#anawrites

[percywinchester27]

The new Mrs. Winchester (20)

Word count: 3.1K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Chapter warnings: Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, PTSD, angst, flesh trade, language, mention of violence and murder; reader discretion is strongly advised.

Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?

A/N: Guys, I so hope you like this chapter! It was a pleasure to write :)

Beta: My darling, @deanssweetheart23

“You are the most frustrating thing in the world,” you said to the burner phone standing silently on the tabletop. Only one person called or messaged on the phone and it had stayed quiet for a whole week. The longer it remained silent, the sadder you became. Sam’s desperation to prove his innocence must have turned into frustration and then anger. After all, he’d done everything right and had still been accused of something heinous by you. Anger would be natural. But you were scared that maybe the anger was turning into apathy now. Sam’s silence was proof.

Abby’s mother had fallen ill, and with a tight hug, she had bid you goodbye for the weekend. You felt lonelier than ever in the house. No Abby, no Jack, and no Han to wait for you at the pier when you lit a lamp. But most of all, no Sam.

The terror that had gripped you since first seeing Nick had dissipated some, but you were still afraid that he might turn up in the mansion and you would have to face him again. So, you spent most of your days in Martha’s kitchen, reading Wordsworth and his sad poetry.

However, after a week of skulking around the house like a phantom, you decided to open the forbidden connecting door to Sam’s room. Maybe seeing his pictures, trophies and books would bring some solace. The room looked as benign as the last time you had seen it, on the day before the gallery opening. The pictures were all there on Sam’s nightstand, now with a thin film of dust over them. Sam had locked the room from outside when he’d left, so no staff could get in, not a soul… except you. 

The sheets on his bed were perfectly made and you wondered if this is how he treated all the hotel rooms in the world, too, leaving them just as he had found them as if he’d never been there. But these sheets had held him close in nights, wrapping their silk around his body in a way you could only dream of. Quietly, you lifted a well-made corner and slipped underneath, hoping to envelop yourself in some trace of him. The sheets did not smell of him anymore. Despite all your efforts, the room did not seem like his at all with him gone. You remembered the line from your story of Eros and Psyche. When Psyche lost her trust in her husband, Eros, left in anger and despair… All love and beauty seemed to evaporate from the world in its entirety. 

You curled up on your side, twisting in the sheets, feeling Psyche’s frustration in every bone. Everything had been going smoothly, but you had let doubt corrupt your head and now Sam was gone. As you twisted on the bed, your hand touched something rough beneath the sheet. You sat up, discarding the sheets completely and reached out to find an envelope. You turned it around to see your name etched on top in Sam’s elegant handwriting.

You nearly tore the envelope in your hurry to get the contents out. Inside was a letter addressed to you.

Y/N,

I wanted to come clean. I wanted to tell you everything, but I’d be damned if I overstepped my boundaries and crossed the line of your consent. Not again. But if you are reading this, it means you’ve chosen to come to my room, and climbed into my bed of your own volition. It means that your consent was involved.

So, let me tell you how you ended up here in my bed, in this moment. Let me tell you everything from the very beginning.

Jo’s pie was still fresh on the table when we set out to find her, and that’s where we found it three days later when we returned. Dean took one look at it and his knees gave out. We’ve been through some tough times, Dean and I, but never had I seen him so scared in my entire life. When they found Jo’s body, Dean drove his car into a cliffside three days later. You probably don’t know this, but he loves that car and it came back wrecked, but still less wrecked than him. You told me about the days when your dad returned home between tours and he had this haunted look in his eyes, the look of witnessing death, causing it… seeing the people you love suddenly die. I might have looked that way, too.  Jo was like a sister to me growing up and she was dead, and Dean wasn’t just my brother, he was my whole world. Slowly, but surely, I was watching him waste away right in front of my eyes.

I didn’t see my mother die– another person who died because of me; died for me– but I was old enough to watch my father slowly kill himself. He’d return from these long trips and I would run to him, but he never spared me a glance. After all, I was the reason his wife wasn’t with him. He’d loved that woman more than anything in the world. I believe Dean reminded him of all the good times he’d shared with his wife, but I was a reminder of the peace he’d lost. If she hadn’t run in to save me from the fire, she’d be alive and breathing with him. No, he wasn’t outright cruel, but slowly as he drowned himself in whiskey, the whiskey truly drowned him. Dean found him like that in his study one night, without a heartbeat, but a drink still in his hand.

Dean became just like that in the months after Jo’s death, always clutching a bottle, eyes red and out of his mind. I can’t count the number of times I’d picked him up from bars with bloody knuckles and a bruised face, and I felt helpless watching my brother go the same way as my father, wishing, just wishing I could go back in time to stop Jo from leaving alone. One day my life had been good, not perfect, but good, and the next day it had been dragged to hell.

The first time I saw a light in Dean’s eyes was when the sheriff, Jody Mills, came back with some definitive proof. Before Jo, two other bodies had been recovered from Lincoln lake. And though they bore signs of more heinous abuse, the MO appeared to be the same, similar disappearances, similar disposal. There had been other disappearances as well, but no trace of the bodies and more than half of those could be traced directly to the estate. It was easy to put together the story… a human trafficking ring was active in the area. 

I saw my brother go from the edge of destruction to grasping at the threads of hope for justice. He threw himself into Jody’s investigation with this feverish energy. But no matter how hard he tried, or anybody tried, eventually, we all hit roadblocks. No one could get on top of the ring, and it got worse when Jody found out that even her superiors in the police were involved. She didn’t have any pull with federal law enforcement. Not then anyway. I was just starting to worry that I would lose my brother all over again when Jody came up with the plan… with this plan.

The plan was easy enough and by now I’m sure you know most of it, though, I didn’t think it would work. No one who has seen us growing up would believe I could throw him out, but Dean had a solution to that as well. ‘Just replace all staff’ he’d said. At first, I went along just in desperation to save Dean from the abyss he was in danger of falling into. Finding out who did this to Jo had become his life’s mission. I couldn’t take it away from him without losing him, too, but I didn’t really believe he and Jody would manage to implement it. But then there came a day when I had to make the decision, to be in or out.

I’d have died before letting Dean down, but that night he made me promise that I would go along. He had already transferred all his property and estate rights save for the shares, but that night he begged me to say yes… to do this abhorrent thing of paying money to own a human being. He justified it with fancy words… said I’d be saving a girl from life in hell, but I knew it for the depraved act it truly was. I don’t remember the things I said to my brother that night or the wreckage I left of the door and furniture, but in the end, I had to give in. How could I not? 

And so, before the day break Dean left, and the very next day, I assumed power of the board and estate. The first to go was Dean’s portrait from the gallery, and then every last item that could be associated with him was purged from this God-forsaken house. I moved in a week later and then within a month, the staff was replaced. Being cold and detached from them was hardly even work once Dean left. I was heartbroken enough to shut myself within me. But still, selfishly, I couldn’t let go of Jack and Martha, I was scared that I would be lost to even myself without them. After all, do you even exist if no one around you knows you?

So far the plan was working, but then suddenly it worked too well. The whispers that we had planted were taking root now. The word that I was looking to buy finally reached the right ears and one day, a man accosted me outside the office, offering the deal. He handed me a card with a location and asked me to be there at eleven the next morning. There, he had a photo book ready for me to pick from. Up until then, I had never hated myself more. To even look at the pictures, as if I was some kind of God to choose which one to save… which of these women was eligible to be rescued from this prison, and put into a different one. My prison wouldn’t have the torture of this one, but a place where she would be dragged to without her own free will would be a prison nonetheless.

I had to choose. One. I closed my eyes, gulped and vowing to come back for the rest after this one, I opened that photo book. And there you were on the 5th page. I stopped there and did not flip further. The man said you were not up for sale, that you were Boss’s favourite. I doubled the price, he wouldn’t agree still, I tripled the price. He made a call, and when I offered to pay five times the amount, the man on the other end of the line must have agreed because we sealed the deal. I got to keep the photo.

And Y/N, this is what I don’t get… I could have decided to keep flipping through those horrifying pictures and picked another, but once I saw you, there was no one else. Something about the look in your eyes… At least that’s what I told myself as I signed the cheque and asked to keep the picture. But the truth was, I didn’t want another man to ever look at your picture again. I’ve never looked at it again, myself. I came back and nearly burnt it, but then decided against it. You’ll find it in a brown diary on the top of the cupboard. Do what you please with it, only you should have that right.

You accused me of not looking you in the eye because I thought less of you, but how could I? After what I had done, I could barely stand to meet my own eyes in the mirror. I keep telling myself it’s the look in your eyes in the picture that made me stop, but what if I confessed that I liked the fall of your hair. In that moment I could nearly imagine the feel of your skin, your lips. How am I any better than all those men? How could I ever face you after that? How could I stand next to you on a podium and not want to die from the guilt of it all? How could I even breathe the same air? So, yes, Y/N, I didn’t meet your eyes. At the wedding, I didn’t look at you, didn’t touch your skin, because you deserved better than a depraved person like me even existing in the same room as you.

There’s one other thing I never told you. The night after the wedding, I opened the connecting door. I had to tell you the truth, fall at your feet and apologise profusely for the dastardly act, so my conscience could know some peace. The guilt of what I had done wouldn’t let me be, and when I did push that handle, I found you curled up on the floor, clutching your body. That’s when I knew that as long as I lived, I would never forgive myself for it, never hate myself more than I did in that moment. I vowed to never open the door again. Every night following that one, I would pace to the door, stand inches away, grazing the handle but never opening it. The routine reminded me of Pandora’s story. How in the end after unleashing all kinds of pain on the world, her box only held hope. Hope remained. Opening the door felt like that, it felt like giving up the little hope that someday you might forgive me.

Meeting your eyes in the dining hall that first time might be the bravest thing I’ve ever done, Y/N. It took all the courage in the world to hand you that portfolio, when I don’t even deserve to touch the sheets on which you drew. But each time you looked at me, smiled, or said yes to my beseeching efforts to take you around the property knowing you’d had several tours already, I let that hope bloom and when you agreed to be my friend, I vowed to never be untruthful to you. Ever.

So, no, I didn’t know you had already met Dean, that he was your friend. I hope you believe me.

From the very first attempt to speak with you, my only wish has been to gain your trust. Not to elicit information, but to become worthy of your faith, to be the confidant you confided in of your own free will and not out of a trick. I can see how wrong I was. I am sorry.

You’ve barged out on me twice now and locked yourself behind the door. But you shouldn’t have to put yourself in prison again and again. This letter might be a prelude to proving that Dean and I never colluded against you, but we’ve both had our interests in play. You’re the only party here that’s entirely faultless. You shall not be bound to a prison again. I will not allow it. And if the only way of setting you free from the bars of your room is for me to be out of sight, then that’s no price to pay at all. 

I won’t be back for a couple of weeks, and even when I am, I’ll make sure to be out of your way. 

I made you a promise, Y/N, that you will be safe in this house. That promise stands, even if it’s me you seek safety from. I may not be what you need. But I am still a man of my word. 

You WILL be safe.

-Sam

A drop fell on Sam’s name at the end and you hurriedly shirked the paper before any more drops ruined the letter. Rapidly, blinking at the wetness on your lashes, you rushed to Sam’s cupboard, throwing the doors open. Blindly, you patted the topmost drawer and found the leather-bound diary. The picture was wedged right in the middle. You stared at your own nearly naked form, kneeling with your knees splayed wide, torso bent forward and eyes staring into the camera. With a shock you realised, you barely recognised the face. 

The girl in the picture did not look anything like you. She had primmed eyebrows and a thin,  perfect face full of make-up. Her wide eyes held not an invitation, but almost a challenge: Come find out for yourself. 

Is that what Sam saw?

You moved to the mirror in Sam’s room to check your face, with fuller, unkempt eyebrows and hair that had long outgrown the coiffed cut. The skin didn’t have the perfect complexion but held faint splashes from where the sun had touched it. There were also the hints of wrinkles at the corner of your eyes– laugh lines.

Thinking back, everything seemed abundantly clear as to why Sam’s footsteps had always sounded so close to the door. You had assumed a cupboard or a desk there, but all those nights it was just him hovering, torn between guilt and self-hate. Why when you’d had the workers move his things to your room before the renovation, Sam had panicked about who touched his things, because he was scared of someone seeing the picture you now held in your hands.

Now that it was in your hands, you didn’t know what to do with it any more than Sam did. You should be feeling pity for that girl, chaffing her bare knees on the floor, but all you felt was a strange hatred. She was your past, but she would be your future, too. The imperfect but happy girl in the mirror would soon become a memory.

One week had passed and with one more week to go until Sam returned, you vowed to the girl in the mirror, that as long as she was your present, you would do everything in your power to keep her happy.

As far as Sam was concerned, he’d had his chance to get his truth out. It was your turn now.

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

A/N 2: I LOVED writing this chapter! The nuances of Sam's admission and the delicate nature of his emotions were just so damn satisfying to put into words! What did you think?

Oh, I can't wait to share what's coming with you!

Please do let me know what you think of this part. Reblogs and comments are what keep me going!

If you want to be tagged, you can send me an ask or you can add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

Tag list:

@cosicas-cuquis @daughterleftbehind @maliburenee @spn730015 @aeo10fan

@stoneyggirl @houseforwhores @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @linki-locks11 @cookiechipdough

@impalaimagining @gabavaldman @multifandom-slxt @chalicia @mrswhozeewhatsis

@mackiemcb @qveenmikaelson @lightchesters @deanwanddamons @mlovesstories

@sams-bubblegum-bitch @chinosherlock @hoboal87 @sandlee44 @mariaenchanted

@little-x-wolf @theanniewisegirl @supraveng @i-is-for-inspiring @fandom-princess-forevermore

@sammedeansandwhich @trexrambling @strawberryycoww @joseyrw @lacilou

@giggles1029 @perpetuallyoverwhelmed @borhapparker @wafflezo @sammysgirl

@goodbyemilkyway @winnifredburkleismyhero @impalaspixie @edwardsfangirl1712 @fandomoniumflurry

@pbandjelly @sammysgirl1997 @aloneatpeace @spnexploration @sojuxxi

@vickyfarley @esoltis280 @mayafatimakhan

[asnowingfandomofashes]

Ooooh. Holy shit, Slade just signed his misery warrant with the threat to his brother. He legit just went: what’s the worst possible way guaranteed to get Dick to cooperate.

Curious whether he means Damian because he’s Dick’s weakest spot, or Jason because Jason is easier access - especially if he’s having a thing with Rose here. Dick calculating which is more likely and going along with it while maybe Slade didn’t have any solid plans for either but just said the first thing to come to mind?

I’m always up for more tbh. And this sounds hilarious. 🤣 Super curious whether Dick gets back at Slade over it, or he ends up falling for him, or maybe both?

Okay, I’m always desperate for more Adeline. Is the 5+1 Sladick with Adeline or Dick/Adeline or all three of them? Actually I don’t think I’ve ever seen just Dick/Adeline and holy shit I think I need to see Slade dying inside watching them and realizing he’s doomed.

Ohhh that would be so good! Unfortunately it's just sladick because the ‘infro’ in "5+1 fake dating infro Adeline” is short for ‘in front of’ and it’s a crack idea that came up to me some time ago lmao

It’s a story where Adeline’s greatest joy in life is making fun of Slade and pointing out all his mistakes and what a loser he is. She’s just being the worst ex possible 😂 And at some point Slade just gets so done that when the next time Adeline tracks him down to make fun of how sad his life is now, Slade lies to her about being in a relationship. Naturally, Addie demands to know more and that’s when they see Dick. So of course Slade tells her he’s dating Dick and then proceeds to threaten/blackmail Dick into fake dating. He’s a loser in this fic and I love him lmao

It’s a little something rn and I’m not sure if I will continue writing it tbh. You can let me know what you think!

A snippet;

“I’m your boyfriend now.” He announced, putting his hand on the kid’s nape. “Play along.” Dick bristled, argument ready on his tongue as he tried to take a step back but before he managed even a word out, Slade leaned down to crash their lips together. He could feel Adeline’s gaze on his back like a physical weight and didn’t hesitate for a second before slipping his tongue between Dick’s lips. The kid grunted, hands twitching against the material of Slade’s shirt but didn’t try to push him off. Instead, he pressed himself closer and kissed back as if they were really together and haven’t seen each other for a long time. Well, Grayson always was a great actor. “What the fuck” Dick demanded breathlessly, wiping Slade’s saliva from his mouth when they finally pulled away from each other. His lips was curled into a fond smile, as if he was looking at someone he loved. “was that.” “The woman behind my back is my ex-wife.” He murmured against Dick’s jaw. Dick’s fake laughter brushed against his ear as the boy tangled his fingers into the hair at the back of Slade’s head. “You’re going to play my boyfriend whenever you see her.” Dick looked him in the eye. They were standing so close that Slade could feel his breath on his cheek. “Why would I?” He whispered, still smiling. Clearly meant as a threat. Slade cupped his jaw to place another kiss on his lips better. “So I don’t shoot your brother the next time I see him. Come on.”

Ask me about my wips!

[stvrlightt1125]

Again

And then she found herself stuck in that cycle of sorrow again,

She tried and tried and tried but she couldn’t resist doing that again,

All the heights that she thought she had concurred were nowhere to be found again,

Because she found herself lying in the ground again,

Of course she couldn’t blame anyone for anything because she was the one with fault once again,

The feeling of regret made her loose her sanity but she had to keep that inside again,

She thought everything was alright but she wasn’t right again,

And then she found herself stuck in that cycle of sorrow again.

I guess this cycle of sorrow will end her up now and there will be no again.

~ Anawrites🪐

[andylantsov]

List of AFTG Fics that I will be reading.. sometime

(Thank you for this image, pinterest)

Part 2 but this is not a proper official series

1. Different roads by frankelled

2. Lemonade by trubenblack

3. A Study In De-escalation by cleopatras

4. Go Team! by @bazookajo94

5. Out in the Black by @gluupor

6. Haloalkanes and Haloarenes chapter from ncert

7. Aidan Minyard by OddlyBookish

8. Friday Night Big Screen by @annawrites (moonix)

9. what a chatty creature by nanatsuyu

10. Neil Crashes a Dinner Party by Carryonhowell

11. Tooth and Nail by AlrightDarlin (WhoopsOK)

12. Fake It 'Till You Make It by demesh (and then more stuff from this link)

Masterlist

[momo-de-avis]

de ana para ana, onde é que les as notícias? isto é, que jornais consideras mais imparciais? (desculpa a falta de acento circunflexo, mas estou sem essa tecla)

nenhum LMAO pra ser muito sincera

normalmente comparo. Leio no publico, no DN, no JN (quando me deixam ja que ta na moda o ‘pague pra continuar a ler’) e comparo as noticias. 

em TV tendo a confiar mais na RTP só porque é do estado e deve ser a mais imparcial, mas tenho as minhas duvidas tbm pq as vezes fazem montagens duvidosas (ainda hoje apanhei uma mas agora nao me lembro de que era). sic noticias tbm costumo confiar relativamente

posso dizer que jornais/canais nao confio absolutamente nada nem q o mundo estivesse a acabar e eles estivessem a transmitir em directo: observador, CM, aquela merda do eco,sol e TVI. 

hj em dia o jornalismo é mais uma questão de seguir os nomes dos jornalistas do q propriamente os jornais. o trabalho da felícia cabrita, por exemplo, vale a pena prestar-se atenção. aquela que foi despedida do publico ai como é que se chama? Alexandra qqer coisa? A Ana Leal mantenho-me longe dela. O sexta às nove pra mim é o q faz jornalismo a sério: investiga o mais fundo possível, e quando apresenta a reportagem não é a fazer conclusões precipitadas, mas uma analise dos factos e a colocar questoes q impulsionem a q a coisa seja investigada concretamente.

[heonyz]

🍓 + we're the same age uwu

oh heck, i never updated my about!! i’m 20 now lolol~~ when is your bday?

[han-and-kai]

hey!!

hiii!

your song is!!!!

Stray Kids- School Life!

send me “hey” for a song off my playlist 

[wistfulwisp]

i would be the first person to die in case of a zombie outbreak :'( how would you do? would you survive?

aw no, i’d definitely be the first to go XD i’d like try to befriend a zombie or something claiming that they’re cute haha

[percywinchester27]

The new Mrs. Winchester (21)

Word count: 3.3K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Chapter warnings: Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, PTSD, angst, flesh trade, language, mention of violence and murder; reader discretion is strongly advised.

Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?

A/N: Look who is posting regularly now ;)

Beta: My darling, @deanssweetheart23

The new Mrs. Winchester masterlist

“Miss, you can’t keep waiting by the door for him all day!”

“Watch me,” you muttered and Abby let out a sigh. She must be convinced of your obsessive insanity by now.

“I called Jack and he called Castiel. Mr Winchester will not be back before evening. You will fall sick in this cold.”

“It’s already five… won’t be long before evening. You go on.”

Abby gave you a look that most definitely doubted your sanity but left you at the foot of the staircase where you sat with your book, feet tapping so rapidly, that the anklet Sam had gifted you started to sting.

For the umpteenth time, you wondered what the last, engraved square charm stood for.

Abby had seen you through a week's worth of anxiety but did not know the reason behind it. You knew. Sam was to return today and he had every intention of completely avoiding you and there was no way you were giving him that chance.

Since finding it, you had read Sam’s letter so many times, that the crumpled paper had lost most of its composition and now lay flat, the words already etched in your mind. At first, the pain and sadness in his words riddled you like bullets, but the more time you spent with his words, the angrier you felt about the whole situation.

How dare he apologise for saving you? Stupid, stupid man! How dare he make you fall in love with him even more? 

Admitting to the things he’d admitted to couldn’t have been easy… his childhood, how he truly thought himself to be responsible for his mother’s death and then Jo’s. How his father had treated him, and watching his brother, the only family he had known waste away right in front of his eyes just like his father.

You shuddered to yourself, thinking of your Han that way. Dean had an easy-going way about him. If bringing you into the picture had eased his anguish, how could it have been a bad thing? Sam, with his principles, couldn’t forgive himself for the act, but you, who was the one affected by it, wanted to find him and kiss his hands for signing that cheque now. He hadn’t just saved his brother, he had also saved you.

Then there were things he’d admitted to about you. 

…but what if I confessed that I liked the fall of your hair…

… I could nearly imagine the feel of your skin, your lips…

A soft shiver ran through your body at the recollection.

If Sam had stripped himself naked before you, he’d have still been less vulnerable. By admitting to the shame he felt over the simple act of choosing you, he’d bared more than you in that godforsaken picture. You understood him now… understood him to the depth of his soul. 

But you wished he understood that with all his principles, he was only a man. And he couldn’t keep punishing himself for having the reactions and instincts of one.

…How am I any better than all those men? How could I ever face you after that?

Reading those words? All you wanted to do was climb into his skin, dissolve into his being and hold him so tight, he’d never feel that shame again.

Footsteps echoed outside the door and you got to your feet, the book falling to the ground with a thump. Had you been less lost in thought, you would have realised those footsteps didn’t have the crispness of Sam’s.

“Hey, Honeybun!” Nick smirked. “Waiting for me?”

The air in your throat coagulated then disappeared to nothing seeing his face.

“You are as jawdroppingly gorgeous as ever.”

“And you are just as bastardly,” you heard yourself say. Any other day words might have evaded you, but living through Sam’s anguish over something he had no control over, made you livid at this asshole’s audacity, who hadn’t lost even a second of his sleep over destroying your life.

“Oh, she shows teeth now,” he said silkily.

“Get out of my house,” you hissed. “Get lost before I call the security.”

“And tell them what?” He challenged. “Why you’re kicking Sam’s cousin out? Mary was my mother’s sister, you know. I’m part of the Trust. Or do you not want the people in your house to know about us.”

“There’s no us.”

Nick took a few calculated steps close to you. “Come on now, Y/N. I know you love your secrets, you’ve always thrived in them. Secret siblings in a boarding school. Never thought I would become your dirty little secret, too.” He grinned and you shuddered. “What a privilege.”

He circled you slowly and you pressed into the balustrade, grabbing the handrail. 

“Poor little Sammy, does he know how you secretly met his brother at the pier in the middle of the night? That’s right, I saw little Y/N sneaking out in the dark. Do you still have Dean’s leather jacket in your drawer?”

The blood in your vein suddenly ran cold. “S- Sam knows… Dean and I are friends… He knows.”

“Tch Tch Tch,” laughed Nick, the sound grating your brain. “Sam knows his brother thinks of you as his friend. But you tell me, which respectable wife would tiptoe out of the house in the middle of the night to meet a complete stranger? Now good Ol’ Deano knew who you were, but you didn’t know who he was, did he now? So didn’t you lie to your husband about your secret rendezvous with a man?” He sighed dramatically. “What they say is true after all. Once a slut… always a slut.”

“Don’t you…”

“Dare?” He mocked, hands in air. “Does Sammy even know everything you did with me? Did to me? That you’ve gone down on your knees for me and–

The clatter of a briefcase had you jumping out of your skin.

Sam stood over the threshold, face white as a board. 

“Sammy!” Nick greeted with glee. “My man! You look ready to drop. Bad trip?”

He placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and Sam shirked it away in disdain.

“I was just telling Y/N how wonderful it is to catch up with her after all these years. Did you know we used to date in college? Well, she was in college anyway. I never had time for that shit.”

Nick turned to face you with a grin. “I was telling her how… great she still looks. Doesn’t she?”

At long last Sam’s gaze slid from Nick to you, absolute disbelief etched in his expression. 

You stared back helplessly.

When Nick turned back around, Sam had gathered his expression and settled into a perfectly blank face.

“Nick,” said Sam, voice composed. “I had a long flight back and I’m in no mood to see your face when I could have a much better view. I’d much rather be in bed, having dinner with my wife than stand around listening to you reminiscing about things that don’t matter anymore.”

“You knew?” Nick challenged, doubtful.

Sam picked up his briefcase and briskly crossed the distance, surpassing Nick. “I sure remember gagging when Y/N mentioned it in passing. I find it hard to believe she had such terrible taste.” He picked up your fallen book and handed it to you, beginning to take the steps. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to do.”

At the top step, he turned and said, “Y/N, come on up. Find Abby and get her to send the dinner up for us. I’m starving.” With that, he disappeared into the corridor.

Shock held you in place for a few moments, but eventually, you turned your back on that grinning bastard and followed Sam up the steps. The door to his room was already closed and when you tried to push it open, the door held. 

“Damn it,” you cursed, crossing to the next door and getting into your own room. Things were already as fucked as they could get and this was not how you had wanted Sam to find out about Nick.

Horrifyingly, Sam and Dean now had one-half of the story. Dean knew your boyfriend had sold you to the boss and now Sam knew Nick had been the boyfriend. Only you knew the whole truth and had known it for a while. The mole on the estate that the brothers were searching for had to be none other than Nick. After all how many such assholes could be around? And it made perfect sense now. Nick was part of the Estate Trust, someone who could have easily offered Rosalie a new job, and lured all these women associated with the estate into the flesh trade. Even Jo, who might have just stopped the car to acknowledge Dean’s cousin had paid for that mistake with her life.

The true horror of the situation was how you could tell neither brother the truth because if Dean found out that Nick was the reason his fiance was dead, he would kill Nick and the boss would know. And if Sam found out what your Ex-boyfriend had done… you still remembered the murderous rage in his eyes when he’d found out about Michael inserting hot pins in your heels. If he confronted Nick, the boss would still know. Then what would happen to Jamie and Danny? You’d never see them again.

The sheer helplessness of holding the Ace that Sam and Dean so desperately sought in your hand, and yet unable to hand it to them.

Now, Sam knew and you felt ashamed of what he must be thinking.

Rushing inside the bedroom vestibule, you pushed at the connecting door, but for the first time, found it locked… from the other side.

“Sam!” you banged on the wood. “Open the door.”

Nothing.

“Open the damn door! Let me explain.”

Oh, how the tables had turned. What a wretched feeling to be on the other side, locked out. The medicine did not taste sweet.

“Open the door,” you tried again. “P-L-E-A-S-E”

Except the last word came out as knocks and pats on the wood.

You were about to give up when the door opened and you were only a couple feet away from Sam. Being away from him for an extended amount of time always made you forget just how tall he was and right now the buttons of his shirt appeared more appealing than meeting his eyes. 

“What?” Sam asked, point blank, his voice without inflection.

All you wanted to do was close the little distance and hug him, but the two steps in between felt like miles.

“Won’t you invite me in?”

A second passed, and then Sam moved aside. “It’s your house as much as mine. You’re welcome to any part of it.”

Tears pricked your eyes. Sam’s words and tone were polite, but each detached syllable stung like a pin in your heel.

“So this is how it’s going to be?” You remained resolutely at the threshold. 

“How?” 

Something about Sam’s quiet rage rankled you from the inside. Despite his absence, you felt like you had uncovered more of Sam from Dean’s words and then his letter. Sam had always seemed like an ocean on the verge of breaking into a cyclone, that something always simmered under it, barely restrained, but dangerous all the same. Seeing him now, face cast out of stone, you finally understood how he could have fooled all the staff into thinking of him as a cold man. The truth was that whatever darkness he restrained within him, whether it was anger, fear or hatred, all of that was at its thinnest now. If you pushed, that unhinged darkness, for better or for worse, would come unleashed.

You decided to push it.

Crossing into the room you walked past Sam and took a seat at the edge of the bed. He stared at you. Sam had gone from bad to worse… his skin was shallow and his eyes sunken, looking nearly black in their intensity.

“What do you want, Y/N?”He asked once more, not moving an inch.

“I want to talk.”

“Yeah?” He walked to the bed, towering over you. “Now you want to talk?”

You ignored the question and countered with your own.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

“How much, Sam?”

“Nick’s your college boyfriend.” He took a deep breath and let it out. Calming the sea, keeping the cyclone at bay. “It’s alright. You don’t owe me answers.”

But you weren’t having any of it. “Yeah, he’s the one I told you about on our walk into the forest. My boyfriend from back home. We used to go on long rides on his Harley, cruising through the streets of California on hot nights. He was shacking up in a friend’s place in LA and he’d take me there on Friday evenings all the way to Sunday morning. Just the two of us–”

“That’s.. That’s enough. I don’t want to hear it.” His fists were clenched, tendons standing out white against his skin.

“Why?” You shouted, getting to your feet. “You’re my friend and you told me I can share anything with you. So why not?”

He twisted his body and grasped your shoulder with both his hands, fingers digging into your skin. “You know why!” His sunken eyes were watery, the white tinged with red. “You know why, Y/N. Don’t do this to me, don’t break me like this.”

You finally closed the distance, snaking your arms around his thin waist. “He is nothing but a person from my past. Nothing. Do you understand?”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? You locked yourself for days when you saw him at the inauguration. It’s been a month since and you never said a word.”

Stepping back, you looked up at Sam and admitted part of the truth. “I was ashamed. Seeing him reminded me of my past in the most jarring way, and you’ve been so kind to me, I suppose I needed time to wrap my head around it all.”

Sam peered into your face, scrutinising.

“Believe me, please.”

He deflated just a little, then nodded.

“But him? Really?” His incredulity nearly broke you, but you held your own. “Of all people, Nick?”

Oh, if only Sam knew.

“I was naive and daddy issues are a thing.” You shrugged. “C’mon, let's go to our room. All your clothes are there and you need a shower.”

Taking his hand in yours, you led Sam back over the threshold into your bedroom and closed the connecting door behind you. 

He took the room in for a minute then dragged his feet to the walk-in-wardrobe. “I’m not hungry,” he said passing you. “Just call for some coffee.”

You still had Abby bring in some fruits along with the coffee. She sat by you, nibbling on a piece of apple as Sam finished in the shower, then waited long enough to wish Sam a good night when he returned. Sam had stepped out in a thin wet tshirt, hair dripping water into the neckline, and a towel wrapped around his waist. The way Abby averted her gaze, face flaming, gave you an idea.

She left quickly after and you watched Sam put on his drawstring pants and then remove the towel from around his waist. He got on his side of the bed, pulled the covers over his legs and reached for the cup of coffee.

“How do you expect to sleep if you drink coffee right before?” You asked, but then couldn’t help adding. “Not that the thing in the cup is remotely close to coffee. Stop doing business in Bali if this is what they give you in return.”

Sam rolled his eyes while taking a sip. “Enough with the coffee already.”

“It’s such a shame that you came out of the bathroom wearing the t-shirt today. Remember that time you came out with just the towel wrapped around your waist? Short towel, too.”

He drained his cup, put it back on the side table and faced you, brow furrowed. “When?”

“Last time you were here. Great abs. Guess all that working out helps, huh?” You put your fingers on his arm. “And that time we were all wet in the shed? I slipped and fell on you, I could feel the bulk of your muscles. Made my throat go dry.”

Sam gulped. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Very slowly, holding his gaze, you moved to straddle his hips and Sam flattened himself against the headboard, a deer caught in headlight. 

“The first time I saw you, Sam Winchester, even through the veil, I knew you were an attractive man and I can’t count the number of times I have found myself staring at your body— the shoulders, the chest, arms, all of it. If you want me to go into details about what seeing you shirtless does to me, you are welcome to be my guest, but the point is, I don’t feel ashamed about it. I don’t feel ashamed about a natural reaction.”

“You read the letter…”

Raising your hand, you gently skimmed the side of his face with the back of it and he closed his eyes at the touch. 

“I did, and now you know how I feel. What are you going to do now?”

“It’s different,” he said finally. “You didn’t pay money–”

“You said yourself that you paid the price for my freedom, for a chance to know the truth about Jo and not for my body.”

“You don’t understand–”

“Don’t complicate emotions to the point of no return, Sam. I’ve wanted to kiss you, and I took both of those chances.” You leaned it, face inches away from his now, lips only a whisper away from his. “But you didn’t answer my question. What are you going to do now?”

He opened his eyes, and they smouldered. Sam’s fingers found your hair and fisted in them. He crushed his lips to yours, devouring your mouth. His other hand slid from the base of your throat, down your body, decidedly feeling the shape of you. You followed his lead, rejoicing in it… in the following. His self-control had cracked at last and he was finally staking the claim, he should have staked a long time ago… making the first move, claiming what was his… you.

Maybe it was seeing you with Nick, knowing about your past, or hearing your admission, that had caused the careful wall of self-control that Sam always held around you to crumble. Some of that self-control must have survived because he broke off, breathing hard. 

“I’m not going to apologise,” he said.

“You better not.”

Sam smiled, skin stretching over his cheekbones, but it still lit his eyes. “Yes, Ma’am.”

When he slid into the bed, he grabbed your hand and pulled you against his side instead of restricting himself to his end of the bed. “Sleep, Y/N. We have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Humour me,” he said. “I have the day planned.”

“Okay,” you agreed readily, then wound your hand around his waist, snuggling as close as you could. Between the two of you much had been said, and even more implied, yet a lot was yet to to be put into words. But Sam was here now and you had all of tomorrow. Right now you simply wanted to savour the feeling of holding the man you loved in your arms and being held by him.

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

A/N 2: I LOVED writing this chapter! The nuances of Sam’s admission and the delicate nature of his emotions were just so damn satisfying to put into words! What did you think?

Oh, I can’t wait to share what’s coming with you!

Please do let me know what you think of this part. Reblogs and comments are what keep me going!

If you want to be tagged, you can send me an ask or you can add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

Taglist:

@cosicas-cuquis  @daughterleftbehind  @maliburenee  @spn730015  @aeo10fan

@stoneyggirl2  @houseforwhores  @like-a-bag-of-potatoes  @linki-locks11  @cookiechipdough

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[anawrites3]

I always get the urge to change my user name every few months so I thought that if I'll change it to anawrites this time it'll be me, what i'm doing and it'll be fitting to any hyperfixation I will have

And yeah, it is but lately it started to annoy me for some reason and i kinda wanna change it again hfjshdjshjdak Everyone have so cool user names and i'm just "ana" :((

[momo-de-avis]

🐉

What’s your favourite mythical/extinct creature? I have a fascination for Lamia, always had (ever since I got this books with an amazing illustration I just got hooked, and she fascinates me) and selkies in particular!

[tuxedosaiyan]

34 and 63

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

OOooh I rarely remember my dreams. When I do it’s like during the morning and then I forget them almost completely. The last dream I remember was.. I think it was an alien invasion, and I was pretty stressed out. I remember trying to travel the country looking for something but I don’t remember what. Yeah, my dreams are always big hollywood productions. 

63: Would you change your name?

Nah, I don’t mind it at all! Also, I have the best last name ever!

[heonyz]

hi!! ⚜️

hey!!! how are you?

⚜️ dream collaboration

wow this is.. a loaded question. ive always wanted rapper jihoon to make a comeback. but like... idk who with

i think it would be really cool to have an 00 line collab like sanha from astro, hyunjin, felix, and han from stray kids, and renjun, haechan, jeno, and jaemin from nct dream. 

aaaaah thats already a lot of kids..... ok how about just my biases aka sanha, renjun, hyunjin, and han. but then felix would feel left out.... HECK MY FEELINGS

you know another collab i really want to see, knowing they’re friends, is a eunwoo/mingyu, moonbin/seungkwan something!!

send me kpop asks!

[prettykwan]

Hogwarts House!

I was tagged by @anawrites-sometimes to find out my Hogwarts house, and let’s just say... 

I'm not surprised by the results! I'm tagging @ding-ddaeng @leeknewit @seasawsignandtears @annie30928 

[era-eu]

@boockaroo @momo-de-avis @oriicrow @anawrites-sometimes @natsukahchie @junhee

Hug Tag Game!!!

I got a hug from @starstruckchoi135 thank you!!! I give a hug back to you!!!

Basically this is a Tumblr hug and you have to tag 10 people and no breaking the chain!!!

@fantasyimmortal @joz-stankovich @edgelord-saeran @3r1n4u2nv @ayane-223 @jylcie @justjen523 @juminsmcmysticmessenger @mrsjihyunkim and @choi-twins-wifey

There you go have a Tumblr hug!!! :)

Thank you again @starstruckchoi135!!! :D

[percywinchester27]

The new Mrs. Winchester (22)

Word count: 3.3K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Chapter warnings: Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, PTSD, angst, flesh trade, language, mention of violence and murder; reader discretion is strongly advised. This chapter has fluff and feels though ;)

Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?

A/N: Slightly delayed, but hope you find the chapter worth it ;)

Beta: My darling, @deanssweetheart23

The new Mrs. Winchester masterlist

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked for the fifth time, but with a smile on her face, as if she knew she wouldn’t get an answer

And she wouldn’t.

Sam simply smirked and pressed on the pedal, hitting the gas. The Impala purred underneath him, and Y/N sighed contentedly beside him.

“This is a sweet fucking ride,” she said.

“That it is,” Sam agreed. “But don’t get used to it. Dean usually doesn’t let his Baby out of sight.”

“So how come we’re riding in it now?”

Sam could have pointed out the obvious– that Dean adored her, that he wanted his Chewie to meet his Baby– but instead, he found himself saying, “Dean’s travelling to a different state. Hates flying, but it’s better this way. I bet he’s sleeping uneasily somewhere knowing I’m behind the wheel.”

Y/N leaned against the side. “You were right, he is a brave man.”

“Mhmm…” Sam voiced a curiosity that he had kept to himself for a while. “How did you even become friends with him?”

She bit her bottom lip, softly, guiltily. Sam had to kill the urge to reach out and bite it himself. Y/N must know she was gorgeous, and she most certainly knew now that Sam was attracted to her… but if only she guessed that a simple smile from her could derange Sam. That he had writhed in hotel beds for hours over how she looked in that one violet, fitted gown. 

He’d kissed her, more than once now, but each time he so much as remembered her taste, he lost the ability to think. 

“I… I sneaked out of the house one night,” she admitted. “I saw our picture in the papers and… I wanted to get out. He found me in the forest. We’ve been friends since. I light a lantern and put it on the sill. He says he can see it from the cabin he’d lodged in.”

“The one up the stream?” Sam remembered going there once or twice when Dean taught him fishing. The place was broken, damp and plain uninhabitable. 

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. Y/N wore the same three blouses in rotation. Sam remembered this one from their evening in the old horse shed, when he’d first felt her body against his. Her eyes dipped down to her entwined fingers. “You aren’t mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Why?”

“I sneaked out to meet a man in the middle of the night? Like some Harlot?”

Sam had to laugh at that, and then some more. 

“You’re laughing!” But some of the guilt had left her face.

“Of course I am!” He eased on the pedal. “It’s not infidelity if you’re not in a relationship. And in any case, if you ran out, that would be on me… because I had done something to upset you. Now, if you had run into someone else, that would’ve been a problem. Can’t trust anyone around here.”

“I wouldn’t have made friends with anyone else,” she muttered, eyes narrowed.

Sam laughed once more.

“What now?” She was biting her lip again, amused. Sam looked away.

“You called yourself a harlot,” he said, a smile cracking. “You weren’t even a harlot for me when you were supposed to be.” Oh, Sam remembered very clearly how she always held her own, wielding her dignity like a blade but also donning it like an armour. She’d never given Sam leeway with how he treated her.

Y/N got a speculative look in her eyes, and Sam realised he really should be paying more attention to the road, but then she said, “I kissed you first.”

Sam slammed the breaks, and the car cruised to the shoulder of the road. He took his time, turning the engine off and then turned to look at her. “I have wanted to kiss you from the second I saw that picture… before you even knew I existed. And I’ve wanted to do a lot more things to you than just kiss you.”

It felt great to finally admit it… to her, to himself and to the universe. The words had been cutting his throat, leaving him bleeding on the inside. But after saying them out loud, it barely made any sense to keep his hands to himself and so Sam touched her… he touched her face, her lips, fingers trailing down to her shoulders over the thin white fabric and further down to her waist, then slipping under the fabric to feel her smooth skin. His other hand still held her face, and he gently bit on her lower lip. She wanted this, she wanted him… why on earth would he not do what he wanted?

Y/N kissed him back furiously, bracing herself against the Impala’s door to hold on to him, taste him like she would never get to kiss him again. 

“Remind me why we are parked along a road in the middle of nowhere when we could be in bed right now?” She whispered throatily against his cheek, catching her breath, and Sam was reminded of the reason with an excitement in his gut. 

He pulled back reluctantly, but grinning all the same. “Because I’ve got something better.”

As Sam pulled the car back on the road, he almost missed her sigh and murmured ‘doubtful’, but then again he didn’t and it made all the difference. But Sam knew that she was to be proven wrong, and in less than half an hour, the Impala cruised through the open gates of Hill-Mount Academy. 

Sam ushered her into the waiting area, a sheltered, three-sided courtyard opening to the grounds. She followed, both confused and reluctant. Sam understood her predicament very well– wanting something desperately versus being scared of the bone-crushing disappointment. A few minutes later, when he came back to her with two kids by his side, he watched her slide down from the stone bench of the courtyard onto her knees and simply gape as tears followed unbounded down her cheeks.

James and Daniella– the kids were nothing like he had seen before. People had called what he Dean had hopelessly codependent. Sam believed it to be something similar for these two. He knew Y/N thought all his trips, especially the last one, was to get away from her… either because he wanted to be away, or he believed her to be angry with him. But in all honesty, Sam would have trashed the business to remain by her door and beg for her to listen to him, to give him a chance to explain. However, Sam knew that more than forgiving him, what Y/N needed were these kids. He could bear her anger as long as he knew he was striving for what she needed more than anything in the world. Because then he would get something better than her forgiveness. He would get her happiness.

Ironically, the kids had been stashed in a boarding school in Colorado of all places– the place where Sam had supposedly met Y/N in all their fake meet-cute stories. Sam had used his best resources to track the admission of two kids in the same week as Y/N’s kidnapping in the snowy states. The uniform from the picture Y/N had and the fact that the kids' admission was under their birth names helped a ton. It took less than a month for the kids to be found, after three false alarms for which he had flown to three different states. Sam had arrived at the academy dejected and hopeless, expecting to be disappointed yet again, but there they were– Y/N’s Jamie and Danny. 

The little girl looked like Y/N when she frowned, and the boy definitely had her stubborn glare. Sam had knelt before the boy and offered his hand, introducing himself as Y/N’s friend, and James hadn't taken it, wrapping his arm around his sister and pushing her behind him. 

“I don’t trust you,” he’d said. “Y/N’s dead, isn’t she?”

Sam had felt the earth slip underneath his feet at the words, the vision of Y/N floating in the Lincoln lake from Ellen’s curse coming to his mind.

“Y/N’s alright…” he had managed.

“Then why didn’t she come to see us? We know our sister… she had promised to never leave us. Either she’s dead, or she’s abandoned us.”

It had taken some effort to make the boy understand that his sister had been in trouble… terrible trouble, and if she could have, she would’ve come to see them, that she’s been searching for them all along, which was why she had sent him to find them. 

When James still hadn’t looked convinced, Sam pulled out his phone to show them his picture with Y/N from one of the functions. The boy’s eyes softened. 

Sam hadn’t let the kids out of his sight after that, driving all the way back with them and admitting them to a school that was less than an hour’s drive from the Winchester Estate. He’d admitted them under false names here and installed private security to make sure they were safe and untouchable. Somewhere along the day-long ride, he had grown surprisingly attached to the kids. Danielle spoke very little, choosing to tag along with her brother, but when he was taking a shower in the motel room, she had quietly tugged at Sam’s sleeves and asked to see Y/N’s picture again, caressing the screen with her little fingers until her eyes filled up. 

Afterward, James came up to him and asked for the truth upfront. One day, those kids would grow up and understand what their sister had done for them, but it wasn’t up to Sam. Neither was it up to him to reveal any ounce of truth now… that right remained with Y/N. He had told the boy with utmost honesty the only thing that mattered: “I need you to know that your sister loves you more than anything in the world.”

While taking their leave with a promise of coming back with Y/N, Danielle had let go of her brother’s hand and softly kissed the side of Sam’s face, and James had offered his hand with a sincere ‘Thank you.’

Sam– with wet eyes– had understood at last why Y/N had ruined her life to protect them.

Now, he watched as Danny let out a cry and rushed to throw her little arms around Y/N, who completely broke down, but James held back, blinking rapidly. He chanced a look at Sam, and Sam nodded encouragingly. “Go on.”

Slowly, he made his way to his sisters, and Y/N opened her arm to make way for him. He didn’t immediately go.

“Where were you for two years?” James asked, violently rubbing her eyes. “We wrote to you. We called and you never answered. Where the hell were you?”

“In misery,” she said, hand still outstretched, beckoning. “I was locked far, far away and forced to remain there. I would have died there if I hadn’t held on to the hope of seeing you two again. Don’t you believe me?”

James nodded and went into her arms, beginning to cry. “I believe you, Y/N. I believe you. Please don’t leave us again. Please.”

“Never.”

Sam watched from a distance as she sobbed and realised his own cheeks were wet. A sudden coughing fit overtook him, and he reached for the kerchief in his pocket, coughing into it. When Sam removed it, it came back with specs of red.

“Sam?” Y/N had straightened up. The kids were looking at him, too. “Everything alright?”

He hurriedly put the kercheif in his pocket, wiping his mouth. “Yeah. Just caught a viral during the travel.”

Y/N walked over to him and gently placed her head against his shoulder. “Thank you… Thank you for doing this. How am I ever going to repay you?”

“There’s nothing to repay,” he said earnestly. He’d give up everything he owned to see the smile on her face that he was seeing now. 

*****

You leaned against the thick bark of the tree watching Sam play football with Jamie. The kid was good, but Sam had the advantage of his height, and he wasn’t bad either. You watched as he cut your brother no slack and with a grunt James ran to the end of the field to get the ball. Sam called out and James, grinning, kicked the ball high enough for it to soar over Sam’s head in the opposite direction. Danny giggled.

“He has pretty eyes,” she said

“That he does.”

“And he’s so tall.”

“That he is.”

Sam and James raced back to you, and in the last second, Sam slowed so James could run straight into your arms. He rolled over and lay flat on his back, sweaty head in your lap. “I won!”

“You did, buddy,” Sam said, gracefully dropping to the ground next to you. 

After the reunion in the Academy courtyard, Sam took the three of you out for brunch at a small diner. You watched with hungry eyes, living your dream of seeing your family again as they dug into the cheeseburgers. Sam knew their orders, what kind of soda they liked and their habits. He sheepishly admitted to living with them for the few days it took to move them across states. 

“Couldn’t risk letting them out of my sight.”

The kids, too, trusted him blindly. Danny, you could still understand, but Jamie was as sceptical as they came. It had taken him a while to warm up to you, too. But here he was already inventing secret handshakes with Sam while Danny unabashedly wiped her smoothie-covered face against Sam’s shirt-sleeve. Every second seeing them, you couldn’t help but want to start crying happy tears. 

Later, back in the Academy campus, Sam had suggested playing football, and James– with a wild excitement in his eyes– had followed. As he rolled around in the grass, head still in your lap, you watched Danny pluck the daisies from the grass and skip over to Sam.

“You have such pretty hair!” She exclaimed. “Mind if I put flowers in them?”

Sam grinned. “Not at all, Sweetheart. Do as you wish.”

You must have had a dopey expression because James cleared his throat loudly. He sat up with a cocky smile and you suddenly remembered how annoying he could be when he wanted to.

“Sam and Y/N sitting in a tree…” he whistled the rest so quietly, you had the urge to smack his head. Sam and Danny were busy doing their own thing, trying to fix the problem of Sam’s hair being too silky to hold the flowers, to notice you and Jamie.

“Where’d you find this guy?”

“In a chapel. What did he tell you?”

James gave a side eye to Sam, who was now trying to weave the flowers into Danny’s hair instead. “That he’s your friend.”

You contemplated for a bit, then decided to come out with the truth. “He’s my friend, yes, but he’s also my husband.”

James’ jaw dropped. “You got married?”

“It’s a long story.”

At nine, you weren’t sure just how much James could handle, but he sure as hell could understand a lot. The kid had lived a tough life, but right now, you didn’t want to disturb his peace of mind by revealing too much.

“We had to get married to get me out of a situation, but he’s a true friend now.”

“He treat you okay?”

The question would have sounded absurd coming from any other kid but this one. You answered all the same. “He treats me… better than I’ve ever been treated.” 

James nodded as if he understood. “He’s cool.”

Later, at the Impala, you hugged them both goodbye, promising to see them next weekend. 

“Next weekend is too far away!” Danny whined

Sam knelt to her level and stage whispered, “I’ll see if I can whisk her here sooner than that, yeah?”

She giggled, jumping to hug his neck. “You’re the best, Sam!” He laughed gently, kissing the top of her hair. She reached out and plucked flowers from her hair, then handed them to Sam.

“For me?” He asked, surprised, and she nodded, smiling shyly. He tucked them very carefully into his jacket’s pocket.

Then, James went through the whole ritual of their secret handshake. “See you soon, man!”

Leaving them there and taking each step away from them felt like being torn away from half of your body. In a daze, you got back into the car and were still in it when the car eased onto the dirt road leading home from the Academy.

“You know this is temporary, right?” Sam said, jerking you out of your reverie. Scared, before you could ask him what he meant, Sam added. “We’ll bring them home with us when all of this is over. You can keep them with you now.”

“Keep them… with me…” His words wouldn’t sink in… wouldn’t breach your comprehension. Then there was the fact of how casually he’d said them.

“Of course. Once we’re in the clear, what’s stopping you from keeping them with you?”

When you wouldn’t say anything, he chanced a look, and then the car came to a slow halt at the side of the road.

“What’s wrong?”

How were you to tell him the magnanimity of what he had done for you? Three orphans who hadn’t known a home in years, dirt poor, living on scraps of money that barely kept a roof over their heads in schools and colleges. A long-forgotten dream, when you would be an architect in Chicago and the kids living with you, going to fancy private school teased the edges of your memory. A dream you had been living for… a dream that had been strangled so cruelly, so horrendously that even bringing it to the forefront of your thoughts hurt like a slap.

Sam’s palm came up to cradle your face. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

Oh, where would you begin? That word… “Darling.” When he said it, in that voice of his, softer than a feather, it felt like a salve on the wounds and lashes left on your soul. 

“I don’t know what to think anymore… I don’t know what to feel, how to feel,” you blubbered.

“You can think whatever you want, feel whatever you want,” he said, softly. “Don’t you see? You’re free now.”

Free. The kids were safe. You were free.

Later, you didn’t remember much except the feel of Sam’s hand running up and down your back. You must have sobbed for hours in that car. Somehow, much later, you woke up with a start and found yourself in bed, still dressed in the white blouse and slacks from the day. You must have fallen asleep on the drive back. Had Sam carried you back upstairs? Right then, you were nestled in his embrace, and he was fast asleep over you, forehead smooth, without a frown line. A love so strong permeated through your body that you understood why Psyche had walked into hell and back to be with her Eros. What would have been the point of surviving without him?

Sam had given you many things– comfort, safety and now your family. But he was right; none of them would last without the freedom he had afforded you today.

Freedom to be.

Freedom to dream.

But most of all, the freedom to love him.

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

A/N 2: We are slowly but surely heading towards the end. I guess less than 10 chapters are remaining now. How are you liking the story?

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