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hoboal87 · 4 years

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Elastic Heart Chapter Fifteen (Fin)

Title: Elastic Heart - Stay

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Cordelia Y/L/N, OFC’s

Pairing(s): Sam x Reader, Reader x OMC

Summary: In the aftermath of the final Trial, Dean reaches out to Y/N. Dean is willing to do whatever it takes to save Sam, but is he going to push Y/N too far?

Word Count: 13.4k(!)

Warnings: Angst, Bits of Fluff, Character Injury, Major Character Death, Time Jump, Implied Smut.

A/N: Series is mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. For the purposes of this fic Sam was born in '84 instead of '83.

A/N 2: Here it is, the final chapter! I have to thank my wonderful, awesome beta @deanwinchesterswitch! Kym, you are the best, thank you so much for making this fic the best possible version of itself. I will definitely miss our RIDICULOUSLY long notes and comments. I literally cannot say thank you enough for putting up with my crazy brain-dumps and last minute changes.

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Read Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen: Stay

Y/N POV

I take a deep breath as I pull out my phone and set the timer, setting the test next to two others. Stupid, I chastise myself, putting yourself in this position again. I lean against the counter before sliding down onto the floor, still being mindful of my arm. I stare blankly at the wall and let my mind wander. We were careless, so caught up in the moment, nothing else seemed to matter at the time. What were the odds of this happening again? The thought hadn’t even entered my brain until after Crowley’s attack. It’s been over a week, and I can still hear his words as clear as the day he said them. Sam didn’t come back to you, choosing girl after girl. Would you like to know the real cause of your parent’s accident? You are the ultimate bargaining chips. He must’ve known; it would explain his taunts about having Cordy call him ‘father.’ The buzzing of my phone pulls me out of my thoughts, I expect to see the timer, but it’s Dean’s name popping up on the caller ID. I reject the call without a second thought; he and Sam are the last people I want to talk to right now.

I haven’t even had the chance to put my phone back down before it starts vibrating again. A glance tells me it’s Dean calling again. “It’s 7 am, Dean,” I grumble, staring down at my phone. Whatever is causing him to reach out after nearly three months of complete silence must be important, at least to him. I hesitate briefly before rejecting the call.

I check the timer, two minutes. Crowley’s voice is in my head, and I’m back to that night again. Your precious Y/N is running out of time, Sam. As soon as we moved in, I was going to reach out to Sam, tell him I was ready for him to be a part of mine and Cordy’s lives. We still had our issues to work through, but Cordy had expressed more than once that she was ready to know him, and at the time, I started to forgive him. Sam repeatedly called after Crowley had left me, but Crowley’s words were all too fresh in my mind.

I peer into my room to see Cordy sleeping soundly in my bed. She’s afraid to leave me at night, something that I can’t blame her for. As I watch her sleep, my mind drifts back to the morning after Crowley’s attack.

I was trying to keep myself calm as I read through Sam’s multiple apology-ridden messages. I didn’t care that he was sorry; it couldn’t make up for the fact he and Dean had left us so utterly vulnerable to their enemies. I watched from the living room window as Cordy walked back over; I didn’t know how to explain my injury to her and how much of the truth I could tell her without further traumatizing her. I couldn’t lie my way out of it, but demons were not something I knew how to explain to a ten-year-old. Tears welled in Cordy’s eyes the minute she caught sight of me; she could see through my forced smile, she ran to me and wrapped her arms tight around my waist.

“Hey.” I tried to soothe her, using my good arm to rub a hand down her back. “It’s okay, I’m okay,” I half lied. “Couple of months, and I’ll be good as new.”

Cordy’s grip briefly loosened when I moved us onto the couch, I couldn’t pick her up like I wanted to, but I wasn’t going to stop her from crawling into my lap and burying her head into my shoulder. I let her weep against me; through her sobs, I heard a muffled ‘mom.’

It had been weeks since she’d called out for mom or dad when she was scared. By the time we had moved, her nightmares about the accident had become fewer and farther in between. Cordy had taken to climbing into my bed and letting me lull her back to sleep whenever one had woken her up.

“I know,” I whispered, trying to keep my tears at bay. “I miss them too.”

Cordy pulled away, her face blotchy, eyes blood-shot, and shook her head. “You’re my mom, Y/N,” she mumbled. “I do-don’t wanna lo-lose you too.” Cordy splutters through her tears. “You-you’re all I– I have le-left.”

I choked back a sob; she’s right; we only have each other. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t count on Sam to be there if something ever did happen to me. Cordy already lost one set of parents; I didn’t want to think about her losing Sam or me.

The vibration of my phone causes me to jump as it brings me back to the present. I sigh as I look down at the phone, rejecting the call. “Take the hint, Dean,” I mutter to myself. I check the timer, thirty seconds. I reach for the first test and vaguely remember an x-ray technician asking me if there was any possibility of me being pregnant. At the time, I didn’t even think about it; my night with Sam was the furthest thing on my mind.

I mindlessly chew away at my fingernails as the phone vibrates again, and I silently plead for it to stop. Relief floods through me when it does; maybe it’s finally gotten through to Dean that I don’t want to speak to him. The timer chirps and I grab the test off the counter and cover the results box with my hands. I close my eyes for a brief moment, praying that somehow I’m wrong. I take a shuddering breath as I slowly open my eyes, letting them land on the word ‘pregnant.’

Dean’s name briefly fills the screen again before I reject the call, setting my phone down on the tile. Surely he’ll get the message that I am intentionally not answering. I pull the second test off of the counter, pregnant. I don’t bother with the third. Even if somehow it was negative, the two positive pregnancy tests can’t both be wrong. I choke back a sob as I run through all of my options in my head. I can’t believe this is happening again. What am I going to tell Cordy? What about Sam? We weren’t in a good place when he left—that stupid fight.

The loud buzzing doesn’t just annoy me this time; it makes me want to pick up my phone and throw it against the wall. I grab my phone off the floor, and for a brief moment, I think of smashing into hundreds of pieces. I shake the thought out of my head before contemplating whether I should answer the call, my thumb hovering between the red and green circles.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you, Dean,” I say before ending the call, not giving him the chance to respond. I look back down at the test again, praying, willing it to change. I know it won’t, it was the first time I had sex in months, and of course, it’s with Sam fucking Winchester who had to go and get me pregnant. “Perfect vessel for Winchester children,” I mumble and let out a dry laugh. I wonder if the angels knew about this one, I chuckle to try to keep myself from crying, but the tears fall anyway, and my laughter quickly devolves into sobbing. Pregnant. Again. My phone chirps, 6 missed calls - Dean Winchester.

“Fuck,” I mutter as his name pops up again. I push the bathroom door closed, not wanting to wake Cordy. I clear my throat and wipe the tears away, taking a long and calming breath before accepting the call. “What do you want, Dean?”

“Y/N, don’t hang up, please, just–” Dean sighs, “I know you’re pissed, and you have every right, but–”

“Pissed is the understatement of the year.”

“Y/N–”

“The fucking King of Hell showed up on my doorstep. Came into my home and threatened the lives of both my daughter and me.” I hiss while trying to keep my voice down. “You know, I actually believed Sam when he said that Cas would show up if I prayed to him. Do you wanna know how many times I prayed for him to help? He did nothing, showing up hours later, giving some bullshit excuse about us not being in ‘real’ danger.”

“I–”

“What’s your excuse, Dean? Are you calling to apologize? You think that’ll make it all better? I don’t want your apology.” I can hear him huffing in anger on the other end. “Have a nice life, Dean.”

“Wait just a goddamn minute, Y/N,” he snaps before letting out a loud sigh and softening his voice. “I– I’m sorry. You have to believe that we didn’t know. If we even thought there was a chance of Crowley... we wouldn’t have let it happen. Sammy and I would’ve shown you how to protect yourself. Y/N, Sam has more guilt about Crowley than you’ll ever know. We didn’t think he knew about you or Cordy.”

“He said he’d been watching me for weeks,” I say, memories of that night playing in my head. “Weeks, Dean.”

“You would have been safe if you had stayed in Weldon,” Dean grumbles.

“The phone works both ways, Dean,” I murmur, trying to lessen my own guilt about leaving. “If you or Sam had bothered to keep in touch, you’d have known that we were planning to move.”

“Bullshit, Y/N,” Dean growls. “You stopped responding to Sam’s messages the day we left Weldon. You didn’t want to accept his apology, and at the time, as much as it broke him, he understood. You had no intention of telling us that you were moving. You can spout out crap about us not reaching out to you, Y/N, but you said it yourself, the phone works both ways.”

I let Dean’s words sink in. I’d threatened Sam with taking Cordy far away from him, but that wasn’t what the move was about; Cordy and I needed a change. I was able to leave so much of my baggage behind. I didn’t have to lie anymore; I didn’t have to carry the shame that my parents had made me feel for years.

“You asked for space, for time, and we were– are trying to respect that. You asked us to leave Weldon, and we did. I practically had to drag Sam outta there. He didn’t wanna leave you again, but I got his ass in the car, and we left. And all I heard from Weldon to Lebanon was how he wanted to tell you how sorry he was and that he was afraid that you would feel abandoned by him. It killed him to leave you and Cordy; you two are the only family we have left, and then you moved away without a single word. If you’d told us that you were planning on leaving Weldon, we would’ve found a way to protect you and Cordy. If you weren’t ready to be around Sam, we could’ve sent another hunter to protect you and Cordy.”

“We shouldn’t need protection, Dean. For ten years, we didn’t need protection. But the moment Sam steps back into my life, suddenly Cordy and I are targets for your enemies,” I let my eyes fall back on to the test in my hands. “I have to protect my family, Dean, and if that means Sam can’t be a part of our lives, then so be it. I refuse to live in constant fear that something like that could happen again. I’m not going to be some damsel in distress. I told Cas; Cordy and I are not bargaining chips.”

“The Crowley who attacked you doesn't exist anymore, Y/N. He's no longer the King of Hell; he's nothing more than a regular human. Crowley can't hurt you or Cordy ever again.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that’s true, Dean.”

“It is, Y/N.” Dean sighs, “Cas told us he warded your house. Wherever you are, you and Cordy are safe. I give you my word.”

“Your word isn’t the one I want, Dean. You’re not the reason Crowley came after us; Sam is. All of it was about him and me.”

“You don’t think that I care–?”

“I know you do, Dean,” I sigh, “but you’re on the phone with me instead of Sam. You’re the one playing peace-keeper. Sam should be the one telling me all of these things, not you. If Sam wants me to forgive him and think about letting him back into mine and Cordy’s life, then I need to hear it from him.”

Dean is silent on the other line, and through the static of the phone, I can hear a muffled voice coming through a speaker. A deep breath cuts through the silence before he speaks again.

“Sam’s– Sammy’s hurt, Y/N,” Dean’s voice hitches as if he’s trying to keep himself calm. “It’s– it’s bad.” Suddenly, all the background noises I’ve been hearing make sense. “He was doing okay for a couple of days, but then he took a turn for the worse. Sam’s…” Dean trails off briefly, and I fear that I already know what his next words will be. “You should be here, Y/N, you and Cordy. Sam needs his girls by his side.”

I smile briefly at Dean’s words before my heart falls into my stomach. There’s something he isn’t telling me, and every breath I try to take becomes more difficult. I grip the test tighter in my hands, and I try to let go of all of my anger that had been residing in me since the night we fought. I regret the last words spoken between us, fueled by rage and fear; we don’t need you; I should’ve taken the words back.

“Where are you?”

“Linwood Memorial Hospital in Randolf, New York.” Dean doesn’t hesitate.

“New York? You’re not in Kansas? I thought–”

“Randolf, New York,” Dean reiterates, “Linwood Memorial Hospital.”

I tell Dean that I will have to get a flight to him, and he insists on giving me a scammed credit card to pay for it. A part of me almost doesn’t want to take it, but after seeing how much such a last-minute flight would cost, I accept it.

I call the school as soon as I hang up with Dean, explaining that Cordy will be out for at least the rest of the week. The receptionist seems to understand, reminding me to reach out to her teachers for lessons and homework.

I step into my closet, grabbing two bags, and begin packing my belongings as quietly as I can. I set my bag down at the top of the stairs before repeating the process in Cordy’s room. I place Cordy’s bag next to my own before glancing back into my room. Cordy’s still sleeping, arms tightly gripping her teddy bear. I don't want to wake her, not yet, so I gently close my bedroom door before making my way downstairs. When I open the front door, there’s nothing but the sounds of nature greeting me. A few of the houses are bathed in an orange light where the sun is just barely peeking over rooftops. I step out onto the dewy grass, setting the bags down. I relish in the quiet of the neighborhood for a moment and let myself get lost in thought.

“Y/N,” a low voice says as their hand lands on my arm.

“Jesus!” I yelp, balling my fist and ready to throw a punch. I turn quickly to see my neighbor, Jason, standing behind me.

“Whoa! Sorry,” Jason puts his hands up in surrender, and I unclench my fist. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Someone oughta put a bell on you,” I laugh slightly. “It’s not polite to sneak up on people. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”

“I called your name a couple of times,” he shrugs. “I guess you were off somewhere else?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I nod.

“Here, let me help you,” Jason picks up the two bags. “Looks like you’re makin’ a break for it.”

“I guess you could say that,” I shrug and walk towards my car, Jason matching my steps. “Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me we’ve scared you outta the neighborhood already?” Jason chuckles. “Is it Old Lady Nelson?” I try to speak, but he playfully cuts me off. “She’s a witch, you know.”

“Is she?” I raise an eyebrow and pop the trunk. “What kind of witch? Do I need to keep a bucket of water on hand?”

“No, more like the fortune-telling kind,” he grins, slowing his steps, before stopping at the trunk. “She paid me a visit the other day and said I would meet someone.”

“Oh?” I ask as he sets the two bags down, and he nods his head. Suddenly, I’m painfully aware that he’s flirting and that I may be unintentionally encouraging it.

“She said that she would have a-” Jason’s blue eyes dart around me, “a robin’s nest in her yard. Oh!” He dramatically yells as I close the trunk. ”Will you look at that?” He points to the robin’s nest and winks. I shake my head; we both know it was there long before I moved in. “So whaddya say, Y/N? Can I take you out for dinner sometime?”

“Cut right to the chase, don’t you?” I tease him. “Listen, Jason, I think you’re really nice, but–”

“But,” Jason sighs and frowns slightly, “you’re not interested?”

“I’m– I–” I don’t know how to describe my relationship with Sam. He isn’t my boyfriend, but he’s more than just the father of my daughter. “I’m with someone, Cordy’s dad. We’re going to be visiting him for the next couple of days.”

“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Jason runs his hands through his short hair and gives me an embarrassed smile. “Cynthia told me you were single and has been pushing for me to ask you out. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have–”

“We have a complicated relationship,” I laugh weakly. “‘Sides you deserve someone who doesn’t have a mountain of baggage.”

“Well, if Mr. Complicated doesn’t wise up, he better be prepared to put up a fight for you,” he teases, and a slight tinge of pink fills his cheeks. “I don’t give up easily, and baggage doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re sweet,” I reach for his arm and gently squeeze it, “but you hardly know me. For all you know, I could be some stage five clinger psychopath or– or an assassin.”

“Then we’ll be two peas in a pod,” Jason smirks, stepping closer to me and brushing a stray hair away from my face. For a moment, I lean into his touch, but I stop myself.

“I have to go,” I exclaim and run back into the house, slamming the door behind me.

I scold myself as I pace my living room. Sam’s in some hospital, and you’re outside flirting with the neighbor? The clock on the wall catches my attention, 8 am, we have to leave soon.

“Y/N?” Cordy’s scratchy voice pulls me out of my thoughts; she looks to be on the verge of tears. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

“Oh, kid, I’m sorry.” I close the gap between us and let her settle against me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve had a busy morning. You and me, we’re going on a trip.”

“Really?” Cordy’s face lights up, “what kind of a trip?”

“We’re gonna visit Sam,” Cordy’s smile grows; this is something she’s wanted for the last month. “He’s sick,” I explain, and Cordy’s smile fades.

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“I hope so, kid. But I don’t know, that’s why we’re gonna go see him.”

*********************************************

When we arrive in Randolf, it’s almost 9 pm. Cordy and I are exhausted, unused to this kind of travel. It makes me wonder how Sam and Dean live in the Impala for hours and sometimes days on end. The hospital’s visiting hours will be over by now, so I send a message to Dean, letting him know that we are staying at a hotel for the night. He tells me that he has already added us to Sam's visitor list and that he would be under the name Dougherty. I crawl into the large bed, Cordy’s already sleeping soundly, and let my mind wander.

Sam is going to make it out of this, isn’t he? Will he be happy when I tell him about the baby? Will he come back to Lawrence with us when all of this is over? Will he walk away from Dean for the three of us? Will Dean let him?

It’s still early when a turning in my stomach makes me bolt towards the bathroom, emptying my stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Y/N?” Cordy calls from outside the bathroom, and before I can muster out an answer, I feel the bile rising in my throat again. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Go back to bed, Cordy,” I say more harshly than I mean to. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

When I open the bathroom door, Cordy is still standing there, tears filling her eyes. “Are you mad at me?” She asks as a tear slips out.

“Oh, kid, I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I crouch down and meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you sick too?” Cordy sniffles.

“No,” I shake my head. “I’m– I’m gonna have a baby.”

Guilt overwhelms me as I pull into the hospital’s parking lot; I need Sam to know that I still love him, that all the words exchanged weren’t how I truly felt. Ten years of thinking he had run away, and the anger that exploded from us both drove my words. I know, deep down, that Sam wouldn’t have left if he’d known the truth. We were scared kids and didn’t know how not to believe the words of our parents. I know that if either one of us could go back, we would.

Even though Cas changed her memories, Cordy’s body tenses as we step into the hospital. She grips my hand tightly as we walk to the main desk and check-in. I ask for Sam Dougherty’s room, pulling out my ID and handing it to the receptionist. She smiles warmly as she hands over the visitor passes she printed for us.

“I need to ask you something, Cordy,” I say as I kneel to place the badge on the front of her shirt. “When we get up to Sam’s room, do you want to see him?” She fidgets at the mention of being in a hospital room. “You don’t have to; it’s your decision.”

“I don’t know,” she answers sheepishly. “If you want me to-”

“No, kid. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. It’s okay if you don’t,” I squeeze her arm. “I know we’ve talked about you getting to know Sam as your dad, but you’ve only met him a couple of times. If you’re not ready to see him, I’m not going to force you.”

“Is he gonna look scary?” She murmurs, looking down at the floor.

I don’t know how to answer the question. Dean said he was hurt badly. If Sam wasn’t going to get better from this, I don’t know if I want her one of her only memories of him to be attached to machines, bruised, and broken. If she’s only going to have one real memory of Sam, let it be of the day that he visited her after the accident.

“How ‘bout,” I offer, “I go and see him first, by myself. And if I think he looks too scary, I’ll tell you.”

“Sammy isn’t gonna be mad?” Cordy looks up to meet my eyes.

“No, of course not,” I say firmly, “he wouldn’t want you to be afraid.” She nods and grabs my hand as we head up to Sam’s room.

I leave Cordy just outside Sam’s room. She looks around for a moment before I hand over my tablet and headphones, letting her drown out the noises of the hospital. I hesitate to leave her, and when a nurse volunteers to sit with her, I graciously accept. I place a kiss on her forehead, whispering one four three in her ear before heading into Sam’s room. I peer into the open door of the room. Sam’s long frame fills the bed. He looks emaciated; his face bruised, eyes and cheeks sunken in, and skin stretched taut over his bones.

Dean’s at his side, hunched over; I can see his mouth moving but can’t make out anything he’s saying. I wipe the forming tears away, knocking softly on the door. Dean jumps slightly at the sound, and a look of relief washes over his face when he sees me.

“Y/N,” Dean frowns when he catches sight of me, his eyes immediately fall on my broken arm. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around me. “Cas said he tried to heal–”

“What happened, Dean?” I pull away from him, focusing my attention on Sam. “How did he get this bad?”

“Did Cas tell you what we were trying to do?”

“Said something about closing Hell Gates,” I can’t take my eyes off of Sam’s body. Dean leads me to a chair, letting me sit down before moving to the opposite side of the bed. He grabs a second chair, pulling it around so that he’s sitting next to me.

“Yeah. What we didn’t know when Sam started them is that to complete the Trials, Sam would have to die.” Dean looks back over to Sam. “I couldn’t let that happen. I tried to convince him to stop, Y/N, but he wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t stop,” Dean seems to be reassuring himself just as much as me. “The only reason he’s probably still alive right now is that he collapsed before he could finish it.”

“Where’s Cas? Can’t he do something?” I ask, hopefully. “He can heal Sam, can’t he?”

“Sam’s been too damaged for months for Cas to do anything,” Dean sighs. “Tried to help a while back, and even then, he couldn’t do anything. I haven’t let that stop me, Y/N,” Dean offers a sad smile. “I’ve tried praying, but Cas won’t answer.”

“What about another angel?” I’m desperate, taking Sam’s lifeless hand in my own. “Cas can’t be the only one who can help.”

“The thing about angels, Y/N, is most of ‘em are dicks.” Dean lets out a pained laugh. “And they’re not exactly fans of Sam and me. Most won’t help even if they can.”

“You have to do something, Dean,” I plead. “You can’t let him die. You said you’d watch out for him. He can’t die, not now; I need him. Me and Cordy, we need him.”

“Y/N.”

“You’re friends with a freaking angel, you know the King of Hell, but you can’t do anything to save Sam? You’re not trying hard enough, Dean.” I direct all of the guilt I’m feeling at Dean; a part of me knows it’s not fair to him, but I can’t help it. “All this will be for nothing if he’s gone. You tried to stop him and now look at him,” I direct my attention back to Sam.

Dean silently takes my verbal lashing, his emerald eyes filling with tears.

“Screw you,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Sam is my brother, and we’ve been through more shit together than you will ever know.” I can hear the pain in Dean’s voice, but he remains calm and quiet, and I notice him discreetly wiping a tear away. “I’ve watched him die too many times already, and I wasn’t gonna let it happen again. I couldn’t let another Winchester grow up without a parent; me and Sam, we practically raised ourselves. Cordy deserves to have both of her parents raising her.”

“Dean–”

“You don’t know how messed up Sam got, Y/N!” Dean’s face reddens, and his voice starts to rise. “He was about to die, and he didn’t even care! If you’d heard what he said in that church– He thinks that you and Cordy are better off without him; that you can just replace him. He’s not replaceable, Y/N. I was trying to talk him off a ledge, and you wanna know the worst part? I’m the reason he got so messed up. I was the one that was supposed to be doing the Trials, not Sam. I could’ve finished them, and he could’ve finally gotten out. I had to save my brother; I will always do whatever it takes to save him. You can put the blame on me for how he is now, but don’t act like you wouldn’t have at least tried to stop him if you were there.”

“Dean,” I can barely speak, “I’m sorry. I just–”

“D’you know what he’s wanted since we were kids?” Dean doesn’t wait for me to respond and focuses back on Sam. “A normal life. He never wanted to be a hunter, follow in dad’s footsteps; he wanted to be his own person. I’m the one who dragged his ass away from Stanford, I’m the reason he wasn’t there when Jessica was murdered, and I know that deep down, a part of him will never be able to forgive me for it. Sam had his chance at normal, but he gave it up for me. If I hadn’t pulled him into that hunt, he probably wouldn’t have come back. He’d be living some apple-pie life with you or Jessica; married, a couple of kids running around, a dog, house with a white picket fence.”

“I don’t have a white picket fence,” I say softly, garnering a small chuckle from Dean. “But, I want all that with him. I want him around, to be a father to Cordy and- and...” I stop myself from saying any more, reluctant to tell him about this baby as well. If I tell him and Sam doesn’t make it through this, I can’t have Dean as a looming presence in Cordy and this baby’s life, reminding all of us of something we can never have. “Before Crowley, I was ready to find a way to make it work with Sam. After Crowley left, I was so scared, Dean, so angry. I still am, but I want us to move past all that. Cordy’s ready to know her dad.”

“Cordy knows?” Dean asks, his eyes going wide at my confession, “I thought you were– You said you didn’t want to tell her, that you wanted to wait until she was ready?” Dean’s brow furrows, and I can hear the anger in his voice. I had insisted to both brothers that Cordy wasn’t ready to know the truth, but now, only a few months later, she was suddenly ready?

“I was,” I focus my attention back on Sam, and I can feel the daggers Dean is staring into me. “That morning, after you left? That box of photos was still out,” I explain. I could tell he thought that I’d lied to him that night. “I’d meant to put them away, but after everything that happened, I was exhausted and pretty much passed out on the couch. When I woke up, Cordy was going through it and started asking questions. She was putting everything together before I could even come up with an excuse. The kid’s too smart for her own good,” I chuckle, and Dean relaxes slightly. “It was rough; Cordy was angry and confused, but she’s adjusting, we both are. She’s been getting used to the idea, and for the last month, she’s been asking me about getting to know Sam.”

“I’ll find a way to get him back to the both of you,” Dean promises, reaching out to give my hand a firm squeeze. “I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Dean and I sit in silence for a few minutes before a doctor joins us. He explains the extent of Sam’s injuries: massive internal burns, oxygen deprivation, the coma is Sam’s last resort of self-preservation.

“He’s dying,” Dean mutters.

“If he continues on this trajectory, I’m afraid so. The machines may be able to keep him alive, but with injuries such as these–”

“There isn’t anything you can do?” I question the doctor.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s in God’s hands now,” the doctor smiles at me sympathetically.

“God’s hands?” Dean huffs, and his face hardens. “You’re a medical professional, and you’re telling us that my brother’s life is in God’s hands? What, is that supposed to be some sort of– of comfort?”

“Dean,” I sigh, “he’s just saying–”

“No, Y/N,” Dean snaps at me. He immediately gives me an apologetic smile before standing up to meet the doctor at the edge of the bed. “God has nothing to do with this equation. If I wanted to leave it up to God, I wouldn’t have brought him here in the first place. Do your job, save my brother.”

The doctor doesn’t flinch at Dean’s verbal assault, taking it as gracefully as one can. He apologizes again before leaving us alone. Dean refuses to sit back down, pacing around the room and muttering under his breath. I focus back on Sam, squeezing his hand tighter, praying for some kind of response to show that he’s still there, fighting his way back to Cordy and me.

“You have to fight, Sam,” I lean in and whisper. “I didn’t mean what I said that night; I was angry and scared. We do need you. You can’t leave Cordy and me, not like this.”

The room is silent, save for the heart monitor beeping steadily and my sniffling. Dean has stopped pacing, and when I look up, he’s staring at Sam and me, waiting as much as I am for some kind of sign that Sam isn’t giving up. I wipe my tears away and take a long, calming breath before speaking.

“Cordy’s outside,” I say as I leave my seat. “I’m– I’m gonna talk to her, see if she wants to see Sam.”

Dean nods slightly, and as I walk by him, he pulls me into a hug, “I’ll find a way to fix this, Y/N,” he reassures me. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get him better again.”

When I get back to Cordy, she is intensely focused on the tablet in her hands. I take another long inhale, hoping that I can hide the evidence of my tears. I playfully tug at her headphones, pulling her attention away from the tablet, and I see she’s watching a video from a channel called Ghostfacers.

“Learn anything interesting?” I ask as I take the seat next to her.

“Nah,” she shrugs and turns off the tablet, “those guys are weirdos.”

I laugh as she puts the tablet back into my bag. I try to figure out the best way to breach the subject of Sam to Cordy.

“How’s Sammy?” Cordy asks as if she can read my mind, and I give her a tight-lipped smile.

“He’s– He’s not doing okay.” I try to think of a way to explain his condition to her, something that will make sense. “You know how sometimes when you’re sick, you just want to sleep?” Cordy nods. “Well, right now, Sam is really sick, so he’s gonna stay asleep until he’s better.”

“How long is Sammy gonna sleep?” Cordy questions innocently. “Are we gonna stay until he wakes up?”

“I– I don’t know, kid,” I tell her honestly. “It could be days, weeks, or,” I struggle with the next words, “Sam may never wake up.”

Cordy seems to understand what I’m saying, and I’m thankful that I don’t have to say the words, ‘Sam’s dying.’ I don’t push her to respond, letting her think over whatever she may want to say next. I keep my own conflicted feelings at bay; half wants to take her back to Lawrence and never talk about this ever again; the other half wants her to go in and see him so that at least she can get a proper goodbye.

“Can I see him?” Cordy asks after a few moments of silence. “Would that be okay?”

“If that’s what you want, kid,” I grab her hand in mine and gently squeeze it before walking us back towards Sam’s room.

Dean’s still pacing the floor when I walk in; Cordy stays behind me, gripping my hand tightly. I try to move forward, but she pulls back against me, stopping at the doorway. Dean peers around me before closing the gap between us and crouches down to meet Cordy at her eye-level.

“Hey, Princess, do you remember me?” Dean asks sweetly.

Cordy smiles and nods, “Y/N says you’re my uncle.”

“That’s right,” Dean’s eyes shine with pride. “I’m Sammy’s big brother. Do you know what big brothers do?” he asks, and Cordy shakes her head. “We protect our little brothers. We don’t let anything happen to them.”

“Can I talk to him?” She looks between Dean and me. “Is that okay?”

“Sure, kid,” I smile weakly.

Cordy lets go of my hand and makes her way to the empty chair by Sam’s side. Dean gives my arm a reassuring squeeze as I walk by, and I sit in the chair that he previously occupied. Cordy doesn’t say anything at first, seemingly studying Sam silently, she wasn’t one to normally shy away from a conversation, but this is a new experience for her.

“Why don’t you tell Sam about school?” I suggest, knowing that once she starts talking, it’ll be hard to get her to stop.

Cordy nods before explaining in unbelievable detail about her teachers and classmates. She tells him all about our new house and how she decorated her room because she’s not a little kid anymore, which causes a small laugh from both Dean and me. She speaks non-stop for what seems like hours, telling Sam everything he would ever need to know to become integrated into our lives.

“Definitely Sam’s kid,” Dean jokes from the edge of the bed, listening just as intently as Sam would. Cordy doesn’t pay any attention and goes right back to chattering.

After a few minutes, Dean gets up and gestures for me to join him outside the room. He tells me he has a plan, that it could be our only hope to save Sam, and gently orders me not to let anyone else into the room until he gets back. I want to pry for more details, but it must be a long-shot or something dangerous if Dean’s not giving them.

When I walk back into the room, Cordy is telling Sam how she hopes that he will be awake for her birthday, and my heart breaks. Unless Dean can pull off some miracle, Sam won’t recover from this; his body is far too damaged.

When Dean returns a half-hour later, a bruise is blossoming on his cheek as if he’s been in a fight, and a large man follows closely behind him. Something about him is unsettling, and Cordy stops speaking when she sees him, leaving her seat to move into my lap.

“Y/N, I think you should take Cordy outside,” Dean suggests, and the man eyes the two of us.

For a moment, I want to protest, but Dean hardens his face, and it seems that he’s as wary of this stranger as I am.

“Okay,” I nod, getting out of the chair and grabbing Cordy by the hand. She tugs against me and takes a few steps towards the head of the bed. She leans over so much that only her toes are touching the ground and does her best to hug Sam and places a kiss on his cheek. If I had any less control over myself, I’d be a sobbing mess at the sight—damn hormones.

I give Cordy a small smile when she turns around and returns her hand to mine. I settle her back into the same seat before returning to Sam’s room.

“Dean? What’s going on? Who is this?”

“My name is Ezekiel,” the man faces me, “I am not here to harm you or your daughter, Y/N.”

“How do you–”

“Angel,” Dean answers before I can finish asking my question. “He’s here to help, right?” Ezekiel nods. “Even cut-off from Heaven, you can still heal him, can’t you?”

“Your brother is very weak.”

“No, no,” Dean growls, “I saved your life, and you said you could help. That was our deal: I fight, you save.”

“Please,” I say, stepping closer to Ezekiel. “You can’t do anything?”

“There are no good ways, I’m afraid.”

“Then what are some of the bad ones?” Dean says. “He’s dying, let’s hear ‘em, good or bad.”

Ezekiel explains that he can help from the inside. I watch as Dean contemplates what Ezekiel says, looking to me for some kind of relief. I shake my head, and I tell him I don’t understand.

“Possession,” Dean explains.

“It is your decision, Y/N, and yours, Dean,” Ezekiel sits down.

“No, it’s not,” Dean murmurs. “It’s Sam’s. He’d never say yes to being some angel’s meatsuit.”

“I understand, but without my help, your brother will die.”

Dean turns his attention to Sam and sighs, “do it.”

“Dean,” I pull him towards me. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“He can fix Sam, Y/N!” Dean argues. “This is the only solution I can think of that doesn’t involve something worse.”

“Worse than you letting some angel possess him?” I question in disbelief. “I know you want to help him, Dean. But this isn’t the way, tell me you don’t know that.”

“What, you want to leave it in God's hands? Just wait and see if maybe he comes out of this? Those Trials– The person completing them is meant to die; it’s supposed to be the ultimate sacrifice. I say Sam’s sacrificed enough in his life. He deserves to live, Y/N.”

“I don’t want him gone either, Dean, but this should be his choice, not yours or mine. You know him better than anyone. Do you think this is how he’d want you to save him? He wouldn’t want this, Dean. I don’t want this.”

“You told me to fix him, that you want to keep him in your life, Y/N. That’s what I’m doing.”

“I know, but–” I turn my gaze to Ezekiel and then back to Sam. “This isn’t right, Dean. You know it isn’t.”

Dean shrugs me off of him and steps closer to Ezekiel, and they begin talking in hushed tones. My eyes land on Sam, and for a moment, I consider what Dean is saying, thinking that it may be the only way to keep Sam in my and Cordy’s lives. I watch Ezekiel; his voice is too low for me to make out any exact words. There’s something he’s not telling us. Ezekiel repeats his offer.

“He’d never say yes to you,” Dean murmurs.

“But he would say yes to you or Y/N,” Ezekiel offers, his eyes land between us. "If you want me to help Sam, we must act quickly." Despite his words, there is no urgency in Ezekiel's voice, no emotion. "Your brother doesn't have much time."

"No," I murmur, shaking my head when Dean faces me. "You're not going to use me to manipulate Sam. There's gotta be another way, Dean."

“There's not, Y/N," Dean sighs. "You heard the doctor; there's nothing more they can do."

"That's not what he said, Dean," I argue, even though from what we were told, there was little chance of Sam recovering. I have to hope that somehow he can get better. "People wake up from comas every day. There are new therapies–"

"They will not work, Y/N," Ezekiel states matter-of-factly. "The damage done to Sam's body cannot be healed by mere mortals. Sam will die unless you allow me to help."

"If I’m going to consider this, you show me, prove to me how bad he is," Dean's desperate; we both are. Ezekiel moves, placing one hand on Sam and the other on Dean, and both men go still for a few moments. I stand there, unable to do anything but watch as the heart monitor beeps become further apart.

"What're you doing, Sam?" Dean says barely above a whisper. He turns to face me again, and I can see the fear and panic playing on his face. He turns back to Ezekiel. "Go in as me to convince him."

"Dean!"

“Tell him I gotta plan, that he has to trust me," Dean ignores me and instructs Ezekiel. "And– and that he has a kid that needs him."

I can’t take it anymore, and I don’t want to be anymore complicit in Dean letting Ezekiel possess Sam than I already am. Dean and Ezekiel are too caught up in their conversation to notice me walking towards Sam. If Dean wants Ezekiel to save Sam, he's not going to use us to do it.

I lean forward and whisper in his ear, “I’m sorry.” I squeeze Sam’s lifeless hand and place a kiss on his forehead. "One four three."

I don’t say anything else to Dean or Ezekiel and reluctantly leave the room. I try to keep myself calm when I get back to Cordy, giving her a pained smile that I hope she doesn't see through. She doesn’t question me when I take her hand in mine and begin walking us towards the elevators. I know I’ll have to explain why we’re leaving at some point, but I can’t do it now, not when I can hardly wrap my brain around it.

We’re halfway down the hall when I hear Dean calling after me, I do my best to ignore it, but it becomes more difficult when Cordy points it out as if somehow I don’t hear him. Dean's voice continues to follow, and I can see Cordy giving me a questioning look out of the corner of my eye.

“Y/N!” Dean’s hand lands on my shoulder, only moments after we reach the elevator bay. “Don’t leave, please, I’m begging you,” he pleads. “It’s the only way.”

"You're not doing this in front of Cordy, Dean," I scold him before turning my attention to Cordy. "Go take a seat over there, please," I gesture to a row of empty chairs.

"But, Y/N–" Cordy tries to protest.

"Now, Cordy." She pouts, and once she is far enough away that she can no longer hear us, Dean tries to start in again, but I beat him to it. "How fucking dare you. You think I'm gonna let you use Cordy and me to trick Sam into letting some,” I lower my voice as a staff worker walks by, “angel possess him?”

"I’m doing this for you, for Cordy.”

“You’re doing this for you, Dean,” I argue back. “You don’t even know this guy. He could be lying to you. How do you know he’s not going to just–” I can feel myself getting worked up and take a deep breath. “I might not know anything about angels, but you can’t tell me that Ezekiel doesn’t seem to be a little off?”

“So, what, you just– just want to let him die? You're ready to just give up on him?” Dean’s face grows red, and his forehead crinkles.

“Stop it, Dean,” I snap. “I want him back too, but this isn’t the way.” I take a deep breath. “I'm not okay with this, Dean, and you know Sam wouldn't be either."

“What about Cordy, everything you've told me? You want her to grow up without her dad?”

“Screw you, Dean.” I bite back, the palm of my hand connecting with his cheek. “Cordy is my kid and the most important person in my world. I won’t let you guilt me into thinking you're doing this for her.”

“We’re outta options, Y/N. What else do you want me to do? I can’t– I won’t walk away when there’s a chance to save him. Sam’ll–”

“Sam will never forgive you, Dean.”

“He might be pissed at me for the rest of his life, but at least he’ll be alive, Y/N.”

"I can't stop you, Dean. But if you go through with it: making Sam's choice for him, then you're making mine too." I call out for Cordy, and she joins me by my side again. "Say goodbye to Dean," I instruct her gently, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Don't do this," Dean whispers, and I shake my head, twisting slightly to press the button on the wall. I can't stay, not when I have two other people to think about. "Please."

Cordy hesitantly places her arms around Dean and mumbles goodbye to him. When she steps back, I lay my hands on her shoulder and pull her closer to me so that she can't see the tears slipping from my eyes.

"Goodbye, Dean," I say as I hear the doors ding open and turn around to step into the elevator. Dean's emerald eyes are filled with tears as I face him a final time. "I hope you make the right choice," I whisper as the doors close.

As we exit the hospital, Cordy questions why we’re leaving, and I struggle to find an answer. We'll be back on a plane to Lawrence tomorrow, and I do everything I can to evade her questions about Sam, eventually settling on Sam may never wake up.

We are walking into the house when a backfiring car sends me over the edge. Cordy helplessly watches as I’m thrust back into my memories of the night of the werewolf attack; its amber eyes staring me down, its claws swiping at me, how I had to lie to everyone about what happened, how I still have to. Sam never leaving my side until we were pulled apart by my parents.

My whole world is crashing down around me, and all I want is Sam. I want to feel his arms around me again, telling me that everything will be okay. I want to sink my body into his, taking solace in his comforting embrace, and let myself get lost in him. I want him to be with us forever, having the family he’s wanted since I told him I was pregnant all those years ago.

My Sam may be gone forever, and the only thing I can do is pray that Dean made the right decision.

Three Years Later

“Cordelia Mary!” I yell from the bottom of the stairs. “Your butt better be down here in five minutes.”

“Mo-om!” I hear her door opening, and she steps onto the landing. “That’s not enough time–”

“Too bad, kid,” I huff. “I mean it, Cordy, five minutes, or I'm taking your phone away.” A grumbled okay comes from the top of the stairs. I head back towards the kitchen, blue and green orbs watching me as I walk back in. “What’re we gonna do about her, Sammy?” I laugh as I bend down and scoop him up in my arms. “No ideas, huh?”

"You yell at sissy." He giggles when I nuzzle into his neck and blow raspberries on his chubby cheeks. “Sissy in t’ouble?"

"No, baby. Sissy isn't in trouble," I sit him down in his chair and run my fingers through his chestnut locks. Sammy’s eyes widen, and a smile forms when he looks behind me.

Large hands wrapping around my waist cause me to jump back and let out a yelp. I turn around to a cheeky grin; he’s obviously very proud of himself.

“You jerk,” I swat at his chest, trying to retain my serious demeanor, which becomes harder to do as Sammy’s laughter fills the kitchen. Warm, comforting arms pull me closer to him. I let my hands settle on the back of his neck, curling my fingers in his hair. He leans down to place a tender kiss on my lips, letting his two-day scruff scratch against my lips. “I don’t know why I put up with you sometimes.” I roll my eyes playfully at him.

“You say that, but,” his lips move to the shell of my ear, “we both know exactly why you put up with me.” He pulls back and gives me a wink. His hand leaves my waist and delicately takes my left hand into his kissing the diamond ring still settling on my finger. “‘Sides, you love me, and you know it.”

“Love?” I scoff, trying to hide my smile. “I don’t know if I would say that. Not if you insist on sneaking up on me all the time.”

“Sammy saw me, didn’t you?” I turn in his embrace, letting my back settle against his chest, and his arms stay tight around me. Sammy giggles and shakes his head. “Traitor,” he whispers.

I curl my hands around his arms; it has taken us so long to get here, something I never thought would happen. The watch on his wrist alerts me to the time, and I gently pull away from him, making my way back towards the stairs.

“Cordy! I’m serious!” I yell up the stairs, “You’d better be down here in two minutes!”

"Do you want me to talk to her?” he asks as I walk back into the kitchen. He’s sitting down next to Sammy, cutting fruit into halves as Sammy tries shoveling the food into his mouth. “See what the problem is?"

"She's a teenager; that's the problem," I laugh, taking a seat at the table. “Didn’t think you’d be here three years ago, did you?”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrow furrows in confusion.

“Raising a teenager and a toddler with someone who works ridiculous hours and has serious abandonment issues,” I keep my tone light, but he knows the insecurity behind my words.

“Y/N,” Jason reaches for my hand and gently squeezes it. “I told you a long time ago, I don’t give up that easily. If I didn’t think I could handle it, I wouldn’t have pursued you for as long as I did,” he says with a chuckle. “I love you, Y/N; Cordy and Sammy, they may not be mine, but I’ll never treat them any different than if they were. I’m never gonna walk away from you or them.”

Cordy is downstairs just as I’m about to call out for her again. She chatters away as she eats her breakfast, only to be interrupted by Sammy’s need to chime in. She placates her little brother, and we all listen intently as he struggles to connect one thought to another.

“C’mon, kid,” I stand up from the table, “it’s our turn to carpool; go get Ava.”

She quickly gets out of her chair and places a kiss on Sammy’s cheek. She lets Jason pull her in for a quick hug before grabbing her backpack and making for the front door. I lean down and place a kiss on his lips before doing the same with Sammy. By the time I’m outside, Cordy and Ava are both in the back seat, deep in conversation.

I drop the girls off at school and make my way back home, ready to sleep for hours and thankful that I have the next two days off. Jason plans his schedule around mine so that one of us can be home with Cordy and Sammy more often than not. On a day like today, when I’m coming off a twelve-hour shift from the hospital, he’ll leave late in the morning and come back in the early afternoon. I find it comforting to know that I will never have to worry about him not returning from a job.

Jason and Sammy are sitting on the living room floor when I walk through the door, watching some kids show that I can’t quite place. I laugh to myself when I notice that Jason seems to be just as invested as Sammy. I take the opportunity to sneak up on him, and Jason nearly jumps to his feet when my hands land on his back. Sammy lets out a loud, high-pitched squeal and claps his chubby hands together, laughing as Jason chuckles.

“Consider that your payback,” I giggle as he turns around, wrapping my arms around his neck, and he lands a playful swat on my ass.

"You'll pay for that later," he teases before leaning forward to press a kiss on my lips.

I sit with them for as long as I can before exhaustion starts to overpower my will to stay awake—damn midnight shifts.

I make my way upstairs and crawl into the comfort of my bed, allowing sleep to finally take me. The bed dips and the warmth of a body where there was once cold causes me to stir, and I roll over, opening my eyes to meet Jason’s blue ones. I smile sleepily as he presses his lips on my forehead and tells me that he’s put Sammy down for his nap. I pull his face downward, allowing him to kiss me properly. Jason holds me close, pulling me flush against him, letting me take comfort in his warm embrace until I’m asleep again.

“Mama.” Sammy’s small voice wakes me, and I open my eyes to see him reach for the edge of the bed, his curls matted on one side. “Wake up, mama!”

“Hey, baby,” I coo, trying to shake the hoarseness away. I swing my legs over the bed and reach for Sammy, pulling him into my lap. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Good nap, mama,” he repeats.

“Are you ready for a snack?” I ask as I stand up, letting Sammy settle on my hip.

“Hung’y, mama,” Sammy happily nods as we make our way downstairs.

I set Sammy down in his pack n’ play and pour some Puffs into a bowl, letting his loud crunching and noisy toys fill the kitchen as I fix us something to eat. As I’m setting the plates down, I hear a knock on the front door.

“Ugh, every time,” I complain, taking a small piece of apple and placing it in my mouth. “I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?”

“‘Kay, mama,” Sammy says as he picks up another puff.

Another rapping comes from the door, this one louder than the last, probably some salesperson, I murmur. When I open the door, all I see at first is a broad, tall body covered by a blue plaid shirt, and as I let my eyes travel up, I meet a pair of eyes that I never thought I’d see again.

“Sam.”

“Y/N/N.”

My heart races at the sound of my name on his lips, but I can’t move; the last time I saw Sam, Dean was about to let an angel possess him. What if this wasn’t Sam? What if this was Ezekiel? I eye him suspiciously. Should I call Cas?

“It’s me, Y/N/N,” Sam says as if he can read my mind.

“No.” I shake my head and attempt to close the door. “I don’t know who or what you are, but you stay away from my family and me.”

“Y/N/N, baby, it’s me." Sam gently steps forward and stops the door. "We met Thanksgiving 2002,” he offers. “I saved you from a werewolf, you clung to me the whole night, and I started falling for you right then. I had to convince my dad to let me stay, I told him it was for school, but it’s ‘cause I wanted to stay close to you. The first time you said ‘I love you’ was Valentine’s Day; we went to The Tavern, and you were concerned about the prices. The day you told me you were pregnant– it was one of the happiest days of my life, even though I was scared shitless. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you again at Joe’s. I wanted to tell you right then and there how much I missed you; how sorry I was–”

“You’re rambling,” I murmur, reaching out and pressing my palm to his cheek, and he leans into my touch. Sam wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tightly as if he’s afraid to let me go.

“What– what’re you doing here? How–?” I mumble into his chest.

“Cas,” Sam takes a deep breath. I let him hold on to me while I try to keep myself calm. “Told us you were in Lawrence; I can’t tell you how pissed Dean–” I pull away slightly, and Sam shakes his head. “Quick search gave me your address,” he gives me an embarrassed smile that quickly fades. Sam’s embrace around me loosens, and I step back to scan his face. The dark circles under his eyes hint at the fact that it’s probably been days since he last slept. “I guess I should have called first?” Sam lets out a laugh that seems to be hiding pained thoughts.

“It’s not that,” I shake my head. “I– I can’t believe you’re here. I didn’t think–”

Sam takes my hand in his rubbing it gently, and gives me a small smile. His brow furrows, and his smile quickly fades as his eyes travel down toward our connected hands.

“You’re married,” Sam states, brushing his thumb over the ring on my finger. “Of course you are." He lets go and shakes his head, seemingly in disbelief. “I’ll just– I’ll go. I don’t–”

“Wait, Sam,” I stop him. “Come in, please,” I insist. Sam nods his head warily, and I step aside so that he can walk in. I can hardly form a coherent thought as he walks into my house. He doesn’t make it far in before stopping, reaching out to touch a photo hanging on the wall. Even without a clear view, I know it’s of Cordy, taken only a few weeks ago on the first day of school. The smile that forms on Sam’s face is instant, and I can see his eyes beginning to water.

“Corie, she’s– she’s beautiful, Y/N/N,” he says, eyes never leaving the frame.

I join him in front of the photo, and I watch as he studies it intensely. "Let's talk," I whisper as I move away from the wall and towards the kitchen. My eyes immediately fall on Sammy when I walk back in, who’s keeping himself busy with one of his many toys, smiling at the random noises coming from him. I turn around when I can no longer feel Sam’s presence behind me, and I see him staring blankly at Sammy through the mesh material.

“You– you had a baby,” Sam murmurs, taking his eyes off the toddler and gives me a sad smile. “I’m happy for you, Y/N/N,” Sam’s words are hollow. “I'm sure Corie’s a great big sister."

“She tries,” I laugh slightly, “maybe Dean could–”

“Dean’s dead.” Sam cuts me off, his bluntness taking me by surprise. “He sacrificed himself so that we could be together– our family could be together,” Sam’s jaw clenches slightly, and his face reddens. “But I come back here, and you’re married, and have another kid–”

“Sam,” I move towards him. I know how it must look—that shortly after we last saw each other, I found someone else; that I replaced him. “I need to tell you–”

“No, Y/N/N, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Voice laced with anger, Sam stiffens before taking a few steps back. “It’s been three years,” He turns around and heads back towards the front of the house. "I couldn’t expect you to wait around forever, could I?”

“Sam–!” I try to get his attention before he leaves, but he ignores me. I grab Sammy and chase him down as best I can with a toddler in my arms.

“I just– I want to be in Corie’s life, Y/N/N,” Sam says as he reaches for the door. “I want to know my daughter, and I want her to know me. I’m out of the life. Without Dean, I can’t do it; I’m not a hunter anymore. Talk it over with your husband; I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N/N, please, just don’t keep Corie away from me.”

“Sam, wait, please–” He’s halfway across the lawn when I stop him, my free hand landing on his shoulder. Sam stills but doesn’t turn around. I walk around him so that I’m standing in front of him. Sam’s eyes are bloodshot, tears flowing freely from them as he stares at the ground. “Stay.”

“I can’t,” Sam looks up to meet my gaze. “I can’t stay and not be with you, Y/N/N. You and Corie– You’re a real family now,” his eyes briefly land on Sammy again, who’s tugging at the necklace Sam gave me. “I’m not going to stand in your way. You and your husband–”

“Stop, Sam,” I plead, reaching up to wipe his tear-stained cheeks. “I’m so sorry about Dean.”

“We didn’t have any other choice,” Sam murmurs, leaning into my touch as I tuck back some of his fallen hair behind his ear. “Dean, he– he made me promise to come to find you, get our family back. Said that he wanted us to be together, made Cas tell me where you were. I-I didn’t think...” Sam shakes his head and his voice trembles. “I-I wanna stay nearby so that I can stay close to Corie.”

“Mama, look!” Sammy points to Jason’s truck as it pulls into the driveway and tries to squirm out of my hold. “Daddy!” By the time Sammy is down, Jason is already heading towards us. Sammy is wobbly on his feet as he makes for Jason, who lifts him into his arms, causing a giggle to leave Sammy.

“Hey, babe,” Jason places a light kiss on my lips and lets his free hand around settle on my waist. “Who’s this?”

“Jason, this is Sam,” I say cautiously. Jason’s brows raise in surprise as he seemingly puts it together. Sam doesn’t move, only narrowing his eyes on Jason. “Sam, this is Jason.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Jason offers his hand to Sam, and I know he’s trying to play nice. Sam doesn’t move, giving him a tight-lipped smile and a nod. Jason closes his hand and brings it back to his side. “I’m gonna take him inside,” Jason gestures to Sammy, breaking the growing tension between the three of us. “I can hear this one’s stomach growling,” he jokes. “You hungry, buddy?”

Sammy nods his head excitedly, and Jason lets him down onto the grass. Sammy is tugging at his arm, guiding Jason back towards the house.

“It was nice meeting you, Sam,” Jason says after taking a few steps away from us. Sam doesn’t respond again, only giving another nod.

Jason disappears back inside the house, leaving Sam and me alone on the lawn. I don’t know how to tell him everything that I need to.

“He’s cute,” Sam says half-heartedly, and I lift my brow in confusion, “The kid. I guess your husband is too. How long have you been together?”

“Jason isn’t– we’re not married,” I finally get the chance to correct him. “He proposed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Is he good to you?” Sam takes a step closer to me. “He treats you and Corie right? Because if he’s not–”

“He’s been good for us, all of us. Stepped into a role when he could’ve run the other direction,” I laugh slightly.

I can see that Sam has more questions, but my front yard’s public nature makes it difficult. Realizing that Cordy will be home in a couple of hours, I suggest going somewhere more private, promising to answer all of his questions. Sam agrees, and I run back into the house to redress and tell Jason that Sam and I need to discuss everything alone. Jason hesitates, but he reluctantly agrees that it would be for the best. I leave him and Sammy with a kiss, promising to be back in a few hours.

"Dean said that you came to the hospital." Sam sits down across from me at the diner, nodding politely at the waitress as she drops off our two coffees.

"I had to," I murmur, bringing the ceramic cup to my lips and taking a sip. "I'm sorry that I didn't stay. I wanted to, but something about Ezekiel and what Dean wanted him to do, it didn't feel right."

"It's okay," Sam assures me and reaches across the table to take my hand in his. "Ezekiel, he– he wasn’t who he said he was, he lied to Dean from the start, didn’t even tell him his real name, Gadreel. When Dean became suspicious, Gadreel– he locked me away inside my mind, and used my body to kill innocent people,” Sam tears his gaze away from mine and brings his hand back into his lap. “It’s good that you left. You and Corie, you– you wouldn’t have been safe if you stayed.”

Sam spends the better part of the next hour filling me in on everything that happened since we’d last seen each other. I don’t know how to tell Sam about Sammy, and for a brief moment, I consider letting him think that Sammy isn’t his, but quickly decide against it. Sam's face lights up when I tell him, and tears fill his eyes as I pull out my phone to show him the trove of photos of Sammy and Cordy. If Sam was truly out, then I had to give him the chance to be a part of our lives, didn’t I? Cordy and Sammy deserve the chance to know Sam, the Sam I fell in love with.

It’s late by the time I return, and I do everything I can to act as if everything is normal. Cordy, Sammy, and Jason are curled up on the couch, watching a movie, and I greet them quickly before heading upstairs. Cordy calls out for me to join them, causing Jason to turn around and take in my appearance. I tell her I’ll be back down after a shower, and I see Jason getting up out of the corner of my eye.

I don’t realize that Jason is behind me until I hear the door closing only moments after walking into my room.

"I think we should talk," He murmurs, closing the gap between us. I fiddle with the ring on my finger and move towards the bed, taking a seat on the edge. "About us, the kids; about Sam," I nod, and my eyes stay fixated on the ring on my finger. “Whatever happened today, just- just don’t lie, Y/N, please, no matter how difficult the truth is.”

“Okay,” I nod again, and Jason places a kiss on my temple.

“You told me that Sam disappeared,” Jason moves down so that our eyes can meet. “Did you know that he was going to show up here today?”

The topic of Sam was a difficult one for me to breach with Jason. He’s never pushed me for more information than what I am willing to give him. When we first started dating, Sammy was only a few months old. I had finally come to terms with the fact that Sam was most likely dead or worse. Radio silence from Dean seemingly confirmed my suspicions, and I allowed myself to move on, to fall in love again. My feelings for Sam never disappeared, they stayed deep inside me, and when I saw him again, they all came rushing to the surface.

"No," I answer honestly. "The last time I saw Sam, he was in a coma. His brother and I couldn’t agree on what to do. Dean wanted to use,” I hesitate, “extreme measures, I had just found out I was pregnant with Sammy, and I couldn’t–” I don’t know how to explain it to Jason; how I seemingly took Cordy and ran away. I try to find something that resembles the truth. “He was dying, I wanted him to get better, but I couldn’t watch him become an empty shell of himself. Dean had medical power of attorney, and I had no chance of winning any contestation. Legally, Sam’s not Cordy’s dad; there was nothing I could do. Cordy and I said goodbye, and we left. I thought he died since we didn’t hear from either of them again.”

Jason listens carefully and takes a deep breath before speaking again. Whatever it is, I can tell it's going to be difficult. “Did anything happen while you were with him?"

I’m caught off-guard by the question, and guilt begins to fill every inch of my body. I look away from Jason and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is mussed, and my lips are still swollen; it couldn’t be any more obvious what happened. Jason is studying me when I face him again, and tears fill my eyes. I don’t want to admit what Sam and I did less than two hours ago.

“Jason, please," I beg, my shame taking over. “I can’t.”

"Please, Y/N," he demands softly, and a choked sob leaves me. “Did you kiss him?” I nod my head and Jason tenses. I glance up and see a mixture of anger and sadness at my confession, which only makes me cry harder.

“Did you–” Jason struggles to get the words out, and I fear I know exactly what his next question will be. “Did you sleep with him?”

"I'm sorry!" I cry, and Jason moves away from me at my confession. He paces the floor in front of me, face growing redder by the second, his jaw clenches, and I see him ball his fists. “I didn’t– I wasn’t– It just happened.”

"It just happened?" Jason stops in his tracks, questioning me in disbelief. "You don't accidentally sleep with someone who isn't your fiancé, Y/N!"

“I- I know,” I sob, barely able to choke out the words. “It all hap-happened so fast," I try to explain myself. “One minute we were talking and the next Sam was kissing me and then…”

"I don't need the details, Y/N," Jason snaps. "Just tell me, why?"

"I don't know. I wasn't thinking. I needed closure; we've never been able to give each other a proper goodbye."

"And sleeping with him got you that?!" He asks in a hushed yell. If the kids weren't downstairs, we'd be in a screaming match right now. "A proper goodbye? So does that mean Sam's leaving? That he’s going to give you and Cordy and Sammy up? Disappear from our lives forever?"

"I-I don't know," I say between sniffs.

Jason storms out of the room, leaving me alone with my guilt. Jason had been there for Sammy’s birth, holding my hand the entire time. He stepped into the role of step-father when he could’ve walked away. Jason is the only father Sammy has ever known; Cordy took longer to warm up to him, still holding out hope that Sam would be a part of our lives again one day. Jason and I discussed him adopting both Cordy and Sammy after we were married, but now that Sam is back, I’m questioning everything.

When Jason returns half an hour later, he’s calmer than before, but I can still see the anger written on his face. He didn’t deserve what Sam and I did to him, and I wouldn’t blame him for leaving me—us. I watch closely as he walks over to the bed and sits down next to me.

“Are you still in love with Sam?” Jason hesitantly asks and takes my hand in his, his thumb grazing over the ring. “Do you want to be with him?”

“He’s Cordy and Sammy’s dad; a part of me will always love him.”

“That’s not what I asked, Y/N,” Jason gently grabs my chin and turns my face towards him. “Are you in love with Sam?” He asks more pointedly.

“I– I don’t know,” I murmur.

“Y/N,” he sighs, “I love you, and if you tell me this won’t ever happen again, I am ready to find a way for us to work through it. But you have to decide what you want, who you want: Sam, or me.”

I let his words sink in, wondering if the situations were reversed if I would be able to do the same. I can’t tell him something like that will never happen again because I don’t know if I can ever trust myself to not fall back into Sam’s arms. Sam was all I ever wanted for ten years, but I had to put my feelings for him aside so that I could focus on Cordy and Sammy; I have to do what’s best for them.

“I’m going to stay at my house tonight.” Jason’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Think about what I’ve said.” He leans down and places a kiss on my forehead.

“Jason,” I reach for his hand, “I never meant to hurt you.”

He smiles sadly, then leaves. I hear him say goodbye to Cordy and Sammy. The silence that follows when the front door closes breaks my heart. A few minutes later, Cordy carries Sammy into my room, and they both crawl into my bed. She’s old enough to understand that something happened between Jason and me. I don’t know if I should tell her of Sam’s return and decide against it. I’m not ready to answer the questions that will inevitably follow. The three of us fall asleep together; Sammy sandwiched between Cordy and me.

When I wake up the next morning, I know what I want. I know who I want. He was the last thing to cross my mind before I fell asleep and the first thing I thought of when I woke up.

I reach for my phone and send him a message asking him to come over as soon as possible. He replies quickly, telling me he will be over shortly. I put the phone down and turn to wake Cordy and Sammy. She grumbles, but I give her a little nudge and ask her to wait downstairs. Cordy sends me a questioning look through her sleepy features, but she complies when I tell her it’s important.

Cordy’s still half-asleep on the couch when I make my way down, Sammy propped on my hip, also unable to keep his eyes open. My whole body is shaking with nerves as I impatiently wait for him to arrive.

Three light raps on the door have me on my feet in seconds, racing towards the future with the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I swing the door open, letting him step into the house, and he wraps his arms around Sammy and me, holding onto us as tight as he can. I relax into his embrace and breathe in his familiar scent.

As I pull away, I let my eyes fall on his familiar features. I run my free hand through his hair, and a smile appears on his lips. He leans down to press a gentle yet eager kiss on my lips. His rough, calloused fingers tenderly brush against Sammy’s face, and tears fill his eyes as he takes in the little boy’s features. I hand Sammy over to him and notice how small the toddler looks wrapped in his arms. He closes his eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, but when he opens them again, I see the kaleidoscope of blues and greens that I had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Cordy,” I call into the living room, “come here, please.”

I can hear the padding of Cordy’s feet as she mumbles about it being too early to be up. When she turns the corner, Cordy’s eyes widen, and a broad smile spreads across her face. She runs towards us, ready to jump into his arms.

"Dad!"

A/N 3: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it! I did not intend on this chapter on being as long as it is, but, sometimes you can't stop yourself from writing!

Did you love it? Hate it? Please give a reblog or send an ask and let me know what you think of this final chapter!

Elastic Heart Tags @manawhaat @that-one-gay-girl @awesomesusiebstuff @mrswhozeewhatsis @ilovetaquitosmmmm @suckmyapplejacks @traceyaudette

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#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn family

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crashdevlin · 4 years

Text

Centerfold 5- Waiting For You

Centerfold Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written for Meghan who requested some fluffy A/B/O smut and then I came up with an idea and ran with it. Smut will start after the plot is established. Also, this is gonna go toward my @spnabobingo squares. This chapter fills my Motor Oil/Cut Grass/Gunpowder square and is rated T for Teen.

Summary: Dean heads to Vegas with Sam to crash the AVN Awards in the hopes of meeting up with Taffy Rose.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Reader

Word count: 2069

Story Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, pornography, mentions of multiple partners, Sam being a bit of a creeper asshole

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was sure it was a bad idea. There were a thousand ways it could go bad, taking his soulless little brother on a trip to Vegas. But Lisa was pretty much done with him, hadn't answered the phone since he was a vampire, Sam's loss of soul was stressing him out, and he needed a break. The fact that the AVN Awards were going to be taking place the next day was a coincidence...mostly.

"So, you're taking your soulless brother to Vegas to chase down some porn star?" Sam asked, amused. "I can think of a dozen reasons why this would be a bad idea."

Dean sighed. "Yeah. Well, we're going because Vegas is tradition, soul or no soul, and Taffy isn't just 'some porn star'. Jenna Jameson is 'some porn star'. Lisa Ann is 'some porn star'. Taffy Rose is the woman of my dreams and the future mother of my children, okay? She just doesn't know it yet. When I find her and remind her who I am, she's gonna be mine."

"Yeah. 'Cause all the porn stars wanna settle down and have a bunch of pups with some hunter they knew for a week of high school in 1996."

"'95, Sammy, and she's gonna remember me. No way I'm the only one who remembers that." Dean sighed heavily and shook his head. "I mean, I was her first! No way she forgot about me."

Sam just shrugged and pulled out his phone to distract himself. Porn awards could be fun. He could find some willing woman to sink into. It'd been a few days since he got laid, he was itching for some relief. Some tiny thing with giant fake tits would be perfect. And if there was an entire category of omega actors, maybe he could find a nice omega to fuck.

Dean got two rooms when they got the motel. He was confident he wouldn't want anything to do with whatever Sam picked up at the AVN Awards and he didn't want Sam interrupting when he managed to get Taffy, Y/n, back to his room.

Dean had trouble choosing what to wear. Plaid seemed too hunter, too redneck, too Kansas to approach a Cali-based porn star at an awards show. His FBI suits and his old Homeland Security suit both seemed to strangle him with formality. The Pink Floyd concert tee was too casual. All of his tees were. It took a while but eventually he settled on his best jeans, the ones that made his ass look awesome, and his light grey Henley. Nothing that said he was trying too hard, but also not something that made him look like a lumberjack sans the beard.

Sam was already in the Impala by the time Dean left his room. Sam was in a dark red v-neck shirt and jeans and had obviously not agonized over his wardrobe. "Took you long enough, Dean. What, were you rubbing one out so you'd last longer than five seconds when you meet up with her?"

"No!" Dean exclaimed, but he couldn't help but think that was a missed opportunity. "Shut up. Let's go."

They talked their way in, it was second nature to lie to get into places they weren’t supposed to be, and the guard really had no problem believing that the two imposing alphas were bodyguards for some of the actors.

“All right. Let’s split up. If you find Taffy, call me...then, ya know...have at it,” Dean said, gesturing to the right side of the theater before taking off to the left.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked away into the theater. There were hundreds of attractive actors mulling around and they were all wearing various revealing, shiny outfits...all of whom Sam would be willing to nail. He stopped a particularly busty redhead and smiled. “Have you seen Taffy Rose? I’m supposed to deliver a message.”

The redhead looked him up and down like she wanted to eat him and licked her lips. “Taffy’s on the mezzanine with the other omegas. They won’t let an alpha through the door. I could go get her for you,” she offered, her voice seductive.

“That would be great, actually.” Sam let his eyes run down her body. “But don’t stray too far.”

She bit her lip as she walked away on six inch high heels. She was hot as fuck, her dress tight and riding up as she walked. Sam could definitely see her wrapped around his cock. She would be fun to play with. She would be more than satisfying. She would be-

Sam’s jaw dropped a little as a small woman in a light pink crossover dress with a pink plaid skirt walked out. She had nude colored Mary Jane shoes on, natural tits...and looked so completely out of place surrounded by half-dressed, silicone-filled women that it was like a beacon of light shined on her. Sam wanted her. Dean would forgive him for having a little fun before he delivered her to him, right? And if not, Sam didn’t care.

“Hi, Sunny said you had a message for me?” she said, approaching him. Sam loved the size difference between them. Even in heels, he eclipsed her.

“Taffy, right?” Sam asked, stepping closer. He’d seen the pictures, he knew exactly who she was, but he wanted to talk to her longer, get a bit more time to scent her. She was something floral and pretty.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

Sam stepped closer again and she cleared her throat. “You don’t remember me. You shouldn’t. I was, what, twelve when we met.”

“We’ve met?” she squeaked. She swallowed and took a step back. Sam could smell arousal leaking into her scent and he smirked. She was so easy. Dripping slick already. This is what an omega gets for staying unmated so long.

“Yeah. Back in Olympia. Seems like a million years ago, Y/n.” Sam stepped closer again and Y/n gasped as she backed away and her back hit the wall behind her. “Neither of us were presented back then. I didn’t realize how good you smell.”

“S-sorry, I...who are you?”

“Always knew you were pretty, though.”

She took a deep breath and put her hand on his chest, lightly pushing him away. “I don’t recognize you and you’re making me uncomfortable so if you don’t back up and say what you came to say, I’m gonna have to-”

“Sam, you soulless bastard, get away from her!” Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s voice and stepped back as Dean ran up. “I told you to call me if you found her, dammit!”

Sam shrugged. “She’s hot. Had to try it.”

“Go...away,” Dean growled and Y/n shivered. He watched his brother’s large frame disappear into the crowd before he turned to the omega, his omega. “Taffy, sorry about him. He’s...got some issues right now. Mental...issues. Um...I…” His words faltered as he looked into her eyes. She was right there in front of him. “Y/n,” he whispered and she gasped.

She took a deep breath and stepped close. “Dean?”

“You remember,” he whispered, taking his own deep breath of her floral scent. There was a tinge of arousal to it and he almost whimpered.

“Of course I remember. I’ve been waiting to smell that special blend of motor oil and fresh cut grass and…” She leaned up and groaned as she sniffed at his neck. “...burning gunpowder. I’ve been waiting for you for half my life.”

“That’s what I smell like to you?” Dean asked, smiling. “And you know what burning gunpowder smells like?”

She licked her lips and let out a small giggle. “I got shot...in one of my films. They shot a blank at me, I recognized the smell immediately...so I started to hang out at the range every once in a while.”

He smiled proudly. His omega liked guns. Awesome. “I saw you in last August’s Playboy. I never thought I’d see you again and...there you were in the centerfold, lookin’ so much hotter than you did in high school. But somehow just the same. You looked, you look amazing. So beautiful and...somehow innocent.”

“I’m very good at that. It’s my signature look.”

“I don’t know how you pull it off, buck naked, but you do.”

“So...um...I…” She looked away, trying to clear her mind. “So...You saw my Playboy and had to come find me?”

Dean licked his lips and stepped closer. He wanted to touch her, grab her waist and pull her against his body, but he didn’t. Not until she was ready. “I saw your Playboy and I went home and watched every clip of every video I could find with your name. ‘Taffy Rose’, huh?”

“Well, I really like pink. Taffy, rose, they’re shades of pink.”

“I remember. I see you still favor pink clothes,” he said, gesturing at her dress. “It’s a cute dress.”

“It’d look better on your floor?” she guessed, looking up into his eyes. His cheeks burned at her words. “I’m sure it would. Your freckles still pop when you blush.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, some things never change.”

“So, your omega didn’t mind you coming to Vegas to see me?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

“No omega. No wife, no girlfriend. You?”

She giggled, setting her hand on his shoulder. “No wife or girlfriend for me either.”

“Seriously, Taffy.” His voice went soft. “You got somebody waitin’ at home for you?”

“Yeah.” She smiled as his stomach dropped, and ran her hand up his shoulder to the back of his neck. “I have a husky dog named Wolf. Real original, I know, but she was a rescue...already named.” She pulled his head down and bumped her nose against his. “No husband, no boyfriend...no alpha.” He gasped as she kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been waiting for you, Dean.”

His head went a little dizzy at her words. “Y/n.”

“Have you been waiting for me?” she whispered into his ear.

“Betas only, baby. Never had a ‘mega. Only ever wanted you,” he answered.

She smiled bright as she pulled back and looked into his eyes again. “I’ve only ever really wanted you, too. I think about you all the time, Dean. Never thought…” She looked soft and innocent as she sighed. “I’m so happy you found me.”

“Me, too.”

“I might be getting an award, so I...I can’t leave yet, but...after the show’s over...why don’t you come back to my hotel with me?” He was just about to say ‘God yes’ when she finished with, “I can show you all the things I’ve learned over the past fifteen years.” His jaw dropped, words frozen in his throat. All he could do was nod. “Good. I’ve been dreaming of this since high school. Put my number in your phone. You won’t be allowed on the mezzanine with me, so I’ll have to find you after.”

Dean pulled out his phone and entered her number as she rattled it off, immediately sending her a text so that she had his number, too. She shined as she looked down at her phone screen to see the text ‘Hey mega <3’. “God, you’re cute.” She giggled and wrapped her arm around his neck again, pulling him down for a quick kiss.

What should have been a quick kiss, anyway, because he couldn’t let her go once he had her on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She tasted just like he remembered. Her hands buried in his hair as he pushed her against the wall and licked at her tongue. She moaned as his hands moved down her back to grasp at her ass. He was panting when he pulled back. “Sorry. I...suddenly, I’m sixteen with no control of myself again.”

She giggled that laugh that he loved with all of his heart and patted his cheek. “Well, I just can’t wait to see you really lose control, Dean,” she said before spinning away from him and the wall, her skirt twirling as she headed back toward the mezzanine.

Dean sighed and watched her until she disappeared from his sight. She was so much better than he remembered. She was perfect. She was his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie Hunter Tags - @atc74 @sandlee44 @spnbaby-67 @kalesrebellion @tumbler-tidbits @hoboal87 @stoneyggirl @kbl1313 @cookiechipdough @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld @pretty-fortune @screechingartisancashbailiff @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @imperiusimpala @supernaturalenchanted Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm @deanmonandnegansbitch @jadesupernatural @stoneyggirl @4fareader @squirrelnotsam @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @pretty-fortune @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits

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#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #reader-insert #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!dean #alpha!sam #omega!reader #pornstar!reader #dean x reader #SOULLESS SAM

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Reunion" A Sam Gardener/Paige Hardaway "Fix It" One Shot *Atypical*

Alright, I should have been working on my series but ya'll I finished ATypical last night and I was FUMING. Actually I still am fuming. So fuming I had to write a "fix it" fic for the ending of the Sam and Page story. It will NOT end at the Olive Garden. I refuse to believe that.

So I spent all day writing this. I don't care if anyone likes or agrees with it, this was for me. In my heart this is how they ended up. Okay? Okay.

------------

“My my my, Sammy you are lookin’ FLY!” Zahid stepped back and admired his work. Sam had reluctantly let him pick out his outfit for tonight. He felt very uncomfortable in the soft cotton t-shirt NOT the regular cotton t-shirt, distressed jeans NOT regular and non-holy, and an unbuttoned dark blue flannel, NOT a normal polo. But he wanted to look a certain way for tonight, something he thought she’d like. He needed tonight to go perfectly, and not because his atypical brain needed it to. His heart needed it to.

“Thank you Zahid, I’m very uncomfortable. That’s how I know I look good to other people,” Sam nodded.

“So true,” Zahid nodded. “Now are you sure you don’t want me to come with you tonight? Be your wing man?”

“No,” He shook his head as he studied himself in the full length mirror. “I need to do do this on my own, no birds necessary,”

“That’s my Sammy Sam,” Zahid beamed. “Always so literal,”

“Well, I’ll see you after the party ends. Probably before,”

“Unless things go well..” Zahid wiggled his eyebrows.

“If they go according to plan I will still come back home, you know this is the one of the only three places I can spend the night. The other two being my childhood home and Antarctica,”

“Yes I do know that,” Zahid nodded. “I am so proud of you for spending two months in that popsicle freezer, by the way,”

“I didn’t see one popsicle while I was in Antarctica, but I appreciate your praise Zahid,”

“Anytime, Sam. Permission to hug?”

“Permission granted. I’d normally say no in fear of wrinkling my clothes, but I’m pretty sure they’re already as wrinkled as they can be,” Sam raised his arms, gesturing to the crinkled flannel and jeans.

“Alright, well go and get her man!” Zahid wrapped Sam in a huge, tight hug.

“I hope so,” Sam nodded before walking out the door and down to his car that he could legally drive now.

-----------

When he arrived at the school, he parked and went inside, He glanced down at the invitation he needed to enter the party:

“REUNITE WITH YOUR FELLOW OWLS! 5 YEAR REUNION FOR THE CLASS OF 2019!”

He couldn’t believe it had been five years since he had walked down these halls. It seemed to go by so fast; from going to Antarctica to graduating from Denton to getting a job at the aquarium as a vendor selling his drawings of Stumpy and the other marine life. He would even take long term commissions or draw guests right there on the spot. He didn’t like doing those so much though.

He approached the table apprehensively, hoping he wouldn’t be met with any of his tormentors from high school. But to his absolute relief and delight, there to greet him was the very person he had come to see. Her blonde hair was missing it’s usual blue streak, but other than that she looked exactly like he had remembered her: Beautiful.

“Sam!!” Her eyes lit up when she saw him walking up. She ran around the table and met him before he even reached it. She almost went for a huge hug, but she wasn’t sure if they were still in that stage where he trusted her enough to do so without permission.

But to her absolute shock, Sam opened his arms and welcomed her embrace unprompted. Tears lined her eyes as she hugged him as tightly as she could.

"Hello Paige," He simply stated as she had her arms around him. Suddenly she was catching something she’d also never thought would happen

“Sam, are you wearing cologne?” She asked him softly in his ear, not wanting to let him go just yet.

“Yes,” He nodded as he pulled back just a little to face her, but still his arms around her. He usually hated soft touch or holding of any kind, but with Paige everything was different.

“But you hate foreign smells, especially on your body,” Paige blinked in disbelief while also mentally noting that Sam was not letting her out of his grip.

“Yes, I do,” He nodded again. “But I read that this cologne produces pheromones for the female human,”

“Sam!” Paige blushed, biting her lip and looking at the floor. “Why would you need that?”

“For the ladies obviously, buddy,” Sam used his line for lying, dropping his arms around her. He couldn’t focus on more than one social skill at a time. “You look very nice tonight by the way, Paige,” He added the compliment to complete the lie.

“Oh,” Paige’s voice fell a little soft and disappointed, but Sam was unable to detect it.

“Are you done with your duties? I’d have some things I’d like to discuss with you,” Sam gestured to the table where two other women were taking “tickets’”.

“Absolutely!” Paige replied over excitedly. “I’ll just tell them I’m taking my break,”

“I don’t want to break anything, Paige. I’d just like to talk,” Sam said in a distressed tone. He didn’t want Paige to think he was going to attack her.

“Oh no no no Sam,” She laughed nervously. She missed how literal Sam was. “I meant a rest from work,”

“Oh, right,” Sam shook his head nervously, picking at his fingers. He should have known that, he knew what a break was. Paige just made his thoughts foggy.

“Shall we?” Paige pointed down the hall. Sam nodded and followed her into an empty classroom where they could talk uninterrupted. She pulled up a chair at a desk while Sam did the same, then she realized where they were.

“Oh my goodness,” She whispered.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” She waved her hands dismissively. “Not at all Sam. It’s just--” She paused and looked around. “Do you know where we are?”

Same studied the room for a moment, when his eyes caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower.

“We’re in the French Classroom, where I brought you your penguin necklace so you'd be my girlfriend again, and then you kissed me for the first time,” He informed her matter of factly, but with a small smile, a thing he never did for anyone else.

“Yes,” She nodded with a small smile while her cheeks turned red.

“That was a very good day,” Sam nodded while recalling the memory. He would never admit it to anyone, but that was his first kiss.

“Yes, yes it was,” Paige nodded as well.

“That relates to what I’d like to discuss with you, Paige,”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” He nodded while looking at the floor. He was extremely nervous to do this, but he wanted to do it now before he lost his nerve.

“Well, I guess first of all I should ask-- do you have a boyfriend right now?”

“Sam!” She blushed even more; she forgot how blunt and honest Sam was, straight to the point.

“That’s not yes or no,” He stared at her.

“It’s...complicated,” She played with her hair nervously.

“How is it complicated? You either have a boyfriend or you don’t,” Sam was confused.

“Well the short answer is no, I don’t,”

“Okay then,” He started to continue his line of questioning, but Paige put her hands up.

“Wait wait,” She stopped him, trying not to laugh at his eagerness. “Don’t you want to know the long answer?”

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” Sam shrugged.

“Yes I am,” She agreed as she took a deep breath to explain her story. Sam was not looking forward to a long story, but he loved hearing Paige talk. Also he could block her out at any time if he got bored with her words.

“Well, while I was working in Georgia my managers realized what a great foreman I would make,”

“How can you be four men?” Sam asked quizzically.

“No no,” She giggled. “A FORE-MAN, Sam. It basically means I tell people what to do at the building sites,”

“Oh,” Sam shook his head in understanding. “Well you are good at bossing people around,”

“Thank you,” She half laughed. “So, I moved up and up and now I’m a manager myself,”

“I thought you hated being a manager," Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "That's why you used your magic birds to quit Spud E"s,"

"I did hate it there," She chuckled as she remembered that day. "But just because it was at Spud E's. You can hate or love something depending on your happiness in doing it,"

"Oh," Sam just nodded, even though he didn't understand it.

"Anyway, so while I was working my way up the ladder, I met this guy Daniel," Paige's voice lowered as she said his name, she saw Sam's face turn to distress.

"Oh," Sam looked at the floor. "So Daniel is your complicated boyfriend,"

"No no no!" She wanted to take Sam's eyes to make him look up at her but she didn't want to make him more upset.

"No, we did date for a while. And then last week, after I got the invitation for this thing, Daniel took me to dinner," Paige paused, not wanting to push him further emotionally by saying the next thing.

"And he asked me to marry him," She said softly. To her surprise Sam's head popped back up with an even more distressed face.

"So you don't have a boyfriend you have a husband,"

"No!," She once again started going for his hands instinctively to comfort someone, but she knew it was different with Sam. Everything was different with Sam.

"Sam, will you let me get through the whole story before you ask questions, please?" She knew she had to flat out ask him to follow social cues.

"Yes," He nodded.

"Okay," she put her hands in her lap to finish her story.

"When he asked me to marry him, I sat there and I thought about it. For a long time. And I thought back to that afternoon when I got the invitation to come here. I was so excited to come,"

"You do love it here," Sam nodded. Paige gave him a look. "What? You said no questions, That was an observation."

"Right," she nodded her head with a laugh. "Well, then I realized I was more excited about coming back here than I was about the prospect of marrying him,"

"Oh." Sam simply replied while looking at the floor once again. Paige wondered if he understood what she was trying to tell him. Finally after several seconds, he raised his head and looked her in the eyes.

"Paige, now may I ask you a question?"

"Yes Sam," she nodded.

"Good," he nodded looking back at the floor. He wanted to pick the right words, he knew he had only one chance at this. He was so lost in his head he didn't realize how long the awkward pause was lasting.

"Um Sam," Paige's voice knocked him out of his thoughts.

"Right," He nodded, rubbing his sweating hands together.

"Paige," He took a deep breath. "Did you say no to marrying Daniel because the archaic institution of marriage disgusts you, or did you say no because you didn't want to spend the rest of your life with him?"

Paige's smile grew bigger at the question. He did understand what she was saying.

"I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with him." She smiled.

"Good." He nodded, making Paige softly giggle. He didn't hide his thoughts, that's for sure.

"Paige may I ask another question?"

"Yes, Sam,"

"Good." He nodded. This was it, the big question. If he could survive 54 days in Antarctica, he could survive this.

"Paige, would you say yes to marrying someone if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with that person"

"Yes Sam," she nodded with tears in her eyes. "If the right person asked me, I would definitely say yes"

"Paige," he didn't form the statement as a question this time, the one time she was hoping for a question.

"Yes, Sam?" She asked with a very anxious tone, tears threatening to fall down either way this went.

Once again he looked at the ground, furiously picking at a loose stand in the flannel sleeve. She debated whether to say something this time, she could tell he was thinking very hard about something and she didn't want to throw him off. Finally, he looked up once again with the lightest hint of wet pupils.

"....I'm the right person" He said with a very matter of fact tone. He didn't ask, he spoke it as if it was the truest fact in the whole world. He was never absolutely sure of anything, but this one exception.

Paige couldn't hold it any longer, happy tears dripped her face. To her surprise Sam was holding his hands out for her to take. The one other time this happened their love story was ending. She had said that day that maybe someday, they would pick up where they left off. And that day was here.

She gently placed her hands in Sam's as closed his fingers so they intertwined with hers. She looked at him with the same look of love she had when they parted.

"I think you're the right person too," She answered him with a tear filled smile.

To her delight his face lit up with overwhelming happiness, something very rare for him. Even better, he pulled her up out of her seat with his hands still holding hers and kissed her.

It was very softly at first like she was accustomed to given his apprehension with displays of affection, but to her continual shock that evening she suddenly felt his lips press harder against hers, the hardest they'd ever been in fact.

The surprises continued when his mouth ever so slightly, and his tongue traced the very littlest bit of the inside of her lip.

She went as slow as she could, following his lead. She absolutely did not want to ruin this for either of them, and she knew what a huge and probably terrifying event this was for him.

Sam slipped his tongue into Paige's mouth little bit by bit, as slow as Edison's movements. But as he felt the roof of her mouth against his tongue, he began to panic at the thought of the germs they were trading right now. His instincts wanted to abruptly push her away from him, but he couldn't do that to Paige.

Instead he removed his tongue and his mouth away from her, quickly but as gently as his neurosis would allow. To his relief, Paige was smiling from the encounter.

"Wow, Sam that was--" She tried to find the words. That kiss they had just shared was even more intimate than any time they made love.

"That was amazing,"

"I practiced that from a video I saw on YouTube," He smiled proudly. "And Zahid,"

"Zahid?!" Paige almost laughed at his last statement. "You practiced kissing on Zahid?"

"What?! No?" Sam made a disgusted face. "I'm not Casey, or Magic and Sphen,"

"Who are Magic and Sphen?" Paige asked curiously.

"Gay penguins," Sam informed her.

"Of course," she shook her head with a soft laugh. She had missed his affection for penguins.

"Anyway Zahid just showed me how, with his girlfriend Honey," Sam continued.

"You know we don't have to talk about how you learned it, Sam," She laughed awkwardly. "I'm just curious, did you--- did you practice that for girls in general, or me?"

"You, of course," Sam replied in an obvious tone.

"I've never wanted any other girl's germs in my mouth, but for you I wanted to make an exception. I read that physical affection is important in a relationship, and if we're going to be in one for the rest of our lives I thought I should learn more,"

"Oh that's so sweet!" Paige grinned.

"Yes, I know." Sam nodded proudly once more. "If we both brush our teeth profusely and use the strong mouthwash we can try it again,"

"Oh, well that should be--" Paige started to respond but Sam was busy opening the backpack he brought everywhere.

He soon pulled out two toothbrushes still in the package along with unopened bottles of mouthwash and toothpaste.

"Oh you meant right now," Paige laughed in amusement.

"Of course right now, we're going to be together for a long time, we should start practicing now," He shook his head in an obvious manner.

"Sound logic," She agreed.

"Wait, I almost forgot something Paige," He went back into his backpack. He was so focused on getting through the proposal he forgot the best part.

"Oh?" She tried looking where he was rummaging.

"Yes," he finally pulled out a sparkling rock from the backpack and stood up.

"This is a rock from Stumpy's tank. I work there now. Not in her tank, but the aquarium." He explained.

"Oh thats--"

"Paige, can you wait to ask questions until I finish my story?" He mimicked her question to him like a parrot.

"I--" Paige started to correct him by saying she was making a comment not asking a question, but she thought better of it. "Yes Sam,"

"Good," he shook his head in approval.

"Like I was saying, this is a rock from Stumpy's tank. I made sure it was one none of the penguins would miss, but was also very shiny and pretty." He explained as he presented the rock. She just nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"When a male penguin wants to mate with a female penguin, he searches and searches for the perfect pebble to present the female. I didn't have time to find the "perfect' one, and its not a pebble its a rock--," Sam noticed Paige's start to make the face she'd make when he was over informing her.

"Anyway," He dismissed the rest of his penguins fact buzzing in his head. He was already on the ground when he pulled out the toothbrushes and the rock, but he knew there was a specific way you had to be on the ground to ask this question.

He moved one leg so he was kneeling on one knee. He presented the rock more towards Paige, who was crying once again. Sam had to remind himself that people cried when they were happy as well as being sad, especially females. So he didn't have to worry if she was sad.

"Would you accept this rock?" He asked nervously.

He didn't know why he was nervous she had already said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but this gesture meant even more to him, given that penguins were his favorite thing. Next to Paige.

"Of course I will Sam," she nodded happily as she took the rock from him.

"Oh also," He pulled a small diamond ring from his pants pocket and held it out to her.

"My mom said its better to give a girl this so they can wear it, but diamonds aren't a rock," He laughed to himself like it was the craziest thing in the world to give a girl a silly mineral opposed to a sturdy rock.

"Oh my god," Paige softly whispered as he slipped the ring on her finger.

He had told his mother he was going to ask her to marry him. He had planned this ahead of time, even though he had no idea what she would say. He loved her so much, and she truly loved him as much in return.

Finally done with everything he had planned to do, Sam got back up off his knees and gave Paige a small peck on the lips.

"I love you, Paige," He smiled.

He had practiced saying those words longer than he had practiced kissing. He started saying it in the mirror at first, then saying it to his mom, then his dad, then Casey.

He had always felt the emotion for them, he just never felt the need to announce it. But he knew it was important to hear for neurotypicals, especially Paige.

When he had said he was in love with her before the lock in, she had needed several minutes to process it. He hoped she wouldn't need minutes processing this, he wanted to practice kissing again.

To his relief she only took about 30 seconds to accept that she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, he had actually said the words out loud to her for the very first time.

"I love you too, Sam," She kept crying from happiness as he gently kissed her once again.

And they did indeed spend the rest of their lives together, just like penguins.

#sam and paige #saige #sage #sam gardner #paige hardaway #atypical #fix it fic #i love them so much #jenna boyd #keir gilchrist

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kinktae · 5 years

Text

bitchin’ || pt. 3 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 6.4k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: multiple smut scenes, science talk, banter, jealousy, alcohol & LOTS of colorful 80s slang lmao

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before & Stranger Things 3. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness and @httpjeon for editing this chapter!

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

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PART THREE

"You're a psychopath." You accused.

Jungkook let out a scoff, eyes rolling in dismissal.

"You're being dramatic."

"Stop the car."

"Y/N." Jungkook scolded, reaching over to turn down the radio's volume.

"I'm serious, asshole. Let me out!" You huffed before lowering your eyes into small slits. "You're probably driving me off to a remote location just so you can kill me. Bet you're just like that sicko Ted Bundy that they got locked up in Florida right now."

Jungkook's head snapped over to look at you, disbelief in his wide eyes.

"Holy shit, all I did was change the radio station!"

You flashed him an exasperated look.

"You changed it while Wham! was playing. What is wrong with you?"

Jungkook had shown up at the door of your dorm right on time, grinning lopsidedly in his yellow windbreaker as you opened the door, his blatant eagerness effectively souring your mood.

You were entirely against this date at first; it hardly seemed necessary to get to know someone who you already knew you had nothing in common with. Not to mention the fact that you seemed to be the only one who cared that this relationship between you two was literally fake.

If it weren't for Yara physically shoving you out the door, you would have never gotten into Jungkook's ridiculously nice Chevy as he hauled off you to wherever he had decided your date was. He refused to answer when you asked him where the two of you were headed so, needless to say, you were already on high alert.

Him changing the station as soon as Everything She Wants playing was the final straw.

"Nothing is wrong with me, dweeb. I just don't really like their sound. I don't really like a lot of artists on the radio nowadays." Jungkook confessed, shoulders shrugging as he kept his eyes on the road.

"Oh God. I'm fake dating a monster." You breathed dramatically.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, no longer in the mood to entertain this conversation as he turned the knob on the radio back up.

It proved to be in vain, however, as your stubborn self refused to let the conversation drop there, your own hand reached over to reverse what he had just accomplished– the song currently playing fading back into the dull background.

"Madonna." You pressed.

"What about her?" Jungkook droned unenthusiastically.

You furrowed your eyebrows, annoyed. "What do you think about her?"

"Oh. Industry sellout."

"What?!" You nearly shrieked, jaw dropped as you stared at Jungkook's cool expression. You let out a disappointed noise.

"Cyndi Lauper?"

"Mediocre at best."

"Duran Duran?!" You exclaimed. "Wait, no. Don't answer that, I don't think my heart could take it if you didn't like them."

Jungkook chuckled, glancing over at your distraught expression, "Duran Duran is okay."

"Just okay?" You marveled, crossing your arms over your chest.

You were wearing a patterned collar shirt today and when Jungkook first laid his eyes on it, he couldn't help but think it looked exactly like the carpet belonging to the arcade he and friends used to go to in high school. On your left wrist was a bright yellow scrunchie that he swore he saw Yara wear once.

He wondered for a moment what it might look like in your hair.

"You know what the problem is with music today? It's all synthesized, I mean you can hardly call it music." Jungkook continued, pushing his previous thought away. "What's that song by The Buggles?"

"Uh... Video Killed the Radio Star?" You offered.

"Yes! God, that song just barfs me out." He shuttered, a prominent frown on his face.

"Fine, then. What do you consider real music then?"

"Hm, let's see. Twisted Sister, Bon Jovi, Van Halen, Def Leppard–"

"Oh, I see. The meathead is also a metalhead." You mused, the sides of your mouth twitching up slightly.

"Can you headbang to Prince? I don't think so." The meathead in question offered cheekily, wagging a finger at you.

You had just opened your mouth to quip back when your surroundings suddenly dawned on you; Jungkook had pulled into the parking lot of what you recognized to be a roller rink.

"We're going roller skating?" You asked as the boy shifted into park, causing him to look up at you.

"You don't sound excited." He pointed out.

You didn't bother to confirm or deny his accusation.

"Weren't roller rinks considered cool in the 70s... when we were kids?" Was your response.

Jungkook had unbuckled himself from his seat, reaching over into the back of his car to grab his backpack, carefully lugging the brown bag over his shoulder.

"They're still cool. Man, quit being such a downer you're ruining our date." He warned.

"Hey! What did we say, this isn't a date. It's a bonding activity." You piped up, opening the passenger door. "Besides, I'm not being a downer, I just…"

Your sentence trailed off as the two of you hopped out of the car, excited chatter from a family parked nearby filling your ears.

"You just what?" Jungkook pressed as the two of you made your way over.

"Nevermind."

There was a cold rush of air that hit you as Jungkook pulled open the door to the building, causing you to cross your arms over your chest, following him into the dimly lit space.

You could make out the sound of Take on Me by a-ha playing overhead from where you could see the actual rink located in the back. From the looks of it, the arena appeared to be somewhat empty today.

Radical. Fewer people to embarrass yourself in front of.

"Where do we go now?"

"To get our skates, duh." Jungkook stated, flashing you a look. "Haven't you ever been to a roller rink?"

You didn't get the chance to respond to the condescending boy because before you knew it, your hand was intertwined with his and you were being lugged over to where a bored-looking man was waiting behind a desk, a wall of worn-out beige skates behind him.

You stood beside Jungkook awkwardly as he spoke to the employee, speaking up only to protest when Jungkook tried to pay for you and to tell the roller rink man what size skates you needed.

Sat on a nearby bench, the two of you began to change shoes; Jungkook was rambling on and on about how excited he was to skate and how he was gonna lap you ten times over.

Slipping your first foot into the wheeled shoe, you let out a sigh.

"I have to, uh, tell you something..." You began, capturing Jungkook's attention.

"Sure, what's up?"

Pressing your lips together, you laced up the skate, the neon green shoelace glowing under the room's fluorescent lighting.

"So… I never actually... learned how to roller skate." You confessed through a shrug, ignoring the way Jungkook looked at you in surprise.

"Man, you really were robbed of a childhood. And here I thought you were some kind of superhuman who could do anything."

"Firstly, don't question my superiority over you common folk. I am superhuman." You scolded, pushing a finger into his chest playfully.

Jungkook let out a laugh, rolling his eyes at your words.

"Secondly, I mean, we were a family of six. If I got rollerskates, then everyone had to get roller skates. We just didn't have that kind of money." You explained.

"Woah. Family of six, huh? So you have siblings then." He noted.

"Yep. Three."

"Tell me about them."

Looking up from where you were slipping on your second skate, you met Jungkook's eyes, surprised to see genuine interest in them.

"Well… Sammy is the oldest. He moved out when I was, like, thirteen so we were never that close but I see him every time I go back home."

You had finished fastening both skates, placing each wheeled foot on the colorful carpet. You took a moment to drag your legs front and back, enjoying the way the wheels rolled beneath you.

"Then there's the twins, Rosa and Lia."

"Hold on. Twins? Wait… did they go to our high school?" Jungkook asked, his interest in this conversation doubled.

"Yep. They were two grades above us." You confirmed.

"Oh shit, yeah, I remember your sisters, they were mad hot." Jungkook let out a low whistle, before stiffening, flashing you an apologetic look. "Uh, in a totally non-meathead way."

You offered the scared-looking boy a small smile, shaking your head.

"No, it's okay. They are pretty, um, hot, I guess."

Suddenly, you made an effort to stand up, and Jungkook jumped to his feet to help you— you waved him off, of course. The carpet provided enough grip to allow you to walk somewhat easily.

"I still can't believe the Y/L/N Twins had a little sister. And that little sister was in my grade. How come no one ever talked about you?" Jungkook asked as the two of you reached the rink.

You gripped onto the short wall that lay along the rink's entire perimeter, clearly meant for people like you to hold onto so that they wouldn't bust their asses.

"Some kids in our grade asked me if we were related but I would always lie and tell them we weren't. Honestly, I had this weird complex towards them. I hated them for a little while."

Jungkook wasn't expecting such a confession to come from you, and it was clear that you weren't either with the way your face turned away from his, twisting up in regret.

"Really? Why's that?" He asked despite himself.

You felt yourself perk up as the familiar tune of a Duran Duran song came on, lifting your mood immediately.

"It's– ah, nevermind, it was really stupid. I don't feel that way anymore." You waved him off through a laugh, not wanting to unload onto him the heaviness of your childhood insecurities.

"I don't care if it's stupid, you can tell me. I want to know."

You stare at him for a moment, unsure of whether or not to tell him. There was a sense of sincerity in his eyes that wore you down, however. You let out a sigh.

"I dunno, I think it started early on. They were older and there were two of them, so I was kind of the third wheel."

"Ah. Yeah, isn't there some special bond only twins have?" Jungkook added.

"Yeah… Yeah, I understand it now that I'm older, but when I was younger, it just pissed me off." You chuckled bitterly, eyes flickering towards a couple skating around in the ring.

"It wasn't until I entered high school that I actually started to resent them, though. I kind of got stuck in this ugly duckling phase and my sisters… they're beautiful, right? Popular with boys, lots of friends…"

You trailed off, eyebrows furrowing as an unwanted feeling of reminiscence crept into you.

"I liked learning. And I was good at it. And it wasn't like I didn't have friends. I made friends with people who liked the same things I did. I wasn't alone." You continued, Jungkook's eyes glued to your profile.

"My friends used to beg for me to come over and study with them, you know." You looked over at the messy-haired boy, a shy grin on your face.

"It felt really good for people to acknowledge the hard work I put into school. It made me feel... cool, I guess."

"So when people asked about my sisters, I lied. Because I thought if I told them, then they would see everything that I wasn't. They would have something to compare me to and they would see that I actually wasn't that cool."

Your face fell into an unreadable expression, your knuckles turning white as your grip on the wall tightened.

The only person who ever knew you had felt this way about your sisters and yourself was Yara. But Jungkook wasn't Yara. He was just a boy in high school who occasionally bumped into you in the hallways, never paying any mind to where he was going.

Hesitantly, you turned towards him, only to find him already looking at you. Suddenly, a wave of embarrassment washed over you.

"I told you it was dumb." You laughed nervously.

It wasn't that you cared much what Jungkook thought but you had a feeling a guy like him, who was popular and carefree, wouldn't be able to sympathize in the way you would like him to.

"No, I'm just… surprised, that's all."

Jungkook certainly was surprised. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. It was hard to imagine that the girl who was so unapologetically herself was ever unsure or insecure.

Somehow, the idea tugged at his heart, as if he understood you more if only just a little.

Entering the rink, Jungkook skated in smoothly, looking as laid back and natural as always. You raised an eyebrow, doubting that your entrance would be that seamless.

"Feet shoulder-width apart. Keep your knees slightly bent."

Realizing these were instructions, you frowned, walking over to the rink's entrance.

And sure as day, your first step onto the shiny wooden floor was a less of a step and more of a slip, your hands reaching out to grip onto the wall before your balance was completely thrown off.

Jungkook took his bottom lip into his mouth, trying his hardest to swallow down the chuckle that threatened to escape. Instead of laughing at your instability, however, he skated towards you, an amused glint behind his eyes.

"Don't be scared, I'll catch you if you fall."

You offered him a glare, "Thanks, meathead, but I don't plan on falling."

Mustering up your strength, you pushed yourself off the wall, taking a bold step forward. You hadn't wobbled more than two steps when you once again lost your balance, arms flailing around wildly as you tried to prevent yourself from toppling over.

Your feet slipped from underneath you, however, sending you flying backward. Before you could hit the ground though, a pair of arms found you, hoisting you up by the waist as your legs lay sprawled in front of you.

"C'mon now, stand up." Jungkook urged, causing you to let out a shaky breath. You thought your ass was grass for sure that time.

"Can't. It's useless. Just let go, Jungkook. I'll crawl my way off the rink." You shook your head.

Your savior laughed, "New plan. Hold onto me. We'll do a lap around the rink together until you can skate on your own."

Embarrassed, you agreed, carefully making your way back up into a standing position with Jungkook's help.

It certainly wasn't smooth. There was something incredibly unnatural about rollerskating; Jungkook had told you to pretend like you were a duck which only confused you more because not only were you not a duck but you hardly understand the logic behind his thinking as ducks, most certainly, did not know how to roller skate.

With hands wrapped around Jungkook's bicep, however, you found yourself making your first lap. There was one other couple on the rink skating alongside the two of you; they were young— probably still in high school, and you wondered for a moment if to them Jungkook and you actually looked like a real couple.

"What's your major? I just realized I never asked." You brought up casually, the song overhead coming to an end. Lights were hanging that projected down onto the wooden floor, moving around in tempo with the upbeat music that was playing.

If you could actually skate, you imagined this must be loads of fun.

"Exercise science." He told you.

You nodded, "Makes sense."

It was evident that Jungkook took good care of himself, even if you weren't holding onto his bicep, you'd be able to tell.

"What's yours?" He countered. "Biology?"

"Yep. I really wanted to major in Neuroscience but my scholarship wouldn't cover it."

"Oh, you're on a scholarship?"

"Yeah, it's how I'm paying for college, actually. My dad made it pretty clear early on that he wasn't paying for our college tuition." You explained.

"Could you guys not afford it?"

"Mm, well yeah money was a big part of it but he also doesn't really see the value in a college degree. He got a job without one. That's why I worked so hard in school. I knew I had to do well if I had any chance of getting into college—"

Your sentence fell flat as a loud yelp fell from you, stunned as you realized you had just slipped and fallen onto your ass.

Jungkook was doubled over in laughter, your shocked expression far too funny to hold back his amusement this time.

"What the hell! You said you would catch me!" You gaped, the sides of your mouth quirking up at the sound of Jungkook laughing harder, desperate gasps of air breaking through his giggles.

"Quit laughing, pea brain. I'll seriously dump your ass right here and right now if you don't help me back up."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He snickered before moving over to help you up, his eyes watery and smile wide.

"This is so embarrassing…" You muttered under your breath, feeling unstable like a newborn deer.

Another chuckle found Jungkook, finding the way you were pouting sourly just too cute.

"If my ass bruises I'm going to be seriously pissed." You declared stubbornly, before intertwining your hand into Jungkook's.

Jungkook knew you were only doing so to ensure your balance but something about the gesture had his chest tightening in a way he didn't understand.

"So, uh, your siblings! They're all out of high school, right? What do they do?" Jungkook started suddenly, in an attempt to sway his thoughts.

You were humming along to whatever song was filling the room and Jungkook wished he was familiar with the tune so that he could hum along with you.

"Oh, Rosa is an intern for our hometown's newspaper but between you and me those assholes don't even let her write. She does coffee and burger runs for men in charge. And Lia sells ice cream at the mall."

"What about your brother?" Jungkook asked.

"He's training to be a cop just like my dad."

"And your mom?"

"She works at a convenience store."

And so the rest of the evening played out, the two of you sharing pleasantries and learning about one another, with only a few more falls on your part.

Jungkook told you his story, how he was an only child to a set of lawyer parents that let him do whatever he wanted as compensation for being so busy all the time. You bit your tongue but it made sense, considering his behavior in high school. Still, Jungkook turned out alright, you thought. Contract or not, you wouldn't willingly spend an evening falling on your ass with someone who wasn't at least a decent person.

You and Jungkook were sat at a table at the roller rink, a box of cheesy pizza set out in front of you.

"I don't understand. If you love film so much, then why aren't you majoring in it?"

"I don't know if I'm even any good at it. Just because I have a camera and like to use it doesn't make me a director." Jungkook shrugged in response.

"No, but if it makes you happy, then that's all that matters. If you love something and it inspires you then why wouldn't you do everything within your power to go after it?"

You had that look on you again. The kind of look that made Jungkook think that if he were to lean in close, he could see flames ablaze behind your eyes. It was the kind of look at sent his curiosity and admiration for you soaring.

"Isn't that lame? A guy majoring in the arts?" He asked, sounding uncertain.

You let out a grunt, growing frustrated with Jungkook's placid nature.

"What's lame is that anyone should have to be ashamed for doing what they love. Do you know how many times I get asked, 'Why biology? Why not education?' by my male professors? Fuck what anyone else thinks Jungkook! Do what makes you happy." You declared with a clenched fist, eyes glimmering with fervor.

You had gotten so worked up, Jungkook realized; he knew right then and there that you were speaking from the heart and that he was a lucky man to get to see you this way. Even if you had begun to shout and were scaring him slightly.

Turning away from you, the cool-headed boy ran his eyes over the room's walls, pausing only when he found a neon clock perched along one of them.

"What's wrong?" You wondered, following his eyes.

"October 16th, 1985. 6:48PM."

"Yes. That's today's date and time. What about it?" You pressed, growing confused.

"Remember it." He warned.

"Why?"

"It's when I fell in love with you."

Suddenly, you let out a laugh— it was the kind that comes out unexpectedly and makes a loud, unattractive noise and it surprised you both. Your hand clamped down over your mouth as if on impulse before your shocked expression broke, a cascade of giggles washed over you. Jungkook could only stare at you in bewildered awe, wondering if that wasn't the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jungkook shifted back up on the bed, his back having grown sore. Pulling his notebook closer, he gripped his pen. Somewhere in the background, he could hear you muttering to yourself as you worked at your desk, knees pulled up to your chest where your chin could rest on top of them.

The two of you were doing homework in your dorm room, a common occurrence for the two of you nowadays.

Jungkook let himself spare you a glance from where he sat on your bed. You had thrown your hair up into a lazy bun earlier on, but now it would seem it that you had once again let your hair down.

You had the end of your pencil tucked between your lips, captivating Jungkook's attention for longer than he had intended.

Jungkook wasn't sure if it was safe to say that you were friends, mainly because of the contract that was holding the two of you together, but seeing as you two now spent nearly every afternoon together, he couldn't help but think he had whittled you down into tolerating him.

Not that you'd ever admit that, of course.

You let out an audible sigh, whatever task you were working on clearly giving you trouble as you tapped the end of your pencil against your bottom lip contemplatively.

"Break?" Jungkook called out lazily, tearing his eyes off from your lips.

Jungkook watched as you stared down at your textbook for a moment before ultimately swiveling your chair around to face him.

"Yeah, okay." You agreed, lugging yourself off your chair only to hop onto your bed, causing Jungkook to bounce slightly, the springs of your mattress protesting.

Face scrunching up, you brought your legs up onto the bed, extending them out in front of you to stretch out your stiff joints.

Jungkook couldn't help but grin slightly as your foot brushed against his knee. You were wearing your favorite pair of socks – they were a bright red and fluffy, a cartoon picture of Santa Claus knitted into each. Jungkook nearly lost a lung the first time he saw you wear them, but you were quick to defend them, saying that keeping your feet warm was always in season.

"I still can't believe you bought Christmas socks. It's not even Halloween." He began in an effort to make conversation. You rolled your eyes, smacking the side of your foot against his knee lightly.

"You act like I was actively searching to buy Christmas socks. I was on the hunt for fluffy socks and these just happened to be the fluffiest pair the store offered." You defended.

"I would gladly wear Halloween socks if I found fluffy ones." You added, bringing your offensive socks back over to you as you sat cross-legged.

"Speaking of Halloween," Jungkook began, eyeing you cautiously, "the party is in three days."

Cocking your head to the side, you contemplated today's date before concluding that the sweater-clad boy was correct.

"Oh shit."

"We need—"

"— costumes, yeah." You cut Jungkook off, nodding.

Jungkook blinked as he took in your words before shaking his head.

"No, I meant—"

"Yara suggested Bonnie and Clyde or Danny and Sandy from Grease but I don't really know how I feel about a couple's costume. Doesn't that seem too obvious like 'Hey, look at us! We're totally banging!' Do you know what I mean? Also, can we not just dress up as whatever we want to? Can couples really not do anything without each other? I remember whenever I showed up to a party without Erik, everyone would ask about him and why he didn't come. He didn't go because I didn't invite him, morons." You finished with an irritated huff.

"Woah, hold on... you went to parties?" Jungkook marveled, halting your ramble. "Also, who the hell is Erik?"

"My ex-boyfriend. And yes I went to parties. I was in a lot of school clubs and they threw parties sometimes." You shrugged.

"Oh. Nevermind, I thought you meant actual parties."

"Fuck you, asshole. Those were actual parties!" A surprised laugh tumbled out of you. "Anyway, we can go costume shopping tomorrow if you're free–"

"Y/N." Jungkook interrupted, a stern look on his face. You shut your once open mouth, flashing him a cautious look as you offered him your full attention.

"I'm going to kiss you."

Your body tensed in surprise, eyes going wide, "What?"

"At this party. I'm going to kiss you, remember?"

"Oh... Oh!" Your eyebrows raised as his words sunk in.

"Yeah." Jungkook nodded, reaching over to shut his notebook that was now going unused. He wasn't in the mood to study anymore.

"Okay, then. Lay it on me."

"Huh?"

"Kiss me now. Like a bandaid. C'mon, meathead, rip that sucker off." You ordered authoritatively, causing Jungkook to shake his head.

You certainly know how to set the mood.

"Fine." Jungkook mused dryly.

Your composure crumbled, however, as the handsome boy began to lean forward, eyes fixated on your lips.

"Wait!" You blurted, throwing your hands in front of you to halt Jungkook from coming any closer.

"What?" Jungkook pressed, looking slightly irritated.

"No... No, I'm just... I think I'm nervous." You blinked.

At your words, Jungkook's expression noticeably softened. You had this look on your face that he had never seen you wear before. You usually carried yourself with such self-assurance and confidence, but this version of you that was sitting in front of Jungkook... this you looked vulnerable.

"Why are you nervous?" He cooed.

"Because!" You huffed, not noticing the way Jungkook's eyes were set on yours gently. "I dunno, it's just... it's you I'm kissing."

"Is that a bad thing?" He asked.

A silent moment ticked past as you failed to respond immediately.

"...No."

"You hesitated." He glared, tone falling flatly.

"Well, I don't know! Who knows where that mouth has been?!" You accused, pointing a finger towards him. He smacked away your finger easily, a frown finding his face.

"Y/N."

"Sorry, sorry! I get mean when I feel threatened, it's like my defense mechanism." You apologized.

Jungkook chuckled, enjoying the inner turmoil you were clearly going through.

"Close your eyes."

You frowned at his words, knowing what doing so would entail.

"You're overthinking this. It's just a kiss. I don't bite, I promise." He teased cheesily.

You held his eyes for a moment. If there was anything you could give Jungkook credit for was the way he made even the most astronomically complex subject seem so simple, as if you were silly for even fretting over it in the first place.

Taking comfort in that thought, you let your eyes fall shut, hands finding purchase around the duvet you sat on.

You felt the mattress shift, your weight shifting forward as Jungkook moved closer, causing your heart to pound.

And then, he kissed you.

The kiss couldn't have lasted longer than a second, and you hardly had time to register the feeling before the sound of the mattress groaning as Jungkook shifting back into his original spot rang out.

You opened your eyes.

"Oh." You breathed.

"See? Was that as bad as you thought it would be?" Jungkook mused.

"You were right. I don't know why I had hyped this moment so much in my head." You shook your head, laughing lightly despite the way your heart had yet to calm down.

"Told ya."

You nodded, "I mean if anything that was super underwhelming."

"Yeah, like— Hey, hold on. I know it was just a peck but you don't have to phrase it like that, damn." Jungkook's eyebrows furrowed.

"No, it's a good thing!" You tried to reassure him, uncrossing your legs. "I think one of the reasons I was so nervous was because I was afraid the kiss was gonna be good but, nope! Totally ordinary!"

Jungkook let out a low hum. He knew what you meant but there was still something within him that couldn't help but feel bitter. He knew you would accredit it to what you liked to call his 'raging man pride' – whatever it was, it had him pouting without him even knowing.

"That offended you." You observed easily.

"No, it didn't." He brushed off.

"Yes it did, I can see it on your face. I've thrown your fragile man ego off balance and now you're insecure over your kissing abilities." You offered him a sympathetic look.

"Woah, woah, woah. You didn't do any of the sorts because my man ego isn't that easily toppled over, okay? I've got a rock-solid foundation, thank you very much." He scoffed defensively causing you to snort.

"And for your information, I can't be offended because it wasn't like I actually kissed you so suck on that."

You frowned on his words, "What do you mean you didn't actually kiss me?"

"Y/N, please. If I had kissed you like how I usually do it would've knocked you dead." He insisted, nose sticking up in a way that reminded you of Yara.

"What the hell? Why didn't you kiss me you usually do?" You replied sharply, catching Jungkook off guard.

"Uh..."

"Isn't that the whole point of this?" You continued, hand reaching over to flick at the tip of Jungkook's nose.

You held your glare as he flinched in surprise. A scowl took over him.

"What the hell was that for?! I didn't think–"

"I don't want to embarrass myself on Saturday. I need to make sure I know what I'm doing so don't half-ass things! Kiss me like you would your real girlfriend, dumbass!" You scolded, hand reaching over to place another attack against the boy's nose.

Before you got the chance, however, Jungkook's hand came up and wrapped itself around your wrist, stopping you. You attempted to pull back your trapped hand but Jungkook's grip was unforgiving, his dark stare locked onto you.

"What are you doing? Let go." You huffed.

"God, how am I meant to kiss you if you won't shut up."

You hardly had time to register his words when the hand around your wrist was used to yank you forward, Jungkook's mouth finding yours once again.

You were absolutely caught off guard, eyes held open in shock until the moment his other hand found your face, palm cupping your jaw as his fingers pressed into the bone softly, urging your head to tilt to meet his kiss better.

The hand that Jungkook still kept captive curled itself into a fist as you struggled to reciprocate his pace, taken off guard by his sudden vigor.

His lips were softer than you expected and you prayed that the hand that held your cheek wouldn't be able to feel the way your face was burning. The second he finally let go of your hands, you were quick to find purchase on the back of his shirt, gripping the fabric in hopes to give yourself something to hold onto as you lost yourself to the way your shared breaths filled the room every time your lips separated only to meet again immediately.

It wasn't until Jungkook's tongue ran against your bottom lip that reason finally took ahold of you. Pressing back against Jungkook's chest, you broke the passionate exchange, your wide eyes meeting his hazy ones.

"Something wrong?" He breathed heavily, his tongue darting out briefly to wet his bottom lip. The sight causes something in you to stir, so you turn your head to the side, choosing to stare at the wall across the room instead.

"N-Nothing. Just… I need to catch my breath is all." You lied.

It was more than that. This was precisely what you were afraid of. The kiss was good and it was making it very, very hard to want to continue keeping Jungkook at a respectable distance. You really didn't hate the kid and maybe if the circumstances were different the two of you would've gone on to be actual friends but you knew exactly how this was going to end. Jungkook and Kiri would get back together, you'd get your event and as much as you'd like to think Jungkook and you could continue on hanging out like this, you knew that was impossible. There was no way you could face Kiri after all this – not when you were the girl who was meant to be dating Jungkook all this time. You had helped him deceive her; watching and supporting Jungkook through a relationship built on lies was not exactly on your to-do list.

"Can I give you a hickey?"

Jungkook's words pulled you from your thoughts.

"Huh?" You replied, intelligently. That had been the absolute last thing you had been expecting to leave Jungkook's mouth.

"I know it's sometimes seen as a possessive thing so I, like, get why you wouldn't want one but it would definitely get the message across to everyone. If you're down, of course."

You could feel the urge to say no rise up your throat. Jungkook was right, hickeys seemed like a display of ownership – just a primitive way to claim someone as yours as if the emotional commitment wasn't enough. But there was something in the back of your head that was reasoning that he had a point. Furthermore, you could almost imagine the way Yara would be insisting you follow through with it if she were here right now and not in class.

God, she was going to lose her mind when you told her what had just gone down between you and Jungkook in your dorm room.

"Sure."

"Really?"

Jungkook's eyes were doe-like and you found it hard to face them.

"Y-Yeah, whatever, I don't care." You shrugged, hoping to give off an air of nonchalance.

"Wicked." He grinned boyishly, a hand coming down to push against your torso.

Your back met the bed and you didn't even have time to voice your confusion before Jungkook climbed over you, silencing your thoughts.

"Just easier this way." He told you, as if able to read your mind.

You feel yourself tense up as his lips meet your neck, pressing a cautionary kiss there.

"You don't have to be so stiff, I'll try to make it feel good." Jungkook leaned over to coo into your ear, causing a shiver to run over you.

You nodded, relaxing yourself the best you could as you tilted your head over to expose more of your neck to the awaiting boy.

You bit down on your lip, fighting down the sigh that threatened to spill from your mouth as Jungkook began to pepper kisses onto your neck, the feeling surprisingly pleasant. Your chest was rising and falling rhythmically, trying hold in your heart that threatened to leap out of it.

The feeling of Jungkook's tongue on your skin caused a small squeak to leave you, Jungkook taking the sensitive skin into his mouth to sucking at it. Before you could even think to stop yourself, one of your hands intertwined itself into his hair, tugging at it lightly as you felt his teeth scrape against your skin. To your disbelief, Jungkook let out a low grunt, sucking at your skin harder as if in retaliation. The noise echoed against your skin and, embarrassingly, you felt your nipples harden against the cup of your bra, a clear indication that you were getting aroused.

Shit. You were totally getting turned on; you could hardly thread together a single coherent thought and your whole body felt hot.

You tugged at Jungkook's scalp again without thinking and another noise of content left the curly-haired boy's mouth; you nearly threw out a sound of your own as he licked a hot stripe against the afflicted skin.

Before things could escalate any further, however, Jungkook pulled away from your neck, moving back to sit on his heels, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

"There. That should do it." He breathed out.

You sent him a small nod, eyes unable to pull away from the mouth that was just on you.

To say Jungkook's man ego was now pleased as hell would be an understatement. Your face was twisted in embarrassment, eyes watery and unable to meet Jungkook's the longer he stared. The left side of your neck had patches of pretty pink bruises etched into it and he couldn't deny the sick way his chest swelled with pride at knowing you would be wearing the marks he put on you.

"What?" You mumbled shyly, unable to stay still under his stare for much longer.

Jungkook was silent for a moment, lost in the dangerous thoughts his mind was filled with as he looked at the way you were laid out in front of him.

Finally, he shook his head as if to clear his mind.

"Nothing. Just admiring my work." He grinned sweetly before leaning over to press a chaste kiss onto your forehead, leaving you a hundred degrees warmer than you originally were.

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 5 years

Text

Going on Sixty

Dean’s fifty eight.

He’s pushing sixty, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s pushing as hard as his back allows - but it doesn’t seem to be working, and if he’d had a stick - though he doesn’t need one, thankyouverymuch - he would’ve been using it too.

And it’s not just the number.

He’s old.

Bobby Singer’s words have never rung truer, and that man has said plenty of wise things in his life. “Old age is both - forgetting things like a drunk, and hurting all over like you’re sober.” It’s ridiculous. Dean won’t vouch for having had a brilliant brain before, but he didn’t used to forget why he went into the next room, he’s quite sure.

And, oh lord, his bones. His joints creak when he sits, and he wishes he’d given older hunters less shit for it when they’d all been whining in chorus about their goddamn hips. He gets sick easy too - Sam, the ever smart-ass says his immunity is as trash as the meals he’d have when he was thirty. He might be right. When it’s flu season, he wheezes like he might cough his heart out; and he’s sure anyone who hears him is positively scared about it too.

So, there. He’s old, and he’s grey, and he’s slow, and he’s grumpy.

But hell, is he happy.

Everyday, he wakes up on a mattress that’s known him for just the perfect span of time, under a white, fleecy comforter; all seasons of the year because they’re settled in Key West - who set their bets on Florida, ‘twasn’t him - and he wakes up next to the man he loves.

Cas is either curled around him, hands tucked around his middle, or he’s cuddled up, pressed to Dean’s front, and Dean gets to wake up hugging him close, leg slot between his, and his nose in Cas’s hair - which frankly, he’s gotten so used to, that it doesn’t even make him sneeze anymore.

And then they wake up - Dean mostly second; and breakfasts are cooked and coffees are made, newspapers are fetched and kisses are shared, until dressed in fresh clothes to go mostly nowhere in particular, he finds himself seated across Cas on their little table for two - they’d reasoned family meals are more fun on the patio anyway, and ninety percent of the time, it’s really only just them.

And every day, Dean thinks about how lucky he is, and it mostly happens while he’s staring at Cas unabashedly as the beautiful, wrinkled man solves the crosswords, and writes his lists on less printed pages to conserve paper.

Days pass slow, but years are always in a hurry - they’ve been married sixteen years, already. It had all Sam’s doing, that one, he’d never meant to have a grand big day out, with white linen tablecloths and calla lilies and a goddamn wedding photographer.

But he doesn’t need those pictures to remember. Cas, in his cobalt tuxedo, and Dean in his black blazer - both walked up the aisle because either one of them doing it had sounded unfair. He remembers the vows, the dances, and the kiss. It had been everything he hadn’t known he wished for, and he’d cried that into Sam’s shoulder a week after, when Sam brought homethe gigantic album from the studio. That day, he’d gotten to bring Cas home, and make honest men of themselves, he remembered saying - and then, they’d moved into their house together, husband and husband.

The house is close to where Sam teaches, close enough to the shelters they volunteer at twice a week, and at walkable distance from the diners, movies and parks. They have a library debossed in a wall, a garden at the back, and a study for where Dean and Cas alternate taking calls, pretending to be the FBI.

It’s perfect.

And Dean Winchester’s happier than he’d ever been - and it sucks, because it doesn’t really seem to count. Because now, he’s old.

The troubles started slow, as you’d expect them to do.

Dean misplaced the keys to the Impala one fine evening when they’d planned in advance to go play pool and darts at Wren’s. He’d found them at Sam’s, the next day. And if he hadn’t been as busy as he was, correcting Cas whenever he called it ‘losing’ the keys, because he’d ‘known they were at Sammy’s, dammit’ - he would’ve given more thought to how that had been the very start of a long line of similar mishaps.

A particularly embarrassing once, he’d forgotten the other side of the grocery list when he’d gone out - Cas had justifiably nagged him about the lack of oranges, post-it pads, and condoms for the rest of the day.

Once, he got so utterly exhausted performing Baby’s monthly maintenance routine, he fell asleep - and Cas just assumed he was staying over at a friend’s and had forgotten to inform him, so Dean spent the entire night and then some, in the garage.

Yeah, because he slept ten frigging hours a day now.

Dean occasionally complains how it’s happening all wrong for him, because this stuff’s supposed to start at eighty! And Sam and Cas both shine their intellectual scowls at him, and he’s told that he’s been mislead. Cas goes on to add, with a smirk, that since Dean hadn’t exactly allowed himself to age till forty two - when they finally took down Chuck and bowed out of the game - it might be a way for his body to compensate for the delay then. Dean tells Cas then that he’ll make him sleep on the couch, and Sam points out that it’s not Cas who develops a crick in his back from that, and Dean declares that he hates them both.

If someone had told him - and honestly drilled it into his head too, that exercise at thirty would mean surviving at sixty, he would’ve fucking joined his brother on his smug-faced morning runs. He still wouldn’t have yoga’d, to be completely truthful, but he could’ve fucking ran. (Though, he wasn’t sixty yet. That was far, far away.)

But the point stood as it did. Dean felt multiple times the old Cas seemed to be, and especially on the times he messed up and Cas turned even more thoughtful and nice - he has to seriously resist the urge to pull a Crowley and tell his ridiculously understanding husband that he has no idea what old feels like.

Except he isn’t a hypocrite, and theoretically, Castiel is older than mankind, and Jimmy’s older than Dean.

A day just so, when Dean’s home and Cas is gone visiting Claire at her new place - she’d moved in with Kaia only last month, after dating for more than a decade, with a quiet, beautiful wedding in the backyard, so Cas had taken with him a waffle maker to keep up the tradition of wedding gifts in their family - and Dean’s sat by himself on the porch contemplating the nature of being old as crap and acting like it, he’s struck with a horrifying thought.

He hadn’t realized it yet, but all the things he’d been doing wrong, have been affecting his relationship with Cas, somehow.

The keys? They’d had to postpone a date, that Dean couldn’t even remember them going on later. It wasn’t his fault, but Cas had had a busy week. The condoms? Well, go figure that one. The sleeping in the garage? He’d smelled so much of motor oil that even he couldn’t be disgusting enough to lean in for a kiss the next morning.

Perfect. So, it hasn’t been enough to ruin Dean’s dignity and his sense of normalcy. The ghost of two-years-to-sixty had to mess with the best thing in his life, too.

Though, he reasons, Cas has been nothing but accommodating all those times - well, except for when he’s a smartass about it.

Mostly, he just tries to convince Dean that it doesn’t matter, really, and that he understands - but it just irks Dean further. It isn’t fair that Cas can still walk at the same ex-angelic-pace from before, or that he doesn’t have colds and acid refluxes. He’s happy that Cas doesn’t suffer, of course he is - but it doesn’t seem fair.

Cas might be aging with him, but he isn’t growing old.

Instead, while Dean developed body aches and lines on his face, he’d just developed more pronounced crowfeet from the ever increasing smiles, and it just made him more beautiful. And he’d widened some, but Dean just likes that more.

Cas doesn’t forget keys, or sexy items on the Walmart list, or any of the shit Dean pulls. He doesn’t do things which might compromise their time together, or date nights.

Dean’s the one who does that.

He can’t believe he hasn’t noticed it before. He shudders at the thought of becoming like one of those old married guys who stop putting a goddamn effort - because he knows he’s grateful for the life he lives, everyday. Getting married to Cas is one of the best things that have ever happened to him. But does Cas know? Does Cas remember? Dean loves him, but he’s hardly able to show it anymore. He can hardly plan elaborate and adventurous dates, and he certainly can’t orgasm thrice in a night. He’s old, and he knows Cas gets it, but does Cas get it?

Suddenly very troubled, Dean takes another sip from his beer.

As the years passed by, his tolerance for alcohol has gone lower. It even tastes bitter, going down his throat.

Old age just became exponentially worse.

The last straw is something as inconsequential as a backache is at this age, and as horrid as one too.

Watching Netflix’s Queer Eye in the living room, they’d fallen asleep on the couch, in the middle of the day. Their white settee isn’t large enough for them both to lie down, but they’ve managed to settle pretty comfortably, and it doesn’t even feel like they’ve had to squeeze in, because Dean gets to have his hand around Cas, who has his head rested on Dean’s left shoulder.

The episode is long over, and owing to autoplay, Dean wakes up to the Fab Five spending the week with a completely different person altogether; and Cas stirs too, and lifts his head from Dean’s chest, having migrated downwards to hug his hips, and -

“Fuck.” Dean winces. The loss of weight had allowed his spine to straighten mostly, and a sharp pain shot through his back. He has to fight his tongue to not swear again, because Cas is looking at him concerned - albeit, still drowsy.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, in a sleep-roughened pitch, and Dean tries to focus on that instead on his back. How wonderful Cas sounds, and sure he does, but - holyshit, his back.

“It’s - I’m good, Cas.” Dean placates, trying not to speak through his teeth, still trying to ignore the pain.

“Did we really fall asleep at three in the afternoon?” Cas smiles at him, and his eyes are bright and eyebrows are up. “I’m surprised at us, Dean.” He adds, in a not very surprised tone, and scoots upwards to Dean’s level.

The pressure helps a little bit, only enough for Dean to screw his eyes shut and kiss back.

Cas is slow, soft and warm. He is half draped over Dean’s front, and cupping Dean’s face with both his hands like he wants to take his sweet time kissing today - like he has nowhere else to be, and Dean knows he doesn’t, and he wishes to dedicate all his time to Dean’s lips and Dean goddamn wants him to, too.

It’s been some time since they made out like this. It’s leading to no where - of course it isn’t, they aren’t monkeys who do it on the couch anyone; it’s just what it is, it’s very in the moment, and it’s one of Dean’s favorite things to do. Except right now, he’s not in the moment.

He tries to return the best he can, letting an arm fall over Cas, and move his lips in sync with his. Cas is adequately pleased to be the one leading, and makes a happy, contented sound as his tongue enters Dean’s mouth.

And it feels wonderful, but Dean’s back still hurts, in spite of the weight now, which means there’s really no easy way out of this.

Cas chooses that moment to let go of Dean’s face, and his left hand trails under Dean, while the right one moves up into his hair. “Dean.” He sighs, and it’s so perfectly gorgeous, that Dean begs for it to stop hurting, so he can start enjoying too, because they haven’t kissed like this in a while, and he’s missed it.

There hasn’t been a reason to not do it - they’ve obviously kissed good morning and good night, but this is still the fortnight Dean forgot the lube and condoms so they haven’t had sex, and now that Dean thinks about it, his back has been showing signs of impending doom, as well as -

“I love you,” Cas breathes out, still nice and tender on him, and his mouth still engrossed in kissing him.

“I -” Dean looks at Cas, sleepy blue eyes and soft, shaven cheeks, engrossed so completely in Dean - and feels an overwhelming wave of lucky again. “I love you.”

Shit, the least he can do is give Cas what he’s asking for - his back could be tended to, some other time. He’s been a hunter all his life. If he can’t even kiss his husband back without thinking about his aching back, what has he even been doing?

He stops thinking entirely, and gives himself up to making Cas feel good - he hums under his breath like he knows Cas likes to feel on his lips, and tugs Cas closer, and he almost feels better himself, until Cas’s wandering hand somehow snakes to the exact spot Dean’s pain is focused on, and as Cas groans, he presses, and -

“Fuck!” He cries out, almost yells, leaping a good inch off the couch. Cas is on his feet almost instantly, kiss swollen lips now frowning in earnest, studying Dean.

“Was that -” Cas pauses. “Is that an erogenous zone you’ve newly developed, and not told me about?” He asks, and he’s frank is all that matters. “Did you -” His eyes track lower along Dean’s body, where his member is definitely perking to attention, newly so under Cas’s curious stare.

“What? No.” Dean flushes, at the idea of coming in his pants like a horny teenager, from perhaps the most innocent drawn-out kiss he’s ever shared with Cas. Only because he’s been thinking about his back, that is.

“It’s -” He almost tells Cas. Then he remembers the way Cas had looked at Dean, how much he’d wanted this, and how long it’d been. “It’s nothing. Just got reminded of something, or…whatever. Come back.”

Cas squints at him.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Dean swats He still doesn’t dare to move his spine though, because after he’d sprung up in pain from Cas’s hand brushing the area, he’d managed to find a spot where he wasn’t quite feeling the pain.

Cas continues to squint.

“C'mere.” Dean motions, and makes the mistake of turning towards him to persuade Cas with full-blown puppy eyes, which usually work - because another bout of pain shoots through him, and he visibly squirms.

“Backache.” Cas declares, crossing his arms on his chest. “You have a backache.”

“S'no big deal.” Dean shakes his head.

“Okay.” Cas agrees, and sits down on the couch next to Dean, but not touching him anymore. Dammit. Cas had wanted to kiss him, wanted to keep kissing him, and Dean hadn’t even been able to get kissed. He was a complete moron, and now he knew he wouldn’t be able to get Cas to return to the kissing, till he’d dealt with the situation.

“Tell me where.” Cas demands.

“I said it’s not a -”

“Falling asleep on the couch must’ve triggered it. You’ve been stiff since Thursday.” Cas notes, ignoring him. “I’m going to shift the TV to the bedroom tonight. You’ll help me with the plugs and the chords, you always know how to get the wires right. Now, can you walk?” Dean opens his mouth to protest that he doesn’t want to, because all he wants to do is sit on that couch, and have Cas on top, kissing him. “Because if you can’t, I’ll have to pick you up and put you on the couch which can be pulled into a bed, and you can stretch out.”

“Cas.” Dean whines.

“Dean.” Cas replies, matter-of-factly. Dean can’t tell if he’s pissed because Dean’s killed the mood by getting a stupid backache, or because Dean didn’t tell about it before.

Who’s he kidding, though? This is Cas. It’s the latter.

“Well, I haven’t tried to walk yet.” Dean finally gives in. Cas smiles, and it’s not a triumphant smile, Dean must have imagined it. But the fond twinkle in his eyes, he couldn’t have imagined.

Cas gives him a hand in getting up, and hooks Dean’s arm around his own shoulder to mostly drag him into bed. He plants Dean on his side, almost with a nonexistent grunt, and rewards him with another smile.

“Lie down. On your front, if you can.” He instructs. “I’ll come back with some ointment. Do you need help flipping to your front?”

“Y'know, you may wear a coat all the time, but you’re not a doctor.” Dean’s only trying to be annoying because Cas is a goddamn dream, and it is a miracle he loves Dean, so Dean must test his patience to make up for it.

“I used to be able to heal - I think I’m close enough to one.” Cas replies, if a bit sad. “And if nothing else, I’ll kneel next to you, and rub the ointment into your back.”

Dean involuntarily sighs at the thought of that, because while the change in setting is helping, it still hurts like a bitch. And a massage sounds like heaven, right now.

But he realizes instantly after, how he just sighed at that thought like an nineteenth century actress, and grumbles. “Never thought I’d be this happy about a massage. And it’s not even a sexy massage.”

“I’ll have to take your shirt off. I could take my shirt off too,” Cas offers, from the other room, and now he’s moved on to the part where he’s snarky about it instead of kind. “We’ll bag the sexy, don’t you worry.”

“Shuddup. I’ll be lying on my front, anyways. Won’t even get to see ya.” Dean’s cranky, but Cas’s laugh comes across the hallway to him and makes him smile. Cas walks back into the room, sporting a smirk, as he unbuttons his shirt and gestures at Dean to flip over. Dean steals a proper glance. He gets to look at Cas everyday, naked if he wants to, but Cas never stops looking good to him. He’s got the toned abdomen, though you can’t see the formerly well-defined abs. Plus, he’s got chest hair, and there’s his pecs, and the shoulders, and his collarbones - and Dean has a flashback of the time he drunkenly confessed that he’d totally sleep with him, even if he hadn’t been around to see the coverboy model looks he’d had before, or even if he wasn’t the best man Dean had ever known, just because of those arms.

So, sulking, but without his heart in it, Dean adds. “Sixty six’s not your fucking prime, you massive show-off.”

“Ouch.” Cas deadpans, and it’s not even funny, but Dean just loves his wisecracking idiot so much, so he laughs.

But this episode just reaffirms his fears. This newly-old thing is really trying to fuck up his marriage. That stupid backache - which subsided the next day, because Cas’s fingers are magic, and not just when they’re around Dean’s dick or up his ass - had cut into his quality time with Cas. He doesn’t want to let another old-person problem interrupt his time with Cas. He can’t possibly keep this up.

Even if he has to put in more of an effort, he’s going to make it through this.

“Say, Cas.”

Cas raises his eyebrows as means of asking Dean to go on.

“Wanna go out with me friday?” Dean proposed, putting on his most charming smile. Cas looks at him properly, as if analysing his face. Dean reruns his own words through his head, and suddenly realizes how much he sounds like they’re both in highschool. That’s what you say to the cute guy you have a crush on in the boy’s locker room. Or, in the case of Dean’s very heterosexual adolescence, the chick you share fries with in the lunch hall. In any case, it’s not what you say to your husband, suddenly and without preamble, when you’re both in the same bed, having ice cream for dessert while you watch Bohemian Rhapsody.

But Cas’s smile lights up his entire face, when he answers Dean. “Of course, Dean.” And he proceeds to slip a little closer to the middle, so that Dean can have his arm around him while they watch the movie. Dean feels a warmth blooming in his insides as well. Maybe the old thing won’t ruin this for him, after all. He can still make it right.

“It’s a date.” He mumbles, squeezing his hand.

“I thought so too.” Cas replies, and Dean can hear his amused smile in his voice. It’s wonderful.

“Good.” Dean beams. “I’ll meet you in the living room at seven.” After changing clothes beside you in the bedroom at six thirty, he doesn’t add, because it sounds cheesier this way, and one thing Dean’s always loved about Cas, is that the guy really does dig the textbook chick-flick moments. Almost enough that he converts Dean into it.

It’s a goddamn wonder that he doesn’t look as old as he feels, Dean thinks, adjusting his tie in the bathroom mirror. He can’t remember the last time he had to wear one.

He may have wrinkles now, but when he smiles, they look just like the smile lines he’s had since forty. Got to smile more then, he notes, grinning at the mirror, and feeling satisfied with the results.

He’s wearing a blue shirt, which is a much lighter color than Cas’s eyes are - he’s not even trying to be cheesy, but when you spend all your time looking at your husband’s spectacular eyes, you develop tendencies to compare it to everything else blue you see. And he’s trying out a new-ish fad, and wearing a tie without a blazer. It’s too hot for a blazer. But Cas likes him in ties, so he’s wearing the one Cas got him for his fifty sixth birthday.

It’s indigo, with grey stripes. Cas is wearing grey, he knows. He caught a peak when Cas picked it out of their closet. He likes that shirt.

Dean looks at himself one last time.

For all his whining, he can still clean up nice. He marches out of the bathroom, feeling a little proud of himself, and excited to find Cas. Sure, blame him for wanting to see Cas’s reaction when he checks him out.

He reaches the living room, and is stunned, momentarily. "Cas.“ He just says, without meaning to. The word rolls off his tongue, like it does a thousand times each day, and Cas turns towards him.

He is in the grey shirt Dean anticipated, but he hadn’t been prepared for how it looked on him, and he’s rolled it up to his elbows in just the way Dean’s told him multiple times he likes - and he’s wearing jeans instead of trousers, and he’s done something to his hair that Dean has no time to process, because Cas is soon walking up to him, and Dean’s definitely losing his peripheral vision too now, fucking presbyopia - or maybe all his eyes want to do is focus on the eyes, and tune all else out.

He has no time thinking about Cas’s reaction on seeing him, not when Cas looks like this, does he?

“Good eve - Okay, hi.” Dean abruptly ends, eyes widened, as Cas reaches him, stopping unbelievably close. It’s stupid how he’s literally done everything there is to do, with this man - and his proximity still gets Dean flustered sometimes.

“Good evening. You look breathtaking.” Cas tells him, having to look just the little bit up to meet his eyes.

“Well, I - uh, we still got it.” Dean corrects, leaning downwards to close the gap. Cas hadn’t been expecting it - why not, Dean has no idea; but it’s fun to take him by surprise as Cas slowly melts into the sensations, and Dean only pulls away for air.

He’s never going to get tired of kissing this man. He’s never going to have had enough. Even if it had been all he did in all of his life, till the day he breathes his last, it’s not going to be enough. Dean’s gonna get old and Cas is not, because he might not be immortal anymore, but he never learnt to start aging - and Dean’s gonna wither and fucking die someday, and all things in the world are gonna get old, but kissing Castiel? That’s never going to get old.

Cas inhales slowly, deeply, and looks at Dean in that particular way which he reserves for Dean. Dean really fucking loves it.

“I thought we were going to go out.” He says, and the teasing is loud and clear. Dean almost gives in too. As if he’d turn down an offer to stay back in bed with him.

“Yeah, but we aren’t roleplaying a first date.” Dean says, instead, his upstairs brain getting the better of his downstairs one. “We’re still going to be married. We still get to kiss.”

“Then why was I looking up icebreakers, earlier?” Cas grins back.

“Because you’re a weird, dorky little guy.” Dean offers, but pulls back too. The further away he stands from Cas, the lesser is the risk of them not being able to make it to the date.

“I’m hardly little.” Cas looks satisfied enough by pointing that out, to not respond to more, and instead goes to pick up his trenchcoat. “Are we leaving now?”

“Sure, big guy.” Dean rolls his eyes. He puts on his own coat, having to stretch his back to get in it. It’s a pleasant surprise, but none of his body parts are aching presently. He’s hoping it stays this way. “I’ll drive the car out to the front. Wait outside for me?”

Cas nods, and Dean goes. He settles in the driving seat, and slides his hands down the cover of the steering wheel. “You ready to charm my date for me, Baby?” He mutters, affectionately, as the engine roars to life and soon subsides to a purr as he drives it out of the garage.

Cas gets in next to him.

“That’s fresh air.” He points out.

“I know.” Dean grins at him, sideways.

“You used an air freshener.” Cas adds. “In your car.” He pauses, as if to process. “This doesn’t smell like the house either. You used a car freshener.”

“I know.”

“You must really love me very much,” Cas jokes, and Dean’s stomach almost drops because hell, that was quick. And of course he does, kind of why he orchestrated the entire thing. He doesn’t know what to say, so he does the one-shoulder-shrug - the universal sign for, I guess.

Cas ducks his head at that, and it’s all sorts of adorable. “So.” He starts, as Dean starts to drive. “Will you tell me where we’re going?”

“You’ve had plenty of time to ask me before,” Dean remarks. “I know you like being surprised. Are you sure you want me to tell you, or is this just one of the icebreakers Buzzfeed taught you?”

Cas chuckles. “Both? And I’m not an amateur. I used Bustle.”

“Well,” Dean grins back. “It’s this newish continental place, near the bowling alley we went to on my last birthday. I looked it up on the internet after hearing of it from various sources, and they have pretty good reviews. We’ll have to try the thukpa.”

“Then we shall do so.” Cas answers.

“Yeah, place is real busy too.”

“Oh.” Cas bobs his head. “What time did you book for us?”

“Yeah, funny thing, I had a problem getting - oh, son of a bitch!” Dean suddenly pauses, horrified. The car swerves as he realizes, and stops thinking entirely. Then he’s pulling over, taking an acute turn from the middle of the road, and Cas is staring at him, trying to figure out the cause for the strange behavior. Nothing had happened on the road.

“Fuck!” He swears, still gripping the wheel. Cas is beginning to panic, asking Dean what’s wrong, on repeat. Dean doesn’t know where to begin. Horrified at himself, absolutely whitening rage - he turns to glare at Cas, though he’s only furious at himself.

“Fuck.” He repeats, for emphasis. “I forgot to make the fucking reservations.”

Dean storms into their house, having parked the Impala on the road, trusting Cas to follow. He keeps up, indeed, constantly asking Dean what was up with him. Dean unlocks their door frustratedly, and prances inside.

“Please sit.” He motions, waving his arm in the direction of the couch.

“We could just have driven around!” Cas protests. “Dean, I get that you’re irritated at yourself, but -”

“No.” Dean states, flatly. He sits gingerly down on the armrest of a couch, as Cas takes the other sofa. “I need to do this. We need to talk.”

For a fraction of a second, Cas’s eyes widen, and they’re a little bit worried. Frightened. It must be the pop culture affiliations that phrase has.

Dean leaps to correct himself. “No! Not like that - Never like that. You’re perfect, Cas.” He sighs. “You’re everything I could ask for.”

“And you’re upset about that.” Cas points out, blinking.

“No, idiot. I’m fucking thrilled. But I’m not.”

“So, you’re thrilled, and you’re also not thrilled.” Cas repeats, squinting at him now. Cas is leaning towards him, and Dean gets up from the armrest, and begins to walk around, to avoid Cas’s eyes.

“No. I am thrilled. I’m just not everything you could ask for.” Dean admits, with resignation. He’s tried to fight it, he’s tried to be better, he’s tried everything, but he’s old and pathetic and cannot even keep Cas assured that he loves him - as was just exhibited. He’s been doing everything wrong, for everything right that Cas does.

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but Dean goes on. “I don’t remember stuff, and I can’t do things anymore - and I creak, Cas - and you’re always so fucking okay with all of it, but you shouldn’t have to be with someone who can’t even remember to book a table for a date!”

“I told you we could’ve driven around the town, and then microwaved leftovers for dinner.” Cas throws back. “I liked that car smell.”

“You shouldn’t have to compromise!” Dean argues. “You give me everything I want. You should get everything you want too, Cas! That time, we had to cancel a date cause I lost my keys -”

“You didn’t lose them.” Cas tells him, cutting him off. Dean can’t tell exactly what mood Cas is in right now, but he sure sounds annoyed. Wow, so now Dean’s managed to do that too. Kudos to him. “And I don’t even want to go there now. Claire told me the owners were loud Republicans.”

“That’s not the point.” Dean complains, trying to remember what the point was, himself. “That afternoon! You wanted to make out, and my back was killing me, and we couldn’t -”

“I could always just kiss you now.” Cas declares, standing up, as if to prove his point.

“Not the point.” Dean hurriedly passes the opening to postpone this conversation. “Cas, I just want you to know that I wish I could be more. Like before. Or better yet. I was never enough -”

“Stop.” Cas positively yells, at this point. “I don’t care about the 'point’ you’ve conjured up, Dean. I get a say in this.” Dean’s silenced by the glare he receives. “I love you.” He begins, softening.

“I know.” Dean sighs.

“And I could not have asked for anything more than you are, Dean Winchester.” Cas takes a step towards him. Dean - okay well, he doesn’t move away, as much as he shuffles his weight to the other hip. He wants Cas to get there. “Because you’re everything.”

Dean blushes, though it’s a stupidly common line, because Cas isn’t just saying it. He’s practically emanating it. “Cas, no -”

“And you talk about not putting in an effort?” Cas rolls his eyes, and his neck goes with it. “Well, what have I been doing, then? I’ve been so comfortable with what we have, that I haven’t been initiating newer things, or asking you out, or -”

“That’s not your fault.” Dean says, shortly. “We’re not a week into dating. We’re settled, and domestic, and those are good things. If you were on your toes about us doing new things all the time, what’s the meaning of all the time we’ve spent together?”

Cas looks appalled, though Dean thinks he’s done a good job explaining it. “Awesome. You can whip out thoughtful lines like those when I talk about not putting in an effort anymore, but when it comes to you, I suddenly seem to want more?”

“Don’t you try to Dr Phil your way outta my fuck-up, Cas.” Dean warns, knowing exactly where Cas would take this.

“I don’t have to.” Cas replies. “Because it’s not your fuck-up. It’s mine. Somehow, I’ve failed to make you realize how much I -”

“You’ve not failed at anything!” Dean frowns. “I know you’re going to say you love me, and I -”

“What, you think I just say it?” Cas retorts. “There are millions of words out there, Dean. I have an exquisite vocabulary. I adore you, and I’m bewitched by you, and I cherish you, and I’m devoted to you, and I’m enchanted by you. But at the end of it all, I love you, for nothing could say it better.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Now, you’re going to let me apologize for allowing you to let such insecurities fester.” Cas tells him, having caught Dean in a daze. “You’ve always made me feel loved, Dean. And in these last sixteen years, you’ve made me happier than I could ever have known. You’ve smiled my bad days into better ones, and cooked meals for us to share on that little table, and you’ve let me kiss you, and make love to you, and be wedded to you, and you’ve never once let me feel alone. And since that’s what I’ve most felt, before you, I am more grateful for you than you could ever imagine.”

Dean feels his throat clog up.

“And every day, Dean, I’ve woken up knowing I love you, but gone to bed at night, next to you, somehow even more deeply in love.” Cas emphasizes. He’s standing much closer to Dean now.

“And I cannot believe I’ve never said this aloud, for I think about it all the time.” Cas swears, his tone delicate. “But you’ve grown and changed so much, that it’s that much easier to love you now. It was always too simple, but little by little, you’ve molded into all my nooks, and filled every strange-shaped crevice of everything I ever wanted.”

Dean’s lips tremble, as he buries his face in Cas’s neck, and lets Cas hug him close. He feels a tear slip down his face, but it doesn’t matter, because Cas’s arms are around him, pulling him close, and he can just pause, and listen, and breathe Cas in.

“I don’t know how long it took, the first go-around, as you call it. Maybe I fell in love with you when I rebuilt you, or when I fought with you against Heaven, or by that river in Purgatory.” Cas whispers, words a little garbled as they’re spoken into the fabric of Dean’s shirt. “But if I had met you today, I would’ve fallen in love with you in a day.”

Dean lets out a choked sound, he wants to believe is a scoff. “You only had to ask if you wanted me to have a dad-bod, buddy. Back then, I mean.”

“You’re nicer to hug.” Cas justifies, and on cue, holds on tighter. “But it’s all the other things too. Now, you -”

“Please. Stop, Cas.” Dean begs, and it’s only a little bit of a joke. “If you go on anymore, I’m going to have to sit down, and then I’m not going to be able to get up, without being vastly unattractive about it.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Cas informs him, pulling away to look at him better. “But fine. We can finish this conversation later.”

“And I can tell you more of my side,” Dean looks down at the floor, embarrassed. “Without you rambling off poetry about our relationship, and making it all sappy like you love to do.”

“Only if you aren’t determined to fault yourself.” Cas conditions, smiling now. He’s so beautiful.

“But I -”

“Dean.” Cas scowls, and Dean shrugs, quieting down. “Only if you swear to skip to the part where we talk about how to help you overcome this. Because, I’m sorry, but it’s not me who feels what you think I feel, at all.”

“Shuddup.” Dean mutters.

There’s a silence, a warm and comfortable one. Cas smiles, again, little but pleasant - and Dean mirrors it. He loves Cas so much. And Cas loves him.

“Date nights.” He blurts. “We could do date nights.”

“Of course.” Cas looks amused, but in a good way. “I think we could pull those off.”

“Let’s have them thursdays.” Dean smirks, and Cas grins.

“Good choice.”

“And let’s go on a vacation.” Dean suggests, suddenly. The pressure is gone, but the adrenaline hasn’t worn off. Their entire future seems to be a sky of possibilities. To make each other feel loved, and to be happy. To put in efforts, without making it a big deal. They can do this. “Let’s go to a beach. Out of the country. We could go on a cruise.”

Cas beams. “I would like that, yes.”

“And -” Dean stops himself, blushing.

“Yes?” Cas urges.

Dean squirms.

“- would you like for me to choose more panties for you?” Cas says, tentatively, at the same time that Dean says, “I want to dye my hair.”

Dean lets out a nervous chuckle, as Cas’s eyebrows go up. “Both?”

“Both.” Cas nods, stepping closer again, but this time it’s not a hug, as his hands go around Dean’s middle, but his head doesn’t go on his shoulder. Dean’s the one who closes the gap, exhilarated.

They’ve got this.

And as they eventually fall back on one of the couches, Cas straddling Dean because he’s the only one of them who can still do that - Dean remembers that they never pulled the curtains down, and moves to stop Cas.

“Curtain.” He pants. “Could you -” Cas doesn’t seem to get it, and continues to lavish kisses on his clavicle. “Cas.” Dean groans. “The window, please. No one wants to see two old geezers getting sweet on each other through the window.”

“Maybe exhibitionism would rekindle the spark you claim is dead for me.” Cas mocks. “And I prefer lovely, married couple. Less old, less geezer.”

“Sure you do.” Dean laughs back, burying his face in Cas’s chest. “You’re a billion years ancient ex-wave, and I’m definitely a geezer, but sure you prefer lovely, married couple.” Cas’s laughter rumbles through him, and Dean can feel it too.

And just like that, it’s pretty frigging perfect - the sixty 'round the corner be damned.

786 notes · View notes

gyll-yee-haw · 4 years

Note

oh girl, i need a good smut with Sam Hall ( the day after tomorrow) :(

This request surprised me very much, but I LOVED it! Sam is a cutie, my nerd heart is in love and I had so much fun writing this... hope you like it! 😊

(I mean, I loved it so much that I created a whole background and it got too long accidently, but... I have no regrets, tbh)

---

Imagine being childhood friends with Sam

Hanging out at his house literally all the time

Sometimes to study, sometimes to listen to music, or just to lie down, looking at the ceiling, talking about nothing

Being with you was always his favorite part of the day

He wasn’t sure at what point of his life his best friend started to look... different

Maybe you didn’t really change, but he did

Cause whenever his friends talked about some girl they were into, he couldn’t help but, even if only mentally, compare her to you, which made her really uninteresting for him

He liked to look at you

Take silly pictures together and stare at them for hours after you were gone

But you were OBVIOUSLY just friends

Yeah, it was pretty obvious until the day he dreamt about you

In his dream, you were laying down on his bed, a scene he was pretty used to

Except that this time you were slowly taking your clothes off

While calling his name

And at the moment he got on top of you, inches away from kissing you, he woke up...

Took him a while to come back to reality, it was like he could still hear your voice

God, the way you sounded saying his name like that...

The more he thought about it, the worst he felt

Cause now he was painfully hard, and even though he tried to think of any actress or model he was attracted to, his mind always went back to you

He thought it was probably just a one-time thing, I mean... everyone already had a sexual dream about someone and didn’t really understand why, right?

And if he touched himself thinking about you just this one time, nobody had to know...

He would just fix that and never think about it again

Well, at least he thought he would

Cause the next morning, when he first saw you smiling at him at school, he knew he was absolutely fucked

It had nothing to do with the awkwardness after one of those dreams

He just wanted to be your boyfriend so bad

Hold your hand, kiss your smile

But he just couldn’t risk your friendship... he didn’t even remember what life was like before you

So he avoided you as much as he could

But at the moment you knocked on the door at his house and his mom let you in, he couldn’t just tell you to get out

At least not without hurting your feelings, and he would literally rather die

“Hey, I...” He said as he watched you enter his room and sit on his bed as you took off your shoes, like you always did. “Didn’t realize we had homework...”

“We don’t.” You shrugged. “I just came here to nap, you know your bed is a lot more comfortable than mine. Your company is quite nice too.”

He didn’t say anything and tried his best to avoid eye contact as you laid down, saving him some space

“Won’t you join me?” You patted what you called ‘his side of the bed’, even though the bed was technically his, you shared it like an old married couple for years

He couldn’t think of an answer better than ‘I like standing’, so he decided it was better to just join you in silence

You laid down with your back turned to him, but even after closing your eyes, you could feel his gaze on you

“You’ve been kinda distant lately.” You finally broke the silence. “You know you can talk to me if something is wrong, don’t you? Is it something with your dad?”

“No.” He sighed. “It’s not my dad.”

“What is it, then?” You insisted.

“Nothing.” He shut his eyes, and opened them when he felt you turning around to face him

He tried to remember how he used to be capable of having his face this close to yours and not having the urge to kiss you

“Please, don’t.” He whispered.

“Sammy...” You sighed.

The way you called him ‘Sammy’, begging him to let you help, reminded him of how you begged for something else in his dream, and he lost his mind only for a second

But it was enough time for him to lean closer and place a kiss on your lips, without thinking of the consequences

But the consequences were that you kissed him back, and he wouldn’t imagine that anyway

He pulled you closer to him as the kiss got deeper and you felt he was hard, which made you a little nervous

Not that you didn’t want that... but like... 5 minutes ago none of you had no idea you even liked each other back

He got as nervous as you when he realized you felt his erection, so he broke the kiss

“I’m sorry, I just...” He started, but wasn’t sure where it was going

“It’s okay.” You smiled. “I didn’t want you to stop, to be honest...”

“Really?” His eyes widened.

“Well...” You chuckled. “I can’t say I expected that, but I kinda had a crush on you my whole life.”

“Me too, probably.” He admitted. “I just took ages to realize it, but after that dream I just...”

“What dream?” You interrupted him

His face went red immediately and he refused to tell you

“Did you have a dirty dream about me?” You bit your lip, you knew your best friend too well

“No.” He lied

“Why are you this hard, then?” You smirked, pressing your thigh against his erection

“Y/N...” He sighed

“We’re alone in here.” You told him. “Your mom left for work right after letting me in.”

He was pretty sure it was just another dream and this time would be even more painful to wake up

“Come on, tell me about your dream...” You said as you spread kisses on his neck

“Can I show you?” He moaned and his hand went under your shirt

“Please...” You helped him remove your shirt

“Are you sure?” He smiled, taking a look at your body

“Yes, fuck...” You pressed your thighs together, cause the way he was looking at you was too hot. “I need you.”

He removed his shirt too and lay down on top of you, starting to kiss you again

The kiss became really messy as the two of you tried to remove each other’s pants

And when he removed his underwear, you looked down and moaned at how big and beautiful he was and you couldn’t put into words how much you needed him

But he read your expression very well, and you just know he blushed

But he didn’t blush half as much as he did when he removed your panties and saw how fucking wet you were

You didn’t have to talk about it, cause both of you knew it was your first time and his too

So he entered you really slowly, filling your face with kisses and saying things like “Fuck you’re so beautiful” or “You feel so good” to make you forget about the pain

But once you were used to it, it was the CUTEST thing ever

Like, the two of you were all smiley, intertwining your fingers with his, kinda messy, at a weird rhythm, but discovering so many feelings together

You came first and he watched it like it was the most amazing scene he had ever witnessed, and he just couldn’t believe he caused that to you

He was kinda shy to ask this at first, but he just needed to cum so bad... and you were still coming back from your high, you would do absolutely anything, so he asked:

“Please, baby... can you say my name? I’m so close...”

And you smiled at how fucked up you got him just by moaning “Sammy” on repeat

Then he came saying yours too

After he removed himself from you, he lay down by your side, and no one really had to say anything. It was obvious that now you were his and he was yours.

#sam hall #sam hall smut #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #sam hall x reader #jake gyllenhaal x reader

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liron-ao3 · 4 years

Text

Read it on AO3

Dreams of water and sand

A post-canon Destiel oneshot

Dean watches out over the lake. He isn't even sure if it holds any fishes that might bite, but sitting here on the wooden boardwalk, a fishing rod lazily in his hand, just like in his dream all those years ago, he doesn't care. It's not his purpose today, whatever meaning this word might hold in heaven.

Time is strange here. It's running fast, but everything seems to be slowed down at the same time. Maybe that's just what eternity feels like.

Dean wonders how it must have been for Castiel to be pulled out of his millennia, from humanity nonetheless, a blink of an eye for a celestial being like him.

Dean bites his lip. He never really understood him back then, not even as little as he did at the end. He called him for bullshit reasons, always complaining that the angel didn't make him his priority.

He still cringes thinking about it. Castiel's people were fighting for their existence and he just ...

There is no use in self-deprecation after all this time. No use in deconstructing himself over things he can never make right again. This wasn't the last time that he didn't listen, that he didn’t ask for Castiel's motives, didn't tell him that he needed him as more as a tool to whatever mission Dean was set on.

Sure, he called him family, even brother. But it was all a lie. At least if you count omission as lying. He should have said something before the Empty took him. He should have said something when he found him in purgatory.

There are many, many regrets that Dean collected in his too short, yet eventful life. But when he was dying and all the words he needed Sammy to hear before he was gone were said, in his last second there was nothing worse than that he didn't say it back. That Cass had died never hearing these words from him. Not even disguised as brotherly love.

"I'm so sorry, Dean. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be," Castiel says, suddenly standing next to him.

Dean doesn't even flinch. He waited for him here, prayed for him to come. A small part of him doubted that he would.

He watches the angel from the corner of his eye. His tie is crooked as always, his trademark trenchcoat pushed back just like the suit jacket as Castiel has his hands in the pockets of his pants.

A light breeze works through his messy hair. Dean wants to know what it feels like to run his hand through it, wants to see the smile that he imagines to elicit by it.

"I always knew that I would go out swinging, Cass," Dean tries to comfort him and isn't that the strangest thing? Shouldn't the angel be happy that he is here, in the heaven he specifically built for him?

"No," Castiel insists, voice even and sure, "you should have lived a long, happy life, should have had a house with a garden and a swing, a beautiful wife, and green-eyed kids that smile like you do."

Dean turns his head to look at him properly, the confusion forging deep lines into his features. "Do you really think that's what I was dreaming of?"

Castiel still looks out at the lake, hands clearly fists in his trouser pockets.

"What were you dreaming of?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper above the soft wind blowing waves over the water surface.

Dean chuckles. He knows it's silly, but he owes Castiel the truth. After all these years of not being open, of omitting and fogging the truth, of keeping him in the dark, he deserves to know.

"This. I dreamt of this. You and me, sitting on this boardwalk. Me holding the rod in one hand and your hand in the other. You with one of those silly fishing hats. Just sharing the peaceful surroundings and nature's sounds."

He stops talking for a moment, waiting for the angel to fill the silence. Dean turns his face up and to the side, studying the lines scattered around the angel's eyes, the straight line of the bridge of his nose, his eyelashes so beautiful in the afternoon-ish sun. He wants to brush his thumb over the everlasting scruff on Castiel's jaw, wants to kiss these chapped lips until they are wet and glissening.

He needs to look away again. It's too much. He had never allowed himself to look at him this closely and now all the details that make Castiel his Cass are overwhelming.

But maybe it's too late. Maybe now back in full grace Castiel doesn't feel for him what he felt back on earth, slowly turning more human, losing his essence to become a smaller version that was just content in being useful to the Winchester's.

A sudden pain works its way to Dean's heart, clenches it harder than death's hold on it on that fateful day.

I love you, Castiel had said then and every bit of solid ground inside of Dean had crumbled away. Truths that he held as his own for decades. That he wasn't good enough, not worthy of unconditional love, only useful in the roles he assigned to himself or let others assign to him: son, brother, friend, the ladies' man, Michael's sword, father.

All that fell away and in the ashes that remained, for the long minutes that he sat on the cold floor after Castiel was gone, there was only one role left, one he couldn't ever allow himself to carry out of the bunker: Dean, the man who was loved by an angel and worthy of being loved. It was tangible and yet fleeting.

How could he hold on to this role that he just received? How could he build on it when the person who assigned it to him wasn't there anymore to fill it, to reinforce it, push it into his stubborn head and doubtful heart until he would finally believe?

Yes, Dean had denied the role that Chuck had assigned to him, rejected it still under the influence of Castiel's words. But he didn't truly believe them. Not yet. Maybe one day he would have, if he had stayed alive long enough.

But now he is here and the old fear of not being good enough for a literal angel is back in full swing.

There'll be peace when you are done. Dean wants to call bullshit on the line, but then he realises that it's just his old pattern of dealing with things: assuming - not asking, pushing his feelings down - not making himself vulnerable.

"What about you, Cass? What were you dreaming of?"

He dares to look at the angel and the small smile he sees playing on his lips is so worth the swarm of butterflies that nearly make him dizzy.

"You, Sam, Eileen, Jack, and I on the beach, our feet in hot sand, the waves clashing against the shore in a neverending dance. Me putting sunscreen on your face and you complaining about it. Cold beer in a cooler, your head in my ...," he trails off.

Dean smiles. "My head in your lap, the cowboy hat on your messy hair, salt on our skin from taking a swim."

Castiel moves his head in one smooth motion and fixes his eyes on Dean's for the first time. "That would have been nice," he murmurs.

Dean nods lightly. "We could still have this," Dean whispers, "if you wanted to that is."

Castiel's face lights up and damn it, Dean is flashed by the beauty of it, pulled under in a current of light and love.

He swallows hard, not trusting his legs to carry his non-existent weight. He's still not used to being like this either, so he doesn't trust himself to not fall into the lake while trying to take this step.

So he reaches out and takes Castiel's hand instead, pulling softly until the angel understands.

Cass kneels down next to him and Dean can finally touch. All those places he wasn't allowed to. No, scratch that. That he didn’t allow himself to touch. They are there, right in front of him. So he brushes his thumb over Castiel's stubble with his free hand, runs it over his lips and the bow of his cheekbone, sighs contently when Cass leans into his hand and closes his beautiful eyes, relishing in the moment.

This. This is so much more real than anything Dean shared with anyone in the physical world. This is real. This is good. Dean Winchester is finally home.

#dean winchester #castiel #deancas #destiel #fanfiction #post canon #getting together #theirlovewasreal

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ficklepicklefandoms · 5 years

Text

in dublin’s fair city ~ t.h

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Requested: no

Word count: 2,537 (my longest one ever!)

Warnings: Binge drinking, swearing, Irish slang and pure Dublin shenanigans.

Hi guys! I’ve had this in my drafts since July which is highly criminal if you ask me! There’s a lot of things that I love about my fair city of Dublin (nickname comes from the song Molly Malone. Listen to this classic!) and I am so excited to be able to share lots of them with you through this one shot! Here comes the bad news... I have final exams in June and need to study hard to get the points I need for my university course. I’m hoping to get some things out to you guys before then but it may be Easter break before anything comes your way. Thank you for your constant support and love with my writing. Please make sure to request things in my ask box for the future! Love and hugs as always xx

My friends and I sat around a small table in The Temple Bar Pub nursing our third or fourth pint of the night. It was nearing 8 and I’d lost count of how many drinks I’d had. The Irish trad music lilting through the air and the harmonious laughter of my friends reminded me my pint was slowly emptying. It would fill up soon without a doubt on earth.

“Ah here now, would you fill your glass before you embarrass us!” My friend Faye called out to me with a large smile adorning her face.

“Well, my drink is nearly gone too so if you’re going you better fill mine too,” Jess called out to me. The rest of our large group agreed and knocked back their drinks.

“Only if you’re buying.” I hit back wittily, knocking back the remainder of the liquid and feeling the tiniest burn on my throat. I held out my hand and she placed a fifty euro note in my hand. I laughed knowing she was being scaldy and reached into my pocket to pull out another fifty euro note.

“Pints again there Y/N, you’ll need at least another two before you get a fella.” Emma laughed loudly and I rolled my blurry eyes. I scooted past Max and Sammy in our booth, collecting the empty glasses before Alannah followed me to help me carry the pints.

“John, we’re gonna need another round,” I called out to the barman. He sauntered over and took the money out of my hands. I placed the empty glasses on the bar and Alannah stood against it

“I assume yous all want the same again. Orchard Thieves or Heineken?” He asked with a chuckle, his accent thick and warm.

“What do you take us for, fecking eejits? Orchard Thieves, ya bollocks.” Alannah laughed and John moved to pull the pints.

Our group was quite large. We all kept in contact after school ended and it was rare that we were all together like old times.

John had pulled the first two pints and Alannah took them over to the table. I waited for the next two and did the same. Alannah collected her last two and I waited for my pint to be pulled. John handed me back far too much money for what we got but I accepted it, knowing it’d be a lost war.

I picked up my glass and began to head back to the table until my journey was disrupted by a body colliding into me.

“Ah swinging Jaysus watch where you’re heading!” I exclaimed as my pint went all over the floor. I silently cursed more in my mind as I was known in this pub for constantly spilling drinks. John never minded pouring me another on the house but I always felt guilty.

“I barely understood that but I sincerely apologise and I’ll buy you another pint.” A British accent spoke apologetically. I sipped what was left in the glass before meeting the eyes of the English man in front of me.

“Holy Mother of Mary I’m bloody locked if I think I’m seeing Tom Holland.” I choked as my drink got caught in my throat. Tom’s hand came in contact with my back gently as I coughed.

“You’re seeing Tom Holland love, don’t worry about being locked or whatever you called it. What’s your name?” Tom said with a slight chuckle in his voice. His hand left my back and I felt the remaining warmth

Just then, Faye came running over. She was drunk and probably thought I’d left in her state.

“Y/N, sweetheart you need to be more careful with your pi- OH MY GOOD JESUS IS THAT THE SPIDERMAN FELLA?” She shouted. Tom looked alarmed and he seemed to be looking for someone. I hit Faye a smack on the arm and she rubbed it gingerly.

“Faye head back to the table I’m getting a pint with Tom. I’ll be back in a minute.” I ushered her quickly towards the group and she began gossiping as soon as she sat down. The boys at the table bounced excitedly in their seats, wanted to meet the movie star.

“So, that pint?” Tom laughed as we walked to the bar beside each other. “What’re you drinking Y/N?”

“Thieves,” I said waving my hand to John. “It went on the floor John, you’re gonna need a mop.”

“Ah, it’s grand love don’t be worrying. The same for your fella as well?” He smirked.

“Um yeah, can we get three pints?” He asked politely as he shifted from one foot to the other. I looked at him sightly funny as he ordered the three. “Harrison should be here somewhere, MATE!” He shouted as he spotted him. Harrison walked through the crowded pub and greeted his friend. I could feel the alcohol taking effect and I could hardly believe that Tom Holland was buying me a pint.

“Who’s the girl Tom?” Harrison asked as our pints came and Tom paid.

“Y/N, Tom spilt my pint and he owes me one,” I said with a wave as I began to gulp down the cider. “My mates are at that table over there, do yous want to join us?” I asked feeling a bit confident. My mind was buzzing Tom Holland had just bought me a pint and I wasn’t going to lie to myself and say I wasn’t attracted to him. And I also quietly thought of Max and Sammy, the Marvel geeks who’d kill to chat to the web-slinging hero.

“Drinking with the prettiest girl in the pub? How could I say no?” Tom said as Harrison patted his back. I let out an embarrassed giggle and led them to the booth where my friends sat staring at us.

“Hey Y/N, the pretty girl with the short blonde hair, what’s her name?” Harrison asked as we made our way through the crowd carefully.

“Her name’s Alannah. She’s studying human nutrition in Queen’s up in Belfast. Slide in on her I doubt she’d mind,” I whispered quickly. I saw Alannah glance our way and Harrison waved softly.

“Tom and Harrison are drinking with us tonight, no objections. Tom and Harrison, the gang. Gang, Tom and Harrison. Play nice you wallys,” I said plopping down beside Tom after Harrison took a place beside Alannah, introducing himself quickly.

The group began chatting, Sammy and Max asking Tom about Spiderman and the sort. Alannah and Harrison seemed to be hitting it off quite well. Soon enough Tom and I started having a chat of our own. We talked about life, my law course at uni and his acting career. We had scooched closer together after the second pint, the cosy pub creating a homely atmosphere.

“So Y/N, where is one place I have to visit while I’m here? I know about the Guinness Storehouse and all that jazz but what’s your favourite place?” Tom asked me quietly as the group chatted around us. Without hesitation, I answered.

“The Iveagh Gardens without question. It’s so beautiful. We’re heading to a concert there tonight if you and Harrison want to tag along, Emma will get you tickets in minutes.” I said with a wave to Emma. She nodded her head and began texting on her phone. “She’s owed a favour by the lads at Aiken.” Tom smiled widely and placed his arm around my shoulders. I felt my body stiffen at his touch but I rapidly moulded into his body, enjoying the heat it provided.

“I’m sure it’s beautiful but I doubt anything I see will ever be as beautiful as you.” He whispered into my ear. My cheeks were already quite red from the pints I’d been drinking but I swear at that moment I was officially a tomato.

“Y/N, polish off your drink there it’s nearly 10. Gates are opening in fifteen minutes. It's not too far a walk but you know what we’re like.” Max spoke to me across the table. He completed his pint as the table began to finish up their drinks and grab their coats.

My pint remained virtually untouched, Tom’s stunning eyes distracting me from it. Me being myself, I couldn’t let a good and full pint go to waste so, I did what any good Irish girl would. I decided to neck it.

“Hey Y/N watch it!” Tom laughs as he watches me intently.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s done it more than once.” Jess laughed. The girls started playing a drumroll on the table as I continued to knock back my pint. Tom’s eyes glinted with something I couldn’t quite place but he clapped loudly with the others as I slammed my glass onto the mahogany table.

“Right darlings, let us head to the gardens of Iveagh to hear the kings play,” I announced as I tugged on my leather jacket and grabbed my bag.

“The Kings? Are they some cool Irish band or something?” Tom asked as our group began to leave the pub.

“No silly, I just call them that. It’s a benefit concert for the homeless and there are tons of great Irish artists playing the gig. Walking On Cars, Keywest, Inhaler, Kodaline and the greatest band to come out of Dublin City, Aslan.” I waved goodbye to the barmen and John as the warm July air greeted me.

Tom looked visibly confused as we followed the group out onto the cobbled streets of Temple Bar.

“I’ve never heard of them before. Are they any good?” He asked curiously as we began our walk to the park at the back of the group. I could see Harrison and Alannah chatted animatedly and smiled to myself. I was hoping things would go well with the pair.

“Well you see, they were huge in the eighties. My ma was a huge fan of them and ended up becoming mates with them. She and her friends used to get all-access passes to the gigs in The Towers in Ballymun and they’d have a mental time.” I finished quickly with a sigh. My cheeks burned as Tom’s gaze held mine as we trudged up Grafton Street, the sound of buskers and their music made my heart warm.

“If they’re any good I might become of groupie myself.” Tom laughed as we passed by the gates of St Stephen’s Green.

“Luas! Quick leg it!” I shouted as the tram began to move along the tracks. MY group of friends yelled loudly as they rushed to get the other side of the tracks in one piece. Seeing that Tom had no idea what I was on about, I grabbed his hand and pulled him across the tracks with me, the two of us laughing loudly as we broke our hands apart to have a spontaneous race to the top of Harcourt Street.

We finished our race out of breath with Tom winning by the skin of his teeth. I want to emphasis that strongly. Skin. Of. His. Teeth.

“Not bad at all. But please tell me we’re almost there, I could use a drink.” Tom laughed as his body heaved, begging for air to enter his lungs.

“It’s a two-minute walk but we’ll need to wait for Emma. She has the tickets and I’ll have to name drop so we can get barrier.” I breathed, placing my hands on my knees as I gasped for air with a smile.

“You are one of a kind aren’t you Y/N.” Tom grinned as I looked up at him from my defeated position.

“Mr Holland, what in the world do you mean by that?” I let out a schoolgirl’s giggle and silently kicked myself in the arse. I’d known this handsome man for no less than three hours and was slightly tipsy but that was beside the point. As I stared into his eyes, my heart began to burn with a feeling I hadn’t ever felt before.

“What I mean is, you don’t meet a girl like you ever Millenium. You’re unique and funny and seem to have the coolest life. I don’t want this night to end. Ever.” He replied. My cheeks flushed with an unknown feeling. My heart was fit to burst and I finally had the strength to straighten myself into an upright position.

“I’ll have you know that the night hasn’t even started yet. Our little group is on our tail so we’ll be in the gates where our night will begin in a matter of minutes.” I smiled. He stared back at me with a mixture of relief and happiness. “And this is completely off record, but when the night officially starts, I don’t think I’m going to want it to end either.”

He let out a breathy chuckle and took my hand in his as the group caught up to us. Alannah and Harrison were snuggled closely together thanks to Harrison’s arm perched around her shoulder. She sent a giddy smile my way and my heart exploded with pride. She had truly grown up now.

Our group seemed to be louder than the whole queue combined and it was no different when Emma flashed the tickets to gain us entry into the beautiful park. I had to become a storyteller to try and convince the lovely security man, Declan, to let us in to get barrier, but it turns out I didn’t have to.

“L/N? As in your mother is Y/M/N? Christy has you all sorted don’t worry. Take it as the babysitting money.” Declan smiled at me. I let out a laugh and thanked him graciously before he led us into the park for prime standing room.

“Whatever you need, just ask. Drinks are free. Christy’s orders. I’ll grab yous all some pints and I’ll be back in a few.” Declan smiled. We all shouted our thanks and stood to wait for the band to come on.

The 10 minutes came and went. Soon enough Aslan’s set began and I truly had an out of body experience. Tom kept his arm gripped around my waist as the set went on. I felt warmth and safety with his arm around me.

“Oh my god, this is my favourite song!” I let out a loud yell as the chords of their song Crazy World were heard out of the speakers. Tom laughed as I wiggled out of his grasp to down my pint and start dancing. Everyone in the park could feel the cosmic energy that the band emitted as they played their most famous song.

Tom joined me in my dance, spinning me around and acting the eejit as I screamed the lyrics at the top of my lungs. When we locked eyes through our hazy, adrenaline-induced vision I felt like home could be anywhere as long as I saw his eyes.

“What would you do if I kissed you right here, right now?” Tom shouted over the noise as my breath caught in my throat. My mind went completely blank as I let my ‘fuck it’ mentality kick in. I did what any good Irish girl would do. I kissed him. Pure. Bliss.

In that very minute, Dublin became even fairer. And I had never felt more alive.

#tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfeild imagine #harrison osterfeild x reader #dublin #writer #writing #imagine #imagines

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a-winchester-fairytale · 4 years

Text

Secrets and Lies

Summary: (Between S5 and S6) Dean has no idea that his brother is alive, but when his sorrow awakens a vision - you do.

Warnings: Lots of Angst, Dean feeling sad and lost, Soulless Sam

A/N: Thank you for letting me join your Lie To Me challenge @stusbunker Hope you are having a wonderful birthday!! When I read these lyrics, I immediately thought about Dean and the struggle he had with letting go of a hunter’s life with Sam to try and live a normal one. I hope I did it justice.

I believe I’ve passed the age of consciousness and righteous rage I found that just surviving was a noble fight I once believed in causes too I had my pointless point of view And life went on no matter who was wrong or right ----Billy Joel

He looked tired, sitting there with that dark haired girl and little boy. Their backs were to you, giving you the opportunity to watch him for a little while, his eyes looking down at the table in front of him. He was listening to them, glancing up to their faces from time to time, but not really seeing them either. There was something different about him – the fight gone from him somehow.

The last time you had seen him, he was fierce and the fire glowed behind his green eyes. He was fearless, determined, strong, but still kind – just like his brother. The man you saw sitting across the diner was broken, a stranger.

After a few minutes, they stood up and – after leaving some cash on the table – headed out the door. His eyes met yours as he passed by your booth, but there was no sign that you registered as someone he once knew. It was only for a brief moment anyway. They had saved you from Lucifer – the brothers – almost a year ago now. You had stayed with them for a month, until you started having nightmares about Sam and Lucifer and the answer he swore he would never give, but you knew he eventually would. It had been the reason Lucifer was interested in you in the first place, your ability to see things that hadn’t yet happened.

It was a time in your life that you could never forget, but it was only one of thousands for them. You understood that. You asked the waitress for your check and started rummaging through your purse for some cash when you were startled. Looking back up, you were once again locking eyes with Dean Winchester.

“Hey.” He said quietly, sitting down across from you. “How have you been?”

“I didn’t think you recognized me.” You said instead of answering him. He just shrugged.

“I did, I just ….don’t say much about that stuff in front of them.” He admitted, looking away. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here….now.” You answered. “You?”

“Same, I guess. I’ve been living with Lisa and Ben since….” His voice dropped off just then. “I work construction out at the yard on route 10.” He added instead of finishing his original thought.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair and along the back of his neck, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes again. “Lisa is taking Ben to some school thing tomorrow night. I get off work around 7:00. Do you want to have dinner? It would be nice to catch up.”

“Sure. I’ll meet you here?” You asked. Dean nodded, glancing up for just an instant as he stood.

“I better go.” He quietly said before walking away.

He didn’t know for sure why he did it. Maybe he just wanted to be around someone that knew him and Sam before, maybe he just didn’t want to be alone with his own thoughts with Lisa and Ben out of the house, maybe he just wanted a friend that didn’t expect anything from him.

He loved Lisa, and Ben, but he knew he wasn’t himself. Most of the time he was angry and felt like a failure. He missed his brother, and he couldn’t live with the idea that Sammy was locked up with Lucifer inside of him – stuck in some hypothetical cage in hell. Dean remembered hell all too well. He still had nightmares about it, only now it was Sam’s face he saw in the flames instead of his own.

Some days it was all he could do just to keep going. Most of the time, he could barely remember what they had done it all for. It just wasn’t the same without Sam there. Now, he knew he spent his days going through the motions, just trying to fake it enough to get by.

You went to the diner a little early the following day, feeling nervous for a reason you couldn’t put your finger on. It was busy and you distracted yourself with watching the other patrons from a small corner table you had found empty when you arrived. You smiled when you saw him walk into the diner, his face giving away his relief that you had actually come.

“How was your day?” You asked as he joined you.

“Same as always.” He answered with a shrug. “Sorry, guess that one takes a little getting used to.” He added when he realized he was being gruff.

“I can see where building houses would be mundane in comparison to what you are used to.” You tried to joke with him and he chuckled, a light airy laugh.

“That’s the understatement of the year.” He replied, the smile lingering on his lips. It was the slightest hint of the Dean you remembered you had seen since you said goodbye all those months ago.

The two of you made light chatter while you waited for your food to appear, then maintaining the conversation as you ate. Finally, Dean leaned back in the chair and studied your expression as he asked, “I’m guessing you don’t ask because you already saw it?”

“I don’t ask because, although you can tell me anything, you don’t owe me any explanations.” You replied.

“Lisa tells me the same thing, but i know she thinks it would help to talk about it.” His thoughts came flowing out without a conscious decision to speak the words. “I can’t tell her the truth though, so I just don’t say anything at all. I mean, how am I supposed to tell her that he said yes to Lucifer?”

“Not really pillow talk, is it?” You muttered, biting down on your lip as soon as you did. You glanced up at him nervously, but he didn’t get angry. Instead he laughed, effortlessly this time.

“No, it’s not.” He chuckled. It felt good, but the sound was one he barely remembered. “Did you know?” He asked after a moment of silence.

You looked away and nodded. “I knew he would say yes, but I didn’t know when or how it would end.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say yes so Michael took our half brother Adam, Lucifer was winning the battle with Sam at first, we fought and Sam was able to get control long enough to pull them both into a hole in the ground. Now they are in the cage. Apocalypse avoided.” Dean recounted, the sound of Sam’s name in his ears felt like someone punched him in the chest.

He glanced around the room before taking a flask from his jacket pocket and pouring some in the coffee he had barely touched.

“What about Castiel...and Bobby?”

“Cas went back to Heaven I guess. I haven’t seen him a while. Bobby went back to Sioux Falls. Sam made me promise to go to Lisa and try to leave that life behind, to be happy. I think they just want to give me a chance to do that.” He explained, rolling his eyes.

“But you’re not.” You volunteered for him. He smirked.

“Not really. I try to be. Sometimes I forget for a second and I am, but it doesn’t last. I care about Ben, and Lisa tries so hard.” He confided, shaking his head. “I think I could love her, but something in me just won’t let me get there….at least not yet.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours, ignoring the pang in your chest at the way he talked about Lisa. He looked up to meet your eyes, surprised at the electricity he felt from your touch.

“This isn’t your fault, you know.”

There is was, the uncanny way you had of reading all the things he never said. He knew your secret, that you got flashes of the future, but he also knew those flashes didn’t tell you what he was thinking and feeling deep down inside his heart. He still couldn’t understand how you always seemed to see all of it.

Dean didn’t say anything back. He just watched as he turned his hand so he could wrap his fingers with yours. He ran his thumb along the side of your hand gently.

“Give me your phone.” You told him after a few minutes. He blinked like you had shaken him back from a place far away.

Without questioning it, he let go of your hand to reach in his pocket and handed over his phone. You entered your phone number into his contacts and handed it back.

“Now you can call me whenever you want to. It would be nice to stay in touch with you this time.” You told him.

“Yeah, it would.” He agreed.

When it was almost time for the diner to close, you followed Dean out to the parking lot. He surprised you by walking up to an older pickup and unlocking the driver’s door.

“Don’t tell me you traded your baby for the truck.”

“Definitely not.” He scoffed, faking offense at the idea. “She’s been garaged. It just didn’t feel right, you know?”

“I understand.” you nodded. It wasn’t surprising that he would have a hard time driving that car and looking over at the empty passenger seat after everything.

“I know you do. You always have, although I still have no idea how.” He told you, twirling the keys in his hand. “I think that’s why I said all that stuff. I haven’t said it to anyone else.”

“You can always tell me anything.” You reminded him instead of telling him the reason was that you cared for him, and had since he pulled you out of the prison Lucifer was keeping you in. How could you possibly tell him that now, after everything? It didn’t seem fair. Instead, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

You felt him hug you back, holding you tighter than you expected. You closed your eyes and smiled at the warmth you felt in his arms. Although everything in his life had changed, you couldn’t stop from thinking that he still felt the exact same, still had the same smell. You inhaled softly so he wouldn’t realize that you were trying to memorize it.

The two of you said good night and you watched as he drove away. You could feel his heartache in your own. With a deep breath you turned and headed back to the apartment you were renting.

You flew up in the bed, your clothes soaked from sweat, your heart racing as you tried to catch your breath. You reached over and flipped on the nightlight, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and sipping on the water you had left sitting on the nightstand.

It had been months since you had a nightmare like that, one that you knew wasn’t just a dream but a vision. You couldn’t make sense of it. It was about Sam, but not. At least not the Sam you remembered. The Sam you remembered was kind, patient, empathetic. The one in your vision was beating a cop on the side of the road and was riding with someone other than Dean. For a moment you thought it might have been Lucifer and the thought sent shivers down your back. Then you remembered the name listed on the police car and you knew you had to find out for sure. You reached for the phone and called the airline to book a ticket to Rhode Island.

Arriving in Bristol immediately felt like a mistake. You kept thinking to yourself that if what you saw really was Lucifer, you had to question your own sanity for purposely seeking him out. You didn’t even know when that vision would actually take place. The only thing you knew was that the only person you ever harbored feelings for was lost without Sam and if you could give that back to him, you knew you had to try anything.

You finally saw him the following day, heading through town with the same man you had seen him with in your dream. You couldn’t help but notice the cut on his forehead and the slight rip in his shirt, convincing you that the assault you visioned had already happened - although neither of them seemed especially worried.

You followed them for a little while, trying to stay far enough away to avoid being noticed, but close enough to hear them planning the hunt. They turned a corner, but when you did the same, neither of them were anywhere to be found.

You turned a couple of times, cursing under your breath before heading back out toward the street. Suddenly, you felt someone grab you and shove you against the brick wall.

“Why are you tailing us?” Sam’s voice boomed, his strong hands gripping your shoulders.

“I wasn’t sure it was you at first, Sam.” You answered, nervously.

“Hey...I know you.” Sam commented, his eyes squinting as he tried to remember. He released his grip and took a step backward. “Did we….?” He asked, making a gesture that certainly didn’t leave anything to the imagination.

“What!? No…” You scoffed.

“Shame.” He replied with a suggestive glance.

“What are you doing here, Sam? And who is this guy?” You asked, gesturing to his companion standing just out of earshot. Something was definitely off about Sam, but you couldn’t quite figure out what was going on.

“Hunting. Didn’t you hear? There are people behaving like spiders here.” He answered. “And that is my grandfather.” He added matter-of-factly.

“I thought you didn’t have any family other than Dean.” You asked. Sam leaned his head back and rolled his eyes.

“Is that what this is about? Dean?” He asked you. “Look, my brother is living the all american apple pie life he was meant to live with some girl he fell in love with and her kid. No big deal, but there are still monsters to hunt, so that’s what I’m doing.”

“He thinks you’re dead!” you exclaimed, glancing around and lowering your voice before finishing “And sitting in hell with Lucifer and Michael.”

“I was….for a little while. Now I’m back.” He confirmed.

“Sam, how could you be so cavalier about this?” you asked, confused. Sam thought about it for a second. He knew he was different than before he went into the pit, but so far different for him had been better. He was stronger, faster, a better hunter. He couldn’t allow you to make him feel like it was wrong to be any of those things.

“I’m not trying to be anything, but why should I go back and pull Dean out of a life he is happy in? It’s what he wanted.”

“Because Dean’s not happy. He will never be happy thinking his brother is dead. You of all people should know that!” You argued, but Sam merely shrugged.

“I’ll think about it.” Was all he said, walking away. You stared after him, too shocked to move. You felt confident that he wasn’t Lucifer simply pretending. If he had been, there would have been fury and manipulation. This Sam wasn’t any of those things. Instead, it was like he didn’t care about anything or anyone. No real feelings, just indifference.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Dean wasn’t better off not knowing this version of his brother. .

As you pondered it all on the plane ride home, you glanced through all of the phone messages you had ignored from him while you were gone.

When you arrived back at your apartment, Dean was sitting on the porch outside. “Are you okay?” He jumped up and asked as soon as you got out of the cab.

“Dean, what are you doing here? How did you even know where I lived?”

“Trust me, you aren’t that hard to find in this town.” He teased. “Sorry to just show up like this. You didn’t answer and I guess I just started to get worried. Old habits.” He added with a grin.

“It’s ok. I..um...had some family stuff to take care of, kinda last minute.” You told him, opening the door and offering him to come inside. Dean shook his head.

“I better not.” He answered. “I should probably get back.”

“I know I told you that I was going to be here for a while, but it doesn’t look like that is going to work out.” You told him, almost as surprised at the words as he was.

You hadn’t planned to say it, but now that you had you felt like it was right. You would never be able to keep a secret like that from him, seeing him hurting every day. Besides, if Sam was right, and Lisa really was who Dean wanted, it would break your heart every single time you saw them together. Better to let him go now.

“Are you sure?” He asked and you nodded.

Dean took a few steps toward you until he was standing right in front of you. He reached out, hugging you and you felt him sigh.

“Don’t be a stranger this time, okay.” He whispered in your ear. “I’ve said good-bye to so many people, you’d think it would get easier.” He added, trying to lighten the darkness that fell between you.

Slowly he pulled away and headed back to the truck, his shoulders a little lower and his steps seemed heavier.

“Dean, your brother….” You blurted out, but stopped yourself when he turned to face you. “Your brother would want you to find a way to be happy. I really hope that you do.”

“I know. Maybe someday.” He replied, getting in the truck and driving home.

Dean pulled into the driveway and sat in the truck for a few minutes, taking a couple of drinks from the bottle in his glove box. He glanced around a couple of times, unable to shake the feeling that someone was watching. Finally he shrugged it off to hunter’s paranoia and went in to sit down to dinner.

“You okay?” Lisa asked when he seemed particularly quiet. Dean nodded.

“Yeah.” He answered, turning his attention back to Ben.

Dean took a long drink from his glass, never noticing the shadow that stood just on the edge of the light, watching through the window - trying to decide if you were right or if his brother really was better off not knowing the truth

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