#jensen ackles' perfect fucking face

[anundyingfidelity]

TRAINING SEASON — Jensen Ackles

Summary: After a tumultuous relationship and a hard break up, you get trapped in between your co-star and a casual one night stand. But there's nothing you regret about.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x female reader, actress!reader.

Word count: 1,076.

Warnings: implied sex like the morning-after-sex, nudity, some sexy time but no full smut, friends to lovers, language, idk just wrote this quickly.

Notes: AU where Jensen is obviously single, and reader is like 38 in my head don't asky why I like this number, I still have no idea. And I just love, and I mean, loooveeee getting obsessed with hot men over 40, can you tell?

>> disclaimer: i totally respect the private lifes of the actors and celebrities i use for my fanfictions, and of course their personal relationships. this is only fiction written for fun and nothing more.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Opening your eyes, you stirred on the soft bed and noticed your sorroundings. This wasn't your hotel room. Your bare body hidden under the blank, messy bed sheets reminded you of yesterday's events. You smiled.

The other side of the bed was warm. His body pressing against yours felt perfect, and you wrapped your hand on his own, which was laying on your waist, like if he didn't want to let go of you. Your mind started remembering his touch on your skin, the way he would kiss every inch of your stomach, the trail of kisses he left all over you, and his love bites around your neck and chest. The burning between your thighs and the soreness let you notice it was as good as you imagined it to be, even before it happened.

"Whatcha thinking?" he asked, raspy and soft voice booming in your ears.

"Mmm... Nothing, just how great you felt last night," you teased, turning your head to see his face directly. Bare skin, disheveled hair, and tired but loving eyes met you. God, he was beautiful. He looked so fucked out in the best way possible one could describe it.

Jensen chuckled and kissed your cheek. Still, he never let go his embrace on you. He looked at you vividly for a long time, scanning every feature of your face, like he wanted to save all of you in just an instant. Your brows furrowed for a moment.

"What?" you whispered.

"We didn't fuck this up, did we?"

A sigh left your lips, your hand ran on his hair softly. You knew what he meant. You had a bad relationship and an even worse break up months before you started working together, and Jensen became a great friend as you tried to overcome it. And it was so hard not to fall for him when it felt like you knew each other for decades. He was someone you could trust your deepest secrets, pain and thoughts. A part of you did not want to cry on his shoulder for days once you got comfortable around him, nor letting him know how terrible you felt at the time. But he never judged you. He just was there, listening and offering a helping hand expecting nothing back.

But your feelings changed in the course. As months went by, an amazing, caring and loving friendship bloomed between both of you. Since the project was a long new TV series, you used to spend a huge amount of time together as your characters appeared to be in a slow building relationship. And now, the premiere was done, but the press tour barely started, so that meant you were not getting away from each other in a good time now.

"No," you finally answered. "Of course no."

"I mean, I know what you been through, and I- I don't wanna ruin anything-"

"Jensen, is fine," you cut him off. His eyes locked on yours, concern washed all over his handsome face. "I am fine with this, are you?"

"Absolutely," he said. "I always was. I mean, I liked you for a long time now," he laughed a little, making you smile. One of his hands now carressing your bare thigh, feeling the heat of your skin.

Jensen leaned down and pecked your lips softly, his lips slowly found its way to your neck, kissing and biting the flesh, exactly how he did last night. He groaned, tasting the saltiness, and you let out a soft moan as he flipped you around. You laid on your back, him on top. His tongue tracing your skin, stopping right before your breats. God, you were getting wet again.

Unlucky for you, your phone started ringing, breaking the moment and Jensen, with a disappointed look on his face, gave you the space to run and answer. By the way you were talking, he figured it was your manager, so he hid behind the covers, admiring you from afar. When you ended the phone call, you walked to him. His eyes kept lusting over your naked figure as you looked for your clothes all over the room. He sadly knew you were postponing until you had enough alone time together.

"I keep forgetting we're still on press tour," you kissed his cheek softly once you put on your underwear and grabbed your clothes to get decent to leave. "I'll be going now, sorry."

"It's fine," Jensen smiled, standing up and putting up some pants. He followed you before you crossed the door. "I'll see you later tonight then, how about dinner?" he casually asked, leaning down. "And then we could probably take care of some other things," he whispered in your ear. You bit your lip, eager to know what he had in mind.

"That'll be amazing, surprise me!"

You gave him a playful wink, and taking your purse you left his room with a wide grin on your face. You were so glad you stopped dating trainees to build a relationship with. Jensen was a self-confident, expert man, and you were more than happy to give it a shot.

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship pt 4

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: SMUT!, oral sex, fluff

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

This chapter has some spice at the beginning and then some fluff. Hey, it’s about balance. 😀 The reader and Jensen’s relationship crosses a line.

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.

Minors DNI 18+

Jensen’s lips captured mine in a deep, need filled kiss. His teeth pulled my bottom lip as he pulled back. His fingers danced delicately across my skin, excited and turned me on. 

His hands slipped behind my back and unhooked my bra. My ample breasts sprang free, pulling a groan from him. Jensen licked his lips and started to kiss down my neck, across my collarbone and to my breasts. One hand cupped my breast while his mouth sucked and nibbled on the other. 

I arched my back and moaned his name. “Mmm yes, Jensen. More.” “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” “You, please, Jensen, I want you.” 

Jensen’s lips trailed down my body. I suddenly became insecure and tried to cover my body. Jensen’s head shot up and he looked at me, “Don’t darlin’, you’re so gorgeous. Every..(he kissed me)...inch…(he kissed down my stomach)....of…(kissing my stretch marks)....you….(his lips stopped at my pants).” 

Jensen’s eyes met mine, I nodded yes. His fingers worked fast to undo my pants. I lifted my hips as he pulled them down, pulling my panties with them. 

Jensen tossed my pants to the side and smirked. He bent down as I slid up the bed, my head coming to rest on the pillows. His eyes flicked to mine, now a dark, lust filled green that sent a shiver down my spine. 

He licked his lips and I bit mine. My breathing quickened with anticipation. Jensen slowly spread my legs as he kissed up my thighs. I could feel the need and prospect of things to come. As he reached my folds he gently parted them with his long, thick fingers. A small moan fell from my lips. 

Jensen’s fingers slowly touched my dripping wet core and my hips instinctively moved into him. He smirked when he felt how wet I was already. Jensen’s thumb brushed against my swollen clit as he stuck two fingers inside me. 

My back arched off the bed as a wave of pleasure rushed through my body. Jensen’s tongue and mouth moved over my clit with perfect precision as he continued to push his fingers inside, hitting my sweet spot. My hands gripping the sheets and then his hair. 

My mind was a mess as the pleasure of it all rushed through me. “Oh fuck, Jensen! Don’t stop, please.” Gasps and moans fell from my lips as Jensen devoured me like a man eating his last meal. I felt the familiar tightness as my impending orgasm threatened to send me spiraling over the edge. 

My legs began to shake and Jensen could sense my body tensing. He licked, sucked and pumped faster. Lifting his head, he looked at me. The pleasure of the moment evident on my face, “Cum for me baby. I want to taste you.” Jensen continued his task and pushed me further to the edge. As he inserted a third finger he began to suck on my overly sensitive clit, and the coil snapped like a stretched rubber band. 

My hands pushing his head further in as I started to cum, “Fuck! Jensen I’m cumming. Oh god! Yes!” I screamed in pleasure. Jensen kept licking and sucking, making sure to get every last bit of my orgasm out of my body. My legs were trying to close, but Jensen’s strong arms held them apart. 

When he was sure I was done, he leaned up. My juices covering his face and five o’clock shadow. Jensen looked at me, my face flushed with pleasure and glistening with sweat. My chest rising and falling with every breath I took. He smiled, and leaned down, kissing my lips. 

“Wow, Jensen. That was amazing.” He smiled at me, “Yes it was. Thank you, Y/N.” As he leaned back I saw him adjust himself. His cock rock hard and straining against his pants. “Jensen, that can’t be comfortable, come on baby. Now it’s your turn.” 

I leaned up and looked at Jensen as my fingers found his button. He nodded and I unbuttoned his pants, my fingers lightly pulling the zipper down as my knuckles brushed against his erection. Pulling a half hiss, half moan from his lips. 

I smirked as I slowly pulled down his pants and his boxers, pulling a groan from his lips. His rock hard cock sprang free from the confines of his boxers. I bit my lip looking at the sheer size and girth of him. 

“It’s okay baby, I’ll go slow.” My breath quickened as I laid back, pushing myself up to the pillows. Jensen grabbed a condom from the side table and slid it on. The anticipation building, causing my body to become more aroused. 

Jensen climbed on the bed and positioned himself between my legs. He pumped his length a few times and his gaze met mine. “Are you ready, baby?” I nodded, not trusting my voice. 

I felt his cockhead push past my folds and at the entrance of my pussy. Our eyes locked on each other as he started to push in. I moaned as he pushed his length in, stretching me to fit him perfectly. My walls are tight around his cock. As he bottomed out, he groaned and put his forehead on mine. 

“Sorry, baby. I need a minute. You’re so tight, I don’t want to cum too fast.” I nodded and kissed him. He deepened the kiss as he started to move. My back arched as he moved his hips into mine. “God you feel so good, Y/N.” 

As Jensen’s pace picked up our moans filled the air. I grabbed his shoulders as he kissed my body with each thrust. His head falling to the crook of neck from time to time, his hot breath rushing over me. 

Jensen pulled out and I whined at the loss of fullness. “I want you on top, baby. I want to see your beautiful body. Take control.” My breath hitched, “Jensen, I don’t want to hurt you.” His hand cupped my face, “Darlin’ you won’t. Please, I want to see you ride me.” 

Jensen laid back and I straddled him. My legs on either side of his thighs. I took his cock in my hand and lined him up to my entrance and I slowly sat down. I used his chest to help steady me. As I started to rock my hips. 

Jensen’s hands ran up my legs, and up my torso to my breasts. He palmed them as I rocked and bounced. “Yes, baby. Just like that. God you’re so beautiful, Y/N.” 

Jensen lifted his legs, changing the position slightly and giving me more leverage. I placed my hands on his solid chest and continued to move. I sped up as Jensen’s moans grew louder. I was panting and moaning with each movement. I felt the familiar coil tightening in my core. I knew I was close to another release. 

“Jens, I’m close again. Oh fuck!.” “Me too, baby. Keep going.” Jensen’s hips moved into mine. Our bodies are perfectly in sync. Without too much warning my second release hit just as Jensen’s did. My walls clenched around his cock and pulled out his hot cum. He shot his load in the condom. His hips bucked into me as he rode out his release. Jensen’s grip on my hips tightened as he continued to empty his seed in the condom. 

When the two of us were coming down from our high, I climbed off of Jensen and walked to the bathroom to clean myself and get a washcloth for Jensen. 

I returned and he removed the condom, disposing it in the trash can, and he cleaned himself off. Tossing the washcloth into the hamper, Jensen laid back on the bed and offered me his arm. “Come here darlin’” He said as he pulled me close to him. 

He placed a kiss on my lips and held me tightly. “I love you, Y/N.” He whispered. My heart fluttered, “I love you too, Jensen.” He smiled and closed his eyes. My heart beat fast in my chest. I looked at him, his jaw relaxed and his breathing evening out. A look of pure contentment on his face. I laid my head on his chest, and closed my eyes. My heart is so full of love. We both drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. 

The next few days were spent going about our normal lives. Jazzy and I went back home, but she refused to sleep alone. I barely slept because I was scared. Robert had bonded out of jail, there was a restraining order, but that never stopped anyone. I didn’t want to admit to Jensen how scared I was to stay at my place. I felt safe at his house, in his arms.

Since the night Jensen and I made love, our relationship was getting stronger. He and the kids were coming over for dinner tonight, so I took the day off to get the house ready and get things for dinner. The kids were at school, and Jensen was working. 

I cleaned the house, went to the store and came home. Looking at the clock I realized I had about 3 hours before I had to get the kids from school, so I decided to take a nap. I was completely exhausted from the lack of sleep at night. Every sound startled me awake, every whimper from Jazzy made me sit up and keep vigil over her. 

I grabbed the blanket that hung over the foot of my bed and laid down on the pillows. Before too long I was asleep. 

Jensen pulled into the driveway with a smile plastered on his face. He grabbed the flowers he had picked up at the florist, and walked to the door. Grabbing the door handle, he realized it was locked. Taking out his key, he turned it and pushed open the door. 

He smirked when he looked around at the house. He knew I was feverishly cleaning and getting ready for dinner. Walking into the house he was met with silence. Sitting the flowers down he walked up the stairs to my bedroom. Pushing open the door he saw me asleep on the bed. The floor under his heavy boot creaked causing me to shoot up and gasp. “Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s me, baby.” 

I took a shaky breath, and as I let it out I started sobbing, apologizing to him. He crossed the room and pulled me into his arms, “Shh, it’s okay baby. I’m sorry I scared you.” His hands rubbing my head and holding me tight to his chest. 

After a few minutes and some grounding breaths I spoke, “Jens, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you. I thought it was…” My voice trailed off. “Baby, it’s okay. You’re safe. I promise.” 

My eyes looked into his, a silent plea to save me and Jazzy from the turmoil I was facing alone. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Jensen asked softly. “Nothing, it will be okay.” I said softly.

Jensen’s fingers softly lifted my chin, “Sweetheart, please tell me what’s wrong. You look exhausted and you’re shaking and crying.” I looked into his green eyes, “I just, I haven’t been sleeping and Jazzy hasn’t slept alone since we came home. I’m so scared, Jensen. Scared he’s going to come back and finish what he started.” “Y/N, I promise you, I will keep you and Jazzy safe. He won’t hurt you again, either of you. Move in with me and the kids.” 

My eyes widened and a soft gasp left my lips, “What?” “I want you and Jazzy to move in with me and the kids. The other night when we all spent the evening together, it felt perfect. I don’t want that feeling to go away. The kids love you and Jazzy, I love you and Jazzy. Come on baby, move in with us. If you’re more comfortable with staying in the guest room you can, or move into my room. I don’t care as long as the two of you are there. We can be a real family.” 

A smile formed across my face, my heart fluttered, “Jensen, are you really sure? What about the kids? I don’t want them to be upset.” “They love the idea. I may have already mentioned it to them. I was going to ask you later tonight.” “Jensen, if you’re sure, then yes! We will move in with you guys.” 

Jensen’s lips captured mine in a deep kiss. I smiled against his lips. “Baby, I need to get some things together for a few days. Want to help me?” Jensen smiled, “Well, I’d rather have sex, but yeah I’ll help.” “I gently touched his chest, “There will be plenty of time for that later, I promise.” “Yes there will be, lots of time. How does the rest of our lives sound?” I leaned in to kiss his lips again, “Perfect.” 

A few hours later we had picked up the kids and brought them back to my place. The kids were playing, but I noticed Jazzy seemed a bit off. Jensen noticed it too. “Hey Jazzy, what’s wrong baby girl?” She hung her head and said, “Nothing. I’m okay.” Jensen and I exchanged a look. We knew something was wrong. I opened her book bag to see if there was a behavior note from her teacher, but what I found broke my heart. There was an invitation for a “Father/Daughter Dance” at the school for Friday night. My heart broke for her. 

I walked over to Jensen with the paper in my hand and showed it to him. He looked at me and I could see the sadness in his eyes. “Baby, let me take her and Arrow. That is, if she wants to go with me.” “Jens, that would be perfect, are you sure Arrow wouldn’t mind sharing you?” “Oh no, she’d love it. I have an idea, but I need to take 2 of your roses.” I smiled and nodded. 

Jensen grabbed the two roses and the paper and walked across the yard to the girls. He held the flowers behind his back. “Arrow, can you come here please?” Jensen asked as he walked towards them. 

“Yes daddy?” She asked. “I heard there was a dance on Friday at your school.” “Oh yeah! I forgot. Daddy, it's for you and me only, Zeppy can’t come.” She giggled. “So I see, well (he presented one of the roses) will you go with me to the dance baby girl?” She squealed in delight, “Yes, daddy!!” She took the flower and twirled around. I noticed Jazzy standing to the side, looking sad. 

Jensen walked over to her and got down on his knee, “Miss Jazzy, will you accompany Arrow and I to the dance on Friday night? I want to take two of my best girls to the dance.” He presented the second flower to her and her face lit up like twinkle lights on a Christmas tree. “Yes!” She squealed as she took the flower. 

I stood to the side and smiled at the way my daughter’s face lit up. As Jensen walked back over to me I kissed his lips. “You’re amazing, you know that. What you just did for her is something she will remember for the rest of her life.” “Good, because she deserves the world, so does her mama.” I smiled as he kissed me.

*Friday*

“Okay girls, let’s get your dresses on and your hair fixed.” I said as I called the girls into mine and Jensen’s room. The girls came bounding into the room giggling with excitement. “Mommy, Arrow said I could dance with Daddy Jensen.” “That’s so sweet, Jazzy. I love dancing with Daddy Jensen. He’s a great dancer.” 

“Who’s a great dancer?” Jensen said as he appeared at the bathroom door. He was wearing a suit and tie, his hair styled back, clean shaven, and his cologne filled the space between us. I bit my lip. “You are, daddy.” Jazzy and Arrow both said. 

Jensen chuckled, “Well I am pretty talented.” “And full of yourself too, Mr. Ackles.” I teased playfully. “Yeah, well you love it, Ms Y/L/N.” “Yes I do, and I love you.” I kissed his lips softly. “I love you too.” 

“Now, I need you to leave so I can get these girls ready. You’re a distraction in that suit.” I smirked. Jensen threw his head back and laughed, “Oh am I? Hmmm maybe we can discuss how much of a distraction later after I get back.” He pulled me flush to him, “Yes, Jensen, now go so I can get them ready.” 

About twenty minutes later the girls were dressed and their hair perfectly curled and pinned up. Arrow chose a light pink flowy dress with flowers on the skirt and her black ballet flats. Jazzy chose a yellow dress that reminded you of the ball gown Belle wore when she danced with the Beast. Both girls had their hair half up and half down with ringlet curls. 

The girls walked hand in hand down the stairs and I walked behind them. Jensen was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with two corsages, one for each girl. After slipping the corsages on their wrists, Jensen grabbed their coats and helped them put them on. 

I took pictures and smiled as I saw Jensen interacting with the girls. He was an amazing father, and you couldn’t tell which one of the girls was his real daughter, because he treated them both equally. It made me fall even more in love with him. 

I said my goodbyes and kissed the girls and then Jensen. “Y'all have fun, and don’t stay out too late.” The girls giggled and Jensen kissed me again, “I love you.” 

I closed the door and went into the living room with Zeppelin and JJ. We decided it was a pizza and movie night since it was just the three of us. After the pizza got there I made us a picnic on the living room floor and turned on a movie. 

Throughout the night I was getting texts from Jensen with pictures and updates. Jazzy looked so incredibly happy. I had no idea how I was going to repay Jensen. He didn’t have to include her, but he did. 

JJ, Zeppelin and I finished off the pizza, watched the movie and played some games. As I got the kids to bed, JJ looked at me with a smile on her face, “Miss Y/N, do you love my daddy?” I smiled softly, “Yes, I do, very much, and I love you three too.” She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly, “Good, because I love you too. I miss my mama, but I want you to be my mama too.” 

My breath hitched and my eyes filled with tears, “Oh JJ, I’d love to be your second mama. You know your mama loved you very much, and wouldn’t have left if she could have helped it.” JJ sat there quietly for a minute, “I know. I’m glad she sent you and Jazzy to us.” She hugged me again and laid down. 

I kissed her head and told her goodnight. Walking back downstairs to clean up I replayed what JJ said to me over and over in my head. I couldn’t help but smile at how my life had changed so quickly. 

My phone went off with a text.

Jensen: Hey, the girls are asleep, can you come help me. 🙂

Me: Yes, I’m on my way.

I walked into the garage and found Jensen leaning against the car, shirt unbuttoned a little at the top, tie hanging loosely around his neck. I bit my lip. How can one man look so incredible no matter what he’s wearing? A light blush filled my cheeks. He pushed off the car and smiled, placing a soft kiss on my lips. 

“Welcome home, honey.” I whispered against his lips. We opened the car doors, he grabbed Arrow and I grabbed Jazzy, carrying both sleeping girls into the house.

We climbed the stairs and carried them to their room. I changed Jazzy and he changed Arrow out of their dresses and into their pajamas. Jazzy woke up a little bit, “Hi mommy.” “Hi baby girl, did you have fun?” “Yes, I love daddy so much.” 

I smiled over at Jensen who had heard what she said and a smile stretched to his eyes, causing his eye crinkles to be dominant. 

Jensen and I left the room and softly closed the door. I pulled him into my arms, “Thank you, Jensen for loving her like she was your own. What you did for her tonight is something she will remember forever.” He cupped my face and softly kissed my lips, “You’re welcome darlin’, and she is mine now. Both of you are.” I smiled and he took my hand, leading me downstairs. 

“So how did it go here? Were the kids good?” Jensen asked when we got downstairs. “It was great. We had a pizza picnic in the living room and watched a movie, played games, and JJ asked me to be her mama, you know nothing major.” I smirked. Jensen’s eyes went wide, “Wow, that’s huge.” He pulled me flush to his chest, “Seems like I’m not the only one in love with you. So can I ask, what did you say?” I placed my hands on his chest, “I told her I’d love to be her second mama. I told her that I loved the four of you very much.” 

“Sounds like we both had an incredible night. Y/N, thank you for coming into our lives. I didn’t realize how adrift we were until you and Jazzy came into our lives and hearts. This, all of this feels perfect, like we belong together.” I nodded, “I agree, Jensen. Now, let’s go to bed. You’re killing me dressed like this.” I smiled and my tongue licked my lip, pulling it into my teeth. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Jensen laughed as he locked up and chased me quietly up the stairs. I giggled down the hall and to our shared room. When we got into the room, we fell onto the bed tangled in each other’s arms. Jensen peppered me with kisses as I squirmed and giggled under him. “God I love hearing you laugh.” Jensen said as he looked down at me. 

The rest of the night was spent tangled in each other, making love and exploring each other’s bodies. As we drifted off to sleep, Jensen’s fingers lightly running up and down my arm, I softly sighed. “I love you, Jensen.” “I love you too, Y/N.” He placed a soft kiss on the top of my head, and I fell asleep in the arms of the man I love. 

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[tom-whore-dleston]

lace and lust

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x f. reader

Word Count: 391

This fic contains: pwp, lingerie, spanking, hair pulling, hickies

Summary: You surprise Jensen for his birthday with something you know he would like.

Notes: It's national Jensen Ackles day so of course I was gonna write a quick fic in honor of today. This piece is for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love challenge. The prompt I chose was Eros (sexual passion) - Lingerie.

Wearing lingerie stirred a hunger in Jensen the same way it brewed confidence for you. So when he was welcomed home with you in a red see-through robe that gave a sneak peak of your new lacy black bra and panties set, you were pleased to watch his lustful reaction to your wardrobe choice. The corner of his lips curved into a smirk that made your knees quiver. He didn't need to exchange words with you to know he craved you more than anything.

"Do you like it?" You asked, relieving the tension that fogged the bedroom.

"Oh, I do, baby," Jensen purred, his eyelids hooded and pupils dilated. "Turn around for me so I can get more of a good look atcha."

You obeyed with enthusiasm, slowly spinning to face your back towards him. Jensen muttered profanities under his breath as his gaze landed on your ass cheeks that poked out from your panties. A growl erupted from his throat as you bent over with your back arched. It was a picture perfect sight for the birthday boy, but he was too impatient and needy for you to snap a photo for future use.

Suddenly, a strong hand smacked one of your butt cheeks, causing it to ripple like a pebble in water. You gasped at the abruptness of the contact, but didn't have time to process it as Jensen slapped your other cheek with a tad more force than the last.

"Fuck, Jensen, more! Please," you whined in desperation. Jensen chuckled lowly behind you before giving you exactly what you desired. He alternated between both of your ass cheeks, adding more power to each spank, causing your moans to grow louder and breathier.

Once Jensen was satisfied with the damage done to your ass, he grabbed a fistful of your hair by the roots, yanking you up to press your back against his hard chest. His plump lips grazed against your neck, before sucking harshly on that sensitive spot that drove you wild. You whimpered at the delicious combination of his lips, tongue, and beard touching your skin, goosebumps pricking over your arms.

"Thank you for this nice birthday surprise," Jensen's Texan accent oozed over your ear like honey, and you wanted a taste. "If you don't mind, I'd like to unwrap my present and play with what's inside."

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Jensen Ackles Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

[impala-dreamer]

Save Me - Part One

A Short Story

~ Sometimes, when life seems the brightest, shadows creep in. After announcing their engagement to the world, Jensen's fiancé is kidnapped. With the help of a friend, she tries to fight her way back home to him.~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader, Dean Winchester

7,160 Words Total. Part one: 3,209

Warnings: My kind of Super Angst. Blood. Injury. Kidnapping. It's really sad...

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "No one's coming to save you. Get up!"

PART ONE ~ PART TWO

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Her thoughts were hazy; her head throbbing from the repeated blows. The blood that had trickled down her neck had dried and she could feel how matted her hair was around the wounds.

Her muscles ached, her skin was bruised and broken in more than one spot. The cramped trunk she’d been forced into and the bumpy ride had nearly crippled her. She’d tried to count the turns they took, the miles they raced across, but disorientation and fear had been too much to overcome.

Wrists and knees bound in scratchy, rough rope and eyes blinded by a scarf, Y/N was led from the car and dragged up a few stairs. She could hear a lock turn and the hinges of a door creak. Boots on a wooden floor; the heavy breathing of her captor.

The house was warm. Heat was pulsing up from hissing radiators and the smell hung heavy in the air, mixing with the stench of stale cigarettes and rotting trash. Still, she was grateful for the warmth. January in Indianapolis was freezing and the trunk hadn’t exactly been insulated.

“Where are you taking me?” she whimpered, cringing as the fingers around her upper arms dug into her flesh.

There was no answer.

“Please! Don’t do this. We can work something out.”

When she refused to take another step, she was yanked forward and thrown into another room. Her sneakers squeaked and she recognized the sound of cheap linoleum flooring under her rubber soles.

A kitchen. Knives. A backdoor, maybe.

She twisted against the tight hold. “Please, just let me go. I swear to god I won’t go to the cops. No charges pressed. Please. We can get out of this mess.”

The giant hand gripped her harder and Y/N groaned at the pain.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

A gruff voice shouted by her ear. “Shut up!”

She bit her tongue but refused to give up. “Let me go!”

With all of her strength, she pivoted to the right, shoving her elbow hard into the solid body behind her. She heard a pained grunt and the hand holding her released. She spun around the other way and tried to run, but it was no use. Still tied, her knees buckled and she began to fall.

The hands were back, yanking her harshly back onto her feet. She screamed and fist collided with her jaw. Sparks erupted in the blackness of her vision, pain spread across her face.

“Told you to shut up!”

Y/N held her breath and squeezed her lips shut.

Tugged forward again, she stumbled deeper into the kitchen and heard a door open. Cold air hit her face and she shuddered.

“Where are we going?” Tears soaked into the blindfold. “Please…”

Hands released her and Y/N teetered on the edge of what felt like the top of a staircase.

A basement.

She panicked.

“No, no, no!”

“I told you to shut the fuck up!”

His fist connected with her temple and Y/N fell. She counted four stairs before every sensation and thought vanished.

“You sure we should be doing this here?”

Y/N looked over from the edge of the bed at Jensen who was fixing his hair in the mirror. He was primped and picture perfect for a busy day at the convention. Tight black tee under a denim jacket, immaculately ripped jeans, and brown boots. Add to it all the longer hair and a beard- he looked a little too good.

He caught her eye in the mirror and smiled. “I do. I think this is the best place to do it.”

Y/N squirmed nervously and lifted her left leg onto her knee so she could retie her sneaker for the tenth time. Her engagement ring glimmered and she sighed happily at the diamond.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

And yet-

“What if they don’t like me? Or they get mad, or-”

Jensen spun around and dipped his chin, looking at her with a stern gaze. “Then I’ll kill them. All of them.”

His voice had dropped to a deep, rough growl and Y/N laughed.

“OK, Dean.”

Jensen exhaled loudly and straightened up, returning to himself. He closed the space between them with two long strides and fell to one knee. He took her hand, the same hand that he’d held two weeks ago when he’d asked her to marry him.

“I promise,” he said softly. “They’re gonna love you.”

Her cheeks warmed and her tension eased.

“How can you be sure?”

Green eyes beamed as he smiled.

“Because I love you.”

Pain woke her.

Stabbing, white-hot pain that spread through the entirety of her left side. Though she couldn’t tell where it manifested from, several points along her body had made contact with the concrete floor and spikes of pain radiated from each one.

Her cheek was smashed against the frozen floor and her nose ached. Gingerly, she rolled onto her back. The scarf over her eyes had shifted a bit and she could see a faint stream of light surrounded by creeping shadows.

The air was frigid and damp, and smelled like mold. She shivered as the cold seeped through her thin clothing and into her soul.

Fear wrapped itself around her lungs and squeezed. Her breathing quickened, her sore jaw trembled. She tasted blood, felt every bruise, every splinter of bone. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the last twelve hours.

Late evening. The convention center. Walking from the loading dock to the back parking lot. Low hanging ceiling; giant yellow lights. Cars jammed in every spot. A dirty white van. A shiny black Explorer. An old gold Camry.

The Camry.

Something heavy hitting her head. Her ears rang. The warmth of blood oozed across her scalp.

She could feel the trunk closing around her, the thin upholstery. The stink of gasoline wrinkled her nose.

Her chest burned. Her throat closed.

She screamed.

“Somebody help me! Help!”

She thrashed against the ground; ropes still would tight around her wrists and legs.

“Help!”

Turning her face back to the concrete, she wiggled her forehead against the stone, pushing the blindfold up and away from her eyes. She blinked into the darkness and let out a hopeless cry.

The basement wasn’t big, but it was old and dark. Light streamed down from the door at the top of the staircase but she’d rather not have any.

Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, spiders lurked in corners, ghosts swept like cold breath over her skin.

“Please…” Tears flowed freely, dripping down her cheeks and onto the floor. She let go, sobbing into the darkness, lost and terrified. “Help me…”

The stage was bigger than she thought it would be; the curtains heavier. She stood off to the side, hiding in the wings while Jensen awed the crowd.

He really was something magnificent. With a tiny smile, he could captivate a crowd. One well-timed wink could send them to their knees, have them swooning and begging for more.

Y/N watched happily as he answered questions and animatedly told a few stories about his work on The Boys. He had a million stories and she would never get tired of hearing them.

She could feel the hour waning and nerves crept up her spine. She steadied her breathing and twirled the platinum ring on her finger. It was too big, she thought, but it didn’t matter. It could be a lump of camel dung and she’d love it. He’d given it to her.

Finally, Jensen cleared his throat and threw a glance over his shoulder at her. It was time.

“I’m sure most of you have heard the rumors,” he said, microphone clutched in his left hand. “So, I thought we’d put them to rest right now.”

The audience’s anticipation was nearly tangible. Hopeful silence rang through the room.

“If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to introduce you to my fiance…”

Right arm extended, Jensen gestured to Y/N and she took a deep breath before stepping out into the bright lights.

Her hands were numb. The skin around her wrists was bloody and stinging. In a panic, she twisted her hands, chewed on the knots, screamed through her teeth.

The desperate cries rang off the leaky stone walls and bounced back at her. She was sure that no one outside would be able to hear her, even if they weren’t in the middle of nowhere.

She had no idea, really, where she was. She did know that they had driven for a long while, and most of the journey had been on uneven, unpaved roads. Surely, they were well outside of the city and anywhere there might be neighbors nearby to hear her pleas for help.

Giving up and afraid of breaking her teeth on the knot, she rolled onto her knees and carefully shuffled over to the stairs. The wooden banister was old and unfinished, just bare wood hammered into place. She rubbed the rope against the edge, hoping to fray the strands and break free.

“What are you gonna do once you get those ropes off?”

Y/N froze and looked around, searching the shadows for the source of the familiar voice.

“Hello?”

“You got a plan?”

“What?” She squinted into the shadows but there was nothing there. She was alone.

“I said, do you have a plan to get out of here?”

“Who’s there!”

A deep, kind laugh. “You know who it is, Y/N/N. What you don’t know is how to get out of here.”

Her heart raced. She did know who it was, but she wouldn’t admit it. If she was hearing his voice, she was going insane. Or she was concussed, which seemed more likely.

Can you go crazy from that?

“Depends on how hard they hit you, I guess,” he said.

Y/N grit her teeth and tried to ignore him. She went back to work furiously rubbing against the post.

“Keep going, you almost got it.”

She sighed. “Go away.”

Another laugh, softer, under his breath. “You don’t mean that. You need me.”

Y/N groaned and kept at her task. Tiny specks of dust and fibers danced in the faint light and she picked up speed, forcing it harder into the wood.

The rope snapped before she could steady herself and she fell forward, smashing her forehead into the corner of the post.

“Fuck!”

Dizzy, she tore the broken twine away and sat back on her ass. She kicked her legs out and untied the rope around her legs. Finally able to move, she jumped to her feet.

The sudden movement was too much for her head and she fell onto the steps, palms crushing into the damp wood.

“Be careful…”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the phantom voice and crawled on aching hands and knees up the steep stairs.

Once at the top, she held her breath and pressed her ear to the door, listening.

If anyone was near, they made no sound.

Carefully, she stood up and grabbed the knob. Praying for release, she turned the brass but it caught halfway around. She turned it again and again hoping something would change, but it was locked.

“Hello!” She beat against the door, kicked it hard. “Help me! Hello!” Fists pounded, her throat tore. “Let me out!”

Someone on the other side kicked at the door and it rattled in the frame.

“Shut the fuck up!” he bellowed, scaring her even more.

Y/N jerked back from the door and felt all hope drain away as boots thudded across the linoleum and the lights went out.

To her surprise, the audience cheered. Smiles beamed up at her from the front row, applause washed over her.

Timidly, and with Jensen’s encouragement, she stepped up to the microphone stand and smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

Her cheeks were burning, her eyes squinting in the stage lights. She raised a hand to shield her face from the glare and looked out into the room. Every seat was filled and fans stood along the back wall. It seemed everyone at the con was in that room, watching Jensen give his big announcement.

She tried to take the mic but her hand was shaking terribly. Jensen came to her aid and pulled it from the stand. He kissed her cheek.

“You’re gonna be great,” he whispered. “They already love you, just go with it.”

Already, people were queueing up on either side of the stage, ready to ask a question should the lines be opened again.

“How’s it going?” she asked, receiving a loud cheer in reply. “Yeah, me too.” She laughed and took a shy step back. Her heart was racing, her lips hurt from smiling.

Jensen watched her with bright, loving eyes. He placed his big hand on her lower back and gave a gentle push.

His touch calmed her instantly. She turned to look up at him and everything else faded away. She’d be fine, he was with her. Always.

“Well, show them,” he said into the mic.

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Go on…”

With dramatic, mock reluctance, she extended her left hand and showed off her new ring. It sparkled in the lights and the fans went wild.

She checked the door three more times. She twisted the knob until her palms were raw. She kicked at the wood until her legs ached.

In the darkness, she felt her way down the stairs and collapsed onto the floor. Her head was pounding and a sharp, unending ring blasted loud in her ears.

She lay on her right side, shivering and sweating at the same time. Her face was clammy and her eyes felt as if they were on fire.

“You have a fever,” he said. “That’s not good.”

Y/N turned towards the voice and gasped.

Leaning against the staircase railing was a ghost of her imagination, a handsome vision in a denim jacket and ripped jeans. Red flannel peeked out beneath the jacket and his pockets were full. His jaw was shaded with light stubble; his hair was short and fluffed upwards. His forehead was creased and he crossed his ankles and arms, staring down at her.

She shook her head but her vision wouldn’t clear. He was blurry but obviously there.

“Dean?”

He chuckled. “Who else?”

She sighed painfully and closed her eyes. “You’re not real.”

The apparition pushed off from the post and shrugged. “I’m more real than anything else you got right now. Who are you gonna talk to? That rat over there?”

She cringed. “What!”

He laughed outright and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re gonna have to toughen up real quick, Sweetheart, if you’re gonna get out of this.”

“There’s no way out of this.”

Dean crouched down, set his forearms on his knees, getting close to her. “There’s always a way out. You may not like it, but there’s always a way.”

Something caught in the back of her throat and she coughed hard. Violent pain erupted across her middle and she screamed, folding in on herself.

Dean’s worried hands floated over her body; his face contorted with helplessness.

“Hey. Hey! You’re OK. Just breathe.”

She coughed again and her limbs spasmed, twisting inwards.

“Hey! Y/N/N, come on.”

She imagined she could feel the heaviness of his hand on her shoulder.

“Shh… It’s a broken rib… or six. You’re gonna be OK.”

Her eyes were wide, her skin paled. “Can’t… breathe.”

“Hey, hang on… Stay with me!”

Another cough let loose a spray of crimson from her lips and Y/N’s eyes rolled back.

Dean’s voice echoed in her head and everything else faded away.

He kissed her on stage. In front of everyone. In front of a thousand cameras flashing and videos rolling. He kissed her hard, dipped her over his arm.

Y/N was embarrassed and thrilled and in love. It was hard to contain or sort through the emotions running through her, and when they walked off stage together, she started to cry.

Jensen spun around and bent down to reach her eye level.

“Baby, no… what’s wrong?”

She shook her head and tried to look away, but two giant hands framed her face and held her there.

“What’s going on?” he asked, green eyes flooded with worry. “Did I do something?”

She smiled and sniffled. “No. No, Jen, you didn’t. I’m just…” She took a shaky breath. “I’m so fucking happy.”

She took a shaky breath and lifted her head from the frozen concrete. The chill had entered her bones, chilling the marrow and numbing her digits. Her joints ached; the breaks in her body stung. She wiped at the dried blood on her mouth and tried to sit up.

It hurt too much to move.

“I’m thirsty,” she croaked. Her throat was raw and her voice crackled.

“You gotta get outta here.”

She growled. “Ya think? How?” She pushed up on one arm and glared his way.

Dean was standing in the dark next to the stairs. Hands shoved in his pockets; bottom lip tugged harshly between his teeth.

“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is!”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Or who they are!”

He pursed his lips, took a breath. “I know-”

“Or why the fuck I’m locked in a basement!”

Dean rolled his head on his shoulders, looking for answers on the ceiling. “That’s it.” He snapped his fingers and looked down at her.

“What’s it?”

“Why are you here?”

She rolled onto her ass and slowly tucked her knees to her chest. Every movement hurt, but it was better than freezing to death laid out like a ragdoll.

“I already said, I don’t know.”

He dropped his chin, narrowed his gaze. “Think.”

She shook her head. “I have no fucking idea.”

“They haven’t touched you,” he noted.

She scoffed. “Um… I don’t know if you recall that I’ve been bludgeoned and shoved into a trunk and beaten and-”

Dean held up his hand, surrendering and asking for patience. “I mean, they haven’t… touched touched you.”

“You mean like-”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“So they’re not gonna like… rape me or anything. That’s good.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He scratched his head. “So why are you here? What do they want from you?”

Y/N shrugged and winced at a new found pain. Her neck was stiff, her spine tingled.

“Think!”

She startled. “I don’t know!”

“Think. What’s missing?”

“I don’t-” Her head hurt. Her vision unfocused.

“Come on, kid. Think.”

“My… my ring.” She reached for the diamond, but her finger was bare. “My ring is gone.”

Dean hummed. “Yeah. But what’s still here?”

She took stock of herself, struggling to remember what she’d worn that morning and what was left.

“My necklace,” she answered, touching her clavicle. “My jewelry. They didn’t take anything else.”

Dean came closer as he led her thought process along. “So, they…”

She swallowed hard. “This isn’t a robbery or anything. They don’t want to rape me. They… It’s got something to do with you.” She looked up into green eyes and a hard expression. “I mean, with- with Jensen.”

TO BE CONTINUED... Part Two

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[queen-of-deans-booty]

Your Personal Bodyguard: Part Two

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: sexual tension is HIGH, trying to get jensen jealous

Summary: Since it's clear Jensen isn't going anywhere, you try to live your life as best as you can. You're invited to a frat party that you have to drag Jensen along, and you have the perfect plan to rile him up. If you can't get rid of him, then may as well fuck him.

read part one here: Your Personal Bodyguard

Square Filled: free space (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

All your past bodyguards always gave you some bit of wiggle room in fear you’d complain to your dad and get them fired. Granted, none of them looked and acted like Jensen. If they had, you’d have treated them very differently. Jensen is the kind of man not to take shit from anyone, so he always has a plan or a comeback for whatever you throw at him.

What happened at that party was a one-time thing. He never let you out of his sight, especially when your dad found out about it. You got yelled at and punished for two weeks, and in those two weeks, you and Jensen became the best of friends. Not literally. He annoyed you every which way to Sunday while you had to sit there and take it like a spoiled kid.

Now you’re back at school, and much like you predicted, Jensen is there to follow you everywhere. The first few classes were awkward since there was a grown man sitting in the back of the classroom, however, the teachers were all warned beforehand by your dad’s team that this was going to happen. By the third class, you ignored him the best you could but his breath was a constant on the back of your neck.

It’s lunchtime or the biggest break you have between classes. Jensen is following behind you like some creeper as you walk inside the big cafeteria. There are a bunch of options to choose from, most of which are big brand fast food places you’d see while driving in town. You stop walking and turn to Jensen with an annoyed look on your face.

“You know, if you insist on following me everywhere I go, then you can at least act like you know me instead of following me around like a fucking creeper.”

Jensen chuckles at this. He’s always loved your smart mouth. If he’s being honest, it’s been in one too many of his dreams. If he’s being truly honest, he’d like to fuck that attitude out of you. He’s not going to do that, not even if you were to beg… maybe.

“Not my rules, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” you glare and get in line at your favorite food place.

“Whatever you say… sweetheart.”

You resist an eyeroll at this. He’s proven that he’s not going anywhere no matter how much you try getting rid of him. You order your food and find a table in the corner, perfect for being alone. Except Jensen is here and he isn’t leaving. Jensen didn’t get anything to eat but you’re not going to sit here and eat while he stares at you. You grab one of the burgers you ordered for him and slide it over.

“Eat. Don’t be creepy.”

Jensen takes the burger without a word and starts eating. The entire place is filled with chatter among students but one couple stands out because the woman’s laugh is so distinctive. You look over to see her snuggled up to her man as they joke about anything and everything. The look on your face becomes a longing one, one that catches Jensen’s attention. He turns to see what you’re looking at and he shakes his head as he turns back around.

“Relationships are messy.”

You want one. You want a man to look at you like you’re his world. Like he’d do anything to keep you happy, satisfied, and honest. You want to be able to go to bed with someone and wake up next to them. To have late-night drives or stay up into the early hours of the morning just talking. You don’t get to have that. Not with your dad doing what he does.

“What do you know? You’re a bodyguard.”

“I wasn’t always one. I was a somebody before all of this. I had a fiance who died in a mugging. I was with her and she still died. I vowed to never let that happen to anyone else. Now I’m here. You’re not the first person I had to protect.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you sigh, feeling like an ass.

“It’s not your problem to worry about.” That’s enough light into Jensen’s past, so he changes topics. “What, does your dad not let you have boyfriends?”

“I’ve had a few but they never lasted a few months. They either find out who my dad is and what he does, get scared, and leave or they mistreat me once and my dad sics a bodyguard onto them. Love isn’t in the cards for someone like me, I guess.”

“It’ll happen. You have to be patient. You’re twenty. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head and finish your food. “My dad is preparing me to take over his business. Soon I’ll be deep in mafia business. I won’t have time for love anyway.”

After lunch, you have one more class before you get to go home. As you’re heading out to Jensen’s car, your best friend of eighteen years stops you. Jensen understands you two want privacy so he steps off to the side but is close enough to you just in case you need him.

“Is that your bodyguard?” Chelsea gasps.

“Don’t get attached. I’m still trying to get rid of him,” you sigh.

“When you do, send him my way.” You both chuckle at her obvious joke. “So, Tyler is having a party with his frat buddies. He’s invited me and I’m inviting you. You need to come.”

“If I go, he goes,” you point to Jensen who waves at her. “Do you really want him to be the only older guy at the party?”

“He’ll suck it up. You have to go. Who else will help me hook up with Ty?”

“Fine, I’ll go. It gives me an excuse to go shopping.”

“Yes. I’ll text you the details. I gotta go. I’ll see ya!”

She bounces away happily and Jensen makes his way over to you.

“I’m assuming you heard everything she said. You’re pretty good at eavesdropping, you know that?”

“You’re making me go to a party?”

“I’m twenty. I need to have these pivotal moments that will otherwise shape my character.”

“You’re going to a party with booze and sex. How is that shaping your character?”

“I’ll get better at taking down booze and better at receiving sex,” you smirk and walk off.

“Like hell you are,” he says in a deep voice and follows after you.

Whatever you want, you get (relatively speaking). If you tell your dad you’re going shopping for a party, he’ll tell you to bring Jensen and leave it at that. Jensen has no say whether you get to go to the mall or not. When you get to the mall, the first store you go to is one of the most expensive ones there. Your dad, being a mafia boss, has almost unlimited money. He has an account with millions in it just for you.

“Okay, if we’re both going to this party, we’re both going to need a new change of clothes. Don’t worry, I’ll be your sugar mama for today. We’re getting you party ready.”

“Don’t count on it,” he mumbles. There are a few dresses that catch your eye so you practically throw them in Jensen’s arms before moving on to the next. “You know, I’m a bodyguard, not a personal assistant.”

“My dad told you to be whatever I need, and right now, I need someone to carry all these clothes. Unless, of course, you don’t want to do this. In which you’re more than welcome to leave.”

“Nice try, sweetheart, you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

Once you have enough dresses, you head to the dressing room to try them on. After every fitting, you show off to Jensen who is being respectful and sitting outside the dressing room. The first two dresses didn’t compliment your body type, the third one didn’t go with your skin tone, and the fourth one was too small. The fifth dress is a bit more revealing than the others which is perfect.

It’s a black very deep V-neck dress that is backless. The only thing covering your breasts is the four-finger wide piece of fabric that meets each other at the base of the V. The bottom of the dress only goes to your mid-thigh, and the entire thing is sparkly. This is the perfect dress for a frat party. It fits perfectly, and it shows off the curve of your breasts leaving little to the imagination.

“Okay, this is the last one. What do you think?” you ask and walk out wearing it. The first thing Jensen does is mutter a quiet “fuck” before laughing to cover it up. “What’s so funny?”

“That you think you’re wearing that to the party.”

“Why not? Maybe you’re right. Maybe love is in the cards for me. Maybe I’ll get lucky there.”

“Not with me around you won’t.”

“Don’t be so sure,” you roll your eyes.

You head back into the dressing room but ten seconds later, Jensen barges in and pins you to the wall. His towering height is intimidating, especially if you’re already turned on.

“You can do so much better than some college boy who has no business putting his hands on you.”

“Whose gonna do it? You?” you chuckle.

You turn around to take it off whether he’s in here or not but Jensen isn’t done with you. He places a hand on the wall to your left, preventing you from going anywhere. Has his hands always looked so rough? The veins on his hand and arm are evident, and those are some of your weaknesses.

Jensen’s other hand ghosts over your back to the tie that holds the upper part of the dress on your body.

“If you were mine, I’d spend hours getting to know your body… to know what you like and what you don’t. Then, only when I have you begging for me, maybe I’ll give you that sweet relief you’re craving.”

A rush of butterflies fly down to your pussy. Damn, this man really knows how to get you going, but the last thing you’re gonna do is let him know that. You turn your head to look at him without turning your body and smirk.

“I don’t beg.”

Jensen chuckles as his right hand contracts into a fist. He’s resisting touching you right here and now. He leaves the dressing room quickly, leaving you confused and wanting. Fuck trying to get rid of him, you just want to fuck him. The best way to do that is to rile him up, and this dress clearly achieved that. Once you pick out the dress you want (while sneaking in the black sparkling dress), you get clothes for Jensen that are semi-appropriate for a frat party.

The party isn’t until the weekend but that doesn’t mean you can’t conduct your plan right away. For the rest of the week, you and Jensen kept playing the “Will He, Will She” game. You’d do something to rile Jensen up, he’d say something that gets you wet, and then he’d leave you wanting more. Then the cycle starts up again.

By the time the party came, it’s not a question of will Jensen fuck you, it’s a question of when and where. You’re wearing the short black dress underneath a long coat so that Jensen can’t see what it is. Luckily he hasn’t asked to see your outfit so that when he pulls up to he party, you can get his raw reaction to it.

Chelsea is waiting for you at the front door, and she waves you down when she sees you.

“I’m glad you could make it!” She looks at your long coat and gives you a weird look. “What are you wearing.”

“Just give it a second,” you whisper as you walk up the steps.

The door opens and Tyler’s best friend, Jason is standing there with a smile.

“Welcome in ladies… man…?”

“Don’t worry, he’s cool,” you quickly say. “Do you have a place where I can put my coat?”

“Oh, I’ll take it.”

You turn to face Jensen and stare into his eyes as you take off your coat. His eyes rake down your body in the revealing black dress he specifically told you not to wear. His fists clench at his sides to prevent him from making a scene. Chelsea chuckles to the right of you now understanding why you were wearing that coat. You turn to Jason with a smile and hand over your coat.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Drinks in the kitchen. Have fun.”

“You’re pushing it,” Jensen whispers to you as you enter the house.

“Pushing what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say innocently.

“Hey, if you see Tyler, let me know. Tonight might be the night,” Chelsea grins.

“You got it. Keep your phone on you.”

You two break off with her going to search out her crush while you and Jensen go to the kitchen. There are a lot fewer people in there since it’s small but it’s still crowded. There are shots lined up on the table so you take two and down them both. Jensen places his hands on the kitchen island and catches your eyes.

“Slow down.” While maintaining eye contact, you grab another shot and down it. Jensen’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes because he’s not amused. You’re very immature and he’d love nothing more than to put you in your place. “Keep it up, sweetheart.”

“Loosen up, Jensen. Dance!”

You wiggle your ass as you make your way to the dance floor. Jensen needs to be laser-focused on you to prevent what happened at the other party. There are a lot of people who would love nothing more than to kidnap the daughter of a mafia boss, especially if they think she’s inebriated.

You sway your hips along to whatever song is playing. You’re putting a show on for Jensen knowing he is standing in the corner just watching you. After the third song, you’re about to go get another drink when you feel hands on low on your waist. You look up to see one of the frat boys enjoying his time with you.

This is perfect. This is how you’re gonna get Jensen to break. You look over at Jensen to see his eyes narrowed on you and this other man. You push your ass back into the man’s cock and grind to give him a little something-something. The man grabs your thighs and moves his hands up and under your dress.

That’s what makes Jensen bounce into action. He pushes back the crowd of students and grips the man’s shoulder tightly.

“Beat it, kid. She’s taken.”

Jensen is already pulling you away without hearing the man’s response.

“Taken, huh?” you giggle.

Jensen takes you to an isolated part of the house where there isn’t anyone around, and he pins you to the wall angrily. His right hand wraps around your throat, not tightly but just enough to remind you it’s there, and his left hand slams against the wall next to you.

“Is this a game to you?”

“I’m just having a good time.”

“I can show you a better time than he can.” He removes his left hand from the wall and slides it between your thighs right where you want him. You’re wearing thin panties so he can feel how wet you are even through the fabric. He rubs your panties with a smirk not missing the way you gasp quietly. “You’re so wet and I haven’t even touched you. Is this all for me?”

“No, it’s for him,” you smirk defiantly.

Jensen chuckles darkly, sending another wave of pleasure straight to your core.

“Be careful, little dove. You don’t want me fucking this attitude out of you because I won’t be gentle.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

Jensen pulls away from you completely, making you want more from him.

“Oh no, sweetheart, good girls get fucked. Bad girls get punished. I’m not going to touch you, not until you beg me to.” You open your mouth to respond but he’s quicker. “Yeah, I know, you don’t beg. You will when I’m done with you. Come on, we’re leaving the party.”

He walks away without another word, and you open your mouth in shock. He’s definitely not like the other boys you’ve dated. He’s a man and he’s not afraid to show it to you. Maybe getting rid of him isn’t the best idea.

You might have met your match.

x

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[thelibrarylesstrektraveled]

Nightingale Chapter Seventeen - All Around the Cobbler's Bench

Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Seventeen: All Around the Cobbler's Bench

Word Count: 5279

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing! Author's Additional Notes: This is it. The last chapter. The Conclusion to my story! (There will be an epilogue to follow) I started this over a year and a half ago, and here we are, finished!! There were plenty of times I wondered if I'd ever get there. But with the steadfast encouragement of all of you, I found the inspiration and the drive. Thank all of you who read this and showered me with love. I am forever grateful!

Masterlist

Nightingale Masterlist

     Jensen checked his watch again while he tapped his fingers against his leg trying to rid himself of the anxious energy.  You’d been in the restroom for fifteen minutes and while women tended to take longer in the bathroom, it was unusual for you.  Other girls had come and gone in that time, and he was beginning to worry.  Deciding to hell with it, he knocked loudly to announce himself and entered.

     “Y/N?  Sweetheart?  The play is starting…”

     The room was empty and something about the eerie silence sent an ominous chill down his spine.  Not a trace of you anywhere, as if you’d evaporated into thin air!  Desperate, he pushed open the stall doors and last one revealed a woman crumpled against the wall.  He recognized the scuffed sneakers as your favorites and the denim jacket with the frayed sleeves.  And the fall of golden hair.

     Frantic, he dropped to his knees, “Y/N!  Baby?!” 

     He grabbed hold of your shoulder and pulled.  Your head rolled back and revealed a deeply slit throat and a stranger’s face.

     Dead.  He could tell it at a glance, but it wasn’t you!  The poor soul had been dressed in your clothes and a very convincing blonde wig. 

     “Shit!”  Jensen scrambled to his feet and burst out of the room.  He frantically searched the crowd of people while dialing his emergency number.

      “Solomon.”

      “She’s gone!  She’s gone, you son of a bitch!  You said she was safe!”

     “We show Y/N in the ladies’ room on the east end of the pavilion.” 

      “Her clothes are there along with a fucking dead body!  He’s got her!  Fuck!”

      “Stay where you are,” the agent barked through the phone while people shuffled in the background. 

      He took off at a jog, trying to scan the faces for yours, “Like hell I will!”

      “That’s an order, Ackles!  I need details, not another missing person.  I have agents converging on your location.”

      Jensen ended the call and tried your number.  It rang several times then went to voicemail.  “Sweetheart, if you get this, just hang on.  I’m coming.  I swear to God… I’m coming to get you.”

       Consciousness came to you in fragments.  Different parts of your body were numb.  There was a pins and needles feeling that came with having been in one position for too long.  Your eyes felt dry and raw, although you hadn’t opened them yet.  Your throat felt the same and there was a really unpleasant smell coming from somewhere.  An artificial and over-powering cherry scent mixed with sour sweat.  Suddenly, your whole frame was jolted, and the side of your head connected with something cold and hard.  It was enough to pull you out of the semi-conscious daze you’d been in, your eyes popped open as your head bounced off the passenger side window. 

     You sat more upright with a groan and rubbed your head, “What…?”

     This wasn’t Jensen’s car.  The dashboard was faded blue and cracked from the sun.  An ancient radio with silver knobs played an old song from the sixties.  The cardboard cherry air freshener swinging from the rearview was at least partly to blame for the oppressive stench.  The man in the driver’s seat was to blame for the rest.

     “Pharmaceuticals have come such a long way, haven’t they?  That little trip was courtesy of a new and very effective benzodiazepine.  Administered through absorption through the skin.  Remarkable.  It’s hung up in clinical trials, but those of us with connections can still have our fun.”

     Your gaze slid to the man behind the wheel and your stomach knotted.  Now that he had his glasses on and his hair was brushed back from his face, he looked much like he did back in New York.  Large, hawk-like nose.  Sharp cheekbones, eyebrows like dark slashes over nearly black eyes. 

     “Of course, the best part is that although you looked like a drunk sorority girl, you were still wide awake inside,” his lips pulled into a disturbing grin.  “Hate for you to miss out.”

     He was right.  You’d been awake while he and that girl stripped you naked and dressed you in her clothes.  You’d been useless to fight them as they pulled a wig down on your head.  You were trapped in your own body, only able to witness the horror has he killed her right in front of you.  In your mind, you screamed while he seamlessly ushered you past Jensen and into the crowd.  Right under the noses of the undercover agents who were meant to protect you. 

     You forced your mind to focus.  Agent Solomon had gone over countless scenarios with you, and this was one of them.  You quickly took inventory and noted that every scrap of clothing had been removed or replaced.  Your tracking monitor, your cell phone, your pepper spray and pocketknife.  Anything that might have been useful was long gone. 

     Except the blue paisley tie Jensen wrapped around your wrist.  You could still feel the cool silk against your skin.  Your tether to him and a reminder that you still had access to one thing that might help you.  The fourth wall.  The stage was set, and this was just another part to play.  If you gave a convincing enough performance, you might just come out of this alive.

     “Where are you taking me?” you asked as you pulled the frayed seatbelt over your shoulder and secured it.

     “Tsk, Tsk!  Telling would ruin the surprise, and you know how much I love a good surprise.”

     You scanned the scenery whizzing past and found it unfamiliar.  A two-lane road cut through thick woodland as the sun began to set.  No signs other than the occasional mile marker and warnings about rockslides.  Your ears popped, confirming you were headed to higher elevation and farther away from civilization.

      Show time.

     “Why haven’t you killed me?”  You ripped the auburn-colored wig from your head and tossed it to the floor. 

     “Do you want me to?” he returned, patting the handgun in his lap.

     Panic tried to rise like bile in your throat.  You pushed it down and snatched the half full pack of cigarettes from the dash. 

     “What I want is to wake up safe at home with a beer and left-over pizza in the fridge, but we don’t always get what we want.”

     “Beer and pizza,” Arthur repeated with a scoff.  “Sophistication never was your strong suit, Y/N.  One of Colin’s many grievances about you.”

     “What I lacked in sophistication, I made up for in eagerness.”  You lit a cigarette and took a long drag, “I certainly never heard any complaints about that.”

     “Slut.  Useless whore.  No wonder you shacked up with a Hollywood scumbag like Ackles.  You probably fuck him for a weekly allowance.”  His fingers tightened around the wheel as he spoke, “Colin deserved so much better than you.”

     “Someone like you, I suppose.”  You barked out a laugh as Green turned red from the neck up, “Jesus, you’re not still carrying a torch for a dead man, are you?  That’s pathetic, Artie.  It really is.  You know he just kept you around out of pity.  Poor little Artie from the block…”

     He backhanded you right across the mouth.  Your lip split and you tasted blood.

     “Shut up!  Just shut your whore mouth!”  He grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the window, making you groan and slump in your seat.  Your vison went hazy, but you kept conscious.

     “You conniving bitch… you had to go to the feds!  If it wasn’t for that I’d have killed you quick and been done with it.  One last loose end… but not now.  Now, I get creative.  I’ll start with your little boy toy; carve his pretty face up so not even his own mother will recognize him.  Your bestie with those cute kids?  I’ll strangle her to death while they watch.”

     You didn’t say anything, waiting him out as he raged on, “Oh!  But what about your baby sister?  Frankie.  Well, let’s just say she’ll wish she’d died in that car wreck by the time I get through with her.”

     With Arthur’s rage distracting him, you saw your opening and you took it.  The cigarette was still clenched in your fist.  Your hand shot out and you crushed the glowing cherry into his face.  It sizzled and he screamed.

     He howled in pain, and you grabbed the wheel, yanking it with all your might!  The two of you fought for control and sent the truck into a spin.  The back end fishtailed, and the tires squealed.  The world went topsy turvy around you as the truck went careening off the road with a deafening crash.  Then, silence.

     “Black SUV, headed east on Market.  That’s the last we see of it until it popped up abandoned in the Whole Foods parking lot.”

     “We got the video from them?”

     “Nada.  Their surveillance system went down last week.”

     “Safe bet that was our perp.  Get the last recordings they have in the database, let’s see if Green shows his face.”

      “SUV registered to Mrs. Barbara Perkins, deceased.”

     “Naturally.  Get a trace on that name, address, bank accounts, the works.”

      Jensen had never felt more useless in his life.  While the FBI agents bustled around their make-shift headquarters, he was sitting in an office chair.  Waiting.  There was literally nothing else he could do.  They already knew what Green looked like, even disguised as a fangirl.  The pics of Jensen signing autographs went live on social media almost instantaneously.  There were all sorts of video surveillance of him walking around the park and walking a stumbling girl through the parking lot.  It was as if he was showing off.  Flaunting his deeds to the authorities who were oblivious to it all.

      Jensen felt sick at the thought of how close you were.  Green had walked you right by him and he didn’t even know it!  His mind kept going to the dead woman wearing your clothes.  Blood everywhere.  Running like a river from her slit throat.  It could have so easily been you.  It still could, and that thought chilled him to the bone.

     The video was good for one thing though, it confirmed that you had been very much alive when you left with him.  Jensen was holding on to that fact like a lifeline!  You were smart and you were a fighter.  You’d come back, you had to.  He had a whole life planned out and every day of it included you.  Marriage.  Children.  Big family Christmases.  Quiet date nights.  He even planned a proposal in Paris.  You told him you always wanted to go and making your dreams come true had become an obsession for him.  Nothing made him happy like making you happy.  His life wasn’t his own, it was forever intertwined with yours. 

      In the immortal words of his alter-ego, “There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.”

      When his phone rang, his heart nearly stopped.  He didn’t recognize the number, but knew it was you.  “Y/N?!”

     “Jensen!  Oh God…!”

      Agent Solomon was on him instantly to hand the phone over, he refused.  But he did put it on speaker.  “Sweetheart, where are you?  Are you okay?!”

     The connection was tenuous, making your voice fade in and out. 

     “I’m okay… not… don’t know…. Arthur crashed…”

     “Crashed?!  What happened?”

      Solomon grabbed the phone, “Doctor West, are you with Green right now?”

     “No.  We crashed…. Left…”

     “Was he alive when you saw him last?”

     “…. Unconscious… don’t…. “

      “What kind of vehicle was he driving?”

     “Blue pickup… Dairyland.”

      “Dairyland?”  Jensen repeated. 

     “AJ… 677.”

      “Wisconsin plates,” Solomon signaled to his agents to run a search.  Even fragmented information would pull up something.

     “Doctor West, do you know where you are?”

     “Highway.  I don’t… mountains.  Jay!  Its… otter… Kimmy…”

     The agent locked eyes with Jensen, “What is she talking about?”

     “I don’t know,” he shook his head.  “Kimmy who?”

     “Kim… makeup… otter tattoo.”

     It clicked for him then.  The makeup artist who designed her own tattoos, Kimmy.  She’d been quite taken with Y/N when she went to the set that day.

      “It’s Mount Harvey, the snow melt on the south face looks like an otter playing baseball.”

      “Good.  Doctor West, we’re coming to you.”

      If she heard, she didn’t reply.  The phone screen showed the call dropped.  Solomon handed the phone to one of his team to pull trace information while he barked orders.  The well-oiled team shifted into their roles.  Dispatch communicated with local authorities on every level.  One of the advantages of working with the FBI, they were practiced in the art of the manhunt.  It wasn’t a question of if they would get Green, but when.  And would it be in time?

     “Ackles, you’re with me.”

     Jensen looked up in time to catch a bulletproof vest with FBI printed across the chest. 

     “I don’t have civilians on my tactical team as a rule,” Solomon informed him, zipping up his own vest.  “But you know Y/N better than anyone, I need your insight.  Let’s move.”

     You weren’t sure how far you’d gotten or how long you’d been walking.  It seemed like forever.  That ancient truck Arthur had been driving actually turned out to be a blessing.  The frame was good, old fashioned American steel and took the brunt of the crash without much damage.  The seatbelt did its job and prevented you from being thrown through the windshield.  Although, it dug into you with enough force that you likely had a broken clavicle and possibly a dislocated shoulder.  It throbbed like a son of a bitch, but you still made out better than Green. 

     He was going over sixty miles per hour when he crashed, and he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.  He was slumped over the steering wheel, bleeding from a deep gash on his scalp and covered in broken glass from the shattered windshield.  The doctor in you wanted to check for a pulse, but your visual assessment would have to do.  He was breathing, and that was enough.  You knew time wasn’t on your side, you needed to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. 

      You made a quick search of his pockets and found both a phone and a handgun.  The passenger side door was bashed in, making it impossible to escape through the door or the window.  With a quick glance to confirm your kidnapper was still unconscious, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and climbed over the dash and through the shattered windshield.  You ignored the pain of the broken glass tearing into your hands and legs. 

     You had to get out and make a run for it, it was your only chance!

     The charge on the cell was dwindling as it searched for a signal, but the fates were with you, and it connected.  The sound of Jensen’s voice nearly broke you.  You held yourself together enough to get as much information out as you could before the call dropped. 

     “No, no damn it!”  Your fingers shook as you tried to call again, only to be me with no service.  You looked around at the dense trees lining the two-lane highway and the rapidly setting sun.  Tears blurred your vision and the weight of your situation hit you in force.

     There was nowhere to go for help, you didn’t even know where you were!  The adrenaline in your system was fading and you could feel the effects of shock setting in.  Injured in a car wreck coupled with who knows what the side effects of that drug Arthur shot you up with.   You well and truly screwed.

     You bent at the waist; your hands braced on your knees as you fought the rising panic.  The blue patterned silk tied to your wrist peeked out from under your shirt cuff. 

     “Breathe, Y/N.”

     “I can’t.”

     “I’m right here, Sweetheart.  I’m with you.”

     “He’s going to kill me!”

     “You can do this, come on.  Deep breath.  In and out.”

     You closed your eyes and rubbed the silk between your finger and thumb.  Like magic, you saw the closet.  Warm and filled with color-coded clothes.  The scent of cedar and vanilla cologne and Jensen smiling. 

     “You’ve got this, Y/N.  Keep moving, keep fighting!  I’m coming for you.”

     The actor’s trick worked.  Your mind cleared and you focused.  Obviously, continuing on foot was only a decent option when you knew where you were going.  You didn’t.  Which meant it was a drain on your energy reserves.  Plus, it would make rescuing you that much more difficult for the people looking for you. 

     You eyed the woods.  It was risky, with nightfall fast approaching, you would have wildlife to contend with and falling temps, but then… so would Green.  If he came to, he’d be looking for you.  Best to make that as difficult as possible. 

     “Stronger together,” you muttered the motto that became a mantra.  Even though he wasn’t holding your hand, Jensen was still with you.  You could still count on him, to remind you what was worth fighting for. 

     With the gun heavy in your hand, you climbed down the embankment and disappeared into the forest.

     “R.C.M.P. clocked a vehicle matching Green’s heading north on 99.  Last spotted an hour ago just passing Lion’s Bay.”

     “Any confirmation on passengers?”

     “Two.  A male and a female.”

     “Given the timeframe of the crash, they couldn’t have gotten much farther than that.”

     “Any hits on the cell?”

     “No, sir.”

     “Keep trying.  If she’s on the move, we might get lucky.”

     Jensen kept quiet as he sat in the back of the SUV.  The flurry of clipped commands yielded no new information.  They were racing towards you, but there was no way to know if they would make it in time.  Jensen tugged at the tie on his wrist while his mind worked over-time.  Were you hurt?  Scared?  Running or hiding?  Were you alive? 

     God please, let her be alive!

     As if on cue, his cell phone rang.  Only once, before the call dropped, but it was your number.  And it was enough.

     “Got it!  Moving slow, heading north by northeast towards Tunnel Bluffs.”

     “We’ve got local law in the area about ten minutes out.”

     “All units converge on new coordinates, be advised our witness is currently on foot.”

     “The assailant is considered armed and dangerous, use of full and deadly force authorized for all personnel.”

     The trees on Mount Harvey were thick and grew to impressive proportions.  Massive, monolithic firs and pines that held the record for some of the biggest on Earth.  Tangles of undergrowth and roots covered every inch of the forest floor, you lost your footing more than once.  Every fall slowed you down and added to your injuries.  The sun dropped to just below the horizon and the temperature went with it.

     You leaned heavily against one of the pines to catch your breath.  Your physical reserves were nearly gone, and you knew it.  There was just enough daylight left to make out a tree a few feet away.  It had an unusual split in its trunk.  Limping and cradling your arm to ease the pressure on your shoulder, you poked around in the gap.  Mostly filled with decomposing leaves, but big enough to shelter you for the night. 

     You squeezed your body through the opening and bit back a grunt as the bark scraped your injuries.  It wasn’t comfortable, which was for the best.  Your exhausted body was already vying for sleep, anything to counter that was welcome.  The opening wasn’t wide enough to see much, but it was still a defensible position.

     Your frozen fingers flexed around the gun as your eyes worked to adjust to the darkness falling.  The weight of it in your hand was unfamiliar and uncomfortable.  You were a doctor, you saved lives you didn’t take them.  Your thumb clicked off the safety as you committed to the only course of action that would leave you alive.  It would be a long night and you were damn well going to survive it. 

     “All around the cobbler’s bench, the monkey chased the weasel.”

     Your eyes popped open.  When had you shut them?  The phone in your pocket died long ago, so it was impossible to tell how long you’d been in hiding.  The woods were still.  There was no wind or sounds of scuttling wildlife.  But a child’s song, so faint you thought you’d imagined it. 

     “The monkey thought was all in fun.”

     “A penny for a spool of thread, a penny for a needle.”

     “That’s the way the money goes.”

      “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”

     There it was again.  Singing.  You were sure you hadn’t imagined it, it had to be Arthur.  God!  It seemed like you were making a racket!  Your breathing, your heartbeat, your eyelashes blinking rapidly as you desperately scanned the inky shadows.  Why did sound amplify in the cold and the dark?  It all seemed to be announcing your location to the man who was coming to murder you. 

     “Up and down the London road.”

     “In and out of the Eagle.”

     “That’s the way the money goes.”

     “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”

     He was playing with you.  The monkey and the weasel.  Cat and mouse.  You should have kept running!  Should have kept to the road, someone would have seen you.  You would have stood a chance!  Now you were in a trap of your own making.

     “I’ve no time to plead and pine.”

     “I’ve no time to wheedle.”

     “Kiss me quick and then I’m gone.”

     “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”

     The echo of the woods distorted Arthur’s voice so that you had no clue where he was coming from.  Running now would do you no good.  It was too late.  The son of a bitch was closing in on you now.  Would they even be able to find your body?  Would Jensen ever know what became of you?  You should have ran the minute you remembered your name. 

     “All around the cobbler’s bench.”

     “Arthur chased the doctor.”

     “The doctor thought was all in fun…”

     God, please keep him safe from the psychopath.  And Frankie!  Make sure they know I love them!  No matter what happens to me… I love you!

     “Pop!”

     Arthur.  Blood, dirt, and broken glass.  A twisted grin split his grotesque face. 

     Time stopped; a shot rang out.  Then, nothing.

     Jensen stood with the small, second group of agents investigating the crashed truck.  Two sets of footprints disappeared into the woods and the first round of FBI had already spread out into the wilderness to join the Mounties and broaden the search.

     The report of a gunshot echoed all the way back to the road.

     His blood ran cold.  “Y/N.”

     A hand went to Jensen’s Kevlar covered chest before he could move.  Bruce, the iron faced agent assigned to the actor, held him in place.

     "Let me go!"

     "Not a chance."

     "That was a fucking gunshot!"

     "Yeah, it was.  You take off now, the next one might have your name on it."

     “I don’t care!”

     "Right now, every resource we have is focused on Y/N.  You go out there and those resources get split, cutting her chance at survival in half.”

     Jensen turned away, running his hands through his hair.  “Fuck!”

     "We've all got a job to do.  Yours is communication,” Bruce put a steady hand on Jensen’s shoulder.  “You want to help your girl?   Stay put.  Be here and be ready to answer when she calls."

     Knowing Bruce was right didn't make the next hour of waiting any easier.  It was agony.  There was no word.  Not a sound from anyone.  Radio silence, Agent Bruce called it.  He seemed to think it was a positive sign, but it was driving Jensen insane.  Each minute that passed brought a horrible new thought.  A potential nightmare that could play out right in front of him.  And he was powerless to prevent it.

     He was past the end of his rope when an ambulance came into view and sped past them.  Traveling at breakneck speed up the mountain. Flashing lights bouncing off the trees and rock face. 

     Bruce held a finger to the tiny Speaker in his ear.  A grim look passed his features.

     "Let's move."

     He said nothing more.  No word on if you were alive or dead.  No hint at who that ambulance was for.  An hour ago, Jensen would have sworn he'd reached his capacity for worry and stress.  But that was nothing compared to the five minutes it took to reach the clearing.  There was a mass of people milling around.  F.B.I. he recognized and a few others outfitted in uniforms for the R.C.M.P.  That ambulance was parked off to the side, the back door was closed but the lights were still flashing.  Several other official looking vehicles showed up, including one for the coroner’s office. 

     Jensen was out of the car before Bruce even put it in park.  He caught the slender build of Frank Solomon, casually talking to a couple of other agents by the rail guard.  The son of a bitch was acting like he’d completed a milk run!  Jensen’s nostrils flared with rage as he made a direct path for him.

     The young man looked up, seemingly unphased by the Texan’s aggressive approach.

     "Ackles.”

     "Where is she?!"

     Solomon’s mouth opened, but it wasn’t his voice that was heard.  A shrill, terrified scream came from inside the ambulance, cutting through the night.

      "Jensen!"

     He'd spent fifteen years stepping into the boots of Dean Winchester.  Fighting monsters.  Some you could see, some you couldn't.  But no matter how close he was to the hero he portrayed; it was still an act.  Though there were plenty of times he’d wished it were real.  Wished he were more like the enigmatic man in the ’67 Chevy.  The man who always knew what to do.  The man who always saved the day.

     And yes, he would let his ‘Dean’ show from time to time.  That was a blurred line that proved useful more than once.  But in that moment when you screamed for him, there was no line.  There was no Dean, there was clarity. 

     Solomon got exactly one word out, “Wait…”  

     Jensen pulled back his fist and punched him square in the face, knocking him on his ass.

     He ran to that ambulance.  On a mission and with one purpose, he tore the door open.  

     You were sitting on a gurney, struggling against the medic who was trying to keep you from bolting.  Bruised and bloody.  But breathing!  The second you saw him, you went still, your bottom lip quivered.

     “Jensen.”

     The medic proved smarter than the F.B.I. agents and moved out of the way, allowing Jensen the room to take you in his arms.  That was when you broke completely.  Sobbing and desperately clinging to him like a child.  You weren’t sure how you got there.  One minute you were in that tree being stalked by a killer, the next you were being bundled into an ambulance.  It was so surreal!  It wasn’t until you heard Jensen on the other side of the door that you snapped.  Reality crashed over you, and you couldn’t breathe. 

     Jensen tried to will his own panic away.  You were alive.  He had you.  Bloody and trembling, but in his arms.  He could hear himself telling you soothing things.  Comforting words that he would never be able to recall later.  He was sure you couldn’t understand him anyway, you were crying so hard that your whole body shook. 

     But his voice was a balm, the timbre of it washed over you.  After a time, the raw shock wore through to numbness.  You drew a shuddering breath and tried to speak. 

     “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice coming from just over your head.  “I’m right here.”

     You released your death grip on Jensen’s jacket and snuck a look at your hands.  There were burn marks there from the gun powder.  Across the clearing, two men were maneuvering a stretcher over the gravel.  A black body bag was strapped to the top.

     “I killed him.”

     Jensen gently brushed the tangled hair away from your face.  His gaze followed yours to the body being taken away.  It could have so easily been you.  He rubbed his hand down your back and tucked your head under his chin.

     “Don’t look, baby.  Don’t think about it.  Never again.”

     The EMT reappeared, insisting that you go to the hospital.  He listed a number of injuries that needed attention.  Including another fucking concussion.

     You managed a weak laugh, “Look at us, right back where we started.”

     “At least you didn’t drown this time, your average is improving,” Jensen said, kissing your forehead.

     With practiced efficiency, the medic had you secured and ready for transport.  Just as the door was about to shut, Frank Solomon appeared.  His jaw was discolored and starting to swell where Jensen landed his punch. 

     Jensen smirked, “Back for round two?”

     “The ambulance is already at capacity, let’s not chance it.”  Solomon’s dark eyes shifted to you.  The arrogance drained away, and he seemed softer.  Almost repentant. 

      “Doctor West, I wanted to let you know that the death of Arthur Green officially closes this case.  You are no longer under any obligation to the F.B.I. for any purpose and you are free to resume your life.”

     “You won’t need me to make a statement?”

     “We have everything we need.  And I have to say, without your cooperation and your bravery, we never would have gotten Green let alone shut down the drug ring.  This victory is yours.”

     “I shot a man.  Deserved or not, that doesn’t feel particularly victorious.”

     Solomon blinked slowly, “You didn’t shoot Arthur Green.”

     “What?”

     “Barely clipped his shoulder, but I hardly call that a shot,” the agent shrugged, his casual manner back in place.  “One of the Mounted Police got him… Roberts, I think.  One clean shot to the head.  Green was dead before he hit the ground.”

     You could have lived with the death on your conscience, knowing it had been self-defense.  But the fact that you didn’t have to, freed you.  Well and truly.  Lightness settled in where guilt had been only a moment ago.  Words failed you.  An astonished gasp left your lips, and you let you head rest against Jensen’s shoulder.

     “Goodbye, Doctor West.  Mr. Ackles.”  Solomon shut the door and thumped it twice. 

     The ambulance slowly rolled away to begin its descent down the mountain.  Jensen’s hand found yours under the emergency blanket tucked over your lap.

     “It’s over.”

     “Yeah, it’s all over, Sweetheart” he murmured, kissing your temple.

     You and Jensen would talk about the incredible circumstances of how you got together often over the years.  You would muse on the workings of fate and God’s grand plan.  You would wonder at the impossibility of it all. 

     Surely, there must have been an easier way for two lost souls to meet.

     But then, meeting wouldn’t have been enough.  The two of you were drowning; separately but equally.  The miserable details of your own lives were pulling you under like a riptide.  It was so all-consuming that you couldn’t break free.  You weren’t strong enough, not alone. 

     It was like Jensen said that day in your old apartment, make a different choice.  The two of you chose to save each other.  But you also chose to let yourself to be saved.  It wasn’t passive and it wasn’t by chance.  It was a decision.  Perhaps not always an easy one, but it had power. 

     Love does conquer all, but only if you choose it.  TagList @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseubyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @deanwwinchester

[trektraveler]

Nightingale Chapter Seventeen - All Around the Cobbler's Bench

Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Seventeen: All Around the Cobbler's Bench

Word Count: 5279

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing! Author's Additional Notes: This is it. The last chapter. The Conclusion to my story! (There will be an epilogue to follow) I started this over a year and a half ago, and here we are, finished!! There were plenty of times I wondered if I'd ever get there. But with the steadfast encouragement of all of you, I found the inspiration and the drive. Thank all of you who read this and showered me with love. I am forever grateful!

Series Masterlist

     Jensen checked his watch again while he tapped his fingers against his leg trying to rid himself of the anxious energy.  You’d been in the restroom for fifteen minutes and while women tended to take longer in the bathroom, it was unusual for you.  Other girls had come and gone in that time, and he was beginning to worry.  Deciding to hell with it, he knocked loudly to announce himself and entered.

     “Y/N?  Sweetheart?  The play is starting…”

     The room was empty and something about the eerie silence sent an ominous chill down his spine.  Not a trace of you anywhere, as if you’d evaporated into thin air!  Desperate, he pushed open the stall doors and last one revealed a woman crumpled against the wall.  He recognized the scuffed sneakers as your favorites and the denim jacket with the frayed sleeves.  And the fall of golden hair.

     Frantic, he dropped to his knees, “Y/N!  Baby?!” 

     He grabbed hold of your shoulder and pulled.  Your head rolled back and revealed a deeply slit throat and a stranger’s face.

     Dead.  He could tell it at a glance, but it wasn’t you!  The poor soul had been dressed in your clothes and a very convincing blonde wig. 

     “Shit!”  Jensen scrambled to his feet and burst out of the room.  He frantically searched the crowd of people while dialing his emergency number.

      “Solomon.”

      “She’s gone!  She’s gone, you son of a bitch!  You said she was safe!”

     “We show Y/N in the ladies’ room on the east end of the pavilion.” 

      “Her clothes are there along with a fucking dead body!  He’s got her!  Fuck!”

      “Stay where you are,” the agent barked through the phone while people shuffled in the background. 

      He took off at a jog, trying to scan the faces for yours, “Like hell I will!”

      “That’s an order, Ackles!  I need details, not another missing person.  I have agents converging on your location.”

      Jensen ended the call and tried your number.  It rang several times then went to voicemail.  “Sweetheart, if you get this, just hang on.  I’m coming.  I swear to God… I’m coming to get you.”

       Consciousness came to you in fragments.  Different parts of your body were numb.  There was a pins and needles feeling that came with having been in one position for too long.  Your eyes felt dry and raw, although you hadn’t opened them yet.  Your throat felt the same and there was a really unpleasant smell coming from somewhere.  An artificial and over-powering cherry scent mixed with sour sweat.  Suddenly, your whole frame was jolted, and the side of your head connected with something cold and hard.  It was enough to pull you out of the semi-conscious daze you’d been in, your eyes popped open as your head bounced off the passenger side window. 

     You sat more upright with a groan and rubbed your head, “What…?”

     This wasn’t Jensen’s car.  The dashboard was faded blue and cracked from the sun.  An ancient radio with silver knobs played an old song from the sixties.  The cardboard cherry air freshener swinging from the rearview was at least partly to blame for the oppressive stench.  The man in the driver’s seat was to blame for the rest.

     “Pharmaceuticals have come such a long way, haven’t they?  That little trip was courtesy of a new and very effective benzodiazepine.  Administered through absorption through the skin.  Remarkable.  It’s hung up in clinical trials, but those of us with connections can still have our fun.”

     Your gaze slid to the man behind the wheel and your stomach knotted.  Now that he had his glasses on and his hair was brushed back from his face, he looked much like he did back in New York.  Large, hawk-like nose.  Sharp cheekbones, eyebrows like dark slashes over nearly black eyes. 

     “Of course, the best part is that although you looked like a drunk sorority girl, you were still wide awake inside,” his lips pulled into a disturbing grin.  “Hate for you to miss out.”

     He was right.  You’d been awake while he and that girl stripped you naked and dressed you in her clothes.  You’d been useless to fight them as they pulled a wig down on your head.  You were trapped in your own body, only able to witness the horror has he killed her right in front of you.  In your mind, you screamed while he seamlessly ushered you past Jensen and into the crowd.  Right under the noses of the undercover agents who were meant to protect you. 

     You forced your mind to focus.  Agent Solomon had gone over countless scenarios with you, and this was one of them.  You quickly took inventory and noted that every scrap of clothing had been removed or replaced.  Your tracking monitor, your cell phone, your pepper spray and pocketknife.  Anything that might have been useful was long gone. 

     Except the blue paisley tie Jensen wrapped around your wrist.  You could still feel the cool silk against your skin.  Your tether to him and a reminder that you still had access to one thing that might help you.  The fourth wall.  The stage was set, and this was just another part to play.  If you gave a convincing enough performance, you might just come out of this alive.

     “Where are you taking me?” you asked as you pulled the frayed seatbelt over your shoulder and secured it.

     “Tsk, Tsk!  Telling would ruin the surprise, and you know how much I love a good surprise.”

     You scanned the scenery whizzing past and found it unfamiliar.  A two-lane road cut through thick woodland as the sun began to set.  No signs other than the occasional mile marker and warnings about rockslides.  Your ears popped, confirming you were headed to higher elevation and farther away from civilization.

      Show time.

     “Why haven’t you killed me?”  You ripped the auburn-colored wig from your head and tossed it to the floor. 

     “Do you want me to?” he returned, patting the handgun in his lap.

     Panic tried to rise like bile in your throat.  You pushed it down and snatched the half full pack of cigarettes from the dash. 

     “What I want is to wake up safe at home with a beer and left-over pizza in the fridge, but we don’t always get what we want.”

     “Beer and pizza,” Arthur repeated with a scoff.  “Sophistication never was your strong suit, Y/N.  One of Colin’s many grievances about you.”

     “What I lacked in sophistication, I made up for in eagerness.”  You lit a cigarette and took a long drag, “I certainly never heard any complaints about that.”

     “Slut.  Useless whore.  No wonder you shacked up with a Hollywood scumbag like Ackles.  You probably fuck him for a weekly allowance.”  His fingers tightened around the wheel as he spoke, “Colin deserved so much better than you.”

     “Someone like you, I suppose.”  You barked out a laugh as Green turned red from the neck up, “Jesus, you’re not still carrying a torch for a dead man, are you?  That’s pathetic, Artie.  It really is.  You know he just kept you around out of pity.  Poor little Artie from the block…”

     He backhanded you right across the mouth.  Your lip split and you tasted blood.

     “Shut up!  Just shut your whore mouth!”  He grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the window, making you groan and slump in your seat.  Your vison went hazy, but you kept conscious.

     “You conniving bitch… you had to go to the feds!  If it wasn’t for that I’d have killed you quick and been done with it.  One last loose end… but not now.  Now, I get creative.  I’ll start with your little boy toy; carve his pretty face up so not even his own mother will recognize him.  Your bestie with those cute kids?  I’ll strangle her to death while they watch.”

     You didn’t say anything, waiting him out as he raged on, “Oh!  But what about your baby sister?  Frankie.  Well, let’s just say she’ll wish she’d died in that car wreck by the time I get through with her.”

     With Arthur’s rage distracting him, you saw your opening and you took it.  The cigarette was still clenched in your fist.  Your hand shot out and you crushed the glowing cherry into his face.  It sizzled and he screamed.

     He howled in pain, and you grabbed the wheel, yanking it with all your might!  The two of you fought for control and sent the truck into a spin.  The back end fishtailed, and the tires squealed.  The world went topsy turvy around you as the truck went careening off the road with a deafening crash.  Then, silence.

     “Black SUV, headed east on Market.  That’s the last we see of it until it popped up abandoned in the Whole Foods parking lot.”

     “We got the video from them?”

     “Nada.  Their surveillance system went down last week.”

     “Safe bet that was our perp.  Get the last recordings they have in the database, let’s see if Green shows his face.”

      “SUV registered to Mrs. Barbara Perkins, deceased.”

     “Naturally.  Get a trace on that name, address, bank accounts, the works.”

      Jensen had never felt more useless in his life.  While the FBI agents bustled around their make-shift headquarters, he was sitting in an office chair.  Waiting.  There was literally nothing else he could do.  They already knew what Green looked like, even disguised as a fangirl.  The pics of Jensen signing autographs went live on social media almost instantaneously.  There were all sorts of video surveillance of him walking around the park and walking a stumbling girl through the parking lot.  It was as if he was showing off.  Flaunting his deeds to the authorities who were oblivious to it all.

      Jensen felt sick at the thought of how close you were.  Green had walked you right by him and he didn’t even know it!  His mind kept going to the dead woman wearing your clothes.  Blood everywhere.  Running like a river from her slit throat.  It could have so easily been you.  It still could, and that thought chilled him to the bone.

     The video was good for one thing though, it confirmed that you had been very much alive when you left with him.  Jensen was holding on to that fact like a lifeline!  You were smart and you were a fighter.  You’d come back, you had to.  He had a whole life planned out and every day of it included you.  Marriage.  Children.  Big family Christmases.  Quiet date nights.  He even planned a proposal in Paris.  You told him you always wanted to go and making your dreams come true had become an obsession for him.  Nothing made him happy like making you happy.  His life wasn’t his own, it was forever intertwined with yours. 

      In the immortal words of his alter-ego, “There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.”

      When his phone rang, his heart nearly stopped.  He didn’t recognize the number, but knew it was you.  “Y/N?!”

     “Jensen!  Oh God…!”

      Agent Solomon was on him instantly to hand the phone over, he refused.  But he did put it on speaker.  “Sweetheart, where are you?  Are you okay?!”

     The connection was tenuous, making your voice fade in and out. 

     “I’m okay… not… don’t know…. Arthur crashed…”

     “Crashed?!  What happened?”

      Solomon grabbed the phone, “Doctor West, are you with Green right now?”

     “No.  We crashed…. Left…”

     “Was he alive when you saw him last?”

     “…. Unconscious… don’t…. “

      “What kind of vehicle was he driving?”

     “Blue pickup… Dairyland.”

      “Dairyland?”  Jensen repeated. 

     “AJ… 677.”

      “Wisconsin plates,” Solomon signaled to his agents to run a search.  Even fragmented information would pull up something.

     “Doctor West, do you know where you are?”

     “Highway.  I don’t… mountains.  Jay!  Its… otter… Kimmy…”

     The agent locked eyes with Jensen, “What is she talking about?”

     “I don’t know,” he shook his head.  “Kimmy who?”

     “Kim… makeup… otter tattoo.”

     It clicked for him then.  The makeup artist who designed her own tattoos, Kimmy.  She’d been quite taken with Y/N when she went to the set that day.

      “It’s Mount Harvey, the snow melt on the south face looks like an otter playing baseball.”

      “Good.  Doctor West, we’re coming to you.”

      If she heard, she didn’t reply.  The phone screen showed the call dropped.  Solomon handed the phone to one of his team to pull trace information while he barked orders.  The well-oiled team shifted into their roles.  Dispatch communicated with local authorities on every level.  One of the advantages of working with the FBI, they were practiced in the art of the manhunt.  It wasn’t a question of if they would get Green, but when.  And would it be in time?

     “Ackles, you’re with me.”

     Jensen looked up in time to catch a bulletproof vest with FBI printed across the chest. 

     “I don’t have civilians on my tactical team as a rule,” Solomon informed him, zipping up his own vest.  “But you know Y/N better than anyone, I need your insight.  Let’s move.”

     You weren’t sure how far you’d gotten or how long you’d been walking.  It seemed like forever.  That ancient truck Arthur had been driving actually turned out to be a blessing.  The frame was good, old fashioned American steel and took the brunt of the crash without much damage.  The seatbelt did its job and prevented you from being thrown through the windshield.  Although, it dug into you with enough force that you likely had a broken clavicle and possibly a dislocated shoulder.  It throbbed like a son of a bitch, but you still made out better than Green. 

     He was going over sixty miles per hour when he crashed, and he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.  He was slumped over the steering wheel, bleeding from a deep gash on his scalp and covered in broken glass from the shattered windshield.  The doctor in you wanted to check for a pulse, but your visual assessment would have to do.  He was breathing, and that was enough.  You knew time wasn’t on your side, you needed to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. 

      You made a quick search of his pockets and found both a phone and a handgun.  The passenger side door was bashed in, making it impossible to escape through the door or the window.  With a quick glance to confirm your kidnapper was still unconscious, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and climbed over the dash and through the shattered windshield.  You ignored the pain of the broken glass tearing into your hands and legs. 

     You had to get out and make a run for it, it was your only chance!

     The charge on the cell was dwindling as it searched for a signal, but the fates were with you, and it connected.  The sound of Jensen’s voice nearly broke you.  You held yourself together enough to get as much information out as you could before the call dropped. 

     “No, no damn it!”  Your fingers shook as you tried to call again, only to be me with no service.  You looked around at the dense trees lining the two-lane highway and the rapidly setting sun.  Tears blurred your vision and the weight of your situation hit you in force.

     There was nowhere to go for help, you didn’t even know where you were!  The adrenaline in your system was fading and you could feel the effects of shock setting in.  Injured in a car wreck coupled with who knows what the side effects of that drug Arthur shot you up with.   You well and truly screwed.

     You bent at the waist; your hands braced on your knees as you fought the rising panic.  The blue patterned silk tied to your wrist peeked out from under your shirt cuff. 

     “Breathe, Y/N.”

     “I can’t.”

     “I’m right here, Sweetheart.  I’m with you.”

     “He’s going to kill me!”

     “You can do this, come on.  Deep breath.  In and out.”

     You closed your eyes and rubbed the silk between your finger and thumb.  Like magic, you saw the closet.  Warm and filled with color-coded clothes.  The scent of cedar and vanilla cologne and Jensen smiling. 

     “You’ve got this, Y/N.  Keep moving, keep fighting!  I’m coming for you.”

     The actor’s trick worked.  Your mind cleared and you focused.  Obviously, continuing on foot was only a decent option when you knew where you were going.  You didn’t.  Which meant it was a drain on your energy reserves.  Plus, it would make rescuing you that much more difficult for the people looking for you. 

     You eyed the woods.  It was risky, with nightfall fast approaching, you would have wildlife to contend with and falling temps, but then… so would Green.  If he came to, he’d be looking for you.  Best to make that as difficult as possible. 

     “Stronger together,” you muttered the motto that became a mantra.  Even though he wasn’t holding your hand, Jensen was still with you.  You could still count on him, to remind you what was worth fighting for. 

     With the gun heavy in your hand, you climbed down the embankment and disappeared into the forest.

     “R.C.M.P. clocked a vehicle matching Green’s heading north on 99.  Last spotted an hour ago just passing Lion’s Bay.”

     “Any confirmation on passengers?”

     “Two.  A male and a female.”

     “Given the timeframe of the crash, they couldn’t have gotten much farther than that.”

     “Any hits on the cell?”

     “No, sir.”

     “Keep trying.  If she’s on the move, we might get lucky.”

     Jensen kept quiet as he sat in the back of the SUV.  The flurry of clipped commands yielded no new information.  They were racing towards you, but there was no way to know if they would make it in time.  Jensen tugged at the tie on his wrist while his mind worked over-time.  Were you hurt?  Scared?  Running or hiding?  Were you alive? 

     God please, let her be alive!

     As if on cue, his cell phone rang.  Only once, before the call dropped, but it was your number.  And it was enough.

     “Got it!  Moving slow, heading north by northeast towards Tunnel Bluffs.”

     “We’ve got local law in the area about ten minutes out.”

     “All units converge on new coordinates, be advised our witness is currently on foot.”

     “The assailant is considered armed and dangerous, use of full and deadly force authorized for all personnel.”

     The trees on Mount Harvey were thick and grew to impressive proportions.  Massive, monolithic firs and pines that held the record for some of the biggest on Earth.  Tangles of undergrowth and roots covered every inch of the forest floor, you lost your footing more than once.  Every fall slowed you down and added to your injuries.  The sun dropped to just below the horizon and the temperature went with it.

     You leaned heavily against one of the pines to catch your breath.  Your physical reserves were nearly gone, and you knew it.  There was just enough daylight left to make out a tree a few feet away.  It had an unusual split in its trunk.  Limping and cradling your arm to ease the pressure on your shoulder, you poked around in the gap.  Mostly filled with decomposing leaves, but big enough to shelter you for the night. 

     You squeezed your body through the opening and bit back a grunt as the bark scraped your injuries.  It wasn’t comfortable, which was for the best.  Your exhausted body was already vying for sleep, anything to counter that was welcome.  The opening wasn’t wide enough to see much, but it was still a defensible position.

     Your frozen fingers flexed around the gun as your eyes worked to adjust to the darkness falling.  The weight of it in your hand was unfamiliar and uncomfortable.  You were a doctor, you saved lives you didn’t take them.  Your thumb clicked off the safety as you committed to the only course of action that would leave you alive.  It would be a long night and you were damn well going to survive it. 

     “All around the cobbler’s bench, the monkey chased the weasel.”

     Your eyes popped open.  When had you shut them?  The phone in your pocket died long ago, so it was impossible to tell how long you’d been in hiding.  The woods were still.  There was no wind or sounds of scuttling wildlife.  But a child’s song, so faint you thought you’d imagined it. 

     “The monkey thought was all in fun.”

     “A penny for a spool of thread, a penny for a needle.”

     “That’s the way the money goes.”

      “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”

     There it was again.  Singing.  You were sure you hadn’t imagined it, it had to be Arthur.  God!  It seemed like you were making a racket!  Your breathing, your heartbeat, your eyelashes blinking rapidly as you desperately scanned the inky shadows.  Why did sound amplify in the cold and the dark?  It all seemed to be announcing your location to the man who was coming to murder you. 

     “Up and down the London road.”

     “In and out of the Eagle.”

     “That’s the way the money goes.”

     “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”

     He was playing with you.  The monkey and the weasel.  Cat and mouse.  You should have kept running!  Should have kept to the road, someone would have seen you.  You would have stood a chance!  Now you were in a trap of your own making.

     “I’ve no time to plead and pine.”

     “I’ve no time to wheedle.”

     “Kiss me quick and then I’m gone.”

     “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”

     The echo of the woods distorted Arthur’s voice so that you had no clue where he was coming from.  Running now would do you no good.  It was too late.  The son of a bitch was closing in on you now.  Would they even be able to find your body?  Would Jensen ever know what became of you?  You should have ran the minute you remembered your name. 

     “All around the cobbler’s bench.”

     “Arthur chased the doctor.”

     “The doctor thought was all in fun…”

     God, please keep him safe from the psychopath.  And Frankie!  Make sure they know I love them!  No matter what happens to me… I love you!

     “Pop!”

     Arthur.  Blood, dirt, and broken glass.  A twisted grin split his grotesque face. 

     Time stopped; a shot rang out.  Then, nothing.

     Jensen stood with the small, second group of agents investigating the crashed truck.  Two sets of footprints disappeared into the woods and the first round of FBI had already spread out into the wilderness to join the Mounties and broaden the search.

     The report of a gunshot echoed all the way back to the road.

     His blood ran cold.  “Y/N.”

     A hand went to Jensen’s Kevlar covered chest before he could move.  Bruce, the iron faced agent assigned to the actor, held him in place.

     "Let me go!"

     "Not a chance."

     "That was a fucking gunshot!"

     "Yeah, it was.  You take off now, the next one might have your name on it."

     “I don’t care!”

     "Right now, every resource we have is focused on Y/N.  You go out there and those resources get split, cutting her chance at survival in half.”

     Jensen turned away, running his hands through his hair.  “Fuck!”

     "We've all got a job to do.  Yours is communication,” Bruce put a steady hand on Jensen’s shoulder.  “You want to help your girl?   Stay put.  Be here and be ready to answer when she calls."

     Knowing Bruce was right didn't make the next hour of waiting any easier.  It was agony.  There was no word.  Not a sound from anyone.  Radio silence, Agent Bruce called it.  He seemed to think it was a positive sign, but it was driving Jensen insane.  Each minute that passed brought a horrible new thought.  A potential nightmare that could play out right in front of him.  And he was powerless to prevent it.

     He was past the end of his rope when an ambulance came into view and sped past them.  Traveling at breakneck speed up the mountain. Flashing lights bouncing off the trees and rock face. 

     Bruce held a finger to the tiny Speaker in his ear.  A grim look passed his features.

     "Let's move."

     He said nothing more.  No word on if you were alive or dead.  No hint at who that ambulance was for.  An hour ago, Jensen would have sworn he'd reached his capacity for worry and stress.  But that was nothing compared to the five minutes it took to reach the clearing.  There was a mass of people milling around.  F.B.I. he recognized and a few others outfitted in uniforms for the R.C.M.P.  That ambulance was parked off to the side, the back door was closed but the lights were still flashing.  Several other official looking vehicles showed up, including one for the coroner’s office. 

     Jensen was out of the car before Bruce even put it in park.  He caught the slender build of Frank Solomon, casually talking to a couple of other agents by the rail guard.  The son of a bitch was acting like he’d completed a milk run!  Jensen’s nostrils flared with rage as he made a direct path for him.

     The young man looked up, seemingly unphased by the Texan’s aggressive approach.

     "Ackles.”

     "Where is she?!"

     Solomon’s mouth opened, but it wasn’t his voice that was heard.  A shrill, terrified scream came from inside the ambulance, cutting through the night.

      "Jensen!"

     He'd spent fifteen years stepping into the boots of Dean Winchester.  Fighting monsters.  Some you could see, some you couldn't.  But no matter how close he was to the hero he portrayed; it was still an act.  Though there were plenty of times he’d wished it were real.  Wished he were more like the enigmatic man in the ’67 Chevy.  The man who always knew what to do.  The man who always saved the day.

     And yes, he would let his ‘Dean’ show from time to time.  That was a blurred line that proved useful more than once.  But in that moment when you screamed for him, there was no line.  There was no Dean, there was clarity. 

     Solomon got exactly one word out, “Wait…”  

     Jensen pulled back his fist and punched him square in the face, knocking him on his ass.

     He ran to that ambulance.  On a mission and with one purpose, he tore the door open.  

     You were sitting on a gurney, struggling against the medic who was trying to keep you from bolting.  Bruised and bloody.  But breathing!  The second you saw him, you went still, your bottom lip quivered.

     “Jensen.”

     The medic proved smarter than the F.B.I. agents and moved out of the way, allowing Jensen the room to take you in his arms.  That was when you broke completely.  Sobbing and desperately clinging to him like a child.  You weren’t sure how you got there.  One minute you were in that tree being stalked by a killer, the next you were being bundled into an ambulance.  It was so surreal!  It wasn’t until you heard Jensen on the other side of the door that you snapped.  Reality crashed over you, and you couldn’t breathe. 

     Jensen tried to will his own panic away.  You were alive.  He had you.  Bloody and trembling, but in his arms.  He could hear himself telling you soothing things.  Comforting words that he would never be able to recall later.  He was sure you couldn’t understand him anyway, you were crying so hard that your whole body shook. 

     But his voice was a balm, the timbre of it washed over you.  After a time, the raw shock wore through to numbness.  You drew a shuddering breath and tried to speak. 

     “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice coming from just over your head.  “I’m right here.”

     You released your death grip on Jensen’s jacket and snuck a look at your hands.  There were burn marks there from the gun powder.  Across the clearing, two men were maneuvering a stretcher over the gravel.  A black body bag was strapped to the top.

     “I killed him.”

     Jensen gently brushed the tangled hair away from your face.  His gaze followed yours to the body being taken away.  It could have so easily been you.  He rubbed his hand down your back and tucked your head under his chin.

     “Don’t look, baby.  Don’t think about it.  Never again.”

     The EMT reappeared, insisting that you go to the hospital.  He listed a number of injuries that needed attention.  Including another fucking concussion.

     You managed a weak laugh, “Look at us, right back where we started.”

     “At least you didn’t drown this time, your average is improving,” Jensen said, kissing your forehead.

     With practiced efficiency, the medic had you secured and ready for transport.  Just as the door was about to shut, Frank Solomon appeared.  His jaw was discolored and starting to swell where Jensen landed his punch. 

     Jensen smirked, “Back for round two?”

     “The ambulance is already at capacity, let’s not chance it.”  Solomon’s dark eyes shifted to you.  The arrogance drained away, and he seemed softer.  Almost repentant. 

      “Doctor West, I wanted to let you know that the death of Arthur Green officially closes this case.  You are no longer under any obligation to the F.B.I. for any purpose and you are free to resume your life.”

     “You won’t need me to make a statement?”

     “We have everything we need.  And I have to say, without your cooperation and your bravery, we never would have gotten Green let alone shut down the drug ring.  This victory is yours.”

     “I shot a man.  Deserved or not, that doesn’t feel particularly victorious.”

     Solomon blinked slowly, “You didn’t shoot Arthur Green.”

     “What?”

     “Barely clipped his shoulder, but I hardly call that a shot,” the agent shrugged, his casual manner back in place.  “One of the Mounted Police got him… Roberts, I think.  One clean shot to the head.  Green was dead before he hit the ground.”

     You could have lived with the death on your conscience, knowing it had been self-defense.  But the fact that you didn’t have to, freed you.  Well and truly.  Lightness settled in where guilt had been only a moment ago.  Words failed you.  An astonished gasp left your lips, and you let you head rest against Jensen’s shoulder.

     “Goodbye, Doctor West.  Mr. Ackles.”  Solomon shut the door and thumped it twice. 

     The ambulance slowly rolled away to begin its descent down the mountain.  Jensen’s hand found yours under the emergency blanket tucked over your lap.

     “It’s over.”

     “Yeah, it’s all over, Sweetheart” he murmured, kissing your temple.

     You and Jensen would talk about the incredible circumstances of how you got together often over the years.  You would muse on the workings of fate and God’s grand plan.  You would wonder at the impossibility of it all. 

     Surely, there must have been an easier way for two lost souls to meet.

     But then, meeting wouldn’t have been enough.  The two of you were drowning; separately but equally.  The miserable details of your own lives were pulling you under like a riptide.  It was so all-consuming that you couldn’t break free.  You weren’t strong enough, not alone. 

     It was like Jensen said that day in your old apartment, make a different choice.  The two of you chose to save each other.  But you also chose to let yourself to be saved.  It wasn’t passive and it wasn’t by chance.  It was a decision.  Perhaps not always an easy one, but it had power. 

     Love does conquer all, but only if you choose it.  TagList @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseubyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @deanwwinchester

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

imagine just fucking looking like jensen ackles. imagine being born like that. absolutely no effort needed to look perfect you just get up every day and that is your face. you wouldn't even have to be talented at anything bcos lesbians and straight men are ready to sell their soul to you out the gate like. girl. fucking imagine that is your FACE

[bowlegsandbiceps]

[holylulusworld]

Perfect Ending - Kinktober 17

Summary: Jensen finally got you in his room...

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x fem!Reader

Kink: a/b/o roleplay

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, protected sex, a/b/o roleplay, dirty talk, a hint of fluff, rpf

Final sequel to New Discoveries & Greenest Green

Kinktober 2022

“Fuck, we should go to your room. We can’t do this here.”

Jensen is busy shoving your skirt up to your waistline. He doesn’t care you are in the hallways of his hotel, or that anyone could walk in on him and you doing the nasty.

“I want you,” he purrs in your ear. It’s like he knows exactly what to say to turn you into a mewling mess. “You’re mine, and I’ll show everyone you belong with me.”

“Alpha.”

“My omega.”

Jensen smirks against your skin. He will fulfill your naughtiest fantasy tonight to make sure, you will stick around. “Jensen, we really should go to your room.”

“Aw, my sweet girl suddenly turns out to be shy.”

He places his hands on the wall on each side of your head to watch you squirm under his gaze.

“Jensen, I don’t want anyone to catch us doing things we shouldn’t do in public,” you whisper, not wanting to draw attention toward you and Jensen. “Please.”

“I love it when you beg me,” he smirks now. His green eyes sparkle, as your lips part and you can only whimper in response. “I can imagine making you beg some more when you are filled with my cock.”

While you pinch your arm to find out if you are daydreaming once again, Jensen gets the key to his hotel room out.

“I will devour you…little omega,” he pushes the door open. “Get inside.”

You don’t have the time to even blink before Jensen pushes you inside the room and slams the door shut. He looks like a predator as he walks you inside the room and toward the bed.

He roughly takes his jacket off, throwing it somewhere on the ground as he forces you to walk back until the back of your legs hits the bed.

You fall onto the bed, yelping. “Look at my sweet omega. I can smell your slick,” you gasp as Jensen stays in his role. “I bet you are eager to get my knot inside your cunt. Hmm…you will make the sweetest noises.”

“Alpha,” you roll over to go on hands and knees. At the same time as you try to remember everything happening in the fanfiction you read, Jensen hastily undresses. His clothes end up splattered all over the floor. “Please, I need your knot.”

“Such a good girl,” you bury your face into the cushions. Waiting. Hoping. Whimpering. “I knew you’ll be the perfect omega to my alpha.”

“Yes, I’ll be so good for you.”

Jensen shoves your skirt up to your waist to reveal your soaked and half-torn panties. He hums, eyes glued to the ruined fabric. You bite the pillow to hold back a groan.

Your favorite actor takes his sweet time. He watches you squirm and whimper while fisting his cock. “I bet you are dripping for my cock.”

You shriek. Jensen just ripped your panties off of your body. He doesn’t seem to care that you impatiently wiggle your ass, or that you make a pained noise when he brushes his index finger over your clit.

“Please.”

“Patience, sweetheart.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Alpha, please.”

“Be good,” he slaps your ass. “No begging or your alpha will tie you down and use your dripping hole for his liking, and you won’t cum.”

You bite the pillow. It’s a struggle to remain calm as you hear Jensen get a condom out. He strokes his cock a few times before rolling the condom over his length.

“Shit, you look so good like that,” he grips your hips with one large hand. “I’m going to make you mine, sweetness.”

Jensen rubs his cock up and down your slicked folds, holding back a groan. He’s all too eager to fill you but takes his sweet time to make sure you know he’s in charge.

Pressing the tip in Jensen watches your reaction. You moan, and fist the sheets, waiting to get more of him. “Take me,” you cry out as he grips your hips and thrusts hard to fill you in one go.

“Fuck.”

There is no time to complain. Not when Jensen slowly starts sliding in and out, in and out until you start to push back onto him. You want and need more but he’s not willing to let you take control.

Jensen wraps one strong arm around your waistline to bring you to his chest. He holds you there as he speeds up to slam into you. “Je-nsen.”

“Fuck, that’s a good pussy,” he chuckles as you squirm in his hold. “I’ll keep you, omega. No other alpha will get this cunt.”

He gives you three, four hard thrusts and you don’t react to his words. Jensen nuzzles your cheek, acting as if he’s scenting you.

You forget about your favorite role, or that you wanted to meet Jared, not Jensen. And you forget that the man fucking you with vigor is still a stranger to you.

All you can focus on are his cock moving in and out of you, his breath in your neck, and his hands, those large hands pawing at your flesh.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine. “Alpha, please knot me.”

“Fuck, you are something else.”

He pushes you back onto the bed and covers your body with his tall frame. Jensen mounts you like an animal, groaning and cursing as you clench tightly around his thick cock.

“Alpha…”

“That’s so fucking good,” Jensen comes with a shout of your name, followed by profanities and praises for your cunt. “Fuck. I’ll have you on every surface later…”

“So…where do you live?” Jensen watches you snuggle into his side. After you did it for the third time, you wanted to leave. You believe it’s what he wanted.

Jensen held you back.

“Uh-Texas.”

“Don’t tell me you moved to Texas to get to know Jared better,” you roll your eyes. “Right. You didn’t move there to meet him.”

“I moved there for my new job, Mr. Ackles.”

“Not moments ago, I was your alpha.”

“Jensen. I should go now. It’s better this way.”

“No, it’s not. I wanted to know where you are living to make sure we can see each other again. If you want to, we can fly back home together and have a date…I,” he laughs. “I mean we already know we love fucking each other.”

“If you can behave, we can have a date.”

“Or-“ he rolls you onto your back, grinning, “we could join the mile-high club together…”

Tags in reblog.

[jawritter]

Single!Jensen. Photographer!reader. Convention. Nesnej. Need more?

Are You Flirting With Me?

Pairing: Drunk!Jensen Ackles x Photograper!Reader

Word Count: 503

Warnings: Pre-Smut, Flirting, Drunk Jensen (Yes, he get’s a warning), Language

A/N: Okay, so apparently Tumblr still isn’t letting me tag people, sorry guys, but it worked out okay last night so I’m going to go ahead and post this without tags, I have emailed support, and hopefully they can work it out before TDITNR post Friday! All mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Enjoy!

“Would you just look at the damn camera please!”

Jensen tosses his head back and laughs one of those full body laughs the fans go on and on about and fuck if you don’t see why, the man is fucking beautiful; even if he is rockstar wasted. 

“Okay, okay, how’s this?” He questioned before flashing you the perfect Blue Steel, and you roll your eyes dramatically and repress the laugh as you snap the shot, because honestly, even if you didn’t get the perfect headshot creation was looking for at this point at least the shots he was giving you were going to be eaten alive by his fanbase, as well as yourself, the man was fucking gorgeous. 

“You know, this would go a hell of a lot faster Jensen, if you would just give me a serious shot,” you chuckle as you reset your camera, and he staggers forward slightly and grabs the wall for support before taking another generous swig of his ‘apple juice’ Creaton had so graciously provided him. 

“But what if I don’t want it to go any faster,” he slurs slightly as he stalks towards you, pupils blown wide with adrenaline and lust, his whole demeanor changing on a dime and fuck if you didn’t think your panties just melted slam off of your body, and you take a another shot, finally at least getting that serious picture of him, even if he was in mid stride, it would make a hell of a story later, that is, if you live to tell the tell. “What if I want to drag this out as long as possible, and then, when it’s finally over, what if I take you back to my room and we can have a few more personal shots that you can keep for just you?”

“Are you flirting with me Ackles?” you try to tease, and he smirks a smirk that you were sure carved by the Devil himself. 

Jensen shrugs as he takes the camera from your hands, and turns it around to snap a shot of your face as you stare up at him in sheer fucking amazement that this might actually be happening, and the that you might actually be okay with it, even if it goes against everything you normally stand for. Sure, he’s single as fuck, and so are you, but one night stands where never really your thing, but this was also Jensen fucking Ackles, and there was no walking away from that, no matter how your moral compass screams at you that you might regret it later. 

“Is it really flirting though? Or is it a proposition you can’t refuse?” He questioned, and laughed again as your jaw hit the floor at his boldness, and another flash came from the camera as he snapped yet another shot. 

“Come on baby girl,” he smirked, dropping the camera onto the small table next to him before he reached for your hand, “let me take you on the ride of your life, and we can worry about regretting it later.”

He might regret it when he sobered up, but you were sure of one thing, you never would.

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Domestic Violence, Language, mention of death

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309. In this story the reader is a widow who has a 4 year old daughter. She’s dating a very abusive man, so she enrolls her daughter in preschool to keep her as shielded as possible. At the preschool we find her daughter has made friends with a set of twins. At pick up one day the reader realizes the parent of her daughter’s best friend is none other than Jensen Ackles. A friendship forms, and decisions are made after a particularly nasty fight with her boyfriend. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.

*This chapter sets up the story-it’s a bit long due to this.*

Minors DNI 18+

You sat on the side of your bed rubbing your arm, trying to get the sting of the pain to go away. Another night, another argument with Robert, your boyfriend. You’d only been dating about 9 months, and at first everything seemed perfect. You felt the sting of the tears fill your eyes 

Knowing how much he hated when you cried, you fought to keep them at bay. Crying after he hit you only made things worse. You were thankful, however, your four year old daughter, Jazmyne was already in bed. 

You did your best to keep her shielded from the violence that plagued your life now. Your late husband, Josh, was a kind, gentle man. He wouldn’t lift a hand to you and was an amazing father to Jazmyne. Josh was so gentle that if a spider got into the house he’d scoop it up and carry it outside. He died unexpectedly after a workplace accident. Your heart was irrevocably broken when the two of you lost him. 

Now Robert was in your lives. You met him at a house party and he swept you off your feet. The first time he hit you, the two of you were arguing and things got heated quickly. Then he slapped you across your face, drawing blood from your mouth. You made him leave and told him it was over. 

For almost a month you kept him at bay. Then loneliness, apologies and manipulation took over. You took him back. Things were fine, and then a switch flipped again. 

The latest fight was over dinner. You’d come home late from work and he was mad because dinner was late. After picking Jazmyne up at your friend’s house you decided to stop and grab a pizza. When you got home, he was there and became angry when he saw the pizza box.

“What the fuck is that?” He growled as he motioned to the box. “It’s dinner, and I’ve asked you not to use that language in front of my daughter.” He stepped closer to you and grabbed your chin hard, “I’ll talk however the fuck I want you stupid bitch!” You jerked your face away and set the box down. 

Looking at Jazmyne you spoke softly, “Go play while mommy gets your dinner ready, okay?” Your beautiful little girl nodded and bounded down the hall to her room. 

You grabbed a plate for your toddler and started to cut up her slice of pizza. “You’re a lazy fucking whore, you know that. What kind of mother doesn’t cook for her family?” You ignored him and kept getting Jazmyne’s food ready. 

He grabbed your arm hard, pulling you around to face him and causing you to drop her plate. “Don’t you fucking ignore me. I asked you a question.” “Robert, I’m not in the mood to fight with you. I think you should leave. I’m exhausted and I need to get Jazzy ready for dinner and bed. I don’t have time to deal with this.”

You tried to pull your arm out of his grip, but it was too tight. “Let me the fuck go!” You yelled. 

Robert got in your face, his eyes dark with anger, “I’ll let you go when I feel like it. You belong to ME!” He let go of you, grabbed some food and went to sit in the living room. You walked towards Jazmyne’s room and found her crying.

You ran in and got on the floor, “Oh baby, what’s wrong?” “He hurt mommy.” She softly said. You scooped her up and held her tight, knowing you needed to make a change before it was too late. “I’m okay baby girl, I promise. Let’s go eat our pizza and we can play with your new bath paint tonight.” 

She smiled wide and nodded. You took her into the kitchen, put her at the table and got her a piece of pizza. You cut her slice and grabbed you one too. You noticed she kept looking towards Robert and you could see the fear in her eyes. You knew exactly what you needed to do. 

After dinner, you got Jazmyne in the tub and she played with her new bath paint. She talked about her new friends at preschool and how much fun they were. You had recently put her in preschool to help her socialize and to shield her from the crap between you and Robert. 

“So, Jazzy, what are their names?” You asked her as she excitedly talked about her new friends. “Arrow and Zeppy, they are twins, well his name is Zeppelin, but everyone calls him Zeppy.” She said with a smile on her face. You almost choked on air. There was no way these children are the children of the man you’d pined after, Jensen Ackles. You’d been a fan of his for years and watched everything he was in, at least twice. You were heartbroken when you heard his wife died during childbirth. She was giving birth to the twins, and there were complications. 

Jensen disappeared from public life after the death of his wife. He still acted on Supernatural, but his appearances in public and at conventions stopped. It wasn’t until recently he had started to make sporadic appearances and going back to conventions. 

After her bath you got her ready and into bed. Walking into the living room you saw Robert sitting on the couch. “We need to talk.” You said as you walked in. He looked up from his phone and his jaw clenched. 

“I’m going to record this conversation for my protection and yours. I don’t want any confusion as to what is being said tonight.” You told him as you hit record on your phone and he scoffed.

“I deserve better than to be with someone who puts their hands on me. My priority is my daughter, and she always will be. I don’t want her to grow up thinking it’s okay to be hit or grabbed by someone who says they love her. I want you to leave, and not come back. I’m not doing this anymore. We aren’t good for each other, so this, (you motioned between the two of you), is over.” 

Robert sat silently. The eerie silence sent a chill through your body. He sat up and started to speak low, “If that’s what you think, then I guess there isn’t anything I can do about it.” “That’s what I’m saying. I need your key.” He pulled out his keys and took the house key off his ring. Then he stood up, grabbed his stuff and left. 

You let out the breath you were holding and quickly went and locked up the house. You called your best friend and told her what happened. She was glad you finally kicked him out. “Do you need me to come over tonight?” She asked. “No, he left his key, so I’m sure it’s going to be okay.” You reassured her. “Okay, well I’m proud of you, if you need me, let me know.” “I will, I love you girl.” “Love you too, bye.” 

Hanging up you grabbed your pajamas and went to take a shower. Climbing in you felt the pain from Robert’s abuse. You cried. Your tears mixing with the water that cascaded from the showerhead. 

After your shower you climbed into bed and scrolled on your phone. You found yourself on Jensen’s Instagram page, smiling at the pictures he’d posted of himself and his children. A new post popped up and it made your heart flutter. It was a picture of his twins and he captioned it with “These two are rocking their first year of preschool. Zeppy has a new little friend he talks about all the time. He said she’s a princess because her name is Jasmine.” Your eyes went wide, was he talking about your Jazzy? You smiled and put your phone down, falling asleep.

The next morning you got Jazzy up and ready for school. On the drive there she was really quiet. “Jazzy, baby, what’s wrong?” You looked in the mirror and met your daughter’s big green eyes. They were full of sadness and fear, “I’m scared mommy.” A frown formed on your face, “What are you scared of baby?” “Robert. He hurt you.” “Oh baby, I’m okay. I made him leave. He won’t be back. It’s just you and me now.” A small smile formed on her face.

Getting her out of her seat at the school the two of you walked hand in hand towards the entrance. Your daughter squealed in excitement and dropped your hand, taking off towards two children. “Arrow, Zeppy!” She squealed. The two children turned around and smiled, running towards her. 

You continued walking and made it to the very excited children. Hugs were exchanged and giggles filled the air. Then there he was, Jensen Ackles. He chuckled as he walked up to you and the three children, “Oh this must be the little princess.” You smiled as your eyes met his. He extended his hand, “Hello, I’m Jensen, and these two are mine, Arrow and Zeppelin.” You extended your hand to shake his hand, not realizing there was a bruise on your arm or on the side of your face. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N and this little one is Jazmyn. I’ve heard so much about your children from her. They are really sweet to her.” 

You noticed his eyes kept scanning you and that’s when you noticed the bruise. You pulled your arm back and felt the embarrassment fill your cheeks. Zeppelin spoke up, breaking the silence between you and Jensen, “Daddy, can we have a playdate after school? Pleeease.” The three children were looking up at Jensen and you. “Well, how about we plan something for the weekend, that way you three can have longer to play, I mean if it’s okay with you.” He looked at you. “Oh absolutely. Besides, I have to work late today and Jazzy will be at her Auntie Nichole’s house.” 

Jensen grabbed the twins’ hands and started to walk towards the door, “We probably should get them inside.” He gestured. “Yeah, don’t want them to be late.” 

After saying your goodbyes, you and Jensen walked towards the parking lot together. “Hey, Y/N. Let me give you my number so we can work out the details of the playdate, and if um, you need anything, please call me.” You offered him a soft smile, “That would be great, Jensen, thank you. I know Jazzy will love it.”

The two of you said your goodbyes, and as you started to walk away Jensen stopped and called your name. “Hey, Y/N.” He stepped closer to you, “He’s an asshole and you don’t deserve that. I promise we aren’t all like that. If you need anything, please call me.” “Thank you, Jensen. For everything, and just so you know I made him leave and broke up with him.” Jensen smiled and lightly touched your arm, “good”. 

Hours later your shift was done. Nichole had picked Jazzy up from school and she was going to bring her home later. You pulled into your driveway and walked in your house. Putting your stuff down you decided you’d take a quick shower before Jazmyne got home. 

Getting out of the shower and getting dressed you walked into the living room and turned on the television. Just as you sat down the doorbell rang. You thought it was Nichole with Jazmyne, but you were wrong. Standing in front of you with eyes full of rage was Robert. 

“Robert, what the hell are you doing here?” Before you could get an answer he came into the house and punched you across the face. You fell to the ground and he started kicking you and punching you. 

You put your hands up to defend yourself and screamed and cried for help and for him to stop. After what felt like hours, he finally left. You laid on the floor, bleeding and in so much pain. You found the strength to grab your phone and pushed the call button. 

“Hello?” The voice on the other end said. You were in and out of consciousness. You started to speak weakly, “Help me…” “Y/N!? Is that you? It was Jensen. You accidentally called Jensen. “Y/N! Answer me, what’s wrong?”

All you could get out was “Jazzy.” Before you passed out. Jensen hung up, called the headmaster at the preschool and told them what happened. They told Jensen they would call 911, he asked for your address but they wouldn’t give it to him. 

Panic filled his body. He called Jared and had him and Gen watch the kids. He was heading to the closest hospital to wait to see if you were brought there. 

The ambulance arrived and Jensen saw you. He tried to get the nurse to tell him what was going on with you, but she wouldn’t give him any information. He paced the waiting room floor and tried everything he could think of to get someone to give him information. 

About 30 minutes later he saw Jazmyne come in with a woman who was close to your age. Jazmyne immediately saw Jensen and ran to him. Nichole tried to grab her, but she was too quick. 

Jensen scooped her up and she threw her arms around his neck, “Hey Jazzy, are you okay? You’re not hurt are you?” Nichole stepped closer, “Oh hi, um how do you know Y/N and Jazzy?” “Hi, I’m Jensen. Jazzy goes to daycare with my twins, and that’s how I know Y/N. She and I just met today, but I’ve known Jazzy.” 

Nichole stretched her hand out, “Hi, I’m Nichole, Y/N’s best friend. Do you know what happened?”

“Not really. She called me and all she said was “Help me, then she said Jazzy’s name. I didn’t know her address so I called the headmaster and told her what happened. I can only assume this was her ex’s doing. She told me she kicked him out.” “She did, but I think he came back over tonight.”

Just then the doctor came out. “I’m here for the family of Ms Y/L/N” Jensen and Nichole stepped forward. “Hi, we’re her family. How is she?” “I’m Dr Fitzpatrick and I’ve been treating her. She has multiple lacerations, some broken ribs, a broken nose and orbital bone, and lots of bruising. She was beat up so badly we have to put her in a medically induced coma to help her body heal. She will be in it for a few days.” 

Jensen and Nichole gasped, “When can we see her?” Nichole asked softly. “You can see her one at a time, but I don’t recommend you take her in there.” The doctor nodded. They both nodded, “Nichole, you go and I’ll stay with Jazzy.” 

Nichole nodded, thanked Jensen and walked to your room. About 30 minutes later Nichole was walking back into the waiting room with red, puffy eyes.

Jensen walked up to her and gave her a hug. She sobbed into his chest. “Jensen, she looks so bad. How could anyone ever do something like that to her. She’s such an amazing person.” Jensen just held her tight. “Do you mind if I go see her?” He asked softly. She shook her head. 

As Jensen walked down the hallway his heart rate sped up. When he saw you laying in your bed, bloodied, bruised and broken his heart ached and anger filled his body. Robert had to pay. He sat beside your side and held your hand, “Hey Y/N, Jazzy is safe. We need you to get better. I can’t plan that playdate by myself.” He chuckled as he held you tight.

Before he left the room, he leaned over and kissed your forehead. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he felt the need to do it, “You’re safe Y/N, and so is Jazzy. I promise you both will be safe.”

Jensen walked back towards Nichole and Jazzy. He gave Nichole his number and told her if she needed anything, or any help with Jazzy to give him a call or send him a text. She nodded and said thank you. 

Jazzy clung tightly to his neck, and Nichole had to pry him off. Jensen stepped closer, “hey, Jazzy, maybe Auntie Nichole can bring you over tomorrow afternoon so you can play with the Arrow and Zeppy, would you like that? She nodded wildly, “Okay, see you tomorrow then.” 

Then Jensen was gone. A few hours later, when she was sure you were out of the woods, she and Jazzy left for the night. 

She was worried about you, but Jensen, oh Jensen was worried about you, Jazzy, and wanted to hurt Robert for hurting you. He couldn’t shake the feeling, but drove home. 

You were left laying in the bed, listening to the sounds of conversations and unable to react or speak to them. You heard Jensen, felt Jensen, and above all you felt his emotion behind his voice. That was something you were thankful to have heard and felt, at least that and Jazzy gave you something worth fighting for. 

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[impala-dreamer]

Hold On

A little comfort for anyone in pain...

Dean Winchester x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Reader, Soldier Boy x Reader

870 Words

Warnings: Unspecified Pain (chronic, injury, etc). Comfort.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn. It was barely midday, but the pain had forced you back to bed. Guilt made you get up that morning, guilt and responsibilities, but the struggle was too hard, the pain spreading down your back and through every nerve was too much to take. 

The doctor had shrugged and tossed another bottle of useless meds in your face. Some horrible pill that made your head foggy and your feet basically useless. It was bad enough that the numbness made you drop things, rending your fingers inert, but to barely be able to balance, to walk properly? It was too horrible. 

Life was flying past you and there was nothing you could do to grab hold of it and participate. Every move was agony, every time out was a guilt trip. 

Your pillow was a comfort but even laying atop the soft mattress was painful. The hurt was intense and tears sprang to your eyes as you tried to shift into a comfortable position. 

“Son of a fucking whore!” 

Your cry drew him into the room. The door creaked open and the stream of light from the hallway hit your face. You cringed and lifted a hand to block it. 

“Baby? You OK?” 

Sniffling, you cleared your throat. “Yeah. Fine. I’m fine.” 

Green eyes took in the scene and a frown curled plump lips downwards. He crossed his arms, spread his bowed legs, settled in. “Don’t look too fine to me. It’s eleven in the morning and you’re in bed.” 

The hard drop of tone and familiar inflection made you smile and reach out a hand. 

“Hey, Dean?” 

He smiled down at you and slid his palm gently against yours. “Yeah?”

“Hold me? Please?” 

“Of course…” 

Carefully, he crawled onto the bed, conscious not to jolt you around or knee you in the back as he laid behind you. His arms were warm and heavy, draping perfectly around your waist, fitting into the dip like you’d been matching puzzle pieces lost at birth. 

He pressed his chest into your back, fit his chin upon your shoulder, holding you tight. His breath was hot and comforting, scented with peanut butter. You breathed deep and for the first time all day felt the pain ease just a bit. The edge was blurring under his touch and you wished that you could stay there just like that, forever. 

Dean lifted his lips to your ear and whispered, “Better?” 

“A bit, yeah.” 

“Good.” He nuzzled in, dropping sweet kisses along your jaw and neck. Always tender, always careful not to push to hard or hold you too tight. 

“It’s gonna be OK, Y/N/N,” he said, all the faith of heaven and hell and beyond in his husky voice. “I promise.” 

Relaxation washed over you and the worst of the pain vanished. You flexed your right hand and the pins and needles slowly subsided. 

“Where you been all my life, Dean Winchester?” you asked, slowly spinning around to face him. 

He was smiling so beautifully, eyes so full of love that you nearly wept. He was perfect. He was home. 

Dean laughed gently. “Well… been busy killin’ monsters and getting impaled on a fucking peice of rebar.” Jensen rolled his eyes. “That fucking rebar…” 

It hurt to laugh, but you had too. Jensen was never, ever going to let that go.

“You should get that tattooed on your forehead. ‘Dean Deserved Better’.” 

“Yeah.” He sighed and licked his lips, hugging you close. “What about you? You really OK? Do we need to call Dr. What’sHisName?” 

Quickly, you shook your head. “No. There’s nothing he can do. I just have to ride it out, I guess.”

Jensen’s face fell, his eyes welled. “I just wish there was something I could do. I hate seeing you like this. It’s frustrating and I’m… fucking useless.” 

“Hey.” You scowled at him. “Stop that. You’re not useless. You just gave me Dean cuddles. What girl wouldn’t want that?” 

A small smile returned. “I guess. Just- I wish there was more I could do.” 

Thinking for a moment, you chewed on your lip and then grinned. “You could always have Soldier Boy come and punch my lights out so I can nap…” 

A quiet but full laugh shook his body and Jensen smacked his lips. “You don’t want that, trust me.” 

“I don’t know,” you argued with a laugh, “Ben’s got them big strong arms, super powers… Probably wouldn’t take to much to knock me out.” 

Jensen took a deep breath and squared his jaw. His brows creased, he lifted his chin just enough so that she could see her superhero. 

“I’m not gonna knock you out, doll, but nice try.” 

A shiver trekked down your spine and you pushed in close, kissing him deeply. 

Jensen moaned against you and pulled back an inch, his big hand cradling your cheek. “Whatever I can do, I will. You know that, right?” He kissed you softly. “You’re going to be OK. I promise. You just gotta hold on ‘till then.” 

“How ‘bout I hold on to you?” you whispered, fingers bunching in his shirt. 

He smiled and brushed a tear free from your eye. “Even better.” 

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[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Last Night

Summary: The reader is in for a surprise when she finds out the guy from the bar last night shows up on stage at a convention...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,100ish

Warnings: language, implied past smut

“Sara,” you said, rolling your eyes as you took a seat in the large ballroom. “I can’t believe you dragged me to this...thing.”

“Hey, I had an extra ticket. So what if you’ve never seen the show. Just enjoy the crazy,” she said.

“Sure,” you said, turning your attention to your phone, a text popping up.

Want to get together for dinner tonight? Harrison’s at nine?

Harrison’s? You got connections or something pal? That place doesn’t do last minute reservations. I might have to go buy a new dress you keep that up ;)

I would love to help you pick it out honey. Or take it off ;) 

Nine sound okay or was last night just a one and done? No hard feelings if it was.

No. I’d really love to go out with you for real. A date sounds fun. I’ll see you tonight.

Can’t wait, Y/N.

“Who are you texting?” asked Sara. “And smiling like an idiot at?”

“I have a date tonight,” you said with a shrug, Sara wide eyed. “Yes, I of all people have a date. Call the national guard. It must be the end times.”

“Is he cute? Where’d you meet?” she asked, turning her full attention on you as more people crowed in the room. “Details. Gimme.”

“Yeah, he’s good looking. We met last night at a bar just around the corner,” you said. “I don’t know a lot about him. Just there was a definite click, connection.”

“You totally slept with him!” she said, hands covering her face. “Oh my...I really am a bad influence on you.”

“Yes you are,” you said, smacking her hands away from her face. “In a good way. That thing you told me about with the...he freaking went nuts for it. I’ve never seen a guy just absolutely loving it. He did me first too. Twice!”

“Marry him. Marry him or I will,” she said, shaking her head at you, someone shushing you nearby. “It’s gonna start soon.”

I just called. Reservation is for 9:15 under Ackles.

Thanks. See you later, Mr. Ackles.

You could hear music playing as you sent your last text, finally putting your phone away and putting it on silent, people getting loud all of sudden as they said a few names you couldn’t quite make out. You winced and ducked your head down, shaking it out when it finally got quiet again.

“Well hello Vancouver!” you heard loud and clear, your eyes wide as you found the source of the voice. You blinked more than a few times, staring at the man on stage take a seat, that perfect flirty smile on he wore last night. “Who’s excited to be here?”

“Who is that? Who’s that guy in the blue flannel?” you said to Sara, her eyebrow raising.

“Jensen. He’s one of the two leads on the show,” she whispered, giving you a strange look as she read over your face. “You did not.”

“Yeah. I did,” you said. “Oh boy did I.”

A few hours later you were tucked away in your apartment, forcing yourself not to look up anything about Jensen. It was already strange. You sat through an entire panel. It was too weird and if he found out, he’d think you were some lying fan and...

“I have to cancel,” you said, going for your phone. “It’s just a guy. There’ll be another one. We haven’t even had a date yet. A drink and a little fun. That’s all it was. We can forget this all ever happened.”

Your phone rang in your hand, a name popping up that made you grimace.

“Hello?” you asked, a small waiver to your voice.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Jensen, from last night,” he said, sounding a bit nervous himself. “I uh...listen, I don’t really do what happened last night like...ever. I...that’s not who I am. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun. It was a lot of fucking fun but...I don’t know what you’re looking for and I really should have taken you out properly and everything first. I just...and I’m rambling. Awesome,” he said with a sigh.

“I was at your con today,” you blurted out. “My friend made me go. I didn’t know last night. Or even today really. I’ve never even heard of your show. I’m sure it’s great and everything but I’m not a fan. Not that I wouldn’t be a fan if I ever saw it cause I’m sure it’s great but I didn’t want you to think I was lying or...I’ve actually never hooked up with a guy. I mean I’ve done stuff with guys but like never a one night stand which I mean you weren’t right? Cause I thought maybe there might be something there and now I’m the one rambling so feel free to jump in anytime,” you said, smacking yourself in the face.

“How about we start over,” he said with a laugh. “You really weren’t the only one who thought there’s more to this than just a little bit of sex. I mean that was awesome but let’s hold off on that for a while this time.”

“Yeah, we jumped the gun a little,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“Would you still like to have dinner tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, for sure.”

Three Weeks Later

“Do you want to come over my place tomorrow for dinner?” you asked, getting a kiss on the cheek as Jensen walked you down to the parking garage after dinner.

“I’d love to honey but I have another con this weekend. How about Sunday night if it’s not too late?” he said with a smile. You nodded, Jensen giving you an odd look. “I have these things quite a bit, Y/N. It’s a part of my life.”

“I didn’t say anything. We’ll get dinner on Sunday,” you said, scrunching up your face. “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem. Not unless you think there’s one,” he said, slowing his pace as you got closer to your car.

“What problem do you think I have?” you asked, Jensen looking over your head. “Jensen.”

“We’re dating right? That means I’m with you, nobody else,” he said. You scoffed, shaking your head. “What?”

“You assume I think you sleep around at your cons,” you said, squinting up at him.

“Maybe you’ve been quiet tonight and I wanted to put your head at ease over something I thought was wrong but now I’ve just pissed you off,” he said, dropping his hand from yours. 

“Jensen,” you said, rolling your eyes, watching him take a step back. 

“Goodnight,” he said, waiting for you to get in your car. You shook your head and reached out for his hand, heading back for the elevators.

“We need to talk,” you said. “Please.”

He nodded once, quiet as you made your way back upstairs to his apartment, tucked away in a corner of his couch while he waited for you to speak.

“It’s been three weeks, Jensen. I think I know you well enough to know that you’re a gentleman and what we did was not a normal thing for either of us. You felt that same thing that I felt. I get the con thing too, sort of. I had a bad day today so that’s why I was quiet and it wasn’t something I wanted to put on you so early in this relationship,” you said.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, moving the pillow away from his lap, the hardness in his face revealing itself as worry now.

“I have to move,” you said with a sigh. “The Vancouver office is closing. We all found out today.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said, grabbing your hand so you sat next to him. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“It’s not like I lost my job but I have to move back to the states. There’s a few offices around the country but I have to make my decision this weekend and...I really like you Jensen but we’d have to go long distance and...I don’t want you to feel tied down to someone you just met when you live here and everything,” you said.

“I like feeling tied down to you though,” he said with a smile. “We can facetime and talk and text. We could get through it.”

“You really are too sweet,” you said, staring at your lap. 

“How about you spend the night? I can talk through everything with you so you can decide where you want to go,” he said. 

“Okay,” you said, leaning on his shoulder. “This is gonna suck.”

Monday Night

“So? Did you tell your boss Atlanta?” asked Jensen over dinner. You shook your head. “I thought you figured your rent would be cheapest there and you thought living in the South might be a fun change.”

“There’s a small office in Austin. It was left off the list but someone retired last week and they have one opening. I told her why not. Hey, it’s a few hours closer to Vancouver too,” you said with a smile. Jensen’s face was still blank despite what you thought he’d find to be happy news. “You’re from Dallas. Is Austin like a bad place to live or something?”

“How did I never tell you,” he said with a huge smile. “When I’m not filming, or when I just want to get away from the cold up here, I fly home to where I live in the states. In Austin.”

“Seriously?” you asked, Jensen nodding his head. “We won’t have to be long distance all the time?”

“Hiatus is soon. I mean, I figured I’d be spending a lot of time in Atlanta but Austin is a dream come true,” he said. “This won’t be so bad after all.”

One Month Later

“One everything,” said Jensen, handing over a plate with a burger on it. “Hold the tomato.”

“Thank you,” you said, sitting down on his patio chair, giving him a thumbs up as he turned off the grill. “Question. Is it ever not hot here?”

“You’ll get used to it,” he said, bopping you on the nose. “Wear your sunscreen, missy or you’ll burn. Put some aloe on those cheeks tonight.”

“So many rules,” you teased, kicking your feet up on an unused chair. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a month.”

“How’s your new office?” asked Jensen, taking a seat across from you. 

“Good. It’s more laid back down here which I like. I work my eight hours and then head home to relax,” you said. 

“You seem happier now. I like that,” he said, throwing his feet up on the same chair as yours, taking a big bite of his burger. “Okay. Tomorrow I’m taking you downtown for some of the best food of your life and then we were invited to a cook out at my friend’s place. He’s just around the corner. Oh and don’t forget to remind me about taking you boot shopping sometime.”

“I ain’t gettin’ no cowboy boots or hat, Jensen,” you said with a shake of your head. “I swear on my life, I will never own either one of those things.”

“Oh really? We’ll see about that,” he said with a smirk. “I bet you’d look adorable in the right outfit, like a born and bred Texas girl.”

“With pigtails and short shorts?” you said with a roll of your eyes, Jensen shrugging as he smiled hard. “No way. Never gonna happen.”

“You already got the short shorts on,” he said. “Side braid...you’re one bad shopping trip away from the total package.”

“You’re a super dork, Jens. Like a total and complete dork,” you said.

“I know,” he said with a wink, pulling your chair over when you started to giggle. “Come here. I missed hearing that sound in person.”

“Me too, Jensen. Thanks for turning out to be a southern gentleman and all,” you said.

“It’s my pleasure, honey.”

[littlewetbeast]

is it any surprise that so many people are so deranged about dean winchester. he is a silly little man who likes to wear funny hats and all he wants is to be loved and he grew up abused and deprived and had to be a parent before he could be a kid. dean who is undeniably queer and just wants a happy ending for him and his little makeshift family. played by jensen ackles who has the face of a fucking god who cries perfect pearly tears and looks like a baroque painting when he’s got large bloody gashes across his forehead. the perfect hodgepodge of incredibly appealing and relatable characteristics while also being completely out of this world. i may be a casgirl first and foremost but dean is. dean is just. dean is. he just is

[thelibrarylesstrektraveled]

Nightingale Chapter Sixteen - The Fourth Wall

Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Sixteen: The Fourth Wall

Word Count: 4176

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing!

Masterlist

Nightingale Masterlist

     Both your phone and Jensen’s buzzed at the same time.  You knew who it was before you even looked.

     “Solomon,” he said, scrolling through the details of the text.  “Jesus.  This itinerary reads like a weekend convention circuit.  Seriously, who goes out this much?”

     “Breakfast and strolling at the Ester Short Park farmer’s market.  Tour of the Van Dusen Botanical Gardens.  Coffee at Shaughnessy’s.  Window shopping downtown.  Couples’ yoga.  Oohh!  Tickets to Hamilton on Friday night!”

     Jensen’s brow crinkled and those little disapproving brackets appeared at the corners of his mouth.  “Yoga?  Seriously?  I don’t have that…”

     You lifted a shoulder in a shrug, “Couples Tantric Yoga at Good Vibrations Studios.  Wow… the room is heated to 105 degrees to sweat in tandem with your partner.  Open your chakras and your bodies to this intimate practice first discovered in the unpublished Kama Sutra.  Wow, I didn’t know they bent that way…”

     That had him grabbing your phone.  “Seriously?!  Fucking Solomon signed us up for sweaty sex yoga?!” 

     The indignant bluster blew out of his sails a moment later and you broke into laughter. 

     “You’re hilarious,” he deadpanned.

     Your mischievous grin only grew, “You seem disappointed!  Why don’t we call and see if they can squeeze us in to the class on Sunday?”

     You made a grab for the phone, and he held it over his head, out of reach.  Dodging your hands and tickling you at the same time.  Your attempts to tickle him back had no effect and only made him double his efforts.  Torturing you until you were practically crying with giggles.  Suddenly, he hoisted you over his shoulder, bouncing you a bit as he walked through the apartment. 

     “Jensen!  That’s cheating!”  You laughed as you squirmed in his grasp.

     He tossed you down on the bed in a giggling mess then threw himself down beside you.  “There’s no cheating when there’s no rules, Sweetheart.”

     You tried to catch your breath as he moved strands of blonde hair away from your face.  “You aren’t even ticklish.”

     “Used to be, my older brother would sit on me and torture tickle me until I peed my pants.”

     “How’d you get over it?”

     “I found ways to distract myself,” he murmured, his eyes flickering over your face. 

     “Mind over matter?”

     “Something like that.”

     The two of you had shared countless kisses, but you never grew tired of them.  Your heartrate kicked up the moment his lips touched yours, excitement heating your blood the same today as it did the first time.  His strong hands roamed your body, seeking out the secret places that responded so readily.  You yielded to his touch and surrendered on a sigh. 

     He ended the kiss before he could get too carried away.  The FBI had the whole place bugged and the two of you agreed early on that there would be no sex until this mess was behind you.   He pulled you up against him and placed a kiss to your hairline.

     “Better?”

     You nodded, relaxing into his embrace.  Your eyes closed as he threaded his fingers through your hair and gently massaged the nape of your neck.  He always did that when your migraines were bad.  Once your concussion healed, they were practically gone but with all the stress of the investigation, they were back with a vengeance. 

     “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his chest.  “About earlier.”

     “It was an understandable reaction, that guy came up out of nowhere.  I didn’t even see him come up behind us.”

     “I nearly had a panic attack in the middle of the street.  I probably traumatized your poor fans.”

     “Yeah, well I traumatize them every Thursday night so, they’re used to it by now,” Jensen joked, moving his hand to stroke your back.  “How can I help, baby?  Tell me what I can do to make it better.”

     “I don’t know if it can get much better.  I mean, Solomon sends us pictures of the under-cover agents every day.  Both of us are wearing tracking devices.  This place is completely wired and under surveillance.  Everything we do is planned out to the last detail.  I know we are as safe as we can be I just… I can’t stop thinking about him.”  Your chest immediately grew tight, and you fought to keep your breathing under control.

     “Every time we leave this apartment, I’m looking for him.  I’m searching the faces of everyone we pass, wondering if the next one I see will be his.  I feel like a little kid, scared of the boogey man is hiding in the closet!”

     “Is that why you’ve been leaving the bathroom light on at night?”

     “Maybe,” you muttered.  “I know it’s stupid.”

     “It’s justified.”

     “Maybe,” you said again.  “I wish I could be as calm as you are in crowds.  It never seems to rattle you.”

     “Oh, I’m rattled, believe me.  But I’ve got a job to do, and I just focus on it.  Nothing is more important than that, everything else falls away.”

     “You mean acting?”

     “I mean taking care of you,” he curled a finger under your chin, coaxing your gaze to meet his.  “We’re in it together.  Every day, it’s you and me, Sweetheart.”

     “Stronger together.”  You said it at the same time he did.  It had become your mantra over the past two weeks. 

     It was your prayer to each other.  You said every time you set foot outside of the safety bubble of your apartment.  Every time the two of you stopped for pictures with fans.  Every time the paparazzi followed the two of you through a public park or into a restaurant.  Every time you needed reassurance, Jensen would squeeze your hand and whisper it in your ear. 

     It worked well to calm your nerves.  At first.  But as time dragged on with no sign of Arthur Green, the pressure and anxiety built.  You were jumpy, bordering on paranoid.  When that aggressive fan popped up as you were crossing the boulevard, it triggered a reaction so severe that Jensen’s magic phrase didn’t work.  You were so shaken up that the two of you went directly home, despite not completing the daily agenda.

     “I just wish I could do a better job in all this.  I know I’m supposed to look happy and carefree… Green’s never going to show himself if he thinks this is a trap.”  You sighed and fiddled with the buttons on Jensen’s shirt.  “I’ve never had much of a poker face.”

     “Everyone has a poker face; you just have to find your focus.  That’s all acting is, really.  Keeping your focus.”

     “I guess that’s why you’re the actor and I’m the doctor.”

     A thoughtful look crossed his face, as if he’d just realized the answer to a difficult crossword.  His clear, green eyes lit with enthusiasm, and he sat up, tugging you with him.

     “Come on, I’ve got an idea.”

     “What are we doing in your closet?” You asked from your cross-legged position on the carpeted floor.

     Jensen closed the door and stuffed a rolled-up towel against the threshold so that not even a sliver of light could peek through.  “We’re creating the fourth wall.”

     “What?”

     He walked to the bank of drawers along the back wall and searched through the contents.  “It’s an old actor’s trick, you’ll see.”

     He returned with one of his silk ties in his hand.  It was a subtle blue on blue paisley pattern that he wore on one of your dates ages ago.

     He handed it to you and sat on the floor across from you, folding his bowed legs up with a grunt. 

     “I love this tie.”

     “I know you do,” he smiled softly at you.  “Do you remember that night?  That little Italian place around the corner from your hospital?”

     “Of course, I do.”

     It had been a week since you and Jensen reconciled.  You held strong to your decision not to move back in with him.  You were determined to take things slow and not fall back into old patterns.  You wanted this to last, you both did and that meant rebuilding trust.  The man didn’t make it easy though! 

     For his part, Jensen was the perfect gentleman.  Sweet, attentive, respectful, funny, charming.  Good morning texts and calls during his down time on set.  He invited you over for dinner midweek, made your favorite spaghetti and even sent you home with leftovers for lunch.  There were bone melting kisses and hand holding, but he never initiated anything more.  He wanted you to set the pace. 

     On Friday, you arrived at work and found a shallow planter the size of a hubcap overflowing with an array of tiny, blue flowers waiting for you.  Along with a card.

     Have a great day, gorgeous! – Love, J

     Val came up beside you, her eyes wide, “Wow!  Who sent you those?”

     You grinned and ran your fingers over the bright, bell-shaped blossoms.  “They’re from Jensen.”

     “Really?  Anniversary or apology?”

     You slipped the small card into the pocket of your lab coat, “Neither.”

     “Come on, he must have done something.  No guy sends…. What kind of flowers are they?”

     “Bluebonnets.  Texas Bluebonnets.”

     “Right.  Anyway, there’s a reason for them.  You just don’t know what it is yet.”

     You floated through your whole shift.  Not even Val’s cynicism could dampen your mood.  You didn’t have time to send Jensen anything more than a thank you text, but you were determined to show your appreciation.  Maybe you’d invite him over for dinner at your place.  Best to order in, given your abysmal cooking skills.  Or maybe just dessert…

     You were just about to clock out when you were paged over the intercom.  You picked up line four holding for you.

     “This is Doctor Baines.”

     “Gabs?”

     “Tony, what’s up?”

     “I need you for a consult, do you have a few minutes?”

     “Sure.”

     “Great.  Cardiology, Room 202.”

     A few short minutes later you opened the door to 202, instead of a cardiac patient, you found Jensen.  Looking like he just stepped out of the pages of GQ.  His dark blue suit was tailored, pressed and perfect.  Crisp shirt, matching blue tie and a trio of bluebonnets in his lapel.

     He smiled in that way that made his eyes crinkle and made you melt.  “Hiya Sweetheart.”

     You leaned against the door so that it clicked behind you.  “Mr. Ackles.  You are looking remarkably well for a man in the cardiac ward.”

     “Oh, I’m in rough shape, doc.”  He placed a dramatic hand over his heart.  “My ticker’s going crazy!”

     You bit your bottom lip; he really was too cute!  “Is that so?”

     “Yeah!  Every time I see this girl, it’s like my heart’s going to beat right out of my chest.”

     “Sound serious.”

     “You think so?”

     “Heart palpitations are nothing to dismiss out of hand.”  You pulled your stethoscope from around your neck, “I think I better check you over.”

     “I was thinking the same thing,” he drawled.

     You placed a hand in the center of his chest and firmly walked him backwards, your gaze holding his until the back of his legs bumped the exam table.  Wordlessly, you patted the table.  He lifted himself up with ease, the sterile paper crinkled under his weight. 

     “I hope you won’t mind if I get a little… close,” you said, gently urging his knees apart so you could stand in the vacant space between his legs. 

     His voice dipped deep.  “I’m in your hands.”

     You started with his tie, reaching up to loosen the perfectly executed knot.  A tug and the fine fabric came free easily.  It sounded like a hushed whisper as it moved against the starched shirt to pool in your hand.  His Adam’s apple bobbed as you moved on to the tiny button holding the collar closed.  You knew if you looked at him, your resolve would evaporate, so you concentrated on your task.  Button by button.  Inch by inch.  You stopped halfway to put the earpieces in place and warm the bell of the stethoscope with your breath. 

     You slid the bell against the taut, tanned skin of his pectoral and let it rest over his heart.  A smile curved your lips as you heard his heart thumping, strong and steady.  No better sound in the world.  Although, the longer you kept your hand there, the faster that rhythm got.

     “Your heartrate is elevated.”

     “What do I do, doc?”

     “A little test, see how you respond to stimuli.”

     “Sounds intense.”

     This time you risked looking up, those green eyes of his had turned a shade darker and you felt your own heart leap in response. 

     “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 

     Keeping the bell anchored over his heart, you leaned up and captured his lips with your own.  Kissing Jensen was as much a revelation today as it was the first time.  He expressed so many things in those moments of intense connection.  Passion and joy.  Exuberant love, romance… sharp desire.  Solace and devotion.  It was the language spoken by souls that met and matched. 

     The kiss deepened, his arms went around you and the staccato beat faster through the earpieces as his heart picked up pace.  Urgency grew.

     You nipped his bottom lip slightly as you pulled away, earning a groan from him.  “You’re killing me, Sweetheart.”

     “Not today.  I can confirm, your heart is in perfect working order.”

     “Good thing, I kinda need it.”  He snagged the stethoscope from you with a smirk, “My turn.”

     Not one to shrink from a challenge, you hopped up beside him, “Do your worst, Doctor Ackles.”

     Somehow, he made the mundane tools of your profession look incredibly sexy.  You didn’t exactly have a doctor kink, but you’d develop one in a hurry if he kept it up.  A serious look swept over his features, and you knew you were in trouble.  In measured movements, he slipped his hand holding the bell under the scoop neckline of your shirt. 

     You knew the moment he found his mark because his face transformed to reflect wonder.  It was an incredibly intimate act to hear the life thrumming in another human being.  He simply listened, as if he was trying to memorize it, hear the music of it.  You were so mesmerized by his experience that you failed to notice his other hand until it found your breast.

     You gasped. 

     His eyebrows rose a fraction, but did not move his hand, “Everything okay?”

     At your nod, he smiled and continued.  Monitoring your heartrate as he explored the curves and concaves he knew so well.  Noting how the rhythm increased when he ran his thumb over the nipple straining under the layers of cotton.  How the beat skipped when his tongue found that secret place just below your earlobe.  Hot kisses down the column of your neck to the hollow where your clavicles met brought your hands up to rake through his hair.  He sucked the skin slightly while his hand traced the inner line of your leg.  Your heart galloped along wildly and when he palmed you through your scrubs, you breathed his name.

     Your head fell back, “Jensen…”

      An annoying beep from his jacket pocket that broke the spell.  He stopped ravishing you long enough to check his phone, “Ooh!  We gotta go!”

     You sat up dazed and trying to catch your breath, “Go?  Now?”

     He hopped off the table and straightened his suit, smoothing out the wrinkles caused by your make-out session.

     “Reservations at Marco’s.”

     You eyed him suspiciously, “You… did you deliberately get me all excited just to tease me?”

     His shrug was innocent, but the sparkle in his eyes gave him away.  He held a hand to you, “I just wanted to make sure you had a good appetite worked up.”

     You took his hand and narrowed your blue eyes at him, “Okay.  But we’re getting dessert to go!”

     “Only if you bring your stethoscope, doc,” he replied while brushing a kiss across your knuckles with a wink.

     “When I was twenty-eight, I was in a live production of A Few Good Men.  I hadn’t performed on stage like that since high school.  And I was really nervous, like shaking in my boots, throwing up backstage terrified!  My parents were there, Danneel was there…  a ton of Supernatural fans showed up too.”

     “You had stage fright?  But you’d been an actor for… what, a decade at that point?”

     “Television is different.  If I screw up, we can just do another take.  A live performance takes a different level of concentration.  People in the audience whisper or forget to turn off their phones.  Someone drops something backstage, or your co-star forgets their lines.  Anything can happen.  That’s where the fourth wall comes in, imagine there is an invisible wall between you and the audience.  That the stage is a completely enclosed.  It’s your world, nothing else exists.  Its just you and whoever you are sharing that stage with.”

     You looked down at the blue tie in your hands, “That sounds like something that comes with practice.  It took you years to perfect your craft, I can’t get to that level in an afternoon.”

     “It’s simpler than you think.  Acting is really just reacting,” he said with a smile, “Besides, you had plenty of cram sessions in med school.”

     “I suppose so.”

     “Good.  Now, I want you to look around this space.  Commit the details of it to memory.  Wall color, carpet color, shelves, racks, shoes… all of it.  Everything you can see.”

     You tried to give him back the tie, thinking it wasn’t part of the exercise and he shook his head, “Nuh uh.  You keep that, you’ll need it.”

     Your brow furrowed slightly, wrapping the tie around your left hand nervously.  You felt like you were failing, and you hadn’t even started.

     Jensen reached out and stilled your hands with his own, “Hey, deep breath.  There’s nothing to worry about.  It’s just you and me here, this is our own little world.  Everything outside that door, that’s them.  No one else can come in here, ever.  We’re safe here.  Just you and me.”

     “Stronger together,” you murmured.

     “Stronger together,” he repeated back.  “Close your eyes.”

     You did as instructed.  He released your hands and sat back, “Deep breath, in and out.  Again.  Good girl, relax.  Let the tension melt from your muscles and drain away.  Deep breath… good.  Very good.”

     You loved his voice; it was warm and had a deep resonance that put you at ease.  The cadence of his instructions had an almost hypnotic quality and you felt yourself sinking into it. 

     “How do you feel?”

     “Good,” you said with a sigh, “Kind of floaty.”

     “The tie in your hands.  How does it feel?”

     You rubbed the material between your fingers, “Smooth.  Cool, like a mountain lake.”

     “Good,” he praised again.  “Now, I want you to picture the closet in your mind.  Put it together with the details you saw only moments ago.”

     You frowned slightly, rubbing the silk in your hands like a worry stone.

     “It’s just you and me here, Y/N.  It’s our world, our safe place.  Tell me what you see.”

     “Clothes.”

     He waited a beat, “Anything else?”

     “Um… the door?”

     “Dig a little deeper, Harvard.”

     “My annoying boyfriend.”

     Jensen held back a sigh, determined not to break the spell.  “Try scent, how does it smell?”

     “Good,” you huffed out in frustration.  The tension was building back up in your shoulders and your ass was starting to fall asleep from sitting on the floor.  You found yourself wondering if it was too late to run away to Bermuda.  You took another deep breath and caught something you hadn’t noticed before.

     “Cedar.  You keep those little cedar balls in the sock drawer.”

     “Yeah, I do.”

     “Tom Ford… um… that vanilla one I like.”

     He grinned, you told him it was your favorite and he bought three bottles just to make sure he always had some on hand.  “Vanilla Tobacco.”

     “Fabric softener, there are dryer sheets in the vents… and there is an air vent somewhere behind me, its blowing on my shirt.  The woodwork in here is light, the rest of the apartment is dark, in here it’s not.  Your clothes are arranged by type and then by color.  Same for the shoes, which you have an insane amount of.  Everything is on those expensive hangers you love so much.  Oh!  And you have two whole drawers devoted to watches.”

     “Good job, open your eyes, Sweetheart.”

     As you did, he took the tie from your hands and cut it neatly in half with his pocketknife.

     “Jay!”

     He took your left arm and tied the narrow end around your wrist, “This tie is your tether to this space.  Every time you feel anxious or scared, I want you to feel that silk against your skin and remember how it felt to be here.  Come back to this safe place where it’s just you and me.”

     He held the other half of the tie out to you along with his left arm.  You followed his example and fastened it around his wrist to match yours.  When you were done, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

     “Thank you,” you whispered.

     Jensen pulled you down to sit on his lap and held you close.

     “I’ve got you,” he vowed, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “Always.”

     Three days later, you and Jensen were at yet another public outing.  This time it was Shakespeare in the park.  At this point you were so sick of concerts, romantic dinners, and date nights that you were ready to tear your hair out.  At least it was your favorite play, Much Ado About Nothing.  Comedy always beats tragedy. 

     The place was packed, no surprise given the beautiful weather.  There were vendors selling everything from Italian Ice to Chicken and Waffles on a stick.  Street musicians busked, kids played in the fountain, couples necked under shade trees, dogs trotted along happily with their owners.  It was idyllic.

     Maybe it was the sunshine or the actor’s trick Jensen taught you, either way, you felt good.  Relaxed.  Even when a group of fans gathered around for pictures and autographs, you felt centered and calm. 

     “Oh my gosh!  You two are so cute together!”  A younger girl gushed.

     “Can we get your picture too?” another asked you, “Are you really a doctor?”

     Jensen pulled you to his side and slung an arm around your shoulders, while you smiled up at him. It was your typical couple in love pose.  He kissed your temple and every girl in eyesight sighed. 

     “I am a doctor.  As a matter of fact, you should get your friend there some water and shade,” you replied motioning to a swaying, giggling girl heading for the margarita truck.  “Maybe no more alcohol for today?”

     “Check out my girl,” Jensen said as the group wandered happily away, “Signing autographs, saving lives.”

     “Saving her from a hangover maybe,” you replied, lacing your fingers through his as you strolled.  “People tend to underestimate the effects of drinking on days like this.”

     “We’ve got about ten more minutes before the intermission is over, want to head back?”

     “Yeah, um maybe hit the bathroom first?”

     You entered the surprisingly empty ladies’ room while Jensen waited for you just outside the door.  You couldn’t wait for this FBI business to be over so you could go to the bathroom alone, like a normal person. 

     You were just washing your hands when the door swung open and a couple of the girls from the earlier group stumbled in, including the drunk one.  You gave a polite nod and stepped out of their way, but it wasn’t quick enough to avoid a collision.  The three of you ended up in a tangle on the floor, two of them giggling and you, definitely not.   

     “Are you two alright,” you asked, trying to keep your composure.

     The tipsy girl threw her head back and laughed, rolling back on the floor.  The other one shook her head in disgust.

     “Ugh, Jesus Suzie!  Bitch never could hold her booze.”

     You felt dizzy.  And unbearably hot!  You tried to get up, but your muscles didn’t respond.  Something wasn’t right. 

     You called for Jensen, but your tongue was heavy in your mouth.  All that came out was a garbled mess.  You felt your heart begin to race as you panicked and your vision blurred.

     “Gee, you seem a little green around the gills, Doctor West.”

     The sober girl was standing at one of the sinks, studying her face in the mirror as she spoke.  Her clothes hung loose on her long, wiry frame.  Choppy black hair framed a thin face with severe features.  Dark eyes, nearly black.  Eyes that were normally behind glasses. 

     Arthur.  “Oh… God.”

     Green dropped to the balls of his feet, a lethal grin twisted his face as he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back. 

      “Hello again, Y/N.”