#OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!ok. omc (old married couple) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blushingjared · 5 years

Text

Fake It Till You Make It

Fake It Till You Make It (Dean x Reader)

Square(s) Filled: Case Fic for @spnkinkbingo and Case Fic for @spndeanbingo Ship: Dean x Reader Character: Dean, Reader, OMC, Sam, Reader’s Parents (briefly) Rating: Mature Warnings: Kidnapping, Canon typical violence, implied smut at the end, Major Injury to the Reader, Death of Parents Word Count: 3.9K Beta’d by: @focusonspn and @moonlitskinwalker

We Get What We Deserve Masterlist

Summary: When Dean shows up to get information on a case, things start to get further out of control for your perfect world.

A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged in my SPN Kink Bingo Series

Work today had been hell. Nothing you baked was coming out right. Even when you followed every recipe to the exact detail, it seemed that today was not your day. In fact, the whole weekend had been particularly bad. You pushed a stray hair out of your face and did your best to stock up the front of the bakery with the best looking items from your stockpile of goods.

Your parents had cut back your hours once again, worried that your time at the shop were cutting into your studies. There had been multiple occasions where you had attempted to tell your parents that your classes weren’t the least bit strenuous. The shop needed as much help as possible. It seemed a bit ridiculous but your parents only wanted the best for you.

While most 19 year olds wanted to move out of their parents house the first chance they got, you stuck around. The small town you grew up in for your entire life was home; it felt wrong to leave. So you took a couple community classes and worked in your parents bakery. Most people wouldn’t have felt fulfilled, but you did.

To top it all off, your boyfriend had called you to cancel your date that you’d been planning all week for. An amazing romantic dinner at both of your favorite restaurant. Matthew had apologized profusely and promised that tomorrow he would be free. Tonight he was just busy at the office.

You were sure that, someday when you were both secure, you and Matt would get married, settle down and have a couple of kids when the both of you were more secure and then have a couple kids. Nothing was wrong with never wanting to leave the place you called home. You knew almost everyone's name.

You had no wishes to live an extraordinary life.

The bell rang above the door, where your Family’s name was written beautifully, singling that someone had come into your store and it pulled you out of your thoughts. A plastic smile graced your lips as you lifted yourself up and faced the customer. Your hands instinctively dropped down to your apron to brush some of the flour off. Something irritated your face and it felt a bit like flour or icing, but you ignored it. Although, nothing could have prepared you for the man that was about to enter your shop.

“Hi Miss sorry to bother you.” The man had a gorgeous smile that he eagerly flashed to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Are the owners around? I’ve got a few questions for them.” He reached into the interior pocket of his trench coat, presenting his FBI Badge.

Words escaped you for the longest time, instead, trying to comprehend what a beautiful man like him was doing as an FBI agent. Surely, he could have been a model or some kind of actor. His bright green eyes shone beautifully in the evening sun, the freckles becoming prominent on his golden skin. Your inner thoughts were becoming something from a cheesy romance novel, but this “Dean”, as his badge listed, looked like a man fresh off the cover of one.

After no response from you, Dean cleared his throat to try and get your attention once more. “Miss? Are you ok?” He tilted his head in worry and the repeated question got to you.

“Oh, um, yes. I’m fine, thank you. Sorry.” You returned his gentle smile and decided to step out from behind the counter. You pulled the dirty apron off of your body and set it against the top of the counter. “The owners aren’t here right now. They’re at home. I can give you their phone number though.” God, you felt so ashamed for objectifying the poor man.

Dean tilted that pretty head of his in confusion. “They let a teenager run the store?”

While technically true, the statement still irked you. Being young doesn’t equal being childish. Your head cocked to the side as your hand went to your hip. “I’m 19, sir. Twenty in a couple months. I am an adult.”

Dean rolled his eyes at your statement and you inwardly regretted it realising it sounded like something an angry teen would say. It was too late to take it back now.

“Good on you, kid, but I still need to talk to them. You don't have a home address at all?” Dean slipped his hands into his pockets as he tried his best not to sound annoyed. Information was still needed from you, but kids tended to prey on anything showing weakness. Like exhaustion.

“Yeah. I’m heading there in an hour to bring the cash to them. Do you think you could wait that long?” Giving the address would have been easy, but you were getting him back for calling you a kid.

“Fuck me.” Dean sighed, more to himself than to you, and tipped his head back before taking a deep breath. “Can’t you just write it down or something? I don’t have time to wait.”

“I don’t know you. You could be a murderer for all I know.” It was a joke in all honesty, but it must have touched on something personal because he turned his head to you, his forehead creased in confusion before you clarified. “I just mean, I’d rather play it safe and go with you ok? I’m headed up there anyways.”

“Yeah, fine.” Something beeped, prompting Dean to pull his phone from his pocket. “I’ll be back, ok?” He asked even though he didn’t stay for your answer as he walked out of the shop.

“Okay..” You wondered if some of your food would cheer him up, make him less grumpy. He was cute when he was grumpy though.

Clicking the green answer button on his phone, Dean lifted the thing up to his ear. The voice of his younger brother came through. “What’s going on Sammy?” Dean’s frown stayed plastered on his face. When he thought you’d turned away, he turned himself and looked back inside to watch you work for a moment. “Are we digging any info up on this Matt, guy?”

Sam clenched his jaw before huffing out, “We are not doing any digging. I’m the one going to find the insane witch. All you have to do is find his girlfriend.” Dean shrugged.

“If it’s any consolation, this kid at the shop her parents own is giving me a hard time. She’d only take me to Y/N’s parents if she went with me. Said I could be a murderer.” Dean paused as he scratched his head. “What does she know anyways?”

Something tapped against the glass and it caught Dean off guard just as Sam was saying something. Dean dropped his phone in surprise and turned around, pleasantly surprised to find you standing in front of the large glass window with a slice of pie on a plate.

You smiled, pointing down to it and then to Dean. “Damn,” he groaned as he looked from it and then back to you. He held up a single finger to indicate he needed a minute. If it wasn’t for Sam’s currently annoying voice calling out through the speaker, he’d have gone inside.

“Damn it Dean, just hang up if you’re gonna ignore me. God..” Before Dean could get a word out, the call ended just as Dean picked the phone up from the sidewalk. He groaned, promising to call Sam back later and decided to go in and get the pie he’d been promised.

You sat across from the slice at one of the small tables off to the sides. Dean liked how the bakery looked like one from the fifties. Something you’d only see in Hallmark movies and Disney parks. “I wanted to apologize for calling you a murderer. I shouldn’t have.” A small blush formed on your cheeks as you ducked your head.

It reminded Dean of a toddler that stole a cookie from the jar but couldn’t lie about it when asked what they’d done. An astounding amount of innocence radiated off of you and it made Dean feel guilty for checking you out. Well, almost guilty.

“Don’t worry kid. You’re right to not trust strangers anyways.” Taking the fork from the table, Dean started to dig in to what looked like cherry pie. It was pretty fucking good. Not the best, but up there. You liked the way he smiled as he ate your pie, even if today hadn’t been your best baking day. At least he enjoyed it.

“So, what’s an FBI agent doing here? Some super secret spy mission?” Both elbows rested on the table, your chin resting in the palms of your hands. “I can’t remember the last time we’ve had a death in the town that wasn’t from natural causes. I can’t imagine what you’d be looking for.”

Dean stayed suspiciously quiet as he chewed on the dessert, only shrugging at your question. “Can’t talk about it, sorry sweetheart.” He hadn’t bothered to swallow his food and so his teeth were coated in cherry pie filling. It looked ridiculous on him, only adding to the growing pile of reasons you couldn’t believe that he was an FBI agent.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a good ten minutes before a couple in their mid-thirties walked in. You left Dean alone to go serve them the last slices of cheesecake and make a fresh pot of coffee. Patrons would come in and out, never more than a couple at a time though and once the clock struck 10 pm you turned the sign to closed and started the routine on locking up. You checked the back and locked up, cleaned a few counters and then grabbed the cash and placed it into the lock box.

Just as you went to let Dean know you’d finished up, Matt’s name flashed on your phone. He was calling you, confusion made your brows furrow. You answered none the less.

“Hey babe. What’s up?” You smiled as he called you that, Matt’s voice calmed you.

“Not much. How’s work going?” Dean stood up and walked towards you. He frowned as he saw that you were on the phone.

“I just wanted to check in. I wanna see you so bad..” He trailed off. His voice sounded out of breath and you could hear…was Matt running?

“Matt? You ok? It sounds like you’re running-“

“Get back here Matt! Let her go!” A gruff voice called out. The phone call ended before you had a chance to respond.

“Alright. Can we go now?” Dean asked, he tilted his head at you. Motioning towards the door.

“Yup!” Your voice hid any bit of confusion that you had in regards to your boyfriend’s phone call. The door of the bakery being held open for you as the two of you walked down main street, gasping as Dean grabbed your arm and pulled you toward an older black muscle car. “What’re you doing, Dean?”

“I’m driving us. Got a problem with that?” You didn’t, you just didn’t like the way he had manhandled you in the process. Eyes wide and lips parted, he ignored the cute look of surprise you gave him. Dean grinned as you slid into the car, glad he didn’t have to argue with you about it.

80’s rock music that only your father listened to played through the cars speakers. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he hummed in tune with the music. Every so often you would give him directions to your house, well “your bosses’ house” but he hadn’t bothered to even ask your name yet.

Dean’s head turned to face you, “Can I ask you something?” He watched as you turned your head to face the older man. “You know anybody in town named Matthew Green? They live here in town?”

Why was he asking about Matt? What did the FBI want with your Boyfriend?

“Not that I know of.” The answer hung in the air as silence once again fell between you two. You were suspicious of why Dean would be asking about Matt? What could Matt have possibly done? Not long after, Dean felt into his comfort zone by humming with the music.

Your house appeared just beyond the horizon, you could already see your mother sitting on the porch swing, working through whatever book her book club was currently reading. The light from the kitchen shone through the window, your father’s shadow moving around, likely cooking up dinner.

Dean pulled into the driveway and cut the engine off, you stepped out to walk ahead of Dean to greet your mom. Your mother’s lips pursed in question as you sat down with her. “Who’d you get a ride from, Y/N? A new friend?” A blush crept up onto your entire face and you did your best to hide it as Dean made his way to the porch. Turning your head you walked towards him.

“Y/N Y/L/N, don’t be rude. Introduce your new friend.” Shock coated Dean’s features, Jesus Christ.

“Y/N?” He repeated your name. It took all you had in you not to ask him to say your name again. Never before had your name sounded so good coming from someone’s mouth. “You didn’t tell me your name was Y/N.” Anger punched through him and into you. You didn’t understand.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t ask what my name was either.” The two of you stared at each other but before Dean could fire back your father popped his head out the kitchen window. “Y/N? Is your new friend staying for dinner?”

Whatever answer you would have given didn’t matter because your mom answered for you. “Course he is, you two go wash up.” Dean simply gave you and your family a tense smile before heading into the house behind you.

“Y/N. I really need to talk to you alone.” He implored you. Without much warning, he pushed the two of you into the small bathroom of your house. Your upstairs brain told your downstairs brain to shut up and realize that Dean was most likely 3 times your size and could easily over power you any time he wanted. His hand came out to rest against the edge of the sink. “I know..I know this is going to sound nuts but you’ve got to listen to me. That Matthew Green I asked you about? Well, he’s..he’s coming after you.”

Dean’s words made you laugh more than anything. You shook your head and leaned against the door. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Laughter was bubbling up inside your throat but you did your best to suppress it.

Dean knew you weren’t taking him seriously, so he let his eyes narrow and his jaw set as he answered you. “He created this town, he created a fake family for you, he created this picture perfect place for you.”

“Why is the FBI investigating this anyways?”

“I’m not actually apart of the FBI, Y/N. Me and my brother help people. People like you, people in danger.”

“I’m not in danger. Matt’s my boyfriend ok! He’s a great guy. I’m sorry but I think you should go.” Pain shot up your wrist as Dean grabbed onto it, hard.

“How long have you two been dating?” You rolled your eyes and went to answer. The words six months died on your lips as Dean let go.

“Six months? Really? That’s an awfully long time for someone your age to be in a relationship.” Your eyes shifted around the room.

“He’s older than me, has a full time job…” Dean narrowed his eyes.

“And your first date?”

“Well, it went terribly. He was rude and inconsiderate and I wasn’t going to have a second date but he called me and,” your memories feel fuzzy as you thought back on what happened just six months ago. You could only remember that first date and then everything felt fuzzy. Right up until Dean walked into the store.

“And what Y/N? Can’t remember? Feels like a dream?”

Sure he had lied to you about being FBI (you totally called that though), but something about what he said made you believe him. The town…it didn’t sit with you. You shook your head because of course the relationship was real, your parents were totally real and so was your town. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why..why would he do something like that? I’m nothing special. Besides! If this isn’t real how are you here?”

Dean rubbed over his jaw as he replied honestly. “I know how to get into dreams. It’s a special drink that allows us to share dreams. Now look, this whole fake dreamland is nice and all sweetheart, but I need you to come with me. ‘Cause that’s all this is, the fantasy of some witch.”

A soft knocking on the door interrupted you. “Y/N? What’s taking so long? Are you gonna come out now?” Your mother’s soft voice penetrating through the door. “Wouldn’t wanna eat dinner cold..”

“Mom just give me a minute.” Your voice shook as you answered her. Her voice sounded off, cheery in an almost too cheery sort of way. Suddenly everything was becoming claustrophobic and Dean was only making it worse by moving closer.

“I need you to trust me ok?” Dean had his hand extended to you, just as you went to take it, the bathroom door opened. Instead of your mom outside, Matt stood in front of you two.

“Matt? What-“

“What am I doing here? Well, I knew something was wrong when that brother of yours,” He turned his gaze from you to Dean, “started chasing me and shooting at me. I just had to get away from work to check on you, princess.” The nickname was sour and only now did you notice the blood on his pressed, white shirt and his khaki pants.

Fear made your stomach sink as he tugged you outside of the bathroom and into the kitchen. Horror replaced that when you saw both your parents, dead, blood covering the white tiles.

“N-no! Mo-Mom!” You sobbed. Dean tried his best but an invisible force shoved Dean roughly against the wall. Tears quickly sprung to your eyes as you tried and failed to pull away from Matt. “Please..Please just let me go. I..I’ll stay with you.” The words didn’t seem to sate him, his hand gripping on harsh enough to leave bruises of his fingertips into your skin. Matt was pissed and just as he was going to leave your home, in rushed another man. Taller than Dean, he silently looked around from you to his brother and then back to you.

Matt sighed as another invisible force sent this man back. Dean was finally picking himself up. “Nice to see you made it, Sammy.”

“Shut up, Dean.” That must have been Dean’s brother that he mentioned. They sure were doing a good job on saving you. The two brothers pushed themselves up. Matt turned his attention to Sam.

“I was so sure I lost you back there.” He smiled and brought your back to his chest, helplessly you felt the tip of a knife against your throat. Dean stepped towards you and it only made Matt press the thing harder against your neck.

You screamed, not caring if you looked weak for being scared about all this. “Just leave us alone!” Matt cried. “Can’t you see we’re happy?” He asked. Dean’s eyes never left yours, it did it’s job in making you feel calm. You had to calm down…calm down and think.

“It’s not real Matt. This isn’t the real Y/N and you know that.” Sam stepped closer, only causing Matt to drag you backwards.

“We had a good first date! I call and ask what I did wrong and she tells me I was rude. Called her fat, and insulted her interests.” Matt’s voice was getting louder and each word unlocked memories. They seemed so real, fresh, like they’d just happened. “I try everything and tell her she just misunderstood but she wouldn’t believe me. If she’d just believed me-“ Anger replaced the fear that you had felt as you stomped on his foot. It was enough of a distraction to pull away from him.

Dean smiled in surprise and extended his hand and just as your fingers brushed over his, pain washed over you. So much pain that it crippled you to the floor on your hands and knees. Sound became muted and you lost a grip on what was happening. Matt was so shocked by what he’d done to you that Dean was able to raise his gun and shoot him. The guy probably didn’t even notice.

Your hand moved behind your back to feel the knife that had been in Matt’s hands now lodged into your back. “O-Oh..” If this was all really just a dream, it sure didn’t seem like it from the way the pain was invading your every sense. Dean dropped to his knees as he cradled you. Matt hadn’t seemed to have died yet. He was sputtering about and coughing up blood.

“Y/N, Y/N stay with me ok? You just gotta hold out until he’s dead.” Deans instructions were fuzzy. It was hard to pay attention, but he gripped onto your hands. “C’mon princess…Don’t die yet.” He smiled weakly at you and as much as you wanted to stay awake for Dean, your body wouldn’t let you. You drifted off, into the unknown. Although not concerned as much as you should have been with whether or not you would wake up.

Thankfully, you did. Your eyes blinked awake and sat up slowly, only to then realize that there was no pain in your back. Dean stared back at you, it was a little shocking to see him…in real life. Dean had been fuzzy back in the dream, but now..in this hospital room, you liked how real he looked.

Sam blinked awake beside him, his eyes softening as he saw you were ok. He stood up and grabbed his things their.

“Y/N? You ok there?” Dean asked and grabbed onto your hand. There was an ever present beeping beside your head.

“Yeah Dean. ‘M fine…” You trailed off. “I mean, an insane guy that I’d only been on one date with imprisoned me, but other than that..” It..It was weird because you had no idea how this had happened. “Is Matt..”

“Matt won’t be a problem. I swear.” Dean’s eyes lifted to Sam’s in a silent communication only brothers could have, asked Sam left to give them a moment alone.

“Good..Good.” Dean didn’t offer up what that meant, but you trusted that it was the truth. “Yeah..Yeah..Ok.” You whispered. “Thank you..for saving me.” You smiled back at him and leaned forward to press your lips to Dean’s in a thank you.

A gentle smile graced his lips, but you knew you had to pull away. “You do that to everyone you’re thankful of?” He asked and you shook your head no. “Guess I’m just that special?” He asked.

“You’re impossible.” It only made you want to kiss him again. So you did…again and again. You liked living in the real world. The one where Dean was there to save you.

Dean laid awake in bed, contemplating on whether he should get out or stay in. Things in the bunker had been tense, very tense. Sam and Cas both had started going silent. Even when probed, neither would say more than one word answers.

His mind drifted to his dreams once more. Recently, it’s all he’d been able to do. Now, with another dream about Y/N on top of the other, most of his thoughts were being clouded by yours.

During research, eating, even showering. He felt wrong when he thought of you and Dean worried he was going to get an idea that there really was a girl like that out there for him.

So Dean did what he always did, he shoved you and the stupid dreams down, and off his mind as far away as possible.

@lovinghunty @tarot--thot @cuddly-cat-in-a-trench-coat @timeless-crow @musiclovinchic93

#spnkinkbingo #spndeanbingo #dean x reader #dean x reader smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester x reader smut #lia's 2019 kink bingo series #we get what we deserve ch. 4

68 notes · View notes

you-a-southpaw-doll · 5 years

Text

Sniffles ~ A Modern Negan!AU One-Shot

Summary: Even though Negan suffers from a sinus infection, he doesn’t let it stop him from spending the day with his son, Christian.

Warning(s): Fluff. Language. Negan as a single dad. Slight angst. Tobacco use.

Relationship(s): Negan x Christian (OMC) (Father/Son)

Characters: Negan. Christian (OMC). Brief mention of Reader.

Taglist: @negans-network @thamberlina @prettyboynegan

Story Time:

“Daddy?”

I look down at my little boy sitting in my lap. He has his head tilted back and he’s just looking up at me with a curious expression. In this moment, he looks just like his mama, my late wife, (Y/N). He has your eyes, and my dimples. As each day goes by, he looks more and more like you.

At times, it breaks my heart ‘cause you’re not here to see him. At others, it makes my heart swell with love ‘cause I know you’re still here in a way. You passed away two years ago, when our son was only five years old. Some drunk driver had collided into head-on.

You didn’t even make it to the hospital. Since then, I’ve been raising our little boy by myself. I keep one arm curled ‘round his waist as I hold him in my lap, and bring my other hand up to his hair. I brush his blonde locks outta his face as I sniffle.

“Yea, little man?” I ask, trying not to sneeze.

“Can we watch a movie?” He asks.

I nod. “Of course, we fuckin’ can, bud. You got one in mind?”

He giggles and nods. Whenever I cuss, he always giggles. He finds it to be the funniest thing in the world. I know you never liked me cussing ‘round him, but since you’ve been gone, it’s been harder to control. The words just slip out. He’s picked up a few of ‘em, but he never says ‘em outside of the house, which I appreciate.

He climbs outta my lap, but doesn’t go very far; only far ‘nough to get the remote. Once he has it, he climbs back up in my lap, sitting sideways, so that he’s sitting on my right thigh, with his legs draped over my other one. I wrap my arm ‘round him to keep him from falling.

He scrolls through the recorded movies I have on the DVR. When he finds the one he wants to watch, he plays it, drops the remote, and nestles up against me, resting his head on my shoulder. I make commentary throughout the movie, which has him laughing.

I love hearing his laugh; it’s so pure and innocent, and it reminds me a great deal of you and your laugh. I keep sneezing every couple of minutes, and sniffle when I’m not sneezing. Halfway through the movie, he tilts his head back, looking up at me.

He runs his fingers through my short, salt and pepper beard. I flash him a dimpled smile, before turning my head to sneeze again. This sinus infection I’ve got going on is kicking my ass. Not only is it making my entire body weak, and tired, but my nose is already raw.

To the point that normal tissues irritate it even more, and my nose burns worse than the Devil in a sauna in Hell on a hot Georgia day in the middle of fuckin’ July.

“Daddy? Can we pull the couch out into the bed? I wanna lay down.” My son says, letting out a big yawn for such a little kid.

My smile grows as I kiss his forehead. “Sure, little man. Hop up for a moment, yeah?”

He nods and hops outta my lap. I push myself up off the couch. He beats me to removing the cushions, and tosses ‘em to the side. I can’t help but chuckle. I reach down, grab the handle to the pull-out bed, and tug. When the bed unfolds, I look at my son.

He’s got a couple blankets in his arms. Laughing, I take ‘em from him and get ‘em situated on the bed. I can’t help but notice that one of ‘em is your favorite one. It’s also our son’s favorite one. My heart clenches at the sight of it. I miss you something fierce.

I always do. Every day since you’ve been gone. Christian helps me get the pillows set up on the bed before he crawls under the blankets. Patting the empty space beside him, he looks up me. His curly hair flopping back as his head tilts back.

“Sit with me, daddy?” He asks.

I nod while sneezing. I climb into the bed next to him. He immediately curls up to my left side, laying his little head on my chest, just over my heart, and draping his tiny arm across my tummy. I let my arm rest behind him, bending it at the elbow so my hand can rest on his back.

Every time I sneeze, he jumps slightly, but hands me a clean tissue.

“I just wanna take care of you, daddy.” He says, handing me the sixth tissue in less than twenty minutes.

I smile and thank him. He stays curled up to my side. A few minutes after I start rubbing his back, I notice he’s drifted off to sleep, snoring quietly. I doze off too, knowing that my son’s alright. I wake up some time later to my phone ringing. I grumble as I reach behind me to grab it.

Placing it to my ear, I realize that I’ve rolled to my left side, with Christian on his side, facing me, but still tucked against my chest. He’s still sound asleep, and my arm’s still ‘round him.

“Hello?” I mumble, quietly, into the phone, making sure not to wake my little boy up.

“Hey, Negan!” Simon says. “I was just wanting to check in on you and see how things were going.”

“They’re fine.” I sneeze again, causing my son to jump in his sleep, and scoot closer to me.

“You sure? You don’t sound like it.”

I grunt. “Mmhhmm. Christian’s asleep next to me. I’m sicker than a fuckin’ dog. But, other than that, things are a-fuckin’-okay, Si.”

“Ok. Ok. Can I do anythin’ for y’all?”

I shake my head before I notice that he can’t see me. Christian stirs in my arms.

“Nah. We’re fuckin’ good, Si. Thanks, though.” I say to my best friend through the phone.

“Ok. Well, if I can, let me know. Alright? I’ll swing by later.” Simon says.

“Sounds good. Listen. I’ve got to fuckin’ go.”

“Ok.”

Simon ends the call. I lock my phone and set it on the bed next to me. My son stirs again.

“Daddy? When’s dinner?” He asks, sleepily.

I glance down at him. He’s still got his eyes closed. I chuckle.

“You fuckin’ hungry, little man?” I ask.

He giggles and nods. “Mmhhmm.”

I laugh. “Alright. I’ll make dinner in a few.”

He cracks his eyes open and looks up at me, nodding. He snuggles up to me even more. Neither of us move for a few minutes until I hear his tummy growl. I playfully tickle him, causing him to laugh.

I smile. “Alright. C’mon. Let’s go get some fuckin’ food in you, yeah?”

He grins. “Yay!”

He hugs me tightly before jumping outta bed and running to the kitchen. Sitting up, I chuckle and reach into my pocket for my can of dip. I used to smoke cigarettes, but you didn’t like it, so I stopped. After you passed, I needed something, and I was hesitant to drink since you’d been taken from us ‘cause of a drunk driver.

As much as I missed the taste of liquor, I wasn’t willing to pick up a drink. Since I didn’t wanna start smoking again, I started dipping. I pop the top, grab a pouch of Copenhagen Wintergreen snuff with my index finger, and thumb. I tuck it into the side of my lip as I hear my son call out to me from the other room.

I shove the dip can in my back pocket. I clamber outta the bed, and follow right behind him. I have to stop a few times ‘cause I have to sneeze really hard. Christian runs up to me after the third sneeze with a tissue handy.

“Thanks, bud.” I say, blowing my nose.

He just grins and runs back to the kitchen. It really isn’t that far from the living room, since we only live in a two bedroom, one bath house. It’s just he and I, so we don’t need a lot of space. Plus, it’s the house you and I bought right after we got married.

I could’ve moved at some point over the last two years, but I didn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to for a couple of reasons. This was the home we’d shared together. I didn’t want to disrupt Christian’s life any more than it already been by having him move.

Plus, it’s right down the street from the high school I work at, and the local community college I attend at night. I smile as soon as I see my son in the kitchen. He’s standing on his little step stool, hands on the counter, and just bouncing with excitement.

He looks up at me, smiling.

“C’mon, daddy! I’m hungry and I wanna help you cook!” He exclaims.

I laugh as I walk closer to him. “Alright, bud. Why don’t you go ahead and hop up on the fuckin’ counter, eh?”

He giggles as he does just that. He plops down on the countertop, and swings his feet back and forth, occasionally kicking the cabinet doors. I walk over to him, ruffling his hair.

He just grins up at me. “What are we havin’?”

I think. “Hmm…pork chops, mashed taters, mac n cheese, and some fuckin’ gravy?”

“Yea!”

I chuckle. “Alright. Let’s get to fuckin’ work then.”

He giggles and helps me while I get the pork chops breaded and in the frying pan.

“Daddy?” Christian asks while I cut up the little roast potatoes.

“Yea, little man?” I ask, glancing up at him.

“Can we play some music? Pretty please?”

I laugh. “Sure, bud. You know where my phone is?”

He nods and hops down off the counter. He runs to the living room. I drop the potatoes into the pot of boiling water. I flip the pork chops in the frying pan. A moment later, my son’s walking back into the kitchen. I watch as he walks closer to me, head down, gazing at the screen of my iPhone while his little fingers tap against the screen.

A moment later, I hear a song start playing. Christian looks up at me, with a cute little smirk on his face. He hops back up on the counter, setting my phone beside him. We jam out to the music while I cook. The songs change, but Christian and I don’t really mind.

We’re just having a lot of fuckin’ fun. Halfway through cooking, and just as I’m ‘bout to add the macaroni pasta to the hot water, I look at my little boy, just as a rough sneeze escapes my body. I quickly turn my head, and sneeze, making sure to cover my nose.

I sniffle once I’m done sneezing, and look at my son again.

“Do you mind goin’ and openin’ the fuckin’ door, little man? Uncle Si said he’s gonna stop on by.” I say, my voice a bit scratchy from that last, harsh sneeze.

He grins, giggles, and nods. He hops down off the counter, almost falling in the process, but I quickly reach down to help steady him. He grins even more and dashes off to the living room. I hear him struggle with the door handle for a few seconds ‘fore the door hits the bookcase we have by it.

His little feet pad across the floor in a hurry as he rushes back into the kitchen where I’m at. He runs straight into my legs, wrapping his tiny little arms ‘round ‘em, and tucking his face against my thigh. I just chuckle, add the pasta to the water, and bend down to scoop my little man up into my arms.

I get him settled on my hip; his legs wrap ‘round my waist, one arm curls ‘round my neck, and his free hand plays with the collar of my tank top. I stir the pasta with my free hand, before leaning against the counter across from the stove. I shift Christian so that he’s still got his legs ‘round my waist, but he’s facing me.

My arms are hooked ‘round his waist, keeping a tight grip on him so that he doesn’t fall. He brings his hands up and fiddles with my dog tags.

“What are these, daddy?” He ask, glancing up at me.

“Those are my dog tags.” I reply, smiling.

His brow furrows. “Dog tags? But...you’re not a dog, daddy.”

I laugh. “No. I’m not.”

“Then...why do you have dog tags?”

“Remember daddy’s uniform?”

He tilts his head to the side. “Your Navy one?”

I nod. “Daddy was in the Navy, little man. My dog tags are my way of being identified if I was ever hurt.”

“Were you ever hurt?”

I point to the scar that’s on my left shoulder. “I was shot.”

He looks up at me, fear in his eyes. “But...you’re ok, right?”

I nod, lowering my head slightly to kiss his forehead. “I’m alright, little man. I’m alright.”

He nods his own head, and drops my dog tags. His little arms wrap ‘round my neck, and he lays his head against my shoulder. I just hold my son close. A few moments later, I hear the screen door open, and heavy footsteps in the living room.

“Negan? Christian?” Simon calls out.

Christian lifts his head and looks at the entryway to the kitchen. A grin covers his face.

“Uncle Si!” He exclaims.

I hear Simon let out a deep chuckle. “Hey, little man.”

I turn, setting my son down on the ground in the process, and look at my best friend. Christian runs over to his uncle, who sets down the couple of grocery bags in his hands, to pick my son up. Simon’s not really his uncle, but rather, his godfather, and with Simon being so much like a brother to me, he’s like an uncle to Christian.

The two talk in hushed whispers for a few minutes. I focus on finishing up dinner. When I turn my attention back to my best friend and my little boy, I notice that Simon’s looking at me.

“Bro. You look like shit.” He says.

I let out a weak chuckle. “Thanks. I bet you say that to all the guys.”

He laughs. “Shut the fuck up.”

I laugh, which leads me to sneezing again. I groan at this one ‘cause it hurts like a motherfucker. Simon plates three dishes with the small meal I cooked, and carries ‘em to the living room, with Christian and I following right behind him. The three of us all all sit on the edge of the pull-out couch mattress, and eat our dinner while watching Monsters University.

After dinner, Simon cleans up the kitchen, ignoring my protests and telling him I’ll take care of it tomorrow. He cleans the kitchen up for me, gives Christian a hug, and pats me on the shoulder, before leaving. I get Christian settled in the bath, and he insists that I sit in there with him.

As he’s getting ready to step in the tub, he looks up at me.

“Daddy. Sit in with me. You can work on your homework while I take a bath.” He says.

I smile. “Ok. Fine. I guess I can fuckin’ do that.”

He giggles and hops in the tub. While he’s splashing ‘round, I go grab my laptop and come back to sit on the toilet seat. Christian plays ‘round in the water, with the curtain drawn so he can have privacy, and I work on the two 15 page research papers, on baseball, that I have due over the weekend.

As soon as I finish the little edits I had to make to ‘em, and submit ‘em, I close my laptop, and prop it up against the wall, just outside the bathroom.

“Alright, little man. Let’s get you clean.” I say.

I help Christian wash his hair. For some reason, he’s always had a fear of washing his hair, so I have to help him with it. He prefers for you to do it, but in the last two years, since it’s just been he and I, he’s gotten used to having me help him wash his hair.

As soon as he’s clean, he reaches for the tub stopper, and I grab a clean towel. He stands up, and I dry his hair ‘fore wrapping the towel ‘round him. I scoop him up and carry him out to the living room, plopping him down on the bed. He just laughs that innocent, carefree laugh of his, and I smile.

He sits up, pulling his arms from the confines of the towel, and reaches for his jersey shorts. When he’s got them on, he looks at me, tossing the towel at me too.

“Daddy. Can I wear I sleep in one of your shirts?” He asks.

I nod and go grab one of the t-shirts I bought from my college. I walk back to him and slide it over his head. It swallows him whole, but he just smiles. I toss the towel onto the chair ‘side the couch while he get situated under the blankets. I settle down next to him, only for him to immediately nestle up to my side.

Since you’ve been gone, he’s gotten a lot clingier to me. Not that I mind, ‘cause I don’t. Not one fuckin’ bit. He’s all I’ve got, and I’m all he’s got. He lays his head on my shoulder once I wrap my arm ‘round him. I play the pause since we’d paused it after dinner.

“Daddy? Can you tell me a story ‘bout you and mummy?” Christian asks.

I smile and pause the movie. “Of course.”

I tell him the story ‘bout how you and I first met. I had just gotten home from a deployment, so I was still in my uniform, and had my bags slung over my shoulders. I was waiting for a taxi at the airport, and you’d bumped into me from behind.

You apologized, and kept your head lowered, from embarrassment, I later found out. I assured you it was perfectly fine and even teased you a bit. I couldn’t help it.

You were precious. All flustered and shit.

Plus, you were cuter than a baby bunny on Easter morning. You took my breath away, and made my heart flutter in ways it never had before. I found out that you were going to the same apartment building I was. When the taxi pulled up, I offered to share the taxi with you, and you readily accepted since you were running late.

During the ride to our apartment complex, we got to know each other, and by the time the taxi stopped, I’d gotten the courage to ask you out to dinner. I’d never been nervous ‘bout asking a woman to dinner before, but it was different with you.

You nervously agreed. I realized, later, that you were only nervous ‘cause you thought I was insanely hot and hadn’t ever really had someone like me talk to someone like you before.

Your words, not mine.

After setting up a date for the following day, and swapping phone numbers, we went our separate ways. Turns out, you lived on the floor below mine. I took you to dinner the next night, and well, the rest was history. I asked you to marry me a few months later, just ‘fore I found out I was gonna get deployed again in a few months’ time.

We got married three days ‘fore I shipped out on another deployment. You couldn’t wait another minute of not being my wife. When I got back, I found you waiting for me, with our son in your arms. You’d wanted to wait and tell me in person that you were pregnant ‘cause you felt it was something that would be better said face-to-face as opposed to the letters we sent back and forth.

Since, I didn’t know you were pregnant, I was sad that I’d missed it, but the sight of you holding our little boy, waiting for my on that dock made my heart swell with love. We went back to our apartment, and eventually bought this house. I got out of the Navy, and got a job as a high school coach.

By time I’m finished with the story, I glance down at my son. He’s sound asleep, tucked against my side. I smile, kiss the top of his head, and close my eyes. I wake up at some point in the night to him crawling on top of me, wrapping his legs ‘round my waist, and his arms ‘round my neck.

“Don’t wanna lose you, daddy.” He mumbles in his sleep.

It breaks my heart, and I tighten my arms ‘round him. He moves his head and tucks it against the side of my neck, tighten his little arms ‘round me. I drift off to sleep once more.

#Sniffles #One-shot #Negan!AU #Negan Fanfic #Negan as a single dad #Negan Fluff #Negan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan Fluff #JDM Fluff #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #JDM #The Walking Dead #TWD #The Walking Dead Fluff #TWD Fluff

31 notes · View notes