki puts it, “400 pounds of dude.” Misha Collins said, “Yeah, I think we would be lying to ourselves if we weren’t admitting that that’s an aspect of this dynamic.”

The Winchesters politely demur. Mr. Padalecki: “As flattering as that is, out of 190 episodes I think I’ve taken my shirt off less than 10 times.” Mr. Ackles: “We probably keep our clothes on more than any other show on this network.”

But what the heck. “If people watch because Jensen’s handsome or they like my hair, and then they say, ‘This is a really cool show, they really put their heart and soul into this and I’ll tune in again,’ fine,” Mr. Padalecki said. “Whatever gets them in the seats, right?”

It’s about the fans.

Whether it’s angels, abs or both, the cast members spend part of every summer break traveling around the world to “Supernatural” fan conventions.

“When we go to São Paulo for a convention and there are 50 people camped out on the hotel doorstep just waiting to get a glimpse of us,” Mr. Collins said, “and when we go into the halls and there are 1,500 or 2,000 people and the screaming will be so deafening we have to cover our ears — it’s like we have this one moment where you can feel like you’re a Beatle. And then you get to go about your normal life the rest of the year.”

Not all fans are content simply to attend conventions. Some of them want to take a hand in the story, and their fan fiction can explore areas mostly untouched on the show, like the latent homoerotic suggestiveness of the Winchesters’ intense relationship. Asked if he reads any of this material, Mr. Ackles said: “I don’t. I know it’s out there, and I’m, I’m — the people that have asked me about it are well aware that I would rather not know about that.”

It’s about humility.

The Winchesters — that is, Mr. Ackles and Mr. Padalecki — are enthusiastic and accommodating interview subjects, seeking out a reporter at every break to talk up their underdog show, finishing each other’s sentences, always agreeing. They reflect their characters, or vice versa: Mr. Ackles is the quiet, watchful older brother, keeping an eye on the eagerly talkative Mr. Padalecki.

Jensen: “We both had strong fathers who instilled a good work ethic in us.”

Jared: “And I think a gratitude for the work. And there’s certainly times — ”

Jensen: “A respect — ”

Jared: “A respect for everybody — ”

Jensen: “And humble.”

Jared: “There have been times when I’ve let myself get overwhelmed with, ‘Oh, I feel so overworked.’ And Ackles has been like: ‘Dude. Remember.’ And I’m like, ‘Oh yeah.’ ”

It’s about the future.

“Supernatural” is projected to hit the 200-episode milestone next season; a pilot for a spinoff series, “Supernatural: Bloodlines,” will be shown April 29. How long can the magic last?

“As long as these numbers keep up, and as long as these guys want to do it, ‘Supernatural’ will stay on the air,” said Mark Pedowitz, president of CW. If he doesn’t keep the promise, there’s a 12-inch angel dagger with his name on it.

Link to the article