The Thing that always gets to me most about this part of Dean’s life and the flashbacks in this particular episode is how for the time Dean spent at Sonny’s Dean felt comfortable enough to let his guard down a bit (not completely of course, but you could see he was happy) and actually for once went after what he himself wanted to do. He embraced this “time off”, enjoyed normality and was allowed to be a teenager without having to worry about his father or feeling responsible for his little brother, Dean was just Dean. Not a kid expected to be an adult. And that’s what I love about Sonny. He never judged Dean, never pressured him in any way, but made perfectly sure that Dean knew that he was there if he needed him (like a true father figure and parent would), that he would have his back and most of all he told Dean that Dean made him “proud” and that little world carries such tragedy, because the show has gone out of its way to imply that this is something Dean has not been told by his true father too often, after all Dean was assured that his dad wasn’t his dad when he told him that he was “proud of him”. What is so tragic and heartbreaking about this episode is that Dean was able to re-experience and re-gain a certain kind of childhood and innocence at Sonny, experiences care and unconditional parental love and he lost all of it again with the honk of a car horn…
WHO???? (because it sure as heck wasn’t Mr. ‘Youngjae-is-mine-and-you-can’t-even-dream-about-him’ Jaebum)
But seriously WHAT THE ACTUAL FRICKITY-FRACK???? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO PULL, CHOI YOUNGJAE??? WHAT’S YOUR GAME??? (You want me to explode???? Well. Done. akhdKLDHAKLHA)
I mean, I thought it was bad enough when he posted that tank-top selca back in November with all that skin and that look at the camera and just….
AND THEN HE STARTED PULLING THAT CRAP WITH THE FLIRTY BED SELCAS LIKE
I never signed up for this. I was perfectly content with him being gorgeous and handsome and precious and adorable and NOT A KING OF PROBLEMATIC SELCAS.
AND THEN HE SHOWS UP AND THROWS THIS AT ME????
I just…. he just…… this just…….. there are five moles visible right there AND THREE OF THEM ARE ON HIS NECK AND SHOULDER and my brain can NO LONGER COMPUTE BYE.
Listen. I am all for an appreciation for how gorgeous Youngjae is, but COULD HE HAVE TONED IT DOWN JUST A LITTLE BIT??? I mean. We’re talking about his eyes being all cute and gorgeous and aimed right at us, and that’s enough already, but then he’s got his adorable nose looking even more precious upside-down, and his precious little ears being so incredibly cute and totally visible next to his TWO-TONED HAIR STYLE THAT LOOKS SO GOOD??? AND HIS JAWLINE LOOKING SO NICE EVEN WITH THE WEIRD FILTER??? AND THEN HIS LIPS BEING ALL PINK AND POUTY AND JUST—no. I can’t. And we hAVEN’T EVEN GOTTEN PAST HIS FACE YET. ANON. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME??? I’VE BEEN TRYING TO REPRESS THIS IN ORDER TO LIVE AND NOW. That neckline. That nape. Those collarbones. Those broad shoulders. THOSE FRICKING MOLES BEING ALL THERE AND VISIBLE AND ADORABLE AND– I don’t have a thing about his moles. What are you talking about?
I’m not okay, anon. Why does he do this to me? Why??
Dean: Hmm. You know, there’s not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue. Sam: Demonic possession? Dean: It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch. Sam: If the guy was possessed, it’s possible. Dean: This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it’s one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?….. I don’t know, man. This isn’t our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don’t want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.
That coaches fic was brilliant buy it made me think. We've seen Chris and Victor being crazy and extra whereas phichit and yuuri are more subtle. How about a story where it's revealed that the two were arrested for like destruction of property or some other stupid prank while they were drunk and Celestine has to bail them out. And this comes to light when they run into the police officer at an event in detroit?
“Can you believe it? He wanted a live band
to play while he skated. A LIVE ROCK BAND!” Alain groaned while rubbing his
forehead, while the other three males at the table hid snickers of amusement
behind their classes of beer.
“That isn’t allow,” Lilia said ever so
softly while frowning at the destressed Canadian, “Right?”
“Exactly!” Alain shouted.
“It’s okay, Alain, we have all dealt with
troublesome skaters,” Josef said while patting the upset Canadian shoulders.
“Everyone but Celestino,” Yakov mumbled.
“Hey!” Celestino said while raising an
eyebrow, “Where did you get that impression?”
“Your ‘horror’ stories are mild at best,”
Josef pointed out.
“Media scandals are your most common
complain about your Thai Prince,” Alain pointed out.
“Phichit isn’t a prince. Don’t let him hear
you say that,” Celestino said seriously before taking a large sip of his drink.
“I am interested to hear what type of
complaints you have for your skaters that doesn’t involve social media,” Lilia
spoke up, getting hums of agreement from the three other male coaches.
“Any of you ever had to bail any of your
skaters out of jail?” Celestino questioned, causing the table to go quiet.
“Jail?” Alain questioned in surprise.
“Yep. When I was in America with Phichit
and Yuuri, they got themselves arrested,” Celestino sighed deeply.
“Dare I ask why?” Lilia questioned with a
Celestino opened his mouth, only to pause
and let out a loud sigh.
“God, it is such a stupid story,” Celestino
mumbled more to himself than his fellow.
“Now I really want to hear this,” Alain
mumbled, earning a chuckle from Josef.
“Simply, it involved alcohol, spray cans and
government property,” Celestino said with a sigh.
“That sounds,” Yakov started before
trailing off, letting out a sigh and shaking his head.
“Boys will be boys,” Lilia pointed out,
earning a deep sigh for Celestino.
“You say that, Miss Lilia, but my boys aren’t
wild child’s unless alcohol is involved,” Celestino insisted while lifting up
his beer and slamming it down onto the table again.
“Do explain,” the former prima ballerina said,
waving her hand in a circular motion.
“Hold on a second,” Josef spoke up, “The
drinking age in America is twenty-one.”
“That it is,” Celestino said with a nod.
“Thai Prince isn’t twenty-one,” Alain
continued, earning a nod from Josef.
“I’m well aware,” Celestino groaned.
“Okay, I really need to hear this story
now,” Alain said while catching a waitress as she hurried passed and ordered another
round of drinks for the table.
“Yuuri had just turned twenty-one,” Celestino
started before pausing to finish his beer which was half spilt across the
table. “And gave them both a weekend off, let Yuuri experience adulthood, you
Celestino paused and gave the other four
coaches at the table a pleading look, clearly wanting them to agree with him.
“I did give Victor the weekend after his
eighteen off,” Yakov mumbled.
“Do not remind me,” Josef mumbled with a
sigh, “The current skating legend took my sweet, innocent Chris out clubbing.
When he was underage!”
“Chris is far from sweet and innocent,”
“I would have to agree. I feel like out of
Victor and Chris, Victor is the more… innocent one,” Lilia piped up, earning a
hum of agreement from Celestino and Alain.
“Okay, back to my story,” Celestino said as
new drinks were brought to the table.
“So, gave the boys the weekend off, expecting Yuuri to
go out with a few friends, experience alcohol and swear himself off the liquids
for life. But no,” Celestino shook his head with a pained look on his face, “No,
Phichit – somehow – gets his hands on a fake ID and convinces Yuuri to go out
clubbing with him.”
“Doesn’t sound that bad yet,” Josef said
while helping the waitress collect all the empty glasses.
“Did I mention that Yuuri is a horrible
drunk?” Celestino asked while glancing around the table.
“I was at the banquet,” Yakov sighed.
“I’ve heard all about that banquet,” Alain
“Do not remind me,” Josef sighed while
shaking his head.
“What banquet?” Lilia questioned, earning a
groan from Josef.
“Last years. Yuuri Katsuki got drunk, pole
danced with Chris and somehow convinced Victor to be his coach, half naked
might I point out,” Alain said with a bright smile.
“I… see,” Lilia said while slowly nodding
“Yuuri isn’t a good drunk. It runs in the
family,” Celestino explained with a weak smile, “Anyway, Phichit and Yuuri went
out clubbing. Somehow, after getting kicked out of the club, for fighting, they
somehow appeared sober enough to buy spray cans.”
“And then they vandalised some state propriety?”
“Three police cars, a state library, the seventh
floor of a popular hotel,” Celestino listed off, only to pause when Yakov held
up a hand.
Being Happy Lowman’s girlfriend was probably the hardest job in SAMCRO - greatest risk, littlest reward - but you cherished that mean old fool with every ounce of your being.
Your story was almost a fairytale, if Prince Charming had a snake tattoo on his head and kept his body count tatted on him as a reminder of how deadly he was, rode a Harley, was in an MC, rarely smiled, and fucked much harder than ever necessary.
Technically you guessed the similarities ended with him rescuing you. He had done so from a would-be rapist and brought you to the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse until he could ‘handle’ the problem. The night he saved you was the same night you learned about his tattoos and what they meant.
When he took you to his room at the club, innocently enough just to show you where you could sleep for the night, your gratitude had been shown in the form of a kiss, which turned into a grope, which turned into sex.
It had been 4 months since he found out you had nowhere to go and offered you a place in his home. Although nobody around his MC seemed to believe it was possible for anyone to be in a relationship with Happy Lowman, the two of you made it work and somewhere along the way you had fallen secretly in love with the man people referred to as The Tacoma Killer.
You woke up like any other morning, without Happy beside you because he was already up for the day, and probably had been for hours. You walked into the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee before realizing that Happy’s wallet and keys were still on the table. Peeking out the into the garage, you found your lover sitting in the middle of the garage, his back to you, the reaper on his vest staring into your eyes while it’s wearer was tinkering with his bike. He must’ve been messing with the brakes from what you could tell. You stepped out onto the cold concrete floor, barefooted and still wearing your pajama shorts and tank top that you had slept in last night.
“Good morning handsome,” you cooed and Happy looked over his shoulder at you and grunted his good morning to you.
“Want some more coffee? Anything to eat?” you asked as his hands worked meticulously on the front wheel of his bike.
“I’m fine babe,” he rasped, not looking up from his job.
“Oh… Okay…” you spoke with mild defeat in your voice. You had wished for a little more attention from your old man than you were getting, “Well I’ll leave you alone then,” you sighed turning to walk back into the kitchen.
“Hey,” his voice called and you froze, your hand on the doorknob and your back to him.
“Come here,” he demanded and you obliged, turning around and stepping to his now standing frame which was facing you. He lifted a hand to your chin, lifting your face so he could lean down and press a kiss into your lips.
“I gotta make a trip up to Tacoma today,” he spoke once he pulled away from you, “I’m leaving soon. Be back in a couple days.”
Since Happy had ties in Tacoma, he was always Clay’s first choice to send North when he needed something done. You hated being left behind, but since you were an old lady you weren’t involved in club business much, and it wasn’t allowed for you to tag along.
“I’ll miss you,” you gave him a half smile, looking up into his deep brown eyes, so dark you couldn’t see his pupils without focusing.
The shadow of a smile ghosted across his face as he leaned back into you, his lips landing on yours again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. Happy wasn’t the sweetest or most romantic in the world but he was definitely the best kisser in the world, you would bet anything on that.
He picked you up, turning around and placing you on the seat of his bike, sideways so your legs both hung off the left side, as he settled between them. He placed his palms on the gas tank and fender as he moved his lips to your neck and you held his shoulders to steady yourself.
He moved his hands to tug at the hem of your tank top, sliding it up over your head to expose your bare breasts which he quickly attended to with his mouth. You moaned at the stimulation and he tugged your bottoms off as you pulled at his belt, unbuckling it and letting his jeans drop to the floor. He stood straight, looking down at you as he stepped out of his jeans completely, pulling them over his boots and tossing them aside before reaching to take off his kutte and the grey shirt underneath.
“No!” you whined and he looked down at you with a frown, “Leave the kutte on,” you sucked in your bottom lip and bit it with a shy grin, something that drove Happy wild as he growled, leaving his kutte on and dropping to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs.
You moaned and tossed your head back when his tongue met your core, licking long flat-tongued stripes through your folds as his fingers kept your legs open and dug into your thighs. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, flicking his tongue against it from inside his mouth and pushing a finger inside you, eating you out until you came hard and fast, grabbing his head and pulling it into your core as your body shook.
Happy pulled his face back and spit, his saliva dripping down you as he stood and pulled his dick from his boxers, returning to his position between your legs and grabbing the back of your neck to hold you forward. As he was staring in your eyes, he ran the tip of his cock up and down your slit, spreading the mixture of your juices and his spit at your entrance. He lined himself up and pushed inside you with a groan which was matched by your sharp intake of breath as he stretched you open.
You reached your hand up to hold onto his wrist that was holding onto your neck for support and you caught a flicker of his devilish grin right before you closed your eyes. It didn’t matter how many times the two of you had sex, him entering you and filling you completely was a feeling you would always enjoy. He began to stroke into you as his free hand secured itself to your hip, gripping tighter as he thrusted into you with urgency and your hand left his wrist to grip the handlebar of his bike.
You used your other hand to hook a finger in the collar of his shirt and pull him down to you. Biting his bottom lip gently, his panting breaths danced across your face and he kissed you again, his hand on your neck sliding down and wrapping around your back as he leaned down to bury his face in your neck and pound into you as roughly as always.
You remembered how some of the croweaters had complained in the past, before you became his girl of course, about how sore they would be after a night with him…as if it was an inconvenience.
You, on the other hand, loved it, the way he made you feel as his dick punched into you, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed until he found them.
You attached your lips to his ear, biting and licking as he held onto you tightly and moved in and out of you. His breathing was getting more ragged with each thrust and you knew he would reach his orgasm soon so you whispered and moaned into his ear a series of compliments, “Oh baby you make me feel so good.”
“I love this dick so much Hap.”
“You’re so fucking sexy when you fuck me,” until he reached up and grabbed you by the hair, pulling out of you and pushing your face to his dick as he huffed and you wrapped your lips around his shaft, sucking him in and out until you felt him brace himself against the tank of his bike and his release found him, his cock throbbing and shooting his cum onto your tongue as he watched you swallow it all and suck him off some more for good measure.
“God damn,” he sighed as you finally released his member and stood up to face him, wiping your mouth with your hand as you grinned up at him. He pulled his boxers back up and kissed your forehead, reaching down to grab his jeans as you grabbed your pajamas and slipped them back on.
“I’m gonna miss you too, you know,” his voice was still deep and growling, but there was a hint of softness in his tone that made you look back up at him to catch a smile on his face. He didn’t smile often, so when he did it sent tingles up your spine.
You threw yourself into his arms again and buried your face in his chest as you giggled, and he held you closely.
“I love you, (Y/N),” he whispered and your eyes shot open with surprise, he had never said that before.
“I love you too Happy,” you squeaked as the excitement of your first ‘I love yous’ overcame your emotions and he placed a kiss into the top of you head, swaying you back and forth in the garage beside the blacked out Harley the two of you had just defiled.