#Van Dusen Botanical Garden | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trektraveler · 2 years

Text

Nightingale Chapter Sixteen: The Fourth Wall

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Sixteen: The Fourth Wall

Word Count: 4176

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

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing!

Additional Notes: The response to this story has been beyond my expectations! You guys have been the best! Thank you for continuing to read my work and encourage me, its kept my eye on the prize :) Additional Additional Notes: THANK YOU! Seriously... thank you all for sticking around for this. Some of you know the struggles I've been dealing with , some of you don't, but it doesn't matter. I am grateful for the support of each and every one of you who keeps coming back to read this story. This chapter really gave me trouble, I hope it was worth the wait.

Series Masterlist

Both your phone and Jensen’s buzzed at the same time. You knew who it was before you even looked.

“Solomon,” he said, scrolling through the details of the text. “Jesus. This itinerary reads like a weekend convention circuit. Seriously, who goes out this much?”

“Breakfast and strolling at the Ester Short Park farmer’s market. Tour of the Van Dusen Botanical Gardens. Coffee at Shaughnessy’s. Window shopping downtown. Couples’ yoga. Oohh! Tickets to Hamilton on Friday night!”

Jensen’s brow crinkled and those little disapproving brackets appeared at the corners of his mouth. “Yoga? Seriously? I don’t have that…”

You lifted a shoulder in a shrug, “Couples Tantric Yoga at Good Vibrations Studios. Wow… the room is heated to 105 degrees to sweat in tandem with your partner. Open your chakras and your bodies to this intimate practice first discovered in the unpublished Kama Sutra. Wow, I didn’t know they bent that way…”

That had him grabbing your phone. “Seriously?! Fucking Solomon signed us up for sweaty sex yoga?!”

The indignant bluster blew out of his sails a moment later and you broke into laughter.

“You’re hilarious,” he deadpanned.

Your mischievous grin only grew, “You seem disappointed! Why don’t we call and see if they can squeeze us in to the class on Sunday?”

You made a grab for the phone, and he held it over his head, out of reach. Dodging your hands and tickling you at the same time. Your attempts to tickle him back had no effect and only made him double his efforts. Torturing you until you were practically crying with giggles. Suddenly, he hoisted you over his shoulder, bouncing you a bit as he walked through the apartment.

“Jensen! That’s cheating!” You laughed as you squirmed in his grasp.

He tossed you down on the bed in a giggling mess then threw himself down beside you. “There’s no cheating when there’s no rules, Sweetheart.”

You tried to catch your breath as he moved strands of blonde hair away from your face. “You aren’t even ticklish.”

“Used to be, my older brother would sit on me and torture tickle me until I peed my pants.”

“How’d you get over it?”

“I found ways to distract myself,” he murmured, his eyes flickering over your face.

“Mind over matter?”

“Something like that.”

The two of you had shared countless kisses, but you never grew tired of them. Your heartrate kicked up the moment his lips touched yours, excitement heating your blood the same today as it did the first time. His strong hands roamed your body, seeking out the secret places that responded so readily. You yielded to his touch and surrendered on a sigh.

He ended the kiss before he could get too carried away. The FBI had the whole place bugged and the two of you agreed early on that there would be no sex until this mess was behind you. He pulled you up against him and placed a kiss to your hairline.

“Better?”

You nodded, relaxing into his embrace. Your eyes closed as he threaded his fingers through your hair and gently massaged the nape of your neck. He always did that when your migraines were bad. Once your concussion healed, they were practically gone but with all the stress of the investigation, they were back with a vengeance.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured into his chest. “About earlier.”

“It was an understandable reaction, that guy came up out of nowhere. I didn’t even see him come up behind us.”

“I nearly had a panic attack in the middle of the street. I probably traumatized your poor fans.”

“Yeah, well I traumatize them every Thursday night so, they’re used to it by now,” Jensen joked, moving his hand to stroke your back. “How can I help, baby? Tell me what I can do to make it better.”

“I don’t know if it can get much better. I mean, Solomon sends us pictures of the under-cover agents every day. Both of us are wearing tracking devices. This place is completely wired and under surveillance. Everything we do is planned out to the last detail. I know we are as safe as we can be I just… I can’t stop thinking about him.” Your chest immediately grew tight, and you fought to keep your breathing under control.

“Every time we leave this apartment, I’m looking for him. I’m searching the faces of everyone we pass, wondering if the next one I see will be his. I feel like a little kid, scared of the boogey man is hiding in the closet!”

“Is that why you’ve been leaving the bathroom light on at night?”

“Maybe,” you muttered. “I know it’s stupid.”

“It’s justified.”

“Maybe,” you said again. “I wish I could be as calm as you are in crowds. It never seems to rattle you.”

“Oh, I’m rattled, believe me. But I’ve got a job to do, and I just focus on it. Nothing is more important than that, everything else falls away.”

“You mean acting?”

“I mean taking care of you,” he curled a finger under your chin, coaxing your gaze to meet his. “We’re in it together. Every day, it’s you and me, Sweetheart.”

“Stronger together.” You said it at the same time he did. It had become your mantra over the past two weeks.

It was your prayer to each other. You said every time you set foot outside of the safety bubble of your apartment. Every time the two of you stopped for pictures with fans. Every time the paparazzi followed the two of you through a public park or into a restaurant. Every time you needed reassurance, Jensen would squeeze your hand and whisper it in your ear.

It worked well to calm your nerves. At first. But as time dragged on with no sign of Arthur Green, the pressure and anxiety built. You were jumpy, bordering on paranoid. When that aggressive fan popped up as you were crossing the boulevard, it triggered a reaction so severe that Jensen’s magic phrase didn’t work. You were so shaken up that the two of you went directly home, despite not completing the daily agenda.

“I just wish I could do a better job in all this. I know I’m supposed to look happy and carefree… Green’s never going to show himself if he thinks this is a trap.” You sighed and fiddled with the buttons on Jensen’s shirt. “I’ve never had much of a poker face.”

“Everyone has a poker face; you just have to find your focus. That’s all acting is, really. Keeping your focus.”

“I guess that’s why you’re the actor and I’m the doctor.”

A thoughtful look crossed his face, as if he’d just realized the answer to a difficult crossword. His clear, green eyes lit with enthusiasm, and he sat up, tugging you with him.

“Come on, I’ve got an idea.”

“What are we doing in your closet?” You asked from your cross-legged position on the carpeted floor.

Jensen closed the door and stuffed a rolled-up towel against the threshold so that not even a sliver of light could peek through. “We’re creating the fourth wall.”

“What?”

He walked to the bank of drawers along the back wall and searched through the contents. “It’s an old actor’s trick, you’ll see.”

He returned with one of his silk ties in his hand. It was a subtle blue on blue paisley pattern that he wore on one of your dates ages ago.

He handed it to you and sat on the floor across from you, folding his bowed legs up with a grunt.

“I love this tie.”

“I know you do,” he smiled softly at you. “Do you remember that night? That little Italian place around the corner from your hospital?”

“Of course, I do.”

It had been a week since you and Jensen reconciled. You held strong to your decision not to move back in with him. You were determined to take things slow and not fall back into old patterns. You wanted this to last, you both did and that meant rebuilding trust. The man didn’t make it easy though!

For his part, Jensen was the perfect gentleman. Sweet, attentive, respectful, funny, charming. Good morning texts and calls during his down time on set. He invited you over for dinner midweek, made your favorite spaghetti and even sent you home with leftovers for lunch. There were bone melting kisses and hand holding, but he never initiated anything more. He wanted you to set the pace.

On Friday, you arrived at work and found a shallow planter the size of a hubcap overflowing with an array of tiny, blue flowers waiting for you. Along with a card.

Have a great day, gorgeous! – Love, J

Val came up beside you, her eyes wide, “Wow! Who sent you those?”

You grinned and ran your fingers over the bright, bell-shaped blossoms. “They’re from Jensen.”

“Really? Anniversary or apology?”

You slipped the small card into the pocket of your lab coat, “Neither.”

“Come on, he must have done something. No guy sends…. What kind of flowers are they?”

“Bluebonnets. Texas Bluebonnets.”

“Right. Anyway, there’s a reason for them. You just don’t know what it is yet.”

You floated through your whole shift. Not even Val’s cynicism could dampen your mood. You didn’t have time to send Jensen anything more than a thank you text, but you were determined to show your appreciation. Maybe you’d invite him over for dinner at your place. Best to order in, given your abysmal cooking skills. Or maybe just dessert…

You were just about to clock out when you were paged over the intercom. You picked up line four holding for you.

“This is Doctor Baines.”

“Gabs?”

“Tony, what’s up?”

“I need you for a consult, do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Cardiology, Room 202.”

A few short minutes later you opened the door to 202, instead of a cardiac patient, you found Jensen. Looking like he just stepped out of the pages of GQ. His dark blue suit was tailored, pressed and perfect. Crisp shirt, matching blue tie and a trio of bluebonnets in his lapel.

He smiled in that way that made his eyes crinkle and made you melt. “Hiya Sweetheart.”

You leaned against the door so that it clicked behind you. “Mr. Ackles. You are looking remarkably well for a man in the cardiac ward.”

“Oh, I’m in rough shape, doc.” He placed a dramatic hand over his heart. “My ticker’s going crazy!”

You bit your bottom lip; he really was too cute! “Is that so?”

“Yeah! Every time I see this girl, it’s like my heart’s going to beat right out of my chest.”

“Sound serious.”

“You think so?”

“Heart palpitations are nothing to dismiss out of hand.” You pulled your stethoscope from around your neck, “I think I better check you over.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he drawled.

You placed a hand in the center of his chest and firmly walked him backwards, your gaze holding his until the back of his legs bumped the exam table. Wordlessly, you patted the table. He lifted himself up with ease, the sterile paper crinkled under his weight.

“I hope you won’t mind if I get a little… close,” you said, gently urging his knees apart so you could stand in the vacant space between his legs.

His voice dipped deep. “I’m in your hands.”

You started with his tie, reaching up to loosen the perfectly executed knot. A tug and the fine fabric came free easily. It sounded like a hushed whisper as it moved against the starched shirt to pool in your hand. His Adam’s apple bobbed as you moved on to the tiny button holding the collar closed. You knew if you looked at him, your resolve would evaporate, so you concentrated on your task. Button by button. Inch by inch. You stopped halfway to put the earpieces in place and warm the bell of the stethoscope with your breath.

You slid the bell against the taut, tanned skin of his pectoral and let it rest over his heart. A smile curved your lips as you heard his heart thumping, strong and steady. No better sound in the world. Although, the longer you kept your hand there, the faster that rhythm got.

“Your heartrate is elevated.”

“What do I do, doc?”

“A little test, see how you respond to stimuli.”

“Sounds intense.”

This time you risked looking up, those green eyes of his had turned a shade darker and you felt your own heart leap in response.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Keeping the bell anchored over his heart, you leaned up and captured his lips with your own. Kissing Jensen was as much a revelation today as it was the first time. He expressed so many things in those moments of intense connection. Passion and joy. Exuberant love, romance… sharp desire. Solace and devotion. It was the language spoken by souls that met and matched.

The kiss deepened, his arms went around you and the staccato beat faster through the earpieces as his heart picked up pace. Urgency grew.

You nipped his bottom lip slightly as you pulled away, earning a groan from him. “You’re killing me, Sweetheart.”

“Not today. I can confirm, your heart is in perfect working order.”

“Good thing, I kinda need it.” He snagged the stethoscope from you with a smirk, “My turn.”

Not one to shrink from a challenge, you hopped up beside him, “Do your worst, Doctor Ackles.”

Somehow, he made the mundane tools of your profession look incredibly sexy. You didn’t exactly have a doctor kink, but you’d develop one in a hurry if he kept it up. A serious look swept over his features, and you knew you were in trouble. In measured movements, he slipped his hand holding the bell under the scoop neckline of your shirt.

You knew the moment he found his mark because his face transformed to reflect wonder. It was an incredibly intimate act to hear the life thrumming in another human being. He simply listened, as if he was trying to memorize it, hear the music of it. You were so mesmerized by his experience that you failed to notice his other hand until it found your breast.

You gasped.

His eyebrows rose a fraction, but did not move his hand, “Everything okay?”

At your nod, he smiled and continued. Monitoring your heartrate as he explored the curves and concaves he knew so well. Noting how the rhythm increased when he ran his thumb over the nipple straining under the layers of cotton. How the beat skipped when his tongue found that secret place just below your earlobe. Hot kisses down the column of your neck to the hollow where your clavicles met brought your hands up to rake through his hair. He sucked the skin slightly while his hand traced the inner line of your leg. Your heart galloped along wildly and when he palmed you through your scrubs, you breathed his name.

Your head fell back, “Jensen…”

An annoying beep from his jacket pocket that broke the spell. He stopped ravishing you long enough to check his phone, “Ooh! We gotta go!”

You sat up dazed and trying to catch your breath, “Go? Now?”

He hopped off the table and straightened his suit, smoothing out the wrinkles caused by your make-out session.

“Reservations at Marco’s.”

You eyed him suspiciously, “You… did you deliberately get me all excited just to tease me?”

His shrug was innocent, but the sparkle in his eyes gave him away. He held a hand to you, “I just wanted to make sure you had a good appetite worked up.”

You took his hand and narrowed your blue eyes at him, “Okay. But we’re getting dessert to go!”

“Only if you bring your stethoscope, doc,” he replied while brushing a kiss across your knuckles with a wink.

“When I was twenty-eight, I was in a live production of A Few Good Men. I hadn’t performed on stage like that since high school. And I was really nervous, like shaking in my boots, throwing up backstage terrified! My parents were there, Danneel was there… a ton of Supernatural fans showed up too.”

“You had stage fright? But you’d been an actor for… what, a decade at that point?”

“Television is different. If I screw up, we can just do another take. A live performance takes a different level of concentration. People in the audience whisper or forget to turn off their phones. Someone drops something backstage, or your co-star forgets their lines. Anything can happen. That’s where the fourth wall comes in, imagine there is an invisible wall between you and the audience. That the stage is a completely enclosed. It’s your world, nothing else exists. Its just you and whoever you are sharing that stage with.”

You looked down at the blue tie in your hands, “That sounds like something that comes with practice. It took you years to perfect your craft, I can’t get to that level in an afternoon.”

“It’s simpler than you think. Acting is really just reacting,” he said with a smile, “Besides, you had plenty of cram sessions in med school.”

“I suppose so.”

“Good. Now, I want you to look around this space. Commit the details of it to memory. Wall color, carpet color, shelves, racks, shoes… all of it. Everything you can see.”

You tried to give him back the tie, thinking it wasn’t part of the exercise and he shook his head, “Nuh uh. You keep that, you’ll need it.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, wrapping the tie around your left hand nervously. You felt like you were failing, and you hadn’t even started.

Jensen reached out and stilled your hands with his own, “Hey, deep breath. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s just you and me here, this is our own little world. Everything outside that door, that’s them. No one else can come in here, ever. We’re safe here. Just you and me.”

“Stronger together,” you murmured.

“Stronger together,” he repeated back. “Close your eyes.”

You did as instructed. He released your hands and sat back, “Deep breath, in and out. Again. Good girl, relax. Let the tension melt from your muscles and drain away. Deep breath… good. Very good.”

You loved his voice; it was warm and had a deep resonance that put you at ease. The cadence of his instructions had an almost hypnotic quality and you felt yourself sinking into it.

“How do you feel?”

“Good,” you said with a sigh, “Kind of floaty.”

“The tie in your hands. How does it feel?”

You rubbed the material between your fingers, “Smooth. Cool, like a mountain lake.”

“Good,” he praised again. “Now, I want you to picture the closet in your mind. Put it together with the details you saw only moments ago.”

You frowned slightly, rubbing the silk in your hands like a worry stone.

“It’s just you and me here, Y/N. It’s our world, our safe place. Tell me what you see.”

“Clothes.”

He waited a beat, “Anything else?”

“Um… the door?”

“Dig a little deeper, Harvard.”

“My annoying boyfriend.”

Jensen held back a sigh, determined not to break the spell. “Try scent, how does it smell?”

“Good,” you huffed out in frustration. The tension was building back up in your shoulders and your ass was starting to fall asleep from sitting on the floor. You found yourself wondering if it was too late to run away to Bermuda. You took another deep breath and caught something you hadn’t noticed before.

“Cedar. You keep those little cedar balls in the sock drawer.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Tom Ford… um… that vanilla one I like.”

He grinned, you told him it was your favorite and he bought three bottles just to make sure he always had some on hand. “Vanilla Tobacco.”

“Fabric softener, there are dryer sheets in the vents… and there is an air vent somewhere behind me, its blowing on my shirt. The woodwork in here is light, the rest of the apartment is dark, in here it’s not. Your clothes are arranged by type and then by color. Same for the shoes, which you have an insane amount of. Everything is on those expensive hangers you love so much. Oh! And you have two whole drawers devoted to watches.”

“Good job, open your eyes, Sweetheart.”

As you did, he took the tie from your hands and cut it neatly in half with his pocketknife.

“Jay!”

He took your left arm and tied the narrow end around your wrist, “This tie is your tether to this space. Every time you feel anxious or scared, I want you to feel that silk against your skin and remember how it felt to be here. Come back to this safe place where it’s just you and me.”

He held the other half of the tie out to you along with his left arm. You followed his example and fastened it around his wrist to match yours. When you were done, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Jensen pulled you down to sit on his lap and held you close.

“I’ve got you,” he vowed, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “Always.”

Three days later, you and Jensen were at yet another public outing. This time it was Shakespeare in the park. At this point you were so sick of concerts, romantic dinners, and date nights that you were ready to tear your hair out. At least it was your favorite play, Much Ado About Nothing. Comedy always beats tragedy.

The place was packed, no surprise given the beautiful weather. There were vendors selling everything from Italian Ice to Chicken and Waffles on a stick. Street musicians busked, kids played in the fountain, couples necked under shade trees, dogs trotted along happily with their owners. It was idyllic.

Maybe it was the sunshine or the actor’s trick Jensen taught you, either way, you felt good. Relaxed. Even when a group of fans gathered around for pictures and autographs, you felt centered and calm.

“Oh my gosh! You two are so cute together!” A younger girl gushed.

“Can we get your picture too?” another asked you, “Are you really a doctor?”

Jensen pulled you to his side and slung an arm around your shoulders, while you smiled up at him. It was your typical couple in love pose. He kissed your temple and every girl in eyesight sighed.

“I am a doctor. As a matter of fact, you should get your friend there some water and shade,” you replied motioning to a swaying, giggling girl heading for the margarita truck. “Maybe no more alcohol for today?”

“Check out my girl,” Jensen said as the group wandered happily away, “Signing autographs, saving lives.”

“Saving her from a hangover maybe,” you replied, lacing your fingers through his as you strolled. “People tend to underestimate the effects of drinking on days like this.”

“We’ve got about ten more minutes before the intermission is over, want to head back?”

“Yeah, um maybe hit the bathroom first?”

You entered the surprisingly empty ladies’ room while Jensen waited for you just outside the door. You couldn’t wait for this FBI business to be over so you could go to the bathroom alone, like a normal person.

You were just washing your hands when the door swung open and a couple of the girls from the earlier group stumbled in, including the drunk one. You gave a polite nod and stepped out of their way, but it wasn’t quick enough to avoid a collision. The three of you ended up in a tangle on the floor, two of them giggling and you, definitely not.

“Are you two alright,” you asked, trying to keep your composure.

The tipsy girl threw her head back and laughed, rolling back on the floor. The other one shook her head in disgust.

“Ugh, Jesus Suzie! Bitch never could hold her booze.”

You felt dizzy. And unbearably hot! You tried to get up, but your muscles didn’t respond. Something wasn’t right.

You called for Jensen, but your tongue was heavy in your mouth. All that came out was a garbled mess. You felt your heart begin to race as you panicked and your vision blurred.

“Gee, you seem a little green around the gills, Doctor West.”

The sober girl was standing at one of the sinks, studying her face in the mirror as she spoke. Her clothes hung loose on her long, wiry frame. Choppy black hair framed a thin face with severe features. Dark eyes, nearly black. Eyes that were normally behind glasses.

Arthur. “Oh… God.”

Green dropped to the balls of his feet, a lethal grin twisted his face as he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back.

“Hello again, Y/N.” TAGLIST: @deans-baby-momma @stixnstripesworld @jc-winchester @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @smoothdogsgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester @impalaspixie @chucksfavouriteprophet @imherefordeanandbones

#jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fic #supernatural #dean x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #nightingale #dean x you #jensen x you #jensen ackles

98 notes · View notes

thelibrarylesstrektraveled · 1 year