#jesen ackles

[blueravenwolf]

Three handsome men whom i adore! Especially Jensen and Misha!

JIBCON 15

Look at Jackles happy face.

[girlblogging24]

Why is Soldier Boy more passionate than we think? ₊˚⊹♡

1. The scene with the ladies is not that of a purely aggressive man in bed.

✦ People make jokes about being a "granny fucker," but if you think about it, Soldier Boy wasn't just blowing off steam with them, he seemed to be enjoying the moment.

✦ Butcher hints that he's been with them for a while, implying that he's not a guy who finishes quickly and leaves, but really takes his time.

✦ His comment about the old wine shows that he doesn't just see women as objects, but appreciates a certain experience and confidence in them.

2. His masculinity is not that of an ordinary fuckboy.

✦ He is not Homelander, who only seeks to satisfy his own ego. Soldier Boy is a guy who needs dominance and control, but also validation.

✦ For someone who was raised in a militaristic, macho environment, sex is a form of connection, though he would never admit it.

✦ While he is territorial and brusque, he also likes to be admired, desired, and to feel that his partner really wants him.

3. His strength is a real limitation, so he has to control his impulses.

✦ He is an extremely powerful Supe. If he were completely wild, he would break any human partner.

✦ This means he has to restrain himself, be aware of his strength, and take care of his partner without appearing to be "treating her gently."

✦ That mix of roughness with self-control makes his style intense but with a level of respect and care for his partner.

₊˚⊹♡

Soldier Boy is the typical man who acts like an emotionless bastard, but in reality he is a passionate, protective and possessive lover. He's not a romantic with pretty words, but his love is felt in the details: how he holds you, how he protects you, how he makes you feel wanted without it being just a power play.

So yes: tough on the street, but a passionate lover in bed (with enough self-control not to break you in two).

₊˚⊹♡

[revyuniverse]

Screenshots of Dean and Sam Winchester - Season 1 - Pilot

[lila-lou]

✨Rise and Shine, Darling - 1/5✨

Summary: You play for the love of it. He hears something more. A chance meeting, a shared song, and a connection neither of you expected. Music brought you together. Now it might change everything.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2812

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

Music had always been your world. Late nights in the studio, early mornings chasing inspiration, and afternoons lost in the hum of a guitar. You weren’t famous—not yet—but people were starting to notice. Industry whispers called you the next big thing, and your songs were beginning to make waves beyond the small, intimate venues you loved playing.

That’s how you ended up here—another bar, another setlist, another night pouring your soul into melodies for a crowd of strangers. You didn’t mind. If anything, you thrived on it. The music industry was ruthless, but up on stage, with the warm glow of the spotlight and the weight of a guitar against your body, you felt untouchable.

Tonight was no different. You played your heart out, let the lyrics bleed into the mic, and when the final note faded into silence, the crowd erupted in applause. A genuine one. Not just polite claps—actual appreciation. That was all you ever wanted.

As you packed up your gear, a deep voice cut through the noise.

"That was incredible".

You turned, expecting another fan, maybe a fellow musician. Instead, you found yourself staring up at a man who looked vaguely familiar—tall, sharp-jawed, with striking green eyes that held an easy confidence. There was something rugged about him, like he belonged in an old western movie instead of a bar.

"Thanks", you said, slinging your guitar strap over your shoulder. "You a musician?".

He let out a short laugh. "Something like that".

You raised a brow. "That doesn’t sound convincing".

He grinned. "Well, I’ve got a band. Radio Company".

The name rang a faint bell, but you weren’t sure if you’d heard their music. You shrugged. "Cool. You local?".

His smile widened, like you had just said something funny. "Something like that", he repeated. "Jensen, by the way". He extended a hand.

You shook it, his grip firm and warm. "Y/N".

"Y/N", he echoed, like he was testing how it sounded. "Well, Y/N, I think you might be the most talented person I’ve seen in a long time".

You felt heat rise to your cheeks but kept your composure. Compliments were nice, but they didn’t pay the bills. "That so?".

He nodded. "Yeah. And I’d love to jam with you sometime".

There was something genuine in his tone—no arrogance, no empty industry promises. Just curiosity. Interest.

You tilted your head. "You don’t even know if we’d sound good together".

"True", Jensen admitted, "but I’ve got a feeling about you".

You studied him for a moment. There was something intriguing about him, something effortless in the way he carried himself. He wasn’t trying to impress you—he was just him.

Maybe, just maybe, this was a risk worth taking. "Alright, Jensen", you said.

You followed Jensen toward the bar, weaving through the thinning crowd. The air smelled like old wood and spilled whiskey, the soft hum of conversation filling the space where your music had been just moments before.

He slid onto a barstool, motioning for you to take the seat beside him. You hesitated for a brief second before taking a seat. “What are you drinking?”, he asked, signaling the bartender.

“Whiskey, neat”, you said without missing a beat.

His lips quirked into a smirk. “Didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of girl”.

You shrugged. “Goes with the job, I guess. Late nights, music, bars—it just fits”.

Jensen nodded approvingly as the bartender placed two glasses in front of you. He raised his in a casual toast. “To good music and blind collaborations”.

You clinked your glass against his before taking a slow sip, the burn familiar, comforting. “So, what’s your deal, Jensen? You always scout musicians at dive bars?”.

He let out a low chuckle. “Not usually. Honestly, I just came here for a drink, but then you got up on stage, and—”. He shook his head slightly, like he was still processing it. “You’ve got something real. It’s rare to see someone play like that—like they mean every damn word”.

The compliment settled deep in your chest, warm and unexpected. You’d heard praise before, sure, but something about the way he said it—so sure, so matter-of-fact—made it feel different.

“You talk like you know what that feels like”, you mused, swirling the amber liquid in your glass.

Jensen exhaled a short laugh. “Yeah. Been in this business a long time, in one way or another”.

You raised a brow. “That so? And what exactly do you do?”.

For a split second, something flickered across his face—amusement, maybe? Surprise? But just as quickly, it was gone.

“You really don’t know, do you?”, he asked, leaning back against the bar.

You frowned. “Should I?”.

He let out another chuckle, shaking his head. “Nah, I kind of like it. Keeps things interesting”.

Now you were curious. You narrowed your eyes, studying him. He did look familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it. Maybe he was some underground artist? A producer? Either way, he wasn’t offering up the information, and you weren’t the type to beg for answers.

“So, you’ve got a band”, you said instead, shifting the conversation back to music. “What kind of sound?”.

“Bit of rock, bit of blues”, he said, taking a sip of his drink. “You’d probably like it”.

“Cocky”.

“Confident”, he corrected with a grin.

You smirked, shaking your head. “I’ll be the judge of that”.

Jensen leaned in slightly, his tone turning teasing. “Oh yeah? And what happens if you do like it?”.

You met his gaze, holding it steady. “Then maybe I’ll consider jamming with you”.

His smirk deepened. “Guess I better make a good impression, then”.

The two of you had talked for over two hours, and somehow, the time had slipped by unnoticed. The conversation had flowed effortlessly, covering everything from music influences to the worst gigs you’d ever played. He found himself enjoying it more than he expected. Not just because you were talented, but because you were real. No pretentious industry talk, no calculated charm, just you.

By the time the bar had started to quiet down, Jensen had done something he never did. He handed you his number. His actual number, not his manager’s, not his assistant’s, but his own.

You didn’t seem to think much of it, just stored it in your phone with an easy smile, but as he left the bar and headed for his car, Jensen couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just done something very unlike himself.

Sure, you were good—really damn good. That kind of raw talent was rare, and he had no doubt that in a year, maybe even less, your name would be everywhere. And yeah, it’d be nice to say he was a part of it, maybe work on a song or two, collaborate while you were still on the rise.

But that didn’t explain why he gave you his personal number. It wasn’t like him.

The thought stuck with him as he drove home—home being a secluded house he’d bought in Austin just a few weeks ago, under the radar. He had told himself he needed a change of pace, a place to breathe, a way to just be Jensen instead of the guy everyone else expected him to be.

As he pulled into his driveway, he leaned back against the seat and exhaled. You were twenty-five. That was twenty-two years younger than him. Damn. That should’ve made him stop and think, should’ve been a flashing neon sign in his mind telling him to leave it at a professional level.

But then, it wasn’t like he was interested—not like that.

He just wanted to sing with you, that’s all. See what you could do together. Maybe guide you a little, help you navigate an industry that chewed people up and spat them out before they even knew what hit them.

That’s all it was.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he shut off the engine and stepped inside. But even as he kicked off his boots and sank onto the couch, his mind drifted back to you—your laugh, the way you talked about music like it was stitched into your very bones, the spark in your eyes when you challenged him.

And before he could stop himself, he pulled out his phone. His fingers hovered over the screen, debating, before he typed out a simple message. "Had a good time talking tonight. Let me know when you wanna jam".

He stared at it for a second, then hit send before he could overthink it. Setting the phone down, he ran a hand over his face with a quiet chuckle. What the hell was he doing? He had sent the text without thinking too much about it, but now, as the seconds ticked by, he wondered if he should’ve just left things as they were.

It wasn’t that he regretted giving you his number—there was something refreshing about you, something real. But he also knew how this kind of thing played out. He had been through it too many times.

Ever since his divorce over two years ago, the media had been relentless. Every single time he was seen with a woman, they slapped a headline on it. "Jensen Ackles' New Mystery Girlfriend?" or "Supernatural Star Spotted With Possible Love Interest!". It was exhausting. Hell, sometimes he didn’t even know the woman they were talking about—just someone he had been standing next to at an event.

That’s why he had bought the house in Austin under wraps.

LA, where he lived the last two years, had been suffocating. Every time he stepped outside, someone had a camera in his face, trying to get a shot they could sell to some gossip site. Austin was home—had always been home—and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. So far, he had managed to stay under the radar. No one knew he had moved back. No press, no fans, no unwanted attention. Just peace.

His phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts.

You: Had a great time talking too! I’m in town for another week before I head to Tennessee for some small gigs.

Jensen grinned slightly as he read the message. You were casual about it, no pressure, no expectations. He liked that.

Jensen: Good to know. Let’s find some time before you leave.

He hesitated for a second before adding—

Jensen: If you’re free tomorrow, I’ve got a private studio we can mess around in. No pressure, just music.

He hit send and leaned back, waiting. A few minutes passed before his phone lit up again.

You: That sounds amazing! I’m free in the afternoon. Just tell me where.

He smiled to himself before typing back.

Jensen: I’ll send you the address in the morning. See you then.

As he locked his phone and set it on the table, he exhaled deeply. This was not something he did. He didn’t just meet random people in bars and invite them into his life. He was careful, had to be careful. And yet, here he was.

Maybe it was because he knew you’d be big in no time, and he liked the idea of being part of something at the start. Maybe it was because he missed the rush of making music with someone new. Or maybe—just maybe—it was something else entirely.

Either way, there was no turning back now.

The morning passed quickly. Jensen had sent you the location of the studio—a small, private spot outside the city, one that was his. Not some big-label, high-end place, just a little tucked-away haven where he could mess around with music without anyone knowing where he was.

When you arrived that afternoon, the sun was just starting to dip, casting golden light over the quiet streets. The studio wasn’t flashy, just a simple brick building with a single black door. It wasn’t the kind of place you’d expect someone famous to use—which was probably the point.

You hesitated only for a second before knocking. A few moments later, the door swung open, and there he was—Jensen.

“Hey”, he greeted, stepping aside to let you in. He was dressed casually, just a plain t-shirt and jeans, but something about the way he carried himself made it clear he was used to standing out.

“Hey”, you replied, stepping inside.

The studio was simple but comfortable. Warm lighting, a couple of guitars leaning against the walls, a piano in the corner, and a setup that told you he took this seriously. He shut the door behind you, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hope you didn’t have trouble finding the place. It’s kind of out of the way”.

You shook your head. “Nah, it was easy. Looks like you’ve got yourself a nice setup here”.

Jensen grinned. “Yeah, well, I needed a place where I could just mess around without anyone breathing down my neck”. He gestured toward the couch near the recording area. “Make yourself at home. Want a drink? Coffee? Water?”.

“Water’s good”, you said, dropping your bag beside the couch.

Jensen grabbed a bottle from the mini fridge, tossing it your way before taking a sip of his own drink. “So”, he leaned against the counter, smirking slightly, “you ready to see if we sound good together?”.

You grinned. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”.

He chuckled, pushing off the counter and grabbing an acoustic guitar. “Alright then, let’s see what we’ve got".

It started simple—just a few strums, testing the waters. Jensen played a few chords, humming a melody under his breath. You listened, tapping your fingers against your knee, picking up on the rhythm.

Then you started to sing. The moment your voice filled the space, Jensen froze. He had known you were talented—he wouldn’t have invited you here otherwise. But hearing you like this? Unfiltered, raw, no bar noise, no distractions? Damn.

Jensen found himself caught up in the moment, the music pulling him in effortlessly. It had been a long time since he felt this connected while playing with someone else. Usually, jamming with other artists was just that—music, rehearsed and structured. But this? This was different.

Without thinking, he started singing. His voice blended into the melody, deep and rich, weaving through the spaces between your lyrics like it had always belonged there. And the second he did, something in your chest tightened.

The moment his voice hit that perfect harmony, a chill ran down your spine, goosebumps breaking out across your arms. You weren’t sure if it was the way your voices blended, the natural ease of it, or the sheer undeniable chemistry between the two of you, but something about it felt right.

Jensen must’ve noticed your reaction because when you both hit the final note, he pulled back slightly, watching you with a knowing smirk. “You felt that, didn’t you?”, he asked, voice laced with something between amusement and curiosity.

You exhaled, blinking as if shaking off whatever spell had just taken over. “Yeah”, you admitted, still a little breathless. “That was insane”.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it was”.

There was a beat of silence—not awkward, just heavy. Like both of you were processing whatever the hell had just happened.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes still on you. “So, tell me—does it always feel like that when you sing with someone, or am I just special?”.

The teasing lilt in his voice made you roll your eyes, but deep down, you knew the truth. It had never felt like this before. Not with anyone. But you weren’t about to tell him that.Instead, you smirked, playing along. “You’re alright, Jensen. I guess you can keep up”.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Damn. Tough crowd”.

You glanced at the guitar in his hands, still feeling the electricity from what had just happened. “We should record that”, you said, your voice more serious now. “Whatever that was? We need to get that down before it disappears”.

Jensen’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “Yeah”, he nodded. “Yeah, we do”.

And just like that, the moment wasn’t just a moment anymore. It was the beginning of something.

———————————

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

-

Part 2

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick @lmg14

[brightlilith]

Poisons served for breakfast

Masterlist | Supernatural - Masterlist | Jensen Ackles | Navigation

Support me ;)

In Another Universe - Masterlist

Jensen Ackles x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Friends to lovers, Enemies to lovers

Sumarry: In a witch hunt that went horribly wrong, the reader goes to another universe, where her life is just an act, (and where the handsome green-eyed hunter she has a crush on doesn't hate her), desperate, she tries to return home, but does she really want to?

4. The abyss ➝ 6. Salem!

Warning; Reader forgetting, swear words (few), Salem, References to Just Add Magic, more?

A/N: English ins't my fist language, bad English, sorry. There may still be some errors, sorry again. If you have an idea and want me to add it to the story, send me a message with your idea and I will be happy to make it happen.😊 Constructive criticism and supportive messages are always welcome, it motivates me to keep writing.

I could finally breathe.

I opened my eyes quickly and sat up.

I was still in the room, looking around I could see that it was almost morning.

"2:59 AM." - I whispered to myself. "Was it all a dream?"

I felt tears falling.

I was crying...

I got up from the bed, my body moving on its own, receiving no command from me no matter how hard I tried.

I was in front of his door, I could tell after giving up trying to get my body back into my own bed.

I knocked softly on his door, it was silent, he probably won't open it.

"Sweetheart? What are you doing here at 3:00 in the morning?" - He said with a yawn, his eyes wide open, and hair messy, but he soon woke up after seeing that I was crying. - What happened, Sweetheart? Why are you crying?.

I just looked at him, I couldn't speak, he just pulled me into his arms, he mumbled something that I couldn't understand because my sobs were too loud to hear anything else.

He closed the door behind him, still with me in his arms and laid me down on his bed, whispering sweet, soft words in my ear, gently stroking my hair and hugging me in the most loving way possible.

You're right Salem, maybe I want to stay here, but it's wrong, I can't take him away from her, I had a family in another universe, I loved them, and I know they love me too, even though one of them doesn't, and I know they're looking for a way to get me out of here.

I couldn't be selfish like that...

...

I had finally fallen asleep after a few minutes, but I had woken up, it was 5:21 in the morning, I was curled up with Jensen, his warmth against mine made me want to stay here forever. Always in this world.

I'm going to enjoy it a little...

...

I could feel him playing with my hair, trying his best not to wake me up, but he failed.

"Morning." - I murmured against his chest.

"Hey, morning sweetheart." - He said in his highly attractive husky voice. "Do you feel better?" - He asked.

I mumbled in response, still not wanting to leave his embrace, but I needed to, shit why couldn't I be selfish for once in my life?

I moved away from him and sat on the bed, he did the same, gently placing his hand on my back, caressing.

"You want to talk?" - He asked softly.

"It was a nightmare, that's all." - I looked him in the eyes, trying not to show that I was lying.

He just nodded and kissed my temple before getting up from the bed, he said something like go to the kitchen and prepare breakfast and left.

Eclipsa entered Jensen's room, trying to get my attention, I smiled and caught her hugging her as if it were the last time I would see her.

She meowed in response, as if she was saying everything was okay and that she was here.

...

Jensen and I thought it was better to enjoy the day at home, he wouldn't leave me alone for a second, not that I was complaining... he was worried, I know.

"Here it is." - He said, entering the room with a huge bucket of popcorn and beers.

I looked at him tenderly as a way of thanking him, and he gave me a charming smile.

He sat next to me and covered himself with the blanket we were sharing.

My heart raced with his presence so close to me, his cologne drove me crazy. What is happening?

"What it was?" - He said with a mouth full of popcorn, still looking at the film in front of us.

It was like it was Dean here.

Wait... who is Dean?

"Nothing... just thinking about how grateful I am to have you here with me." -I rested my head on his shoulder, and he put his left arm around my shoulder.

"All for you, Sweetheart." - He whispered and kissed the top of my head.

I just stayed there in his arms, until I fell asleep, I could feel him carrying me to his room.

He laid me down and lay down hugging me.

"Night, Sweetheart." - He whispered, I just snuggled up to him in response.

...

It's 5 am, Jensen was still sleeping and Eclipsa was on top of me staring at me, I could feel her calling me. I whispered to Jensen that I would go to the bathroom and come back soon, since he is a light sleeper, he mumbled something I didn't understand and turned away.

When I got up from the bed Eclipsa came out of the room, I was right behind her, she took me to the room where there was a black cat, its eyes were red and its tail was pointy. I felt like I knew this cat from somewhere, but where?

The cat just stared at me and somehow I realized he looked scared.

"You're forgetting... just like I said..." - The cat said.

The cat spoke.

The...

Cat...

Spoke...

I panicked and was going to scream but he was faster and mumbled unknown words that kept me silent.

:Stay calm, silly girl." - He said getting closer, but I backed away. - "Just follow me."

I followed him and stopped in the kitchen, I saw him mumbling some things and I could feel something in me.

"You can talk now, but without scandals I just want to help." - He said calmly.

"Help with what?" - I asked

"To remember, silly girl. " - He said. - "I thought I had more time..." - He muttered to himself, but I had heard.

Remember? Remember what?

Next thing I know, I was cooking with an old book, the cat said just follow the instructions.

The recipe is called Memory Enhancing Macaroons, it's also a riddle that I have no idea how to solve.

When all your memories are blank, it'll come back and macarons are to thank.

That's what the book says.

I just shrug and get all the necessary ingredients.

"1 ¾ cups powdered sugar, 1 cup almond flour, finely ground, 1 teaspoon Livonian salt, divided (which the cat gave me to make this recipe) ,3 egg whites, at room temperature, ¼ cup granulated sugar, ½ teaspoon vanilla extract, 2 drops pink gel food coloring, 1 cup unsalted butter, 2 sticks, at room temperature, 3 tablespoons heavy cream." - I mutter to myself to check if everything was ok. - "Okay, now it's time to do it."

I take a deep breath and place the powdered sugar, almond flour and ½ teaspoon of Livonian salt in the bowl of a food processor and process on low speed until extra fine.

I sifted the almond flour mixture through a fine mesh sieve into a large bowl.

Beat 3 egg whites and remaining ½ teaspoon salt in an electric mixer until soft peaks form. I gradually added the granulated sugar until it is fully incorporated. I continued beating until firm peaks formed, I turned the bowl upside down and it didn't fall, so it's good.

I added the vanilla and beat until combined, I also added the food coloring and beat until well combined. I added about ⅓ of the sifted almond flour mixture at a time to the beaten egg whites and used a spatula gently until combined.

After the last addition of almond flour, I continued to mix slowly until the dough came together in ribbons and I can make a figure 8 while holding the spatula up.

Transfer the macaron dough to a pastry bag with a round tip.

I placed 4 dots of dough in each corner of a rimmed baking sheet and placed a piece of parchment paper on top, using the dough to help adhere the parchment paper to the pan.

I placed the macarons on the baking paper in 3 cm circles, with a space of at least 2 cm between them.

I tapped the pan on a flat kitchen surface 5 times to release any air bubbles.

I let the macarons sit at room temperature for 30 minutes to 1 hour, until they are dry to the touch. I preheated the oven to 150˚C (300˚F).

I set a timer to let me know when it was time to bake, and while I waited, I went back to the room where Jensen was sitting on the bed with his laptop on his lap, he was wearing glasses and still looked sleepy.

"Hey, where were you?" - He saw me standing in the doorway.

"Cooking." - I shrugged.

I spent those 1h30min talking to him, when it was time to bake the macarons, I asked for permission and he asked me to keep it for him, I laughed and said I couldn't promise anything, he laughed in response.

I Baked the macarons for 17 minutes, until the feet are well risen and the macarons no longer stick to the baking paper.

Transfer the macarons to a wire rack to cool completely before filling.

I made the butter cream which just beats the butter with a mixer for 1 minute until it's light and fluffy. I sifted the icing sugar and beat until completely incorporated. I added the vanilla and beat to combine.

I added the cream, 1 tablespoon at a time, and beat to combine, until it reached the consistency I want. Transfer the buttercream to a piping bag fitted with a round tip.

I added a dollop of buttercream to a macaron shell. I topped it with another macaron shell to create a sandwich. Repeat with remaining macaron shells and buttercream.

I placed it in an airtight container for 24 hours to “bloom”.

Now is just wait...

"I'll be back in 24 hours and you'll eat the macaron, I need you to remember." - He said heading towards the living room, he turned to me before saying something. - "When you remember, you will decide what you want, but remember there will be consequences." - He said before disappearing into thin air.

What the fuck?

I sighed and saw Eclipsa on the sofa sleeping peacefully, I smiled and went back to Jensen's room where he was still in the same position, but when he saw me he smiled and silently asked me to go back there.

I was falling in love with my best friend...

I went towards him and sat down on the bed with him. He came closer and said he was going to show a movie and that we were just going to stay there. I still didn't feel better about the nightmare I had, I didn't remember what happened, but I knew that every time I thought about it my heart hurt and my mind asked to remember.

Remember what?

I don't know...

...

It was already early in the morning, Jensen and I were still in the room, but we went out every now and then to take a shower or get takeout food.

We were marathoning some random series he had put on, I wasn't paying attention because my mind was still wandering to those macarons and what that talking cat was saying.

"I think it's time for bed..." Jensen said, and I just looked at him as if he said no. - "Don't look at me like that, you weren't even watching and I'm sleepy."

I looked at him in understanding and he turned off the laptop and we lay down, I was still sleeping in his room, and I didn't want to go back to my room, I feel something pulling me towards him. He put his arm around me and pulled me in, kissed the top of my head and we fell asleep.

To mean...

He slept.

I was still lost in thought.

...

5am.

The perfect time.

Jensen luckily was facing the other side, in an almost deep sleep because he was snoring lightly.

I got out of bed and quickly went towards the kitchen where the pot of Macarons that I had made the previous morning was in the middle of the counter, the cat was sitting next to it.

We didn't say a word, I just went there, opened the jar and ate a piece of the Macarons.

Memoirs.

Memories I had forgotten.

That I said I couldn't forget.

They came back.

I looked at the cat who was looking at me with hope in his eyes.

"I remember." - I whispered. - "What's going on, Salem?"

© morganaah/brightlilith ─ all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other platforms.

In Another Universe TagList;

@aylacavebear @stillhere197 @fanfic-n-tabulous

[brainwashedsmogbreathingprincess]

lol imagine being on tv for 15 years and then only being able to get shows made by the same creator, working with the same cast members. Pathetic.

Anyways completely unrelated but the boys S5 should be lit.

[mcudc616]

Jason Todd aka Red Hood in ‘Batman: Under the Red Hood’

[venusloverblue]

Today I started watching Supernatural after having had my eye on it for YEARS!! Why did nobody tell me how stupid I was for not watching it?

P.S.: Dean Winchester is so hot that I can't even explain it.

[howlingcommanddo]

First election year since ive found out about destiel and on Tumblr. So excited to figure out the results from dean if my parents dont reveal it first 🙏

[claradenile]

I would give up being gen z for men's out there

[blueravenwolf]

Handsome men in suits! Dear lord fuck me these man are gorgeous!!!

[girlblogging24]

Headcanons of a modern-day Soldier Boy ₊˚⊹♡

Distorted patriotism

Soldier Boy claims to love America, but his love is trapped in a version of the 1940s that no longer exists. He views the modern world with contempt, feeling that people are now "weak" and that everything that once represented the strength of his country has been lost.

✦ When he walks through the city and sees someone with brightly dyed hair, he can't help but mutter, "What the hell happened to real men?"

✦ Sometimes he sees modern soldiers and scoffs, "Back in my day, men went to war with a rifle and a pair o' brass balls, not these goddamn drones and spoiled-brat tech."

✦ But deep down, there's a part of him that knows he's outdated, that he doesn't fit in anymore. He hates it. And so he clings even tighter to his distorted view of what it means to be "American".

He hates modern music

If you try to play him some current pop or reggaeton, he will look at you with an expression of utter disgust. For him, music died after the 80s.

✦ "What the fuck is this crap?" he says when he hears a song with autotune. "This ain't music, it's a goddamn robot yappin'."

✦ If for some reason you end up in a place with modern music, he's going to be uncomfortable the whole time, muttering things like "I can't make out a damn word they're sayin'." or "Hell, at least they used to play real goddamn instruments."

✦ What he won't admit is that he's secretly found a couple of modern songs he doesn't dislike, but he'll never admit it. If you catch him listening to something that isn't classic rock, he's going to grimace and say "It's a fucking exception, okay?"

He thinks he's the toughest man, but he's an emotional wreck

To the world, Soldier Boy is the epitome of masculinity: strong, unstoppable, fearless. But the truth is that he has never learned to manage his emotions and his first reaction to any uncomfortable feeling is to suppress it with alcohol or violence.

✦ If you ever confront him with anything emotional, his first response is sarcasm. "What, you expect me to start talkin’ ‘bout my feelings like some damn hippie?"

✦ When he's alone and drunk, there are times when he drops the mask, when he stares at an old photo with a lost, vacant expression. But if someone sees him, he immediately pulls himself together and grunts something like "Ain't nothin', just got some damn dust in my eye."

✦ If he feel very strongly about someone, his instinct is not to say it, but to show it in awkward ways: making sure you eat, making sure you're safe, making sure no one screws you over. But if you try to talk about it, he'll cut you off with a snarl: "Alright, that's enough of that sentimental crap."

Problems with masculinity

Although he knows he is strong, invulnerable and a symbol of power, any suggestion that he is not “manly” enough makes him explode.

✦ If someone laughs at him for doing something "unmanly" (such as caring for someone or showing a modicum of vulnerability), his immediate reaction is violence. "You want to say that to me again, you bastard?"

✦ He hates feeling "weak" in front of a woman. If he is ever sick or hurt, he will try to pretend that everything is fine, even when it clearly is not. If you insist on taking care of him, he'll snarl at you: "I don't need nobody fussin’ over me like I'm some damn kid."

✦ But deep down, the problem is that he doesn't know how to exist outside of the role imposed on him. He doesn't know how to be a man without being ‘the strongest man in the room’.

He thinks he can keep drinking as before, but his body has changed.

After decades in suspended animation, his body is no longer quite the same, though he will never admit it.

✦ He pours himself a huge glass of whisky, downs it in one gulp, and almost immediately feels the dizziness. He frowns. It can't be. It can't be that the alcohol is hitting him so fast.

✦ But instead of accepting that his metabolism has changed, he gets angry at the drink. "This shit ain't like it used to be, they dilute it with water."

✦ He ends up hungover for the first time in his life and can't stand it. He lies there with one hand on his head, snarling, "If you say one word about this, I'll kill you."

✦ Despite everything, he continues to drink, continues to act as if nothing has changed. Because to accept otherwise would be to admit that he's not the same Soldier Boy he was before. And that terrifies him.

₊˚⊹♡

In short: Soldier Boy is a man trapped in the past, with a fragile masculinity disguised as toughness and a heart that, though he tries to hide it, is still capable of feeling...only in the most disastrous way possible.

₊˚⊹♡

[revyuniverse]

Screenshots of Dean and Sam Winchester - Season 1 - Pilot

[lila-lou]

✨Rise and Shine, Darling - 3/5✨

Summary: You play for the love of it. He hears something more. A chance meeting, a shared song, and a connection neither of you expected. Music brought you together. Now it might change everything.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language

Word Count: 4465

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

Your breath hitched. Because he wasn’t wrong. If you weren’t holding back—if you weren’t both holding back—this would have already happened.

Your hand moved before you could think, fingers brushing along the hem of his sleeve, testing, teasing. “You sure about that?”.

Jensen’s smirk deepened.

His hand slid up just a little higher, his fingers pressing lightly into your thigh now, warm and steady, possessive without even trying. You felt lightheaded. Like the room had shrunk down to just this. Just him.

His voice was barely above a whisper now, his lips so close that if you moved even slightly, they would graze yours. “Sweetheart”, he murmured, voice dark and smooth as sin, “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life”. His fingers tightened.

The second your lips brushed—barely a whisper of contact—something inside Jensen snapped. Before you could fully process it, his hands were on you, strong, sure, determined. In one swift motion, he pulled you onto his lap. A sharp gasp left your lips as your knees landed on either side of his hips, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance.

Jensen didn’t hesitate. One arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady, his other hand gripping your thigh—firm, possessive, like he’d already made up his mind about where this was going.

Your breathing was uneven, your heart hammering against your ribs as you stared down at him, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.

Jensen smirked, so damn smug, his hands sliding higher, his fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made your stomach clench. “Still holding back?”.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Because shit. This was real. This was happening.

And Jensen—calm, collected, teasing-as-hell Jensen—was looking up at you like he was ready to ruin you in the best possible way.

Your fingers tightened against his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

Jensen’s smug smirk didn’t last long. Because the second your nails dug into his shoulders, he moved. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, harder, exactly where he wanted you.

And then, he kissed you. Not just a kiss—a real, consuming, toe-curling kind of kiss. His lips pressed firmly against yours, demanding and deliberate, like he had already decided there was no going back from this.

And you melted into it instantly. Your fingers threaded into his hair, pulling, tugging, tilting your head as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip before sliding against yours, slow, intoxicating, completely in control. Jensen tasted like whiskey and heat, like something dangerous and addictive, like something you already knew you’d never get enough of.

His hands slid up your back, warm and steady, pressing you closer, as if there was still too much space between you. You gasped against his mouth when his fingers dug into your hips, his grip firm, possessive, and Jensen swallowed the sound like he owned it.

A low groan rumbled from his chest as you shifted against him, your body fitting into his like it was always meant to be there.

Jensen’s lips didn’t slow down. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t leave room for second thoughts. Because this? This was inevitable.

His hands roamed, exploring, teasing, testing—one sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingertips ghosting over your skin, the other slipping up the back of your neck, his thumb tilting your chin just right.

And damn it, you were gone. Lost in the way he kissed you like he had been waiting for this just as long as you had. Like he had been holding himself back and finally, finally gave in. His tongue slid against yours again, slower this time, almost taunting, making sure you felt every second of it.

Your breath hitched, and he smirked into the kiss. Cocky. Infuriating. So damn good. You responded by pulling him closer, grinding against him just enough to wipe that smirk off his face.

Jensen groaned, deep and rough, his grip on your waist tightening, his fingers pressing into your bare skin like he was trying to ground himself. But you weren’t making this easy for him. And he wasn’t about to let you win.

His mouth left yours, trailing lower, his lips skimming your jaw, your neck, your pulse. Your fingers clenched in his hair as his teeth nipped lightly, his tongue soothing the spot immediately after. “Jensen”, you breathed, your head tilting back without thinking.

He hummed against your skin, his breath warm, his smirk returning. “I like the way you say my name”, he murmured, his voice husky and dripping with satisfaction. You shivered, your fingers gripping his shoulders tighter.

In one swift motion, his hands slid to the hem of your shirt, gripping it tightly. Before you could blink, he pulled it up, dragging the fabric over your hips, your waist, your ribs—

And then, it was gone. Followed by your skirt. The cool air barely had a chance to brush against your skin before he was on you again. His hands were back, hot, firm, and unapologetic, roaming over newly exposed skin, fingers pressing in, memorizing.

Flipping you onto your back, his body following immediately after, hovering over you, caging you in. Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, heart pounding, lips swollen, your skin still tingling from where his hands had just been.

Jensen just watched you. For a moment, he didn’t move—didn’t say anything. Just looked. His eyes darkened, tracing every inch of you, slow and thorough, like he was savoring the moment, burning it into his memory.

Then, finally, he sat back slightly, his hands gripping the hem of his own shirt, pulling it up, over his head, tossing it aside like it was nothing.

Your breath caught. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, your eyes dragging over him in silent appreciation.

Jensen noticed. His lips twitched, his smirk returning as he leaned down, his face just inches from yours. “You keep looking at me like that”, he murmured, voice low, rough, teasing, “and I’m not gonna be able to take my time with you”.

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your throat. Without thinking, you reached up, fingers grazing over his jaw, then lower, over his collarbone, down the hard planes of his chest. Jensen exhaled sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your touch.

Your nails scraped lightly down his stomach, and his jaw clenched, his grip on your waist tightening. “Then don’t”, you whispered, your lips curving.

Jensen let out a low, husky chuckle. “Careful what you wish for, sweetheart”, he murmured, before his lips were on yours again.

His hands moved with purpose, sliding down your waist, his fingers hooking into your panties before dragging them down and tossing them aside.

Your breath hitched as he leaned back, his gaze roaming, taking in everything. The way he looked at you—like he was trying to memorize every inch—sent a shiver racing down your spine.

Then, he shifted, his hands moving to his own belt, fingers working through the buckle, the leather sliding free with an easy pull. The sound alone had your stomach tightening in anticipation. Then—the zipper. Slow. Deliberate.

You watched, your lips parting slightly as he pushed his jeans and boxers down just enough, just enough to free himself, just enough to make your pulse skyrocket.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, and Jensen noticed. A slow smirk curled at his lips as he sat back slightly, one hand wrapping around himself, stroking lazily, teasing.

Your stomach flipped. Your breathing turned shallow.

When his free hand reached for the coffee table drawer, pulling it open, fumbling for a condom, that’s when you raised a brow. “Do you usually take girls right here?”, you asked, amusement lacing your voice, though there was a hint of something else, something heated beneath it. “I mean, condoms stocked in the coffee table? Pretty… convenient”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head as he ripped the foil open. “Wouldn’t say stocked”, he murmured, rolling the condom on, his voice thick with amusement and something deeper, rougher. “Put them there a few days ago”.

That made you pause. Your gaze flickered to his, a new realization settling in. “A few days ago?”, you echoed.

Jensen smirked, fully unapologetic. “I was optimistic”.

Your lips parted slightly, your breath hitching at the implication. Because he had been thinking about this. He had been waiting for this. And shit, so had you.

Your fingers tightened against his shoulders, your body already burning for him, your stomach twisting with the sheer weight of everything that was about to happen.

Jensen’s hand slid back to your waist, guiding you exactly where he wanted you, his voice dropping into something dark and delicious. “Now”, he murmured, his lips brushing against yours, “you gonna keep asking questions, or you gonna let me show you how much I’ve been thinking about this?”.

The world seemed to slow down when he finally moved, aligning himself at your entrance. The initial contact was gentle, cautious—as if he was still giving you a chance to change your mind. But the look in your eyes, wide, wanting, trusting, was all the confirmation he needed.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he moved forward. The breath hitched in your throat, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he filled you, taken aback by your tightness. His reaction was immediate; his head dropped forward, forehead resting against your shoulder, a low groan muffled against your skin. His body tensed, muscles tightening as he adjusted to the sensation, to the overwhelming intimacy of the moment.

You could feel every inch of him, stretching, filling, the sensation teetering on the edge of too much yet exactly right. Your hands moved to his back, nails digging slightly into his skin, encouraging him, grounding him, as much as seeking to anchor yourself from the storm of sensations he was stirring within you.

Jensen's breathing was heavy against your neck, hot and ragged. He paused for a moment, allowing you both to adjust, to take in the depth of your connection.

Slowly, he lifted his head, locking eyes with you again. His hips pulled back slightly, then he thrust forward again, deeper, with a sureness that had you gasping, arching against him.

His movements became more confident, each thrust measured, calculated to draw out as much sensation as possible. Your world narrowed down to the here and now, to the feel of Jensen moving within you, to the intense gaze that held yours, not letting you look away, not that you wanted to.

Jensen’s hands were everywhere—on your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts, in your hair, gently tugging to tilt your head back to give him better access to the sensitive skin of your neck, tracing the line of your jaw with tender touches that contrasted with the powerful movements of his body.

Jensen adjusted his grip, his hand sliding under your thigh and lifting it, positioning it around his hip. This new angle allowed him to dive even deeper, each thrust finding and hitting that perfect spot inside you that made stars burst behind your closed eyelids.

The sensation of him hitting your sweet spot repeatedly was overwhelming, the pleasure sharp and intense, drawing loud moans from your lips despite your attempts to maintain some semblance of control. His encouragement was a low, husky whisper against your jaw, "Tell me how good it feels", blending seamlessly with his soft, insistent kisses that trailed from your jawline to your ear.

You managed a breathless response, words laced with a teasing edge, even as your body trembled under the wave of sensations, "It’s… okay", but your voice betrayed you, breaking into a moan as he thrust again, deeper, more deliberate.

Jensen chuckled, the sound dark and deliciously proud as he felt your body react so viscerally to his movements. "Just okay, huh?". His breath was hot against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, sending a shiver down your spine. "Guess I'll just have to try harder".

His movements became even more purposeful, his hips driving into yours with a precision that left you gasping, clutching at him, your nails digging into the muscles of his back.

"Come on, tell me", he urged again, his voice rough with his own rising pleasure. "Tell me you love this".

Caught between defiance and the undeniable truth of your body's reaction, you arched into him, your voice coming out as a mix of a moan and a laugh, "Fuck- I love it".

Hearing you admit it seemed to unleash something even wilder in him. His thrusts grew more urgent, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the room, mixing with your combined breaths and moans. Jensen’s mouth found yours again, kissing you with a passion that mirrored the fervor of his movements, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips, pushing you both towards a precipice that was both thrilling and terrifying in its intensity.

Jensen could feel it—the way your body tightened around him, the way your breath hitched, the way your nails dug into his skin just a little harder every time he hit that perfect spot.

And he wasn’t letting up. His grip on your thigh tightened, keeping your leg hooked around his hip, his other hand sliding up your back, pulling you closer, making sure you felt everything.

He was completely in control, and he knew it. His lips never stopped moving—skimming over your jaw, nipping at your neck, breathing in every little sound you made.

His voice was low, teasing, confident, completely wrecking you. “Feel that?”, he murmured, his hips rolling perfectly, deeply, deliberately. “Every time I move, you get a little tighter”.

Your breath shuddered, your fingers curling against his shoulders.

Jensen smirked against your skin. “That’s it, sweetheart”, he whispered, his pace steady, unrelenting. “You gonna come for me?”.

You let out a sharp, desperate moan, your body betraying you, chasing the inevitable.

Jensen chuckled, a deep, sinful sound that made everything inside you tighten. “Yeah”, he rasped, completely sure of himself. “You are”.

And damn it, he was right. Because Jensen knew exactly what to do—how to move, how to angle his hips, how to drive you over the edge with maddening precision. He was too experienced, too good at this, and your body responded to him like it had always known him.

He could tell—he could feel it. The way your breath hitched, the way your thighs tensed, the way you whimpered his name, your body seconds away from breaking apart beneath him.

Jensen’s grip tightened, his thrusts hitting deeper, his voice rough in your ear. “Come on, sweetheart”, he coaxed, his words pushing you further, sending heat spiraling through you. “Let me feel you”.

Just then, you shattered. Your climax ripped through you, overwhelming, consuming, your body arching into his, clutching him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Jensen groaned, feeling you tighten around him, feeling you fall apart in his hands, because of him. He didn’t stop—not yet. His pace slowed, but never faltered, riding you through it, his lips murmuring against your skin. “Fuck, that’s beautiful”, he muttered, his voice strained, holding himself back just a little longer.

His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his body tense, controlled, fighting against his own release. But you felt him. The way he was barely holding on, the way he was trying to prolong the moment, trying to make this last just a little longer.

And you weren’t about to let him suffer. Your hands slid down his back, nails raking lightly, teasing, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered, “Your turn, Ackles”.

His breath caught—and just like that, he lost control. The second the words left your lips, something in Jensen snapped. You felt it. The way his breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed, the way his entire body shuddered against yours. His forehead pressed against yours, his lips parted, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself completely.

“Fuck—”. The curse was low, wrecked, his voice rough as he thrust deep, burying himself inside you. His fingers digging into your skin, his jaw clenching as his release hit him full force.

You felt everything—the way he pulsed inside you, the way his breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, the way his hands held onto you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

Jensen groaned, his lips brushing against your jaw, murmuring nonsensical words, his voice still thick with pleasure. His thrusts slowed, dragging out every last wave of sensation, his body trembling slightly against yours.

For a few moments, there was nothing but heavy breathing, pounding heartbeats, and the heat of your bodies tangled together. Neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved.

Jensen’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close, his forehead still pressed against yours. His breath fanned over your lips, warm and uneven, his body still pressed against yours, still inside you, still grounding himself.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he let out a soft, breathless chuckle. “Well, damn”.

You laughed, your fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles over his shoulders. “Yeah”, you murmured, voice still slightly dazed. “Damn”.

Jensen pulled back slightly, his green eyes flickering open, lazy and content, studying you.

And the way he looked at you, like he wasn’t just seeing you as someone he had just slept with, but as someone who actually meant something. That’s what truly made your stomach tighten.

But Jensen moved first.

With a soft exhale, he pulled away from you, his body still humming with the remnants of what just happened.

His hands made quick work of rolling off the condom, tossing it into the nearby trash before pulling up his jeans. He didn’t say much, just buckled his belt, adjusting himself while standing a few feet off the couch.

Meanwhile, you sat up, still flushed, still catching your breath, as you tried to get your clothes back in place. Your skirt and shirt were somewhere on the floor, your underwear completely out of reach, and your body still tingled everywhere he had touched you.

You’d had sex before, sure—but never like that. Never had someone made you feel this good, this completely undone. And truthfully? You hadn’t had much experience.

Jensen had years of experience on you, and it showed. He knew exactly what to do, exactly how to move, exactly how to touch you in ways you hadn’t even known you needed. Even now, your legs felt weak, your pulse still a little too fast, your lips swollen from the intensity of it all.

You weren’t sure what to say. Or if you should say anything at all.

Jensen ran a hand through his messy, slightly damp hair, letting out a slow breath before finally turning to look at you. His green eyes flickered, taking in the sight of you—still breathless, still trying to gather yourself.

And then, that familiar, cocky smirk made its way back onto his face. “Damn, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice still rough, still tinged with satisfaction. “You look a little—what’s the word?—wrecked”.

You let out a short laugh, rolling your eyes as you pulled your shirt back over your shoulders. “And whose fault is that?”.

Jensen chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “Mine”, he admitted, not even trying to deny it.

You bit your lip, heat flashing through you at the way he was still looking at you. Like he was still thinking about it. Like he was already considering doing it again.

You swallowed, pressing your hands against your thighs, still trying to ground yourself. “So, um…”.

Jensen raised a brow, waiting.

You hesitated. What now? What was this? Were you supposed to just go back to writing songs and pretending like nothing had happened? Because nothing about what had just happened felt casual.

Jensen seemed to pick up on your hesitation. His smirk softened slightly, his tone quieter when he spoke. “You good?”.

You blinked, looking up at him. Something in his gaze had shifted. He was teasing, sure, but he was also checking in. Making sure you were okay. Making sure this hadn’t been a mistake. And strangely, that small gesture, the simple act of asking, made your stomach tighten in an entirely different way.

You nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yeah”, you admitted. “Just… trying to process”.

Jensen nodded, like he understood completely. Because, truthfully? So was he. For once, he actually looked uncertain. And if that wasn’t the strangest thing you’d ever seen. Jensen Ackles—the confident, teasing, always-in-control Jensen—was actually awkward right now.

His eyes flickered to you, then to the floor, then back to you. He scratched the back of his neck, exhaling. “So, uh…”. He hesitated, shifting again. “Should we… talk about this?”.

You froze mid-movement, still fixing your skirt. Your gaze shot up to meet his, your stomach flipping, your pulse jumping in the worst way. Because what the hell were you supposed to say to that? You opened your mouth, then closed it. No words came out.

And that’s when you realized, you were just as awkward as he was.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

You cleared your throat. “Uh…”. You forced out a short, nervous laugh. “I mean… do you want to talk about it?”.

Jensen exhaled sharply, rubbing his jaw. “I don’t know. Do you?”.

You blinked. “I—”.

What the hell kind of conversation was this? Both of you just standing here, staring at each other like two people who had no idea what to do with themselves. Because, honestly? You didn’t. One second, you were teasing each other over whiskey. The next, you were naked and tangled up on his couch.

And now? Now you were in uncharted territory.

You crossed your arms over your chest, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean… we don’t have to talk about it. Unless you think we should?”.

Jensen let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Jesus. This is painful”.

You let out a short, embarrassed laugh, dragging a hand down your face. “Yep. Yep, it is”.

Jensen let out another breath, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Alright, look”. He gestured vaguely between the two of you. “I wasn’t exactly planning on that happening”.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Oh, really? The condoms in the coffee table suggested otherwise”.

Jensen rolled his eyes, but there was the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Okay, fine. Maybe I had considered the possibility, but I wasn’t expecting it to actually happen tonight”.

You shifted on your feet, still feeling way too exposed, even with your clothes back in place. The air in the room had changed—it was still charged, but now it was laced with uncertainty.

Jensen rubbed his jaw, glancing at you again. “So what now?”.

Your stomach twisted. You had no idea. You weren’t even sure what this was. It wasn’t just a drunken mistake. It wasn’t just casual, meaningless sex. At least for you.

But it also wasn’t something you had talked about or planned for. And Jensen? Jensen looked just as confused as you felt.

You swallowed, shifting your weight. “I mean…”. You hesitated, glancing at him. “We don’t have to make this a thing, right?”.

Jensen’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t say anything. He just… watched you.

You kept going, because what else could you do? “It happened, it was… good—”.

Jensen let out a short laugh. “Good?”.

You rolled your eyes, your face heating up. “Okay, great, whatever. But it doesn’t have to be complicated, right?”.

Jensen studied you for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then he crossed his arms, mirroring your stance. “Is that what you want?”, he asked, his voice calmer now, steadier.

You hesitated. Because the answer wasn’t easy. What did you want? More of this? More of him? Or did you just want to go back to before—when things were easy, when it was just music and teasing and late nights that didn’t involve tangled sheets and breathless moans?

The truth? You had no idea. But Jensen was looking at you like he wanted an answer. And you weren’t sure if you had the right one. You opened your mouth. Nothing came out.

Jensen just stood there, waiting, arms crossed, his green eyes locked on you like he could somehow read your thoughts. And God, you wished he could, because you had no idea what to say.

Your heart was still racing, your skin still flushed, your body still reeling from what just happened. You wanted to give him an answer, but you didn’t have one. So instead, you fumbled even more. “I mean, I—”. You let out a breath, shaking your head. “I don’t know, okay?”.

Jensen raised a brow, his lips twitching. “That’s a solid answer”.

You glared at him. “I’m serious”.

His smirk faded, and he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I know”.

“Look, it happened. We were drinking, we were messing around, and things… escalated”. You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “No big deal, right?”.

Jensen’s expression didn’t change. For a second, you thought he was going to call you out. Say something, push for a real answer. But he just nodded. “Yeah. No big deal”.

You exhaled, relief and disappointment settling in your stomach all at once.

Jensen reached for his whiskey glass, though it was empty now, rolling it between his fingers. “We’re good, then?”.

You forced a smile. “Yeah. We’re good”.

He studied you for a second longer, like he didn’t fully believe you. Then, with a slow nod, he let it go. Just like that, it was brushed under the rug. Neither of you mentioned the fact that it wasn’t just about the whiskey. Neither of you acknowledged the way things had been building for weeks, maybe longer. Neither of you admitted that this was already more complicated than either of you wanted to believe.

And as you grabbed your bag and smoothed down your dress, pretending like nothing had changed, you both knew, this wasn’t the end of it. Not even close.

———————————

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

-

Part 4

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick @lmg14 @kamisobsessed

[aihotartwork]

[ivan-hw]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENSEN ACKLESSSSS 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️