Summary: Y/N is humiliated. Can meeting Jensen make things better? (P.S. Sometimes I hate writing summaries. 😩😄)
Pairing: Jensen x Plus-sized!eader (Y/N)
Warnings: None really. Embarrassed reader. Hurt reader. Body shaming asshole. Kissing. Fluff. Jensen being the ultimate, incredible man. 😁❤️
Word Count: 4,168
A/N: This fic was a request by a lovely anon. It turned out fluffier and less smutty than I was originally thinking, Nonny, so I hope it still works for you. ❤️
This fic also incorporates this gif request sent in by @suckitands33 for my 2K followers celebration. Here is the gif I reference in this fic:
(x)
This was meant to be a drabble request, and looking at the word count you can see that this is most decidedly NOT a drabble. 😄 But I hope you like what I've come up with anyway. ❤️
If you enjoy the fic, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment. It means a lot. ❤️
A/N 2: As always this fic is about a different, multiverse version of Jensen, who is single. This is a complete and utter work of fiction.
It was one of Y/N’s most humiliating experiences during what should have been one of her most exciting moments.
She'd waited years and years to get to a Supernatural convention. She'd been a fan of the show for a very long time, and she simply adored the whole cast. The camaraderie of the boys and the kindness of the whole SPN Family had helped her through some very dark times.
So to finally be at a con, and standing in line, waiting for a photo op with her absolute favorite actor of all time, Jensen Ackles? It felt like a dream.
But she was so nervous. She'd never met anyone famous, let alone the guy she'd had a crush on for nearly half her life. Jensen was beautiful beyond words, sexy and charming, and everyone seemed to fall in love with him. So meeting him was daunting to say the least.
As she approached the front of the line she finally got a look at him as he posed with other fans. He wore a slightly distressed, light beige sweater and tight fitting black jeans. He was so unbelievably tall in person, so solid, and if possible, even more gorgeous than he was on film. That magnetism he had, the kind that lit up the screen so easily and quickly drew everyone into the characters he played, was on full display and almost too brilliant in real life. She felt her lower belly tighten as butterflies erupted inside her.
Finally, when Y/N was second in line, Jensen looked over and caught her eye, giving her a little smile and a wave. She blushed beet red and waved back, feeling like a complete idiot, but beaming nonetheless.
The woman in front of her walked up to Jensen and made a suggestion for a pose. One of the handlers seemed like they weren’t sure about allowing it, but Jensen waved away their worries, smiling at the fan and nodding, saying something that made her giggle. Then he wrapped his arm around her back and under her legs, picking her up from the ground. The woman squealed slightly, but then they did the pose. The woman had her arms flung wide in celebration, smile shining, and Jensen had his mouth open in a comically huge smile. It looked like they’d both won the lottery or something.
It was adorable.
Then it was finished and it was Y/N’s turn. She tried to take deep, steadying breaths as the previous fan said goodbye quickly. Before she walked up though, a staff member approached Jensen. He looked like he worked for the venue and not Creation, because he wore a uniform with the hotel’s name emblazoned on the back. Jensen’s smile shrank as he walked up; he didn’t look particularly happy to see him.
The guy said something about switching rooms for autographs and Jensen just nodded. Then, as he was leaving, he looked over at Y/N waiting to be next, and turned to Jensen with a mocking smile.
“Wouldn’t try that last pose with this one.” He said with a nod towards Y/N at the front of the line.
Y/N felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach. All the air left her lungs and her eyes welled up instantly, her chest was immediately on fire from the shame she was swallowing down in big gulps.
She’d been chubby her whole life; she couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t dieting and desperately trying to lose weight. It was her biggest insecurity that she couldn’t slip under 250 pounds no matter what she tried. She’d been that weight for a decade or more and no amount of dieting or exercising seemed to change that.
She was also tall for a woman, and so she often felt like…how did Taylor put it?
Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby
And I'm a monster on the hill
And now here she was in front of the man she’d dreamt about and fantasized about for so long, and this was how he was going to see her now - the way this jackass saw her.
She felt sick to her stomach.
She let her glance skitter to Jensen, but he wasn’t looking at her, he was glaring at the guy who was starting to walk away. He followed him and in two long strides caught him, grabbing his arm and spinning the guy around to face him.
They were close enough now that Y/N could hear what they were saying, even though Jensen was speaking in an angry, whiphard, whisper.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
The guy flung his arms out. “Come on, man. It was just a joke.”
Jensen shook his head and his face was like stone. “No, it wasn’t. And you know how I know it wasn’t a joke? Cause it wasn’t fucking funny. You’re an asshole, and if I catch you saying shit like that again about anybody here, I’ll be talking to your boss, and letting them know that we'll be looking for another venue next year.” He gave him a humorless smile. “And I’ll be sure to tell him just who he has to thank for that.”
The guy mumbled something that must have been an apology because Jensen let go of his arm and the guy beat a swift retreat. Y/N watched Jensen take a deep breath and then he approached her at the front of the line.
She knew the people around her had heard what the guy said because they were calling the guy a prick too and telling her to ignore his bullshit. The woman behind her, who she’d never met, was rubbing circles on her back, trying to soothe the pain the jackass had caused.
That kind gesture along with the way Jensen held out his hand towards her and smiled so warmly, made tears start to fall silently. She couldn’t help it. She took Jensen’s warm hand and allowed him to pull her over to stand in front of the camera, quickly brushing her tears away with her free hand.
She’d never wanted to be in a picture less, and as they approached the spot, she shook her head and tried to pull her hand free.
She cleared her throat and stared at the floor. “Maybe, I’ll just…could I just get the picture with just you in it? Any pose you want to do will be fine.” She said, her slightly stuffy nose muffling her words.
Jensen turned back to her and tilted his head to catch her eye. “I can, if you want, but I’d sure love a picture with you. Whaddya say?” He asked with a bright smile.
Y/N realized it would be physically impossible to say no to this man, so she shrugged and walked into position in front of the camera.
“What pose do you want, sweetheart?”
Y/N swallowed hard and forced herself not to cry. “Would you just…I’d just like a hug, if that’s okay.”
Jensen nodded. “Absolutely.”
So he opened his arms and Y/N stepped into them. She wrapped her hands under his arms and around his ribcage. His left arm was closest to the camera and he wrapped that one around her shoulders. His right arm came up over her shoulders too, but he used that hand to press her cheek to his chest, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply.
She’d never felt so cocooned in safety in her whole life. His arms were strong around her, applying just the right pressure to make her feel completely protected. After the way her heart had just been pulverized, it felt healing. She wanted to stay right there forever.
She heard the click of the camera, though, and opened her eyes. Jensen kept her wrapped in his arms for a little longer, before giving her an extra squeeze and stepping back.
“Thank you.” Y/N said shyly.
“Thank you.” Jensen responded, cupping her shoulder briefly. “Take care. Hope to see you again this weekend.”
Y/N nodded, grateful for his kindness, but recognizing that he felt bad for her too which brought on more embarrassment. So she just nodded at Chris who was snapping the pictures, and took off out of the photo op area.
She went to the bathroom immediately and locked herself in the stall, allowing herself to cry quietly at length. For more than half an hour she sat in the stall, covering her mouth to keep from making too much noise. But finally her tears slowed and then dried up, the crack in her heart receding into just another scar there. She stayed in the bathroom another twenty minutes, dabbing at her puffy eyes with cool paper towels.
When she felt she was presentable enough, she finally left the restroom and headed over to pick up her photo op package. As she stood by the table, waiting for hers to show up, one of the women she recognized as a handler approached her.
She smiled kindly, though she seemed a little frazzled which Y/N could definitely understand. “Hi! We actually picked up your photo op. If you follow me, we can get it for you.”
Y/N thought that was a little odd. Was there something wrong with the picture? But she nodded and followed along quickly as the handler practically sprinted away.
They walked down a hallway in the hotel and then through a couple of doors until they emerged in a mostly empty hallway, just a few employees scurrying around busily. Finally the woman she was following stopped and knocked lightly on a door, waiting a moment and then opening it and showing Y/N into a beautifully appointed suite. The furniture was subtly luxurious and elegant, the floors and fixtures were cool and understated while still being sleek and trendy.
But by far the most beautiful part of the room was the man sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, with what looked like a script in his hand.
He looked up as they walked in and a smile broke out on his face as he dropped the script onto the table in front of him. “Hey! We found you! Thanks Amanda!”
Amanda nodded and shot him a smile. “No problem!” She said as she spun around and took off, closing the door behind her and suddenly leaving Y/N alone with Jensen.
As though he was reading her mind, Jensen pointed towards the door. “If you’d feel more comfortable, we can open it again.”
But Y/N couldn’t have felt less afraid or worried about her safety being alone with the man in front of her, so she just shook her head. She was bound to act like an idiot in front of him and the less prying eyes watching that the better.
Jensen smiled. “Okay, well do you want a drink? Help yourself.” He said, pointing to a table with coffee, tea, and water bottles. “We could probably get you a coke or something, if you’d rather.”
She shook her head again, but forced herself to utter words this time. “No thank you, I’m fine.”
“Okay, well in that case you’re probably wondering what the hell I tracked you down for.” He said with a soft smile.
Y/N smiled back. “A little.”
Jensen waved at the spot beside him on the couch. “Wanna sit down?”
She took him up on that offer since her knees were a little wobbly and she didn’t really trust them.
He reached over to the table beside the couch and pulled up a glossy 8x10 photo. “Well, to begin with, I do have your photo.”
He handed it over and Y/N felt herself blush. Despite the fact that she was in it, it was a beautiful picture. Her eyes were closed and so were Jensen’s as he held her protectively cuddled against him. The picture would always remind her of just how safe she’d felt in that moment, and she was grateful to take it home.
“Thank you.” She said quietly. “You were great.”
“And you were beautiful.” He shook his head. “No, you ARE beautiful.”
Y/N felt her cheeks flush an even deeper red. “It’s really okay, I’m fine. I mean the guy was a jerk, but you don’t have to try and make me feel better. It’s hardly the first time.” She shrugged. “I can take it.”
Jensen shifted slightly closer to her, turning on the couch so he was facing her. “I’m not trying to make you feel better.”
She shot him a disbelieving look and he chuckled. “Well, I guess I am, but that’s just a bonus of telling you the truth. And the truth is, Y/N, you're beautiful.”
Y/N shot him a slightly wide-eyed look. “How do you know my name?”
He pointed to her picture and smiled. “I got it from the photo op package. Promise I’m not psychic. Or a stalker”
Y/N giggled and covered her mouth at the sound, apologizing. “Sorry.”
Jensen reached up and pulled her hand away from her smile. “Don’t do that. Don’t cover up your laugh and certainly don’t apologize for it.”
Y/N shrugged again and looked down at her lap and the hand that Jensen still held. He came slightly closer and tipped up her chin.
“I wanted to see you because the last thing I wanted was for you to walk away from this weekend thinking less of yourself because of some asshole with a big mouth and a mean streak. It was…”He took a deep breath. “It was bothering me a lot.”
Y/N was frustrated with herself that she couldn’t stop the tears that formed again at Jensen’s kind words. She dashed them away quickly with her free hand.
“Sorry.” She apologized again. “I know I don’t owe some rude jackass my tears and hurt, but sometimes it’s hard to just shove them down, you know.”
Jensen cupped her cheek warmly and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. “Don’t shove them down, sweetheart, throw them away. His words are bullshit. They’re just wrong. Wanna know how I know?”
Y/N nodded, completely mesmerized by his mossy green gaze as he answered, his voice vehement. “I know he’s wrong, because it’s obvious for anyone to see that you’re utterly beautiful.”
Y/N started to scoff, but he cut her off. “I wanted to kiss you. Still do.”
Y/N choked heartily on the words that sputtered out of her, forgetting how to breathe normally. Jensen looked slightly abashed and it was his turn to stare at his lap. “God, I hope you don’t think I’m some creepy weirdo. I’m not…I don’t expect anything from you…this isn’t…”
He sighed. “Shit, I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that. I just wanted to try and make you understand that I’m not lying to make you feel better, I’m not just trying to make a sweet girl feel better about herself, though I want you to. But I wanted you to know that I was and am genuinely, undeniably attracted to you. From the moment I looked over and saw you standing in that line.”
He shrugged and shifted back slightly. “But I totally get if I’ve creeped you out and you wanna go. I’m sorry.”
But Y/N just stared at him bug eyed. She spoke softly and slowly, still stammering slightly. “You wa-wanna kiss m-me.”
He gave her a lopsided smile and a shrug. “It’s the truth.”
“Since you saw me in line?” She said by way of clarification.
He nodded. “Yep.”
She blinked rapidly and then bit her lip. She caught the way Jensen’s eyes flickered down to her mouth and the way his gaze heated, setting her body on fire.
“Oh my god.” She whispered in disbelief. Then she shook her head and grinned at him. “Well, I’ve wanted to kiss you for about a decade…so…” She trailed off and Jensen gave a surprised laugh that turned into a warm and mischievous smile.
“Well, in that case,” he said slowly, “I think you should go first.” He tapped lightly on his cupid’s bow mouth, indicating that she should kiss him there and Y/N thought she might actually pass out.
She leaned forward tentatively, her head cloudy and the world around her surreal, and pressed her lips to his very briefly and gently before pulling back.
Jensen opened his eyes and a slow sexy smile spread across his face. “That was sweet, darlin’. But I gotta say, ten years of thinking and that’s all you got? I’ve been thinking about you for barely two hours, and I can promise you, I imagined way more than that sweet little angel kiss.”
Y/N felt her lower belly clench with want. “Okay, then show me.” She said, hardly able to believe her daring.
But it felt like she was being presented with a buffet of her favorite foods when she’d been starving and there was no way she was going to pass up the opportunity in front of her.
Jensen leaned forward and slid his big hand into her hair, holding her head in place as he pressed his mouth to hers gently, taking teasing sips from her lips and making her whimper slightly. She was embarrassed by the sound, but it made Jensen tighten his grip in her hair and growl slightly into her open mouth, finally sweeping his tongue inside and completely devouring her.
Y/N grabbed onto Jensen’s soft sweater and fisted it in her hands over and over, reveling in the feel of hard muscle beneath her palms. Jensen kissed her long and lustfully. His left hand stayed bunched in her hair, but he let his right hand slide up and down her arm before he slid it around to push against her back, just between her shoulder blades.
He pressed her tightly to his chest as he continued to rob her of air. Finally, he broke off the kiss, leaving them both panting as he pressed his lips just beneath her jaw and down her neck.
Her mind felt like it was on fire, everything was spinning and the world was just going too fast. As though he really was the psychic he denied being, Jensen seemed to know she needed to catch her breath, figuratively and literally, and he pulled back to press his forehead to hers.
“Sorry, got a little carried away.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No, no…that was…you’re perfect.”
Jensen chuckled. “You stole the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart.”
When they’d regained their breath, Jensen kissed her chastely and then tucked her hair behind her ear.
“So, you going to the panel tomorrow?”
Y/N nodded and gave a soft smile. “Of course.”
“Do you have plans tonight?”
Y/N felt like her heart might actually burst. She shook her head. “None that aren’t breakable.”
The next day at the panel, Y/N sat in the third row, feeling as though the whole world was brand new.
She could still hardly believe it, but the night before she and Jensen had gone out to dinner at a very nice restaurant, and the conversation between them had been remarkably easy and laced with laughter and fun.
After dinner they’d gone for a long walk and talked some more before finding a quiet park bench and making out like teenagers. Jensen’s mouth had branded her skin as his alone, and she knew he owned her now, body and soul. She was pretty sure he felt the same way, or at least something like it. He’d been very open about how much he wanted her, vocal in his desire and need for her.
It was the first time in her life that she’d felt truly, unequivocally beautiful and it opened up the world around her; colors seemed brighter and she knew that she was glowing.
Barely twenty-four hours after standing heartbroken and humiliated in Jensen’s arms, she sat in the audience, watching him on stage, feeling alive and truly happy in a way that was a little scary, but wholly exhilarating too.
The panel was wonderful; the boys were hilarious and warm as always. As the music started for the last question, Y/N expected Jensen to go off and sing with Rob as he usually did. But instead he looked right at her in the audience, standing up quickly and crooking his finger at her, beckoning her forward.
Amanda, the woman who’d brought her to the hotel suite yesterday, was standing at the end of the row, and gestured for her to leave her seat and follow her to the stage. Y/N was shaking from head to toe as she followed her up the stairs to where Jared was waiting for her, escorting her over to Jensen who took her hand and led her back to the chair sitting in the middle of the stage, helping her hop up onto it.
She looked out across the huge audience and panicked a little at the size of the crowd, until she made herself actually look at everyone’s faces. They were all smiling and beaming at her, and she thought of the boys’ oft repeated phrase: “You’re surrounded by family.” She suddenly felt a sense of belonging that was almost unprecedented in her life.
The music ended and the audience’s cheering fell away as Jared looked out at the crowd. “Everyone, say hello to Y/N! Y/N say hello to your SPN family!” There was more clapping and cheering as Y/N waved shyly. It occurred to her then, that she hadn’t told Jared her name, which meant Jensen must have told him about her. At least, enough that Jared agreed to break the usual routine of the last question going to one of the people standing in line.
Y/N felt a little guilty that she was taking their place, but when she looked at the women standing at the microphones she could see them smiling and clapping along.
Jensen put his arm around her shoulders and she shivered. Raising the microphone, he shot her a mischievous smile before speaking.
“So, Y/N, how was your evening last night? You enjoying yourself?”
Y/N blushed beet red, and just nodded. Jared punched Jensen lightly and took pity on her. “Do you have a question for us?”
She wasn’t prepared at all, having never expected to be in this position, but she gave it a go as both boys lowered their microphone so she could speak into it.
She took a deep breath. “I wasn’t expecting to be up here, so I don’t…I don’t have a question ready, but I’d like to take a moment to say thank you.”
She looked out at the audience. “Some of you were in the photo op line with me when I experienced something really embarrassing. Every one of you were kind about it and supportive, and I greatly appreciate it.”
She looked at Jared. “You promote so much love and support in your AKF campaigns and with all of us fans, and I’m so grateful for that because you encourage us all to be better people.”
Jared put his hand on his heart and looked down at the ground, humbly accepting her gratitude. Then she looked at Jensen and her eyes welled up a little.
“Jensen, you made me feel truly safe and beautiful at a time when I would have sworn that was impossible, and whatever happens in my future, I’ll hold on to that feeling for the rest of my life and keep thanking you, always.”
Jensen leaned down, and for a wild moment she thought he might kiss her right on stage, but he just kissed her cheek and gave her a hug. But his voice was low and seductive in her ear.
“You’re more than welcome, sweetheart, and thank you for yesterday, and hopefully, for later tonight too?”
He pulled back slightly and Y/N blushed at the look of hunger in his eye, but she nodded her head quickly. “God yes.”
His smile was wide as he squeezed her hand and helped her hop down from the chair, waving as she left the stage with Jared and tossing her a wink that made her right knee wobble slightly, so that Jared had to steady her.
He chuckled as he helped her down the stairs and then gave her a bear hug at the bottom. He whispered in Y/N’s ear as the band played loudly and Jensen sang joyfully with Rob.
“So you’re the one my boy wouldn’t shut up about last night. I know him pretty well, so I feel completely confident that I’ll see you again soon.” He shot her a grin and squeezed her shoulders.
Y/N moved off to the side, not bothering to go back to her seat, just looking up at the stage and knowing in heart of hearts that this weekend had changed her whole life.
Summary: While Jensen was away filming, a hurricane hit and you had to face it alone, burdened by a secret. When Jensen finally returned, relief and fear collided as you shared the news.
-requested-
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Warnings: Language, ANGST
Word Count: 6986
A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.
English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 🩷
Jensen had been gone for his new show in Los Angeles, filming for what felt like an eternity — over ten weeks now, with no real break in sight. The production schedule was tighter than ever due to unexpected delays when one of the main actors fell sick, which caused the entire shoot to be pushed back. You hadn’t seen him for over two months, and the distance was starting to weigh on you. There was no chance for quick weekend visits or even mid-week surprises. Everything had changed with this new project.
In those long ten weeks, Jensen had managed to get only three days off, and he used them to fly back to see his kids. You couldn’t fault him for that and you understood how much he missed them. Still, the loneliness lingered like an unwelcome shadow. Tomorrow, though, was supposed to be different. He was finally coming home, even if just for a week, and you had been counting down the days like a lifeline.
But now, as you stood by the large window overlooking the ocean, something inside you twisted with unease. The darkening skies in the distance mirrored the storm brewing in your mind. The TV in the background blared with warnings of severe weather rolling in from the Gulf, interrupting your thoughts with each alert. The meteorologist spoke of high winds and heavy rain, not quite enough to warrant an evacuation, but enough to make you feel a creeping sense of dread.
It had been two years since you and Jensen made the decision to move to Houston, settling into this beautiful, sprawling house right on the coastline. At the time, it seemed perfect. The ocean view, the sunsets over the water, the space and serenity. But now, as the storm warnings flashed across the screen, you wondered if you’d made the right decision. You had never been good with storms. The sound of the wind howling, the sharp crack of thunder — they had always sent shivers down your spine, leaving you feeling vulnerable and anxious.
The move to the Gulf of Mexico seemed impulsive now, in hindsight. Sure, Jensen loved it here, and the house was gorgeous, but you had always known this fear lurked deep inside you. Storms unsettled you, and the thought of facing one alone, without him by your side, only made it worse.
Your stomach twisted in knots as you pressed your forehead against the cool glass, watching the gray clouds gather on the horizon.
You groaned, feeling the frustration bubble up inside you. The anxiety gnawed at you, and the tension in your shoulders made it hard to relax. “Of all days”, you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself away from the window.
With a sigh, you grabbed your phone and dialed your best friend’s number, knowing she’d be awake even though she lived halfway across the world. Spain. Never having to deal with the heavy weather nonsense like hurricanes or tornadoes. You often teased her about how lucky she was to live in a country where the worst thing she had to worry about was a hot summer day or maybe some rain in the winter.
As you walked toward the kitchen, waiting for her to pick up, the soft ring of the phone seemed to be swallowed by the growing rumble of thunder outside. Your eyes drifted to the oven as you remembered the batch of chocolate cookies you’d put in earlier. Well, they were more Jensen’s favorite than yours.
The phone finally clicked, and your friend’s cheerful voice came through the speaker. “Hola, chica! What’s up?”.
You let out a heavy sigh as you reached for the kettle, flicking it on to make yourself some tea. “Hey… just trying to calm my nerves. We’ve got a storm rolling in, and you know how much I hate this stuff”.
“Storm? Ugh, I don’t envy you”, she replied with a sympathetic tone. “It’s like a whole other world over there, isn’t it? Here I am, in sunny Spain, sipping wine and you’re getting hit with storms again. Why did you agree to move to the Gulf in the first place?”.
You chuckled, a bit of bitterness in your voice as you pulled out a mug from the cabinet. “I have no idea. Jensen wanted the ocean, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. You know me—anything to make him happy. But every time a storm rolls in, I swear I regret it”.
As the kettle clicked off, you poured the hot water over the tea bag, the steam curling up into the air. You leaned against the counter, glancing at the oven timer. Just a few more minutes on the cookies. “I mean, I get it”, you continued, twirling the tea bag absentmindedly in the water. “He loves it here, and the house is beautiful, but I just can’t shake this fear. Every time the weather turns bad, I get this pit in my stomach. And it doesn’t help that he’s been away for so long. It’s hard to deal with all this on my own”.
She sighed on the other end of the line, her voice softening. “How long has he been gone this time?”.
You swallowed, staring down at the swirling tea in your mug. “Ten weeks”, you murmured, feeling the weight of that number pressing down on you. “Ten long weeks, and in all that time, he’s only had three days off. I get it, he used those to see his kids, which is exactly what he should do. But it’s just been… hard”.
Your friend stayed quiet for a moment, as if letting the words sink in. She knew how much you hated when Jensen was away for extended periods, especially when life got difficult. “Ten weeks… damn”, she finally said, her tone laced with sympathy. “That’s rough, chica. I know you’re strong, but that’s a lot, especially with this storm hitting now”.
You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, feeling the tension rise again as you heard another distant rumble of thunder. “It’s just been one thing after another lately”, you admitted, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “And now this storm… it’s not supposed to be anything major, but you know me. I hate this stuff. The wind, the rain, it freaks me out. Always has”.
Your friend’s voice softened even more. “I remember. Back when we used to talk late at night during storms, you’d be on edge, counting down the minutes until it passed. I can’t imagine being by the ocean during one”.
You sighed, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, and I’m here, in this huge house, by myself. Well, I’ve got Jensen’s cookies”, you added with a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but the fear still lingered beneath the surface.
“Wish I could teleport myself over there and keep you company”, she said warmly. “Though I’m not sure how much help I’d be. Maybe I could distract you with all my boring Spain stories. Sun, siestas, and sangria… You know, the usual”.
You smiled, even though it didn’t fully reach your eyes. “That sounds a hell of a lot better than storm prep and waiting for the power to go out”.
Another sigh escaped your friend. “You need a break from all this. Having him around will help, I’m sure”.
“Yeah, I hope so too”, you whispered, the longing for Jensen’s presence making your chest tighten. The thought of him walking through the door tomorrow, even for just a week, was the only thing keeping you grounded right now.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, the kind that stretched just a little too long, and you knew your friend was working up to something. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet, hesitant. “Have you… told him yet?”.
Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of her words settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. The unspoken truth between you, the one you had been avoiding for weeks. You took a shaky breath, gripping the edge of the counter for support as the familiar wave of anxiety washed over you again.
“No”, you whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear, your voice breaking slightly. “Not yet”.
Your friend didn’t rush to respond, giving you the space to gather your thoughts. You could almost hear the sympathy through the phone, her understanding of how complicated things had become. She knew you too well—knew the fear that had been gnawing at you since you first saw the two pink lines on the test, and how you had been holding onto that secret ever since, waiting for the right moment to break the news.
If there even was a “right moment”.
You closed your eyes, leaning back against the cool kitchen counter, the weight of your unspoken truth pressing down on your chest. “It’s not exactly something I can drop over the phone”, you added softly, more to yourself than to her.
“I know”, she said gently, her voice filled with understanding. “It’s definitely face-to-face news”.
You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes drifting toward the window where the dark clouds were still gathering. The irony wasn’t lost on you — the brewing storm outside wasn’t nearly as frightening as the one in your heart. Jensen had been so clear from the beginning, right from the very start of your relationship. He loved his kids, adored being their father, but he was done. He didn’t want more. He had been through the sleepless nights, the diapers, the chaos of raising young children, and he had made it crystal clear that he had no desire to go back to that. No more babies. No more starting over.
And now here you were, facing the very thing he never wanted. The very thing that might push him away, might change everything between you.
“I just…”. Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words. “He was so sure, you know? About not wanting more kids. He told me from the beginning that he was done, and I accepted that. I was okay with it because I love him. But now…”. You trailed off, biting your lip to stop your emotions from spilling over.
“Now, things are different”, she finished softly, filling in the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.
You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t even know how he’s going to react. What if he’s angry? What if this is the one thing that changes everything? I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t hide this forever. And the longer I wait, the harder it’s going to get”.
Your friend was quiet for a moment, letting the weight of your words settle. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with warmth and understanding. “You’re going to have to tell him, eventually. And yes, it’s probably going to be hard. But you know Jensen. He loves you. Whatever his initial reaction, that won’t change. He might need time to process it, but he’s not the type to just walk away”.
You sniffed, wiping at your eyes as a tear finally slipped free. “I know… I know that. But it’s just—he’s been gone for so long, and everything’s already so strained. What if this is the thing that breaks us?”.
There was a long silence on the other end, and for a moment you wondered if the call had dropped. But then your friend spoke, her voice quiet but firm. “This won’t break you. Not if you’re honest with him. It’s going to be tough, but you can’t carry this alone. You deserve to have someone beside you through all of it. And… he deserves to know”.
Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. “I just… I’m scared”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of how he’ll react, and I’m scared of what this will mean for us”.
“I know”, she said softly. “But you’re strong, and you can do this. And no matter what, I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone”.
You nodded again, grateful for her support even across the ocean. The sound of the timer beeping in the background startled you, pulling you from the heaviness of the moment. The cookies were done. You forced a small smile, trying to hold onto the sliver of normalcy that baking had given you.
“I’ll tell him when he comes home”, you said quietly, more to yourself than to her. “Face to face. It’s the only way”.
“You’re doing the right thing”, your friend assured you. “He loves you, and he’s going to be there for you, no matter what. Just give him time”.
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that”.
“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied warmly. “Now, go enjoy those cookies, okay? And try not to worry too much about tomorrow. One storm at a time”.
You laughed softly, a bittersweet sound. “Yeah… one storm at a time”.
As you hung up the phone and pulled the warm cookies from the oven, the weight of what lay ahead still hung in the air. Tomorrow, Jensen would come home, and with him, the conversation that would change everything. You could only hope that, like the storm outside, it would pass without too much damage.
You placed the tray of cookies on the counter, their rich chocolate scent filled the kitchen, momentarily grounding you in something warm and familiar. You stared down at them, freshly baked and perfectly round, thinking about how Jensen always joked that your cookies were better than any fancy dessert. It was such a small thing, but right now, it felt like a lifeline—a fleeting reminder of the simplicity that used to define your relationship before things became so complicated.
You couldn’t help but think back to when everything was easier, when his laugh could chase away any worry you had, and when you both felt invincible. But now, that invincibility felt fragile.
The soft rumble of thunder echoed through the house, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling smaller in the vastness of the empty space.
You leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the cookies, your mind already racing ahead to tomorrow. You could picture his face, the familiar crinkle of his eyes as he walked through the door, probably exhausted but happy to see you. And you knew that the moment would come when you'd have to break the news. You’d have to see his reaction, whatever it would be—whether it was surprise, disbelief, or the worst thing you could imagine… disappointment.
You closed your eyes, fighting back the sting of tears. Disappointment. That was what scared you the most.
No more kids.
He loved his children fiercely, but he had drawn that line firmly in the sand from the start. The thought of him looking at you with anything less than love in his eyes, anything less than the warmth and affection you had grown so used to, made your stomach churn.
The truth was, you hadn’t planned this. Neither of you had. And the timing couldn’t have been worse. He was in the middle of filming a new project, already stretched thin from the demands of his career. You had been doing your best to hold things together, to be patient, to give him the space he needed while you dealt with this on your own. But now the secret was too big to keep any longer.
And still, you hadn’t even allowed yourself to fully process the reality of it. The tiny life growing inside of you felt surreal, like a secret you were keeping even from yourself. There were moments when you could push it to the back of your mind, pretend it wasn’t real, but those moments were becoming fewer and further between. You couldn’t escape the truth any longer.
Tomorrow, he would be home. Tomorrow, you would have to tell him.
You placed your hands on your stomach, your fingers resting lightly, almost protectively, over the slight curve that had begun to form. It was still small, easy enough to hide under loose clothing, but you couldn’t hide it forever. And you didn’t want to. Not really. You wanted to share this with him, to let him in on the secret you had been carrying for weeks. But the fear… the fear of how he would react made it feel like an impossible task.
You took a deep, shaky breath and whispered into the quiet kitchen, as if saying it aloud would somehow prepare you for what was coming. “I’m pregnant”.
The words felt foreign on your tongue, and saying them aloud didn’t make the reality any easier to bear. But they were real. There was no taking them back now.
As you stood there, staring out the window into the growing storm, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.
Would he be angry? Shocked? Maybe he wouldn’t even know what to say at first. You played out a hundred scenarios in your mind, none of them feeling quite right. You couldn’t predict how he would react, but you knew that this was a conversation that would change everything. There was no going back once the truth was out.
The thunder rumbled again, closer this time, and you shivered despite the warmth of the kitchen. You reached for your tea and held the mug in your hands, seeking comfort from the warmth.
Just then, the phone rang, its sudden chime cutting through the quiet tension in the room. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flash across the screen. Jensen.
For a moment, you just stared at it, your stomach flipping nervously. The sound of his name on the screen, so familiar, so comforting, felt like a jolt to your already raw nerves. He wasn’t supposed to call until later, closer to his flight time. Your fingers trembled slightly as you swiped to answer, bringing the phone to your ear.
“Hey”, you greeted softly, trying to steady your voice, but you couldn’t help the slight quiver in it.
“Hey, sweetheart”, Jensen’s warm, familiar voice filled the line, and for just a second, you felt a rush of relief. “You okay? You sound a little off”.
You bit your lip, glancing out the window again, watching the heavy clouds roll in. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Just, you know, storm’s coming in, and I’m alone in the house. I’m probably overreacting, as usual”.
He chuckled softly, that deep, rich sound that used to make you feel safe. “You and storms, huh? You’ve always hated them. It’s just a little rain though, right? Nothing to worry about”.
“Yeah, just rain”, you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as the truth of what you were really afraid of sat heavy in your chest. But you couldn’t tell him now, not like this, over the phone. Not when he was hours away. Not when he was expecting you to be waiting at home, smiling, with cookies on the counter.
There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost hear the tension in Jensen’s voice, like he wanted to say more but was holding back. Then he spoke, and his tone was apologetic, laced with that familiar warmth that you loved so much.
“Hey, I’ve got to get back to filming in a minute”, he said gently, “but I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re okay”.
Your heart sank a little at his words. Even though you hadn’t expected this call, the idea of him hanging up so soon, when you were craving any sense of normalcy, left you feeling hollow. But you forced a small smile into your voice, pushing aside the anxiety for his sake.
“Okay”, you replied softly, clutching the phone a little tighter. “I’ll be fine. The house is safe, and I’ve got enough cookies to last a week, even if the power goes out”.
He laughed again, that low, comforting sound that almost made you forget about the storm inside you. “You’re always prepared, huh?”.
“Trying to be”, you said, though the weight of the secret you were carrying made you feel anything but.
There was another pause, and you heard some shuffling in the background—probably crew members calling for him. He sighed. “Listen, I’ve got to run, but I’ll call you as soon as I’m at the airport later, okay?”.
“Thanks, Jensen”, you whispered, the sound of his name bringing a soft warmth to your heart despite everything. “I’ll be okay. Be safe, alright?”.
“I will. You hang in there, alright? I’ll talk to you in a few hours”. His voice softened, and you could picture him standing there, probably with that concerned look he got when he knew you weren’t telling him everything.
“I will”, you promised, though inside, you knew it was going to be a long few hours.
“Love you”, he added quickly, and those words, like always, wrapped around you like a blanket.
“Love you too”, you whispered, knowing how much you meant it, but feeling the weight of the untold truth settling even heavier on your chest.
Then the call ended, and the silence rushed back into the room, the steady beat of the rain against the windows the only sound left.
You stood there for a moment, gripping the phone like it was an anchor. The storm outside was getting louder, the wind picking up, rattling the windows just enough to send a shiver down your spine.
As evening fell, you found yourself standing in front of the large living room windows again, staring out at the angry ocean. The waves were crashing violently against the shore, each one louder than the last, and the dark sky was lit up intermittently by flashes of lightning far in the distance. For the past hour, heavy rain had been pounding against the house, making any thoughts of sleep seem impossible. You hadn’t even bothered trying to settle down—there was no way you could rest with the storm growing more intense by the minute.
The wind had picked up, howling through the trees that lined the edge of your property, bending them until they looked as though they would snap. The way the branches thrashed made your chest tighten with anxiety. This was more than just a little rain. The storm outside was quickly turning into something far more dangerous.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to fight the creeping sense of fear that had been building inside you all day. It was hard to focus on anything else—the looming conversation with Jensen, the storm that seemed intent on tearing apart everything outside your door. You tried to drown out the worry by turning on the TV for the latest updates, hoping for some reassurance, but just as you were about to settle on the couch, the power flickered.
And then, everything went dark.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you stood frozen in place, listening to the sudden silence that filled the room. Even the hum of the refrigerator had gone quiet. No lights, no TV, no comforting glow from the oven clock. You fumbled for your phone, but a quick glance at the screen showed what you had feared: no signal. The storm had knocked out the power, and with it, your connection to the outside world.
You were alone.
A cold knot of fear twisted in your stomach. The walls around you felt suffocating, and the sound of the storm outside—the rain pounding against the windows, the wind howling like a creature trying to claw its way inside—made the house feel smaller than it had ever felt before. The darkness seemed endless, swallowing up the comforting familiarity of your home, and all you could do was stand there, staring at your reflection in the glass as the storm raged beyond.
And then, your thoughts went to Jensen.
Somewhere far away, sitting in an airport, blissfully unaware of how much the storm had escalated. The last time you had spoken, he had laughed, reassured you that it was just a little rain. But this… this was something else. You wondered if he had seen the news, if he knew how bad it was getting here. You couldn’t even warn him now, couldn’t tell him to stay safe, to stay put.
Meanwhile, in LA, Jensen sat in the crowded terminal, his phone in hand as he absentmindedly scrolled through old texts from you, his mind somewhere between exhaustion and the anticipation of finally coming home. He’d been waiting for what felt like hours, his flight delayed over and over again. The storm back home had been on his mind, but nothing in the forecast had seemed serious when he last checked. Just some heavy rain, maybe a little wind, but nothing out of the ordinary for Houston this time of year.
That was until an announcement echoed over the loudspeakers, the sound snapping him back to the present. The terminal buzzed with confusion as people around him started looking at their phones, murmurs rising into a collective hum of concern.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that all flights to Houston have been canceled due to an unexpected hurricane forming off the Gulf. Please make your way to the customer service desks for further instructions”.
Jensen’s heart sank as the words hit him. Hurricane? He immediately stood, his fingers instinctively dialing your number, but there was no response. Nothing. He tried again, and again, but each call went straight to voicemail.
His stomach churned with worry, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He had told you it was just a little rain, that everything would be fine. And now, a hurricane was bearing down on you, and he couldn’t reach you. He couldn’t even warn you.
The flight staff were swamped, passengers crowding around them, demanding answers, but Jensen didn’t care about the chaos around him. All he could think about was you—sitting in that house by the ocean, alone, probably terrified, with no way to reach him. He could see it in his mind, how you would be pacing around the house, trying to stay calm while the storm raged on outside. You hated storms. You always had.
And now, this.
He looked at the flight board, the bright red letters spelling out “CANCELED”, and felt utterly helpless. There was no way out tonight, no way to get to you. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried calling one more time, but once again, it went straight to voicemail.
Jensen clenched his phone tightly, his mind racing through all the possible options. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sit here, waiting, while the storm got worse. He needed to get to you, somehow, but there was no plan, no idea of how bad it really was back in Houston.
Meanwhile, back in the house, you stared out into the blackness beyond the window, the storm surging with more force than you could have imagined. The trees bent and cracked, the waves crashing against the shore with an almost terrifying strength. You had never felt so vulnerable. You had never felt so alone.
And Jensen, the one person you needed most, was miles away, waiting in an airport for a flight that wasn’t coming.
You pressed your hand against the cold glass, feeling the world outside crumble under the force of nature, and inside, you crumbled a little too.
The wind had reached a deafening pitch, and every gust felt like it was trying to tear the house apart. You could barely think over the sound of it—like a train barreling through, unstoppable and unforgiving. The trees outside the windows were bent almost horizontal, their branches flailing wildly in the storm’s fury. You could hear debris slamming against the house, the sharp cracks of branches breaking, and the deep, menacing roar of the ocean as the waves crashed closer and closer.
You glanced out the window and felt your blood run cold. The waves were rising—towering, dark, and violent—crashing up the shore with a terrifying force, each one creeping closer and closer to your porch. The stilts that your house rested on were supposed to protect you, but right now, even those massive beams felt fragile against the raw power of the storm.
A sudden surge of panic washed over you, stronger than any wave outside. You couldn't stay here, not with the ocean threatening to swallow everything. Your breath came faster, chest tightening as the reality of the hurricane fully hit you. This was no ordinary storm; this was the nightmare you’d always feared would come to life when you moved here. You needed to get away from the windows, away from the view of the violent ocean that made your heart pound with terror.
Without thinking, you spun on your heel and practically ran through the house, your footsteps quick and uneven as the wind rattled the walls. You headed straight for the guest room—one of the few rooms that didn’t face the ocean. It was smaller, tucked away in the corner of the house, but right now it felt like the only place that could give you even the slightest illusion of safety.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you reached the door and pushed it open, the beam of your phone trembling slightly from your shaking hands. You slammed the door behind you and leaned against it, breathing hard, trying to steady yourself. The room was dark, save for the dim glow of the phone, but at least here, you couldn’t see the ocean rising, threatening, looming.
Still, the storm raged around you, the wind howling and shaking the house. The walls creaked under the force of the gusts, and you swore you could feel the entire structure sway. The sound of the ocean never left your mind, though, the memory of those waves reaching higher and higher still vivid in your thoughts. You sank onto the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you could ward off the fear creeping through your veins.
You needed Jensen. His presence would have grounded you, would have been the anchor you needed right now to feel even remotely safe. But he wasn’t here. You were alone. Alone in a house you weren’t sure could withstand the storm.
And then, the overwhelming sense of dread came crashing in again, accompanied by the helplessness of being completely cut off. No phone signal, no lights, no contact. The only thing louder than the storm outside was the storm inside you—the fear, the uncertainty, the crushing feeling of isolation.
Meanwhile, Jensen sat in the crowded airport terminal, his phone in his hands, staring at the same unchanging screen. The calls weren’t going through. He tried again, his heart thudding in his chest, each failed attempt making the knot of worry tighten further. Every time the call went straight to voicemail, it felt like a blow to his gut.
“Come on… pick up, baby”, he muttered to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. But still, nothing. Only that dead silence on the other end.
He felt sick. He couldn’t stop replaying the conversation from earlier in the day. He’d brushed off your fears, reassured you that it was just rain. You’d been nervous, but he had laughed it off, told you it was no big deal. “Just a little rain”, he’d said. Now, with a hurricane bearing down on Houston, those words felt like a cruel joke.
Jensen’s leg bounced anxiously as he stared at his phone, willing it to connect. He knew you were scared—he knew how much you hated storms, how even a thunderstorm would have you on edge. But this wasn’t just a thunderstorm. This was a hurricane, and you were alone, sitting in that house by the ocean, probably terrified out of your mind.
He had never felt so helpless. All the money in the world, all his connections, none of it mattered now. He was grounded, unable to fly home, stuck in a terminal while the storm raged on miles away, separating him from you. The worst part was not knowing what was happening. Were you okay? Was the house holding up? Had you found a safe place? Or were you sitting there, terrified, with no one to comfort you?
Jensen pressed the call button again, even though he knew what would happen. He didn’t care. He had to keep trying, had to do something.
When the call went to voicemail again, he groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. This was his worst nightmare. He had promised to keep you safe, to be there when you needed him, and now, in the middle of the worst storm either of you had ever faced, he was stuck a thousand miles away, powerless to help.
All he could think about was your voice, that soft quiver in it when you’d mentioned the storm earlier. He should have heard the fear in your words. He should have known. But he’d been so focused on work, so focused on getting through the day, that he hadn’t really listened.
Jensen felt the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, heavier with each failed attempt to reach you. He needed to hear your voice, needed to know you were okay. But every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and the storm was only getting worse.
He glanced up at the airport monitors, the word CANCELED in bright red letters next to his flight number. His chest tightened. He wasn’t getting out of here tonight. He wasn’t getting to you.
For the first time in a long time, Jensen felt completely powerless.
Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity. The wind outside had grown impossibly louder, the relentless howl of the storm wrapping itself around the house. You sat on the edge of the bed, your knees pulled up to your chest, listening to the chaos unfold outside. Then, you heard something—a deep, ominous rumbling that shook the walls, so loud and unfamiliar that it made your heart leap into your throat.
Your breath caught. What was that? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what had caused the sound, but it sent a wave of terror rushing through you. For a moment, you stayed frozen in place, every nerve in your body telling you to stay put, to not move. But curiosity, or maybe survival instinct, finally won over, and you shakily stood up, the beam of your phone barely steady in your trembling hand.
You tried to think logically—the cars. Bu both, yours and Jensen’s cars, were parked in the massive garage, safe when you had checked earlier. But now, with the storm surging stronger by the minute, you couldn’t be sure. What if the garage was already flooded? What if the rumbling had come from something hitting the house? The thought of the water rising higher, creeping into your home, made your stomach turn with dread. The waves had already reached your porch by the time you ran into the guest room, and there was no telling how much worse it had gotten since then.
You hesitated for a moment, then slowly climbed toward the small window at the far end of the guest room. The wind was howling so fiercely outside that it felt like the house was swaying beneath your feet, but you had to know what was happening out there.
As you approached the window, you felt a new wave of fear wash over you. The sky was black, save for the occasional, blinding crack of lightning that tore through the clouds, illuminating the storm for a brief, horrifying second at a time. You pressed your face against the glass, trying to peer through the rain, your breath fogging up the window. But it was too dark—way too dark.
You couldn’t see anything.
Your hands were trembling as you wiped at the fog on the glass, your tears only making it harder to focus. Everything outside was a blur—dark shapes, shadows, the sound of the storm so loud. You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision, but the tears kept coming, clouding your sight. It was no use. The storm had swallowed everything.
All you wanted was to see if the other houses were still standing, to know if someone else out there was going through the same terror you were, but the storm had cut you off from everything. You were truly alone.
Your sobs came in short, ragged gasps as you turned away from the window, sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The fear, the loneliness—it was suffocating. You tried to breathe, tried to calm yourself, but every time you closed your eyes, you saw those waves, rising higher and higher, threatening to consume everything.
Jensen’s face flashed in your mind—his voice on the phone earlier, laughing it off, telling you it was just a little rain. How you wished he was here now, his arms around you, telling you it would all be okay. But he wasn’t. He was miles away, probably sitting at the airport, just as helpless as you were, waiting for a flight that wasn’t coming. And you hated that he couldn’t reach you, hated that you couldn’t even tell him how scared you were, how much you needed him.
Back at the airport, Jensen stood from his seat, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the departure board. He tried your number again, pressing the phone to his ear as he paced back and forth near the gate. He couldn’t stay still—couldn’t stop the gnawing panic that had taken hold of him ever since the storm had escalated.
Voicemail again.
“Damn it”, he muttered under his breath, his frustration boiling over as he ended the call and tried again. The same result. He could feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to spill over into full-blown fear. You hadn’t answered in hours, and now there was no way to reach you.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”, he muttered to himself, his fingers tightening around the phone. He couldn’t stand this—being so far away from you when you needed him the most. All he could think about was how he’d dismissed your fear earlier, how he’d brushed off the storm as no big deal. And now? Now he’d give anything to take those words back, to tell you that he should have been more worried.
The airport was buzzing with frustrated passengers, but Jensen couldn’t focus on any of them. The only thing on his mind was you, alone in that house by the ocean, and the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest.
He tried your number one more time, holding his breath as it rang, hoping against hope that this time, you’d answer. But when the call went to voicemail again, he felt his heart sink.
You stayed awake the entire night, your body too tense, your mind too restless to even think about sleep. The sound of the storm had been relentless, the howling wind and crashing waves making it impossible to focus on anything but the raw terror building inside you. For hours, you sat on the bed, curled up in a huge blanket, staring at the window as if waiting for the next strike.
You couldn’t bring yourself to pick up a book or distract your mind with anything else. It was like your brain refused to let go of the constant anxiety, clinging to the fear of what might happen next. The storm’s roar had felt endless, and with no way to check on the outside world, you could only imagine the worst. Every thud, every creak of the house made your heart jump, and your mind raced with thoughts of what might have been happening beyond the walls.
By the time the storm began to fade, just before dawn, you were so exhausted that you didn’t even notice when your eyelids finally began to droop. The wind had quieted, the rain now a soft patter compared to the chaos from hours before. Somewhere in that stillness, you drifted off without realizing it, your body giving in to the exhaustion and fear that had kept you alert all night.
Warnings: Lots and lots of Angst, language, Jensen being a dick (sorry)-all chapters have individual warnings.
A/N: Just kinda in my head and feelings today…This story just popped in my head. Not sure how many chapters, I’ll play it by ear. I had to get this out before I could finish any of my other stories. 🫤 This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. All work is my own and absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. No idea why my head is filled with this story…..it’s brutal. Please overlook any errors.
Minors DNI 18+
Part 1
Part 2
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In the comics, Victor von Doom tricks Tony Stark into an experiment where his mind is transferred to Tony's body while Tony's mind is transferred to Doom's body with his memory erased.
I get people are iffy, but i think theyre paying respects to the comics in a way, and what better way to pay them respects than getting iron man himself to play Doom and that’s what alot of people dont realize is that tony stark was Doom.
RDJ said before it would have to be a compelling story line to get him to come back.
RDJ nails every single role he has ever played and i have no doubt this one will be no different. We have the multiverse within the movies now. Theres not just one world. Theres a billion ways they can take this.
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