#running this like the navy catching myself thinking 'oh i need to reblog more of X character' like its not that serious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suchalonelysunflower · 4 years

Text

“A Great Place to Start a New Story” (m.c)

Pairing: Michael Clifford X Reader

Summary: Michael is at his best friend wedding feeling lonely when a stranger comes up to him and gives him one of the best advices he’s ever heard.

Warnings: None other than mentions of Alcohol, a few bad words and mentios of death. Also, some grammar mistakes (Not as many as before but still, English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 2.5 K

Author’s Note: Hello! Here you have another soft Michael fic with a neutral reader, I’ve been trying to incorporate that more into my writing lately so if you have any suggestions please don’t doubt in contacting me 😊 If you want to read more of 5SOS you can visit my recent Ashton fic, Luke fic and the second part of the Entangled Series ft. Calum and Harry S ✨ You can find the rest of my work HERE. Thank you so much, remember that reblogs, comments and feedback are always welcome! I love to hear from you guys 💕 Hope you like it and Happy reading 🦋💕

Michael swore that if he sees one more happy couple coming his way he was going to break something, a thing that was easier said than done, considering that he was at the wedding reception of his best friend and he would probably have to pay for it afterwards.

He watched bitterly as the couples slowly danced a few feet in front of him, swaying along to some love song he’s never heard of. In the middle of the crowd he could easily spot Luke and his partner, holding each other tightly as they dance like there’s nobody else in the room, this was their moment, the beginning of a new chapter in their lives and Michael was happy for them. But he couldn’t deny that hint of jealousy that tugged on his heart.

Falling in love was not a top priority for him. Yes, it is nice to have someone to care about and for them to care about you, but with his busy life he always felt like he didn’t have the time to actually care about that part of his life, ignoring it most of the time. Only when the RSVP to Luke’s wedding came in the mail did he realize how lonely he actually felt. A sense of longing came over him, He thought that by now he would’ve met the person he was going to spend the rest of his life with. His better half, soulmate or whatever, but it seems that is just not meant to be for him. And it’s not like he hasn’t fallen in love at some point, he had a few relationships over the years, but they always ended the same way: Either a heartbreak or a song written about him.

Michael sighed deeply, bringing his glass to his lips only to find in discontent that it was already empty. He cursed through gritted teeth and slammed the glass on the table with more force than he intended to.

“Tough night?” Asked a voice next to him.

Michael turned his head to the side and found an old lady sitting next to him. He didn’t notice her at first, or at all to be honest. He knew, however, that she was not at the table when they first sat down, so he assumed she just made herself a place when her friends were out dancing with their partners not too far away.

The lady seemed nice enough, very elegant for an evening wedding. She had some pearl earrings that matched her necklace, and for the looks of it, they were completely real. Her hair was pinned up with too much hairspray and her eyeshadow was very bright. She wore a nice navy dress embroidered with patches of lace that seemed out of date but she wore it in such a fashionable way that you wouldn’t even question it.

She smiled at Michael and looked at him up and down “You are not in love with one pair of the couple, now are you blondie?”

Michael’s mouth dropped with the lady’s remark. Part of him offended at such an assumption and the other just very impressed by the boldness of the mysterious old woman.

“Oh, close your mouth, dear. Flies will go in there” Michael obeyed “So, are you?”

“No!” Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes. Who was this lady? “I’m the best man, Luke’s bandmate”

The woman hummed “Then why are you sitting here like it’s the great depression? Believe I know what that’s like, I lived through it” She said, even though she didn’t look a day over 70.

Michael sighed “Not a big fan of weddings, I guess” He stated, looking at his empty glass.

“Is it that or you’re just not a fan of love in general?” She inquired. Michael averted his gaze on purpose, wondering why the hell was he still talking to this person?

“You know,” Said the lady after a few moments of silence “Weddings are a great place to start a story”

“Huh?” Michael mumbled.

“A lot of great stories came from weddings” She smiled “Plus, it is a great place to meet new single people” She said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. Michael cocked an eyebrow to her in response “Anyone caught your eye?”

He shook his head “Wasn’t really looking”

“Ah, but that’s how you find them” She placed her hand over MIchael’s. The wrinkled, yet soft hand patted his in a kind way, and for him it was an act of comfort he didn’t know he needed “But, what could I know? I’m just an old lady in the middle of a party” Michael opened his mouth to say something but she interrupted him again “Don’t you think it’s time to fill up that bad boy again?” She said, pointing to his empty glass and then the open bar.

Michael sighed again, looked at the old lady and nodded, already getting up and making his way to the bar.

He leaned his elbows into the bar, thoughts running through his head trying to understand what the woman just said. Was it so obvious how unhappy he was with his loneliness? or is it just a custom for old ladies to get all up in your business when you are a complete stranger to them?

He placed his thumb and index fingers between his eyes, trying to let the frustrations go and actually enjoy the party and celebrate his best friends’ love. But, then again, it was easier said than done.

“A whisky on the rocks, please” A voice said next to him, making him snap his head to his side.

You were standing there, looking absolutely done with life as you ordered your drink. You had one arm resting on the bad while the other went to the back of your head, rubbing your neck as you stretched it from side to side. Tilting your head to the side you catch Michael’s stare, you glared.

“What?” You asked in a sarcastic chuckle “Think is too early for a heavy drink?”

Michael blinked a few times, surprised by the sound of your voice directed at him “Uh, no, actually. I was just about to get the same thing”

Michael signaled the bartender and they nodded. You sighed, relaxing a little bit more around him.

“Fun party, isn’t it?” You asked.

Michael scoffed “Depends on who you’re asking” He said, pointing to the couples dancing in the middle of the room.

You laughed “Oh, seems like someone here shares my kind of humor” You turned to him, extending your hand to greet him properly “I’m Y/N.”

He shook your hand and smiled “Michael”

“You’re Luke’s bandmate, are you?”

“I am, and you are..?” He inquired.

“Oh, I’m here for the other side of the wedding party. Didn’t really know Luke very well until he put a ring on my cousin’s finger” Michael chuckled and you did too “They are truly in love, aren’t they?” You said, looking at the happy couple.

The bartender placed your drinks on the bar and walked away. Michael nodded as he grabbed his glass and took a sip of the burning beverage “Only a fool would think otherwise. You should’ve seen Luke when he first got the ring. I’ve never seen him so happy before”

You hummed “Yeah,” You took a sip of your drink and looked at Michael “What about you, rockstar?” Michael smiled into his drink at the sound of the nickname “Is there a special someone in your life?”

Michael shook his head “Not really the best at finding love, apparently. Given that I’m the only single person in the room” He said, bitterly.

“Well, not the only one” You said, lifting your drink so you could clinked your glass with his. You both laughed.

The conversation between you two went smoothly as you get to know each other better. Michael was actually surprised that you indeed shared a lot of things in common besides your sense of humor and relationship status. You talked about music, video games you played, the annoyance you both shared towards certain people and even finding out that you were both the class clown that was a little too shy to become the main troublemaker in school.

You talked all night. You mentioned things about your passions and your career and Michael listened with actual interest to the whole thing, even asking some questions about it, making you smile and ramble on and on about them, and he really seemed to like the way your eyes shined whenever they met his. Michael shared with you details about what is really like living as a musician, touring and the interactions they had with fans, stating how it was amazing but at the same time very draining and consuming.

“Guess that’s why I don’t find myself in situations where I can actually meet people and go out on dates or whatever”

“Well, that didn’t seem like a problem to your friends over there” You said, pointing out at his bandmates “What’s holding you back?”

Michael looked at you, suddenly aware of your close proximity. He didn’t know when it happened that your arm was so close to his that they were almost touching, but he didn’t mind one bit.

“Maybe love is just not a fan of me, contrary at what that lady said” You looked at him quizzically and he just chuckled at your confused expression “There was this old lady who came up to me and asked me if I was afraid of love and then started to tell me about how ‘weddings are the best place to meet people and start new stories” He said, trying to imitate the lady’s voice.

You laughed “Ah, it seems to me that you met Aunt Lydia”

“You know her?”

“Yes! She’s actually our great aunt, and don’t worry, she does that every time we are at a wedding.” You chuckled “She thinks that because she met her husband at a wedding that everyone would do the same”

You laughed again and, seemingly in that instant, Michael decided he wanted to hear more of that laugh “Well, maybe she’s not wrong” He said, making you blush. He decided he liked that.

“Hey, Y/N?” He asked, suddenly very shy.

“Yes, rockstar?”

“Wanna dance?”

Michael extended his hand as an invitation, a dashing smile crossing his face with ease as you took it and let him guide you to the dance floor.

The rest of the group was surprised to see Michael dancing, given that he was never one of the ‘life of the party’ kinda guy. But when they saw him smiling at you while attempting to slow dance, they just knew.

You danced together until your feet practically begged you for some kind of break, making your way outside of the venue so you could sit on one of the few benches they had in the patio. You rested your head on Michael’s shoulder, not really saying much as you both looked at the sky.

This was not the outcome Michael would have expected from tonight, however he didn’t find it so terrible or scary. He only met you a few hours ago, but something inside him was telling him that you needed to be part of his life. This felt right, so right even that he didn’t want to let go of you just yet.

“I had fun” You said, breaking the silence after a while.

“Me too” Michael said, softly grabbing your hand and starting to play with your fingers “Kinda don’t want it to end”

You hummed, tilting your head so you could look him in the eyes “Then don’t let it end”

Michael’s green eyes were set on yours, noses almost brushing as you came closer and closer, taking each other’s faces from this new angle. Michael’s hand rested softly on your cheek, cupping it as his eyes traveled from your lips to your gaze.

“How will I know that this is not a dream and you will not disappear when I open my eyes?” He said in a hushed tone, forehead resting against yours.

“Kiss me and you’ll find out” You whispered back. Holding your breath as he brought you into a kiss.

Everything felt just right.

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

The quiet boy stared at the happy couples with jealousy. Weddings were never his thing but he couldn’t miss his sister’s wedding, even if he wanted to.

He sighed deeply into his drink as he thought love was playing him a cruel joke, him being the only single person within a five mile ratio.

“What’s with the face, Robert?” Asked a voice behind him.

“Oh, hey uncle Mike” The young man said, not really knowing when his uncle came and sat next to him “Guess I’m just not in the mood”

Michael hummed, raising his hairy eyebrows and drawing even more wrinkles in his forehead “Feeling like love is not for you then”

Robert looked at him confused “How do you-”

“I was once young and stupid you know? Just like you,” Robert rolled his eyes “Hey, I’m trying to teach you something here, boy”

“Sorry”

“I also thought that love was not for me and I found myself in your same position, in your grandpa’s wedding feeling absolutely miserable” Michael’s eyes gleamed at the memory, a smile spreading on his face “And then I met the love of my life not even ten minutes later”

Michael still remembers that night like it was yesterday, even though it happened around fifty years ago. He remembers what you were wearing and the jokes that made you laugh. He still knows all the words to the songs you danced since that night, never passing a chance to slow dance with you or to give you the love and appreciation that you needed. He found out what you liked the most and what you hated, slowly learning to become one team of two individuals, but to be honest, he knew he was yours the moment he kissed you that night, thanking your great aunt every passing moment of his life, especially the night where he proposed. The sound of you saying yes through a teary smile still brings him all the joy he could ever need.

The years he had next to you were the best years of his life. He felt blessed to have been able to enjoy all those moments by your side, keeping his promise of loving you and making you happy until your last day on earth. Whenever he thought of you after the day you left, sadness does not cloud his mind like before. You were his partner, his soulmate and he will always remember how bright you were in every single aspect, your memory brought him the comfort he needed, knowing you were waiting for him and that right now you were watching over him with a grin on your face, knowing exactly what he was about to say next.

“And, who knows? After all, weddings are a great place to start a new story”

72 notes · View notes

atc74 · 5 years

Text

Castiel’s Coats

Square(s) Filled: Fashion Designer!Cas for @spnaubingo, Campfire for @spngenrebingo

Warnings: Rejection, low self-esteem, mentions of struggle, fluff

Summary: Cas gets the summer internship of his dreams, but feels the pressure as he struggles to come up with a winning design. His friends, Sam and Dean, have always been there for him, providing inspiration at the right time.

Pairing: none, this is a TFW College AU

Word Count: 1448

Written for: @spngenrebingo @spnaubingo

Beta’d by: @just-another-busyfangirl, thanks and love ya!

A/N: It’s no secret that I struggle writing Cas, but I think this is cute and way longer than I thought it would be. Hope y’all like it!

Like Dean, Sam or Cas’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

“Dean! Dean! I got it!” Cas threw open the door to their off-campus apartment. “I got the internship!”

“That’s great buddy. Congratulations!” Dean tossed his roommate and longtime friend a beer. “Let’s celebrate with pizza and beer.”

“That’s every night Dean,” Cas chastised, but shrugged. Being poor college students they didn’t have the funds to go out like some of their friends.

“We’ll get extra cheese!” Dean exclaimed, tapping out their order on his phone.

~*~

“So what do they have you working on?” Sam asked as they sat around the apartment after Cas’s first week.

“I am working on a new line of men’s outerwear with another intern,” Cas informed them as he reached for another beer. “I have to come up with something by Wednesday next week.”

“That soon?” Sam inquired.

“Yeah, it’s only a summer gig so we are moving fast. If they like it and use our designs, we get ten percent plus a bonus.” Cas grinned ear to ear at the thought of earning money that didn’t require manual labor, like his previous summer jobs.

Sam left for more beer than returned a minute later. “Man it got cold out. I wish I had a lighter weight jacket,” he muttered as he rummaged through the closet. “I have winter and summer jackets only!”

“I got it!” Cas ran from the living room.

He spent the next two days sequestered in his bedroom at his drawing table, coming out only to use the bathroom. Dean would slide a sandwich and a bottle of water under his nose a couple times a day just to make sure he ate and was still alive.

~*~

“Castiel Novak?” asked a petite older woman sitting behind a large wooden desk.

“Yes, Ms. Harvelle?” Cas took another step into the spacious office.

“Have a seat, please. I spent the day going through your designs and I have to say, they’re kind of boring,” she stated as she thumbed through the pages before her.

“I realize they might seem boring. But I’m a college student, Ms. Harvelle. I am trying to appeal to a simpler, younger crowd. What are they looking for these days? Functionality. There are multiple pockets for your phone, keys, or wallet. They are sturdy. College students don’t have a lot of money and the clothing needs to last,” Cas explained as she looked them over once more.

“These are all brown.” She looked up at him, her face showing no emotion.

Cas cleared his throat. “There is tan, warm toast, hazelnut, ecru, bay, russet, cinnamon, khaki…”

“Those are all shades of brown. Ten different brown trench coats, Mr. Novak,” Ellen Harvelle interrupted him. “And these other ones. What fabric is this? I have seen this before, I think, but never for clothing.”

“It’s...canvas, ma’am. Before you say anything, think about it. Canvas has a plethora of uses, tarps, canopies, shopping bags. But why not jackets? They are lined with flannel, making them soft to touch but the outer shell will last longer than anything else,” Cas pleaded his case.

“You may be right, but I will have to talk this over with the lead designer. That’s all for now, Mr. Novak,” she dismissed him, quickly turning to other tasks.

Castiel walked home from the bus stop, dejected. He should have put more thought into his designs. He should have used more color. He kicked a rock down the street, following with his head down until he reached their apartment building.

He refused pizza and beer and locked himself away in his room again for the weekend. Dean and Sam were worried about their friend, but they also knew when he needed time to himself. They didn’t see or hear from him until he returned from work Monday evening. It was Sam’s turn to cook and Cas joined him in the kitchen as he sauteed some vegetables and chicken. The peace and quiet was interrupted by the vibration of Cas’s phone.

“Hello?” he answered, not recognizing the number. “Yes, this is Castiel Novak. Oh Miss Harvelle...yes, so nice to talk to you...of course...yes...okay...I understand...yes ma’am. Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Was that your boss?” Sam turned from the stove to look at his roommate.

“Yeah, it was.” Cas put the phone back on the counter.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Sam empathized and returned to dinner.

“Thanks, Sam.” Cas grabbed a beer from the fridge.

He was quiet through dinner but Dean and Sam didn’t push him to talk about it. It wasn’t until his phone buzzed again that Cas smiled.

“Guys, I’m going to head to bed. Sam, thank you for dinner. See you tomorrow.” Cas left the kitchen, his phone still in hand.

~*~

Castiel didn’t offer information and the Winchesters didn’t push. The summer was coming to a close and school would be starting back up. It was their first week off all summer and they were going fishing. They sat around the campfire the first night, the air chilly. Dean shrugged his flannel on and Sam dug a hoodie out of his bag.

“Here, try these.” Cas handed them each a jacket.

Dean inspected the article Cas had given him. It was navy blue and had pockets for anything he might need, even interior pockets. He slipped off his flannel and slid his long arms through the sleeves of the jacket. It fit well and was comfortable, and warmer than his flannel.

Sam did the same with his. The army green color was nice. He turned it over and over until his eyes landed on the label. He read it out loud. “Castiel…Cas! Are you serious man? You did it!”

It took Dean a moment to catch up, but they celebrated Cas’s success with beers and plenty of relaxation. They returned home, ready for showers and sleep, but their apartment was empty.

“What the hell?” Dean stood in the middle of the living room. His arm chair and television, along with all their belongings, were gone. “What the hell?!”

“Oh yeah. I knew I forgot something else.” Cas smiled and held up three new keys. “Remember that bonus and the ten percent? Well it was a lot more than I expected, so I bought the house across the street and had our stuff moved while we were away.”

“Cas! You bought the house? Why didn’t you pay your tuition?” Sam asked, always the responsible one.

“I did. And both of yours.” Cas whistled as he walked out of the apartment and across the street, Dean and Sam running after him.

Cas gave them the grand tour, saving the best for last. “I always wanted an office. Somewhere I could design that wasn’t my personal space, but still mine, right? So I hired a contractor to convert the attic of the garage. What do you think?”

Sam looked around at Cas’s office, feeling like he was missing something. “This is kinda small for an attic this large, Cas, isn’t it?”

“You are correct, my friend. Which is why next door you will find your very own office and study space.” Cas opened the next door and it was filled with a new desk, couch and all of Sam’s law books.

Dean looked down at his feet, but tried to hide it for the sake of his brother and his friend. “It’s real nice, Cas. Thanks for doing that for Sammy.”

“Oh I almost forgot! Dean, come on!” Cas rushed down the back stairs and into the garage, flipping on all the lights. In the middle sat Dean’s prized 1967 Chevy Impala. One entire side of the garage was a workbench, two tool chests, and all of Dean’s tools.

Dean’s eyes glossed over as he took in everything. He turned back to Castiel. “You did all of this for us?”

“You’re my family and family takes are of each other. I’ve got more money than I need, so it seemed wrong to keep it all to myself.” Cas shrugged, hugging each of the brothers.

“Cas, if you don’t mind me asking…” Sam started.

“In total, over two million so far. But don’t worry. I’ve put the rest in savings,” Cas informed them. “Castiel’s Coats paid our college education, boys.”

“Wait! What about that call you got all those weeks ago? I thought it was a rejection,” Sam recalled.

“You never asked and I never said. I bought this house the following week and have been renovating it since. I wanted it to be a surprise,” Cas replied.

“Well it’s some surprise, buddy!” Dean slapped him on the back. “I’ll never make a crack about your career choice ever again. You gave my baby a home!”

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @paintrider13-blog @hunterscabin @alleiradayne

#spngenrebingo #spnaubingo #castiel novak #dean winchester #sam winchester #tfw #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural au

44 notes · View notes

inopinion · 6 years

Note

Writing prompt: "would you give everything up, if it would save him?" "No."

Another prompt given to me pre-War Storm. Forgive the late delivery.

See Part 1 here…

@lilyharvord, @mareshmallow, @redqueenfandom, @anyone-anything-canbetrayanyone, @tiberias-vii, @runexandra, @mom2reesie, @scarletguardsource, @adraxsteia, @redqueenfandom, @wrenskonos, @Maria-habs, @cordelnight, @naercxy, @morebooks-pls, @lamemathpuns, @booksmusicmoviesandmore, @thespacebetweenthestars, @book-fandoms-rule-the-world, @juggyandbetty, @redqueen214, @giihmonzane13…

Remember, War Storm Spoilers are involved…

And reblog to share with a friend.

Paranoia isn’t an unfamiliar partner after what I’d been through, but I am certain it’s not just my damaged psyche nor the influence of the alcohol. People are watching us. Strangers that I don’t know crane their necks and track us off the dance floor. Each step becomes a stomp that defies their judgement–real or imaginary.

So close to him, I can’t imagine allowing enough space to do anything but test the strength of the thread holding his buttons. Cal is like no other lover I’ve ever had because there is.. was.. I guess is actual love between us. Has been, will be, forever. Some part of me belongs to him even if that part got left behind on a battlefield. Perhaps he carries it with him like I carry his earring. I’m eager to see if I can find it, the search will be fun enough of a reward.

Except, Farley looks at me like she looks at Clara when she’s headed for a collision with gravity. But I know she’ll let me fall and scrape my knees and cry just the same. Only Clara gets a cuddle and set back on her feet. Farley won’t patch the holes I tear into myself. We’ve been through too much together for me not to respect what that look means: slow down.

Just outside the door I stall. He slows to match. I swing my head around. He takes note of our surroundings. We stop entirely.

Cal is agitated, glaring at a gaping serving girl. He exudes enough warmth that I don’t think I’d need a coat even though it’s snowing. He tugs me, resigned to the gossips. But It doesn’t feel right leaving with him, not like it did before I saw Farley’s face.

“Door’s there. Or I guess we could find some place here to talk.” He waves around us. I swallow. There is no place in the palace without ears. “Second thoughts?” he asks, bitterness coating his tone as he internalizes my hesitation.

He drops my hand and runs his fingers through the curls on his head. It sticks up in weird ways showing exactly how long the top has gotten. I have a third thought, then a fourth, but that’s mostly the alcohol.

“Hey, I want to talk. We should talk. How often are we in the same place, right?” I cringe at his wince. I’m an expert at throwing salt in his wounds. “I just don’t think now is a good time. I mean, I have had more wine than I should. We deserve clear heads, right?”

He swallows, agrees because there’s no other option being given then we hastily make plans. He is scheduled in most of the same sessions as Farley. Almost an entire week completely booked from nine to six. Dinners with various councils and factions take up his nights. I can hear the unspoken conclusion: this is the only time he isn’t already booked.

“But you have to eat lunch, right?” I ask before he can suggest otherwise.

“Provided.”

“But it’s not scheduled. I mean, it isn’t for Farley. Can you get away for lunch? I know a cafe that makes nice sandwiches.”

“Okay, lunch, I guess. I get out of session at eleven-thirty, rejoin at one-fifteen. So, at best, ninety-minutes.”

“Plenty of time,” I respond.

Cal’s face falls. He looks as if he can’t breath, a feeling I know so well that I hurt for him. But I can’t quite fathom why he’s stricken when he never answered my last letter.

“If you’re not ready, that’s okay. It’s okay.” He doesn’t sound like he’s talking to me but to himself, assuring himself.

His chin snaps up in a court-trained posture. He’s let his emotions drip down his sleeves and he makes an effort to recover.

“I meant to start talking. I didn’t mean… I don’t know Cal. Don’t look at me like that.” I can’t help but snap at his neutral mask.

The muscle in his jaw flexes. His eyes are steady and controlled, his temperature moderated, and his voice even when he says, “Where is this cafe?”

Cal gives me whiplash when he squeezes my hand gently and pulls his lip up on one side. Regardless of how much time it is, or what gets said, or what he thinks I’ll say when we get there, we have a date. No, not a date. A meeting. It’s just a meeting, we’ll talk, catch up, trade war stories like other soldiers. We’ll see where he is and where I am. And it’s a fucking date, and I can’t help the surge of excitement.

I walk away, back to Farley who’s critiquing dancers on the floor with another Red General. I’m too caught up in how quickly my word choice crushed Cal to remember her name. One hand, he still likes me, obviously. On the other, he didn’t exactly strike me as emotionally stable. Then again, I almost broke down before dinner just from seeing him, so who am I to talk?

“Oh, you’re still here. Lovely, let’s leave,” Farley muses, flashing teeth.

“Leave? There’s still wine isn’t there?” I smirk as I snag another glass.

I don’t see Cal reenter the ballroom nor can I stop looking for him. I don’t even finish the glass. I hold it just to make Farley wait, which she does with expressive sighs and head rolls. Clara kept her up the night before, too excited about visiting grandma to sleep. But if I wasn’t a pain in Farley’s side, would she still think of me as a sister?

Wriggling out of ballgowns, even those so delicately tailored to my requests, is still a relief second only to a hot bath. Farley’s tub is not luxurious. It barely holds enough water to consider it a soak and my knees stick out if I want my shoulders in, but still, I fill it with water, bubbles and –for good measure– I drop Clara’s mersive and her battleship from eye height just to see them splash.

Between evasive maneuvers and using a bubble-cloud as a fog-storm, my mind veers off of elementary battle tactics and towards the more dangerous realm of silver princes. Ex-princes. Generals. Men.

Cal got upset so quickly I wonder if he expected to sweep me off the dance floor and back into his life. I very nearly left with him. I could have let him carry me out the door and to where ever he has a bed if only for a few more minutes of his warmth. But that was always our problem, too much chemistry and not enough math. We never added things up, not until the very end, and then we were both surprised when we couldn’t quite make it work. Bad analogy, I was never that great with math.

More like we’re two pieces so closely shaped that if you squinted, we fit together perfectly. But eyes wide open, at least when we last parted, there were gaps. We didn’t fit. I couldn’t keep squinting and neither could he.

Maybe I’ve managed to fill-in the right parts of me, and maybe he’s made himself into a new shape, too. That’s what I hoped time would give us. Walking away last night, seeking a clearer head, I don’t think I could have done that before. Surging with pride, I sink the mersive to strike the battleship from below.

“Don’t sleep all day,” Farley tosses something at me, it lands with a thud. She’s out the door before I can roll over.

Bundled together with a rubber-band are brochures, pamphlets, and adds from a newspaper all about jobs. Red retraining programs touting the achievement of a true education and a trade all in one. The Guard’s military brochure is a three page tri-fold with the benefits listed in bold, red letters on a white background. The Montfort pamphlets are similar but green and lack a navy. More describe the training to join the tech sectors in the old tech towns. I let them fall on the floor and flop back over.

It’s not that I don’t want a job, or that I don’t have one. I just don’t have one that pays money with any regularity. I can smell my mom’s complaining on the bold gesture. When we first got to our small town west of Ascendant, I helped Gisa set up her shop, read documents, kept the ledgers, took down orders. But Gisa learned to read and write and then there was little for me around the shop. Besides, my mom deserved the easy job of helping my sister. I haven’t held a steady job since. I’m unreliable. I’m flighty. I’m sensitive to sounds, fast movement, aggressive tones. At least Farley had the sense to offer me service positions, when I tell mom where I got the brochures, she’s gonna let Farley have it.

With a small pinch of joy, I fall back asleep imagining Farley’s face as my mother lectures her on getting me out of trouble and not into it.

The sun is high and the light is beautiful through the translucent drapes over the windows. They alternate purple and blue and cream creating shadows and casting color on the plain walls. I haven’t woken so rested in a long time, at least a month. My stomach growls.

I am hungry.

The sun is up, high in the sky.

Flying from the couch to the kitchen I squint through sleepy eyes at the clock and panic. There’s no time. I yank on pants, a mostly clean shirt and stuff my feet into boots. I squirt some tooth paste into my mouth and rinse with water. I am leaving five minutes later than I should. I run and it feels so good to be heading somewhere, to have the adrenaline, to chase that high all the way up the hill and down the other.

At the bottom of the hill, work crews struggle. Water pulses out of the storm drain onto the street. On the edges, it freezes into ice and builds up in layers as the waves come faster than the nymph can redirect. The silver isn’t very powerful and can do little more than redirect the water. The entire street is blocked.

I race up the hill to the road at the top and rush down half a block to the alley and then back down the hill. The detour forces me to loop around the building that holds the cafe. The clock on the bank across the street says it’s almost noon. I am nearly thirty minutes late, fifteen if he didn’t leave the council until eleven-thirty.

Through the door, I pause to watch. I want to see him without him knowing that I’m watching. I want to read him, how he is without me. How he is when he’s on his own and not a general or a lord of a high house. He looks stoically at the server behind the counter. His coat floats up as his arm pushes into it and pulls it on, preparing to leave. When the server looks away, he glances back at the table in the corner. Cal turns back, eyebrows drawn together, mouth looking pained. A few coins come out of his hand and fall in the tip jar. A bag is pushed across to him, his lunch to-go. I time it so that I walk through just as he turns to head out so I can clearly see his face.

He is appropriately disconcerted that his path is blocked, then his entire face lightens as he flushes. Blood rushes his cheekbones, he blushes into a pallor and a coy smile. Cal’s caught not knowing what to say, lips moving, tongue still. His eyes are so soft and kind and then concerned.

“Thought you might have gotten lost,” he lies.

“Nope. Just late.” I step forward.

For every two steps, he backs up one, leading me towards the table in the corner. He slips his jacket off and sets it on the chair, his back to the wall. I peel off my coat and drape it over the chair.

“I’ll just order, be right back.”

I order a sandwich, a cup of coffee, and an apple. Cal isn’t fast enough to look away when I glance over, but the fact that he tries confirms where his eyes were wondering. It’s nice to know he still appreciates me in that way. I hope we’re ready to consider something a little more. As weak as I am when it comes to him, I try to swear my self to a resolution: slow, steady, and not just for the sizzle.

“I over slept.”

“Ah, the troubles of the victors.” He teases, I think.

I don’t laugh, stuffing my mouth with a bite of food instead.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Not if you’re going to talk with your mouth full.”

The disgust on his face is real. That makes me laugh for real. I cover my mouth with my hand, somewhere between me and Mareena in my manners. He unwraps his sandwich.

“So?” I ask.

“So… how’s your family? Do they like Montfort?”

If he’s asked Farley then he should know, but it’s an easy enough topic to break the ice. He keeps me talking. He asks about everyone: mom, dad, Gisa, Bree, Tramie –no one is left out.

“And finally, Kilorn. What’s that fucker up to?”

There is no other way I would want someone to refer to Kilorn. For all he is, he is at his very heart a pain in the ass. An amazing, wonderfully loyal and insufferable friend. He has managed to endear himself not just to me and my family but to Farley, and Cameron, and even, apparently to Cal.

“Couldn’t keep him away from the water. He’s in the Nortan Navy. We get letters sometimes, mostly he’s bored. Sometimes he’s in trouble. But he’s always got a good group of people around him.”

“What ship?”

“The Cardinal.”

“I’ll keep tabs.” He holds my gaze and I know that even now, Cal will help keep Kilorn safe in what ever way he can, for me.

“Thanks.” I catch myself dry mouthed and tired lips. My coffee is cooling and my sandwich is only missing a few bites while his is all gone. I’ve talked so long. “What about you?”

“Well, you know. I’ve got fewer to look after, I guess it makes things dull.” He pushes quickly past the pain but I see it all the same. “I just keep my soldiers fit, ready, mind our posts.”

“You haven’t picked up a hobby?”

“I have, actually. I am becoming an expert at budgeting.” He smiles broadly, proud and cheerful in acknowledging his new position.

“Damn, did you have to cut back on the armor?” His eyes flick past me, again.

He’s been looking over my shoulder, at the door every few minutes. I turn and look. The door swings shut and a patron greets another at a table.

“You waiting for someone else?” I ask, turning back.

“No. I am here completely for you.” His eyes flick again and I hear the door shut again.

“Why you watching the door?”

“Nothing. Just a habit.”

He crushes the paper from his sandwich between his fists. I can still read him well and there’s shame in his posture. I glance behind me again, the suspicion that I’m sitting square in a trap flashes through me and the lightning comes to my fingertips.

“Easy, Mare.”

“You’re making me nervous. Why are you watching the door?”

“I’m… checking for assassins,” he barely mumbles. When the door opens again, I watch him fight his insticts then finally give in with a glance over my shoulder.

“Assassins? You’re not the King, Cal.”

“Yeah, well, some people forget. And the last time, I almost didn’t make it.”

Silence. Stillness. Processing is slow when someone you love is uncomfortable and embarrassed and admitting their weaknesses when they want you to think they’re strong. It made Kilorn shake under our house in the Stilts, and Maven dare me from his bathtub, and Cameron open up to me as we circled the Piedmont base. I want him to tell me more, trust me with what he finds shameful. So I wait and let him come to his words.

“The girl, the one the papers got a photo of me–”

“Kissing?”

“Yeah. She got me alone, um… and then she stabbed me.” Something about how his hands drop into his lap is defensive not casual, an indication of where. I wince with him. “I almost bled to death.”

“Who found you?” The idea that he had a couple suitors never crossed my mind before. But who else would come to find him in his bedroom?

“I didn’t let her get away without injury and she didn’t make it very far before the alarm was raised. Thank my colors, I had my bracelets on.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I sip my coffee and avoid looking directly at him. He’s ghostly pale he’s blushing from his collarbones to the tips of his ears. Some levity seems to be needed, I reach out and touch his hand. He looks up, shocked I’d touch him. “Most importantly, did they take care of that… um… curve?”

“Shut up. It is not curved.” he retracts, losing his breath in laughs.

“Well, I mean maybe not now. I wouldn’t blame you for taking advantage of the situation. I mean, making some improvements.”

“Surprised you didn’t say bigger.”

“Oh, honey, it’s not about the size. It’s how you use it.”

“And how was I at using it?” his knee brushes mine under the table and his lip pulls up goofy and flirting.

“You got better,” I begrudgingly admit after some contemplation.

“I’d happily remind you by how much.”

“I might just…” I stop myself. His lips slam shut. He straightens and clears his throat. I can’t finish what I’m saying.

“Sorry.” He looks at his watch and then back at the door. It’s time for him to return to sessions, discussions, strategies. “Time is up.”

“This was nice,” I admit. My hand is still on his on the table.

Warm fingers slide over mine until he’s gently massaging my palm. “I liked it.”

“Enough to say the past is forgiven?” I ask.

“You never needed forgiveness from me.”

“Didn’t I?” I hold his eyes steady, not letting him look away. For the first time since we sat down, I’m being completely serious. I need to know what might follow us forward.

“What for?” He asks.

“Just one question, one honest question. If you could go back and do it all over again, if you could just flip me that coin and walk away? And I never fall into that arena, would you go back?” I can’t bring myself to use the words, but I need to know if he will live his life regretting meeting me because, in the end, and actually at the beginning, I took his brother.

Cal pulls back, leans against the chair. “Julian says it’s the curse on the survivors to spend our time trying to remake our regrets.”

It’s a non-answer that might as well be a yes. I start to stand, tears prickling. Laughing with him, hearing him sigh, and joke reminds me of too many things I want to keep. But I don’t want to be a reminder of all that he lost. Why he lost everything.

“Mare, I have a lot of regrets. But you’re not one of them. Elara would have ruined him no matter the path. Maybe I could have had a few more years, or a few months, but she would have taken him in the end. Jon only knows, but I tend to think this might have been the best I could have hoped for, at least the way it happened, I didn’t go through it alone.”

“So, where does that leave us?”

He stands and pulls on his jacket. He takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “How about same time tomorrow?”

And the next day and the next. We have one week of sessions and meetings before he’s back on a plane to Norta. And it’s exactly the slow pace I need, that we need, to see exactly where we’ve grown and what we’ve left behind. Maybe at the end, we’ll find that we finally fit. Or maybe it answers the question differently, with less pain, fewer choices to rehash that never asking in the first place.

Reblogs appreciated.

#Anonymous #War Storm Spoilers #Red queen Fanfiction #marecal #my writing #fanfiction #mare barrow #cal calore #war storm #red queen

157 notes · View notes

waywardnerd67 · 6 years

Text

Help Me to Remember

Summary: (Y/N) knew the Winchesters since they were kids. After her husband left her, she called the brothers needing a place to disappear too. Over the next few years of living with them Dean notices changes within her and tries to help her remember the old her. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff/Comforting & Protective Dean Word Count: 4655 A/N: I have been dealing with a lot of feelings concerning my ex-husband and relationships. This is my way of getting those feelings out of me. The details of what happens between reader and the ex-husband are all true stories of what I went through. I just wish I had a Dean to come and comfort me… oh well. As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

(Y/N) sat across from her friend, Morgan, as they ate lunch. Morgan had dragged her out from her room that she was staying in with her after five days of not leaving their apartment. She took a bite of her burger as Morgan was looking down at her phone. “Holy crap…” she said looking up at (Y/N). Morgan picked up her phone and handing it to her. (Y/N) looked down seeing her ex-husband kissing a man in the Pride Parade downtown. Her stomach churned and her hands began to shake slightly. She always knew deep down one day he would come out being gay, but seeing it was something she was not prepared for. “Are you okay?” Morgan asked. (Y/N) nodded handing her phone back, “Yeah. It’s not like we all didn’t suspect it already. I’m glad he is finally comfortable enough to be himself.” Morgan stared at her knowing she was not being completely honest but letting the subject drop.

That night (Y/N) lied awake in bed her mind buzzing with thoughts. The last few years after her divorce she had loss an older sister to cancer, her father and two jobs she loved more than anything. Currently, she was unemployed and living with Morgan rent free because when it had been Morgan going through a tough time she had been there for her. (Y/N) sat up grabbing her phone and looking up her ex’s social media profile looking over the last few years of his life since they were divorced. He took trips, became closer with his family, had a great job, graduated with his Master’s and now was in a relationship with a man. (Y/N) was not upset that he was gay because she truly wanted him to be happy in his life. No, she was upset he did not take the out she gave him a week before their wedding.

(Y/N) sat in their bedroom with his laptop on the bed. Her computer had died so Justin said she could use his whenever she wanted. He had left a browser open after he last used it before going to his bowling league that had was an erotic gay story. It had not been the first time she had seen him looking at gay porn and when she had confronting him then he said he was curious but that he loved her. He wanted to be with her and found her beautiful. As he walked in their bedroom, he knew something was going on since she was still up. “Hey (Y/N), what’s going on?” She turned the computer around for him to see, “You left this up. I think we need to have a serious conversation about this.” Justin sighed turning away from her. “You know I’m just curious about it.” (Y/N) got up so he would face her. “I know, but you know I don’t want to be in an open relationship or have another person in bed with us. It’s just not my thing. I think if this is something you truly want to explorer then we shouldn’t get married. If this,” she pointed to the computer, “is what you want then I can’t give that to you. I just want you to be happy and if that’s not with me then it’s fine we can end things on good terms. I don’t want us to get married and then end up hating each other.” Justin pulled her into his arms hugging her tightly. “I want to be with you and only you. This means nothing to me and you mean everything to me. Okay?” She nodded as he kissed her and they got ready for bed.

Thinking back on that night, (Y/N) was more upset at herself for not being strong enough to leave. She knew he did not want to be with her and was just keeping up appearances. Now she was paying for that mistake and lost seven years of her life. The more she focused on what she should have done the more upset she was getting. (Y/N) wanted nothing more than to run away from the city she had lived in all her life. Run away from her messed up, pathetic life. Morgan and her mom were the only people she cared about and she knew they would understand her leaving to start new. She swung her legs over her bed and found the one person she knew she could call at any time day or night. “Hey Dean, where are you guys?” she asked once she heard his husky voice on the other end.

Three years later

(Y/N) was laying on her bed in the Bunker listening to her music as she finished up another chapter for her novel. She stretched out resting her head on her arm and closed her eyes letting the music fill her ears. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt someone else was in her room. She turned over seeing one of her best friends from childhood, Dean Winchester, leaning against her door frame. She took off her headphones and gave him a soft smile, “Hey there.” He pushed off the door frame, “Hey there yourself. I was thinking maybe we could go for a drive. It’s a nice day out we could hit the road, listen to some tunes with the windows opened. Hit a diner or a bar or both. What do you say?” She sat up looking down at her hands. The panic spreading throughout her chest making it to where she was having trouble breathing slightly. Dean had been asking her to hang out a lot lately and she always declined for one reason or another.

He sat down next to her, “Come on (Y/N/N). You need to get out of this Bunker. I’m starting to worry about you.” She looked up seeing the concern in his olive eyes. Sighing she nodded, “Okay Dean, I’ll go for a drive with you. I’ll meet you in the garage in fifteen minutes.” Dean smiled brightly at her getting up. “Great!” He started to walk out when he stopped at her closet pulling something out of it. “You should wear this. You always look great in tank-tops.” She rolled her eyes at him taking the navy tank-top out of his hands. She changed into a pair of jeans, the tank-top and her favorite pair of Converse. When she looked in the mirror she shuddered seeing how tight the tank-top was on her. Over the last few years she had developed a complex about showing off her body. She had an hourglass shape and was full figured but the more she was covered up the more comfortable she was being in public. She grabbed one of Dean’s flannels she had stolen while doing laundry and instantly felt as ease.

She was walking into the garage when she overheard Dean talking with his brother Sam. “She’s getting worse Sammy.” She heard how tense Dean’s voice sounded. “Dude, she’s been through a lot between losing family members and then finding out about Justin.” Dean growled which brought a smile to her face. “I swear to Chuck I should have killed that guy before they ever got married.” She heard Sam chuckle, “Dean, just go easy on her. She will come around in her own time. Just don’t push her or anything…” Sam voice drifted off and (Y/N) peeked around the corner seeing the brothers staring at one another. “Sam, what are you…” Sam gave Dean a pointed look as Dean scoffed. “I know you have feelings for her. You always have since we were kids but I’m telling you don’t push too hard.” Dean nodded leaning against the Impala and (Y/N) decided to walk into the garage catching their attention.

(Y/N) held her arm out the window as they cruised down the highway. She had picked out one of Dean’s Led Zeppelin Mixes to play and he was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. Hearing that Dean had feelings for her since they were kids stirred something within her that she thought was buried so far down she forgot about it. She looked over to him and really looked at him. Sure, she had always found him attractive, but she knew with his life he did not like attachments. She never allowed herself to feel anything towards him. She looked at his short dirty blond hair that was fluffier than normal. His green eyes always showed exactly what he was feeling no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Dean’s cheeks and nose were decorated with adorable freckles that were standing out more since it was summer time. His shoulders, arms and chest were all firm and strong giving him an intimidating stature. His stomach was soft and his waist narrow giving the illusion he was small when he was not. Dean’s long bowlegs carried the weight of not only his physical body but also every burden he held onto.

(Y/N) could feel her cheeks burn and a dull ache in the pit of her stomach that she had not felt in a long time. However, it was his hands that did her in. So many times, she had felt his large callous hands run down her arms or over her cheeks. The roughness of his hands gliding over the smoothness of her skin brought goosebumps over her. She shivered slightly pulling at the sleeves of her shirt. “You okay over there?” Dean’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, “I’m fine. Was just daydreaming.” He chuckled and turned the music slightly, “Anything you care to share?” He asked as she shook her head. “Nope, going to keep it all to myself.” She said in a sing-song voice then turned to look out her window. They pulled into a diner right outside of Kansas City and (Y/N) got out of the car stretching all her limbs. She glanced over seeing Dean watching her closely. “What?” she asked as he shook his head, “Nothing, just nothing.” He threw his arm around her shoulders as they walked inside being seated at a booth.

She was looking at the menu when their waiter came to their table. “What can I get you all to drink?” She looked up at him seeing him smiling down at her and she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Just water for me.” She averted her eyes back to the menu as Dean ordered a soda. “(Y/N)?” she glanced up seeing Dean’s questioning look. She closed the menu shrugging and fidgeted with her sleeves. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having if you could order that for me. I’ll be right back.” She said quickly getting up and making her way towards the bathroom, but she noticed their waiter standing by it so she darted out the entrance of the diner. She felt the tightness in her chest starting to subside as she walked around the open parking lot. Her panic attacks were coming on quicker than ever before in public places. It started about a year after her divorce when she agreed to go out on a date with someone online. Days leading up to it she began having panic attacks until finally she cancelled the date altogether. Now, anytime she was in public places panic would rest on her chest feeling like an elephant sitting on it.

(Y/N) walked up to the Impala and sat on the hood. She put her head in her hands trying to calm herself down. She snapped her head up with she felt a hand on her back and saw Dean looking at her concerned. “Hey, what happened?” She shook her head and went to get off the car when Dean stood in front of her keeping her in her spot. “I’m fine Dean, let’s just go back inside.” He placed his hands on either side of her face his eyes staring into hers. “I ordered our food to go so we could get back on the road since it’s obvious you’re not comfortable being here. You get in the car and I’ll grab the food then we will find a spot to sit, eat and talk about what is going on. Deal?” (Y/N) could feel tears welling up in her eyes as she nodded and Dean helped her off the hood of his car. He quickly pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “Whatever is going on you can tell me about it. I’m always here for you, (Y/N/N).” He kissed the top of her head and then headed back inside to grab their food.

Dean drove them to a nearby park and they sat at a picnic table by a lake. They ate in silence enjoying the warm breeze and peacefulness of the calm lake. (Y/N) was hopeful Dean forgot about everything that had happened at the diner and would not bring it up. Dean had taken their trash and came back sitting next to her. “So, you want to explain what happened at the diner?” She sighed resting her head on her hand, “Seriously Dean, it was nothing.” He shook his head, “No it wasn’t nothing. You acted like you were scared. Since you came to live with us at the Bunker you have changed. You never want to come hang out with us and you seclude yourself to your room. Just when I think I see a glimpse of the old (Y/N) you retreat into yourself ten times more than before. So, talk to me.” The tone of his voice struck a chord with her. He was stern, but his eyes were filled with worry.

“I don’t like being out in public. I don’t like being around people anymore. I feel more comfortable when I’m alone, in my room and writing. When I am out in public I tend to have panic attacks. Sometimes I can manage them but today was just one of those times I couldn’t.” Her chest felt lighter admitting to Dean how she felt, but she knew that telling him everything would be a mistake. She noticed his fists clenched on the table, “Does this have to deal with Justin?” he asked. She did not know how to answer that without telling him everything. “I guess so. Really, I don’t know. People change through their lives and this must be one of those times for me.” He looked over to her and she knew he did not believe her. “Tell what really happened between you and Justin. All of it.” (Y/N)’s chest ached as panic set in. She took a deep breath trying to calm herself down. Dean straddled the bench and pulled her up against him holding her tightly, “I’m not going anywhere, (Y/N/N). Just talk to me like we used to when we were teenagers.” She sighed leaning into him.

“I knew something was off between Justin and I before we got married. I caught him on some porn sites all the time when I would have to beg him to have sex with me. After we talked about it with him reassuring me that he was in love with me and wanted me, I found he was looking at gay porn. He looked at it all the way up until a week before we got married. I gave him an out telling him if that is what made him happy then I couldn’t give that to him. Once again, he promised me that I was the love of his life and he wanted a family with me. We got married and then I found more porn on his laptop during our honeymoon.” She snickered wiping the tears coming down her cheeks as the memory of her honeymoon popped into her head.

She felt Dean’s body tensing up with every word she spoke. “During our honeymoon, I dressed up in something sexy for him and he ignored me. He told me that he didn’t drive four hours just to have sex with me. I should have known then it wasn’t going to end well between us, but I fooled myself into thinking that if I became the perfect wife he would change. I thought if we had a baby he would change. I was wrong on all of it. So, we split up and he told me he would always be there for me no matter what. That lasted for a month and then he and his family never spoke to me again. He bounced back into a great life so easily after getting rid of me. He never suffered through any of it while I suffered through the whole damn thing. The night I called you, I found out that he had finally come out as gay and was happily in a relationship. Something inside of me snapped, Dean. Like everything inside of me telling me that I was worthy of anything just vanished. I know there was nothing I could have done about him being gay and I’m truly happy for him being able to be who he truly has always felt he was. Knowing now, that I was stupid enough to stay in a relationship where he manipulated, pushed and bullied me around on top of being a cover up for him broke me. I’m broken Dean and there is no mending me back.” (Y/N) was shaking by the time she finished and she needed to move away from him.

She got up quickly and started walking on the trail as fast as she could. Soon enough she was sprinting down it further into a wooded area. She could hear Dean yelling out for her but she did not stop until the sobs from her chest broke the silence of the woods. She leaned against a tree breathing heavily and crying. Dean caught up to her, “Damn woman you can run.” She knew he was trying to make her laugh but she did not have it in her. All the pain she had been bottling up inside of her for six years was pouring down her face. Dean went to touch her but she held out her hands, “Don’t. Please don’t. As much as I don’t like being around people I hate being touched even more. I just stirs up the panic in me and makes my skin crawl.” She unconsciously rubbed her arms and then wrapped them around herself. She watched Dean stepped back and walked over to the next tree punching it as hard as he could.

She gasped seeing how angry he was and she slid down to the ground hugging her knees to her chest. “I swear to Chuck if I ever see Justin again I will kill him. I thought he had just broken your heart but he broke your beautiful soul too. I should hunt him down and break everything of his.” She watched Dean rant as the voice inside her head repeated that all of this was her fault. “(Y/N), crap. I’m sorry, I’m not mad or upset with you. None of this is your fault, sweetheart.” He approached her cautiously sitting down in front of her. “Hey, why don’t we stay here for the night? We’ll find a fancy hotel, order room service and watch movies all night.” She looked up at him nodding as he stood up and held out his hand to help her up. She hesitantly put her hand in his and he pulled her up making sure she had plenty of space between them. They walked back to the Impala and (Y/N) curled up in her seat laying her head against the door as Dean found them a hotel to stay at.

When they walked into their room she chuckled looking around the fancy suite. They had a mini bar, big screen tv and two couches in the living area. Walked through double doors into the bedroom with a king size bed, another big screen tv and a large bathroom with a two person tub and shower. Dean had extra clothes in a bag in the Impala that he brought up so (Y/N) could have something to sleep in. She took the bag in the bathroom with her and turned on the shower while Dean was ordering them dinner. (Y/N) let the hot water wash over her as she ran her hands over her body. She missed the comforting feeling of being held. She missed the feeling of kissing someone and having someone wanting her. The more she thought about all the things she missed about being with someone the only person that kept popping up in her mind.

She walked out of the bathroom wearing only her tank-top and the shorts from Dean’s bag. She leaned against the doorframe looking at Dean as he was talking on his phone sitting on the bed. “Sammy, stop worrying. We’ll be home tomorrow. Now if you don’t mind my burger is getting cold. Goodbye Sam.” She chuckled as he turned towards her. She watched as his eyes traveled the length of her body and he bit his lower lip. He shook his head slightly and patted the bed, “Come on, our dinner is getting cold.” Their trays sat between them as they watched ‘Tombstone’ on AMC. Dean quoted the whole movie making (Y/N) laugh. He collected their empty trays setting them on the cart and wheeling it out into the hallway. Casablanca came on next which was one of (Y/N)’s favorite movies that she had not seen in a long time. She avoided any kind of romantic movies as much as she could. She could feel her chest tighten just as Dean walked back in the bedroom. “Okay, let’s see what else is on.” He said but (Y/N) grabbed the remote from him, “Keep this on. I want to watch it.” He looked over at her setting the remote down. “Are you sure? I figured after this afternoon…” She nodded as they both settled in on their sides of the bed.

(Y/N) was hardly paying attention to the movie as her mind was racing. She glanced over seeing Dean stretched out on the bed his arms tucked behind his head. His hair was all tussled and his shirt was riding up his stomach revealing his hip bones. She bit her lip trying to push down the panic rising in her chest as her brain tried to convince her body to move closer to Dean. (Y/N) took a deep breath and scooted over to Dean resting her head on his chest and putting one of her arms around his waist. “(Y/N)?” Dean asked as she pressed her body against his. She grabbed the remote and muted the tv, “Thank you for being there for me. You’ve always been there for me.” He brought his arms down resting one around her back and the other on top of her arm around his waist. “No matter what the dickwad did or said to you I will always be here for you. Anything I can do to help get you back to the (Y/N) you were before him just let me know.” He hugged her tightly as they laid there silently.

(Y/N) looked up at him resting on her elbow. “It’s weird for me. The thought of being with someone terrifies me. Literally, I can feel the panic suffocating even thinking about it. When I am alone in my room I began to miss it all. I miss being held, kissed, wanted by someone. I feel like I’m this awkward teenager again learn how to flirt or being around boys.” Dean chuckled as she sat up and he rested his back against the headboard. “Do you remember learning how to kiss?” He asked as she laughed. “You mean, you begging me to practice with you after your time at the boys’ home?” He started laughing with her. “It’s almost like I dreamt everything. I can remember wanting to feel close to someone. To want to touch someone and press my body against theirs. To feel my body, heat up and desire cloud my senses.” She looked into Dean’s eyes seeing them turn a dark shade of green. For the first time, instead of her chest aching it was only her heart.

(Y/N) reached up hesitantly running her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes tilting his head into her touch. She moved straddling his hips resting her hands on his shoulders. His hands gripped her thighs as he took a deep breath, “(Y/N) …” He whispered as she leaned her forehead against his. “Help me to remember my old self. The one who would cuddle with you while you researched a case. The one who made out with you so that you could impress girls with your kissing skills. Help me to remember the woman I was before I was broken.” She leaned forward pressing her lips against his but he did not kiss her back. She pulled away quickly looking at him and the embarrassment of making a move on him flooded her body. She got off him and moved out to the living as he was right behind her. “(Y/N) wait!” He called out as she shook her head. “No Dean, it’s alright. I get it. You don’t want to be with someone like me. It was stupid of me to even think you would want to be with me. I mean look at me,” She pointed to her, “I’m nothing. I’m less than nothing. I’ll just sleep on the couch and then we can go back to the Bunker like nothing happened.”

As she was ranting, Dean came up behind her and turned her around crashing his lips down on hers. She tried to push him away but he held onto her tightly. She relax against him as he pulled away from her. “Don’t ever say you are nothing. (Y/N), you are everything to me and it kills me to see what that asshat has turned you into. You kissing me took me by surprise and if anything is going to happen between us then I want it to be done right. You deserve to be wine and dine properly. Hell, you deserve the ground to be worshiped that you walk on. I don’t want to rush into anything or screw this up because I only have enough blood to flow one direction and currently that’s south.” (Y/N) chuckled as Dean hugged her. “Dean, I trust you with everything. I… I need this though. I need to know that I can still feel this way with another person. I need to know if I’m permanently damaged or if I can be fixed. If anyone can fix me it would be you.”

(Y/N) looked up at him through her long lashes seeing the internal debate he was having. “Please Dean, I need you.” She whispered and that was all it took for him to pick her up wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing her. Her hands went up into his hair as he carried her back into the bedroom. (Y/N) felt the panic in her chest tighten but as she felt Dean’s lips trail down her neck desire was replacing the panic. Dean gently laid her onto the bed and hovered over her slowly laying on her top of her. His body on top of hers was like a comfort blanket instantly making her panic go away. His hand traveled down her side resting on her thigh, “(Y/N) are you sure?” He asked against her lips. She nodded, “Please Dean.” The rest of the night Dean showed her how being with the right person was supposed to feel. The next morning, waking up in his arms she felt nothing but love and happiness within her. He had helped her to remember who she was and he would never let her forget again.

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @waywardrose13 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @ericaprice2008 @mirandaaustin93 @spnbaby-67 @time-travel-bouqet @1967-essentialghoul @weirdoblogger69 @dwgrl1903

41 notes · View notes