Warnings: Smut, sexting, language, flashback in italics, texting is in bold and italics
A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m really loving these character and this series. Thank you for your wonderful responses. A special thank you to the people who looked this over for me.
***THE TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED**
It’s been three weeks, three freaking weeks since Dean has touched you and you are dying.
The first two weeks had been because you were healing up. He was pretty sure you had cracked ribs and your shoulder had been really sore, so he wasn’t going to chance hurting you, even the couple of times you had insisted.
Then you had gotten the bright idea to tell him either he could have fun with you, or you would take care of it yourself. Dean promptly made sure the two of you shared a room with Sam at the next motel, a smug smile on his face, daring you to go right ahead. If you weren’t so nervous about being caught, you would have called his bluff.
Shawn says “I love you” like they’ve been saying it for years.
He says it as if
she’s about to leave for work and he’s kissing her goodbye, got their child in
his arms and he’s saying ‘love you sweetie, baby say goodbye to mummy’ and he says
it as if they’re on the phone, and he goes ‘alright bub I gotta go, sound
check, bye love you!’
they’re not married.
She’s not leaving for work; he hasn’t got their child in
his arms and he’s not about to leave for sound check. They’re at his birthday
party, just got back from the club and they’re drunk – generously so. He has to
hold her to stand, and he wraps his arm around her giggling frame, snuggling
her into him as he drinks from a fresh can of beer.
family are piled around his condo, standing near frames and sitting on his
sofa, careful not to spill anything on the fresh white material.
Before he says
it – I love you - he remembers what she asked him as he bought the couch ‘But
what about the stains?’ and he remembers his calm answer of ‘We’ll pass that
bridge when we come to it’ that earned him a raised brow and exasperated shake
of the head.
He briefly wonder’s if that’s why he loves her, because she puts
up with his madness.
still giggling when the thought of the words reaches his buzzing brain. She
looks up at him, graces him with her sparkling eyes and he see’s stars. See’s Jupiter
Sees a blazing supernova and he’s brought back to what his mother
used to tell him, just follow the stars Shawn – they’ll guide you home. “You ok
birthday boy?” She asks over the mellow music flooding through his apartment.
tongue slips over her lips, rids her of any remaining lip gloss Shawn has
kissed off during the night and she raises a painted brow as she waits for an
–“he nods. Then he bites his lip and repeats himself “Yeah I am” confirming his
statement. He’s thinking that it’s been a while since he’s been fully content,
and he wonders briefly if it’s the newly legal liquor in his veins, but then he
realises it’s because of her.
Dressed in her favourite pair of jeans and silk
flower patterned shirt, they’re two peas in a pod, wrapped up together like a Hawaiian
landscape and he says it when she’s grinning. Say’s it against her forehead as
he kisses the stray strands away, says it like it’s a fact and he’s known it
she turns her head up to him and meets his slightly frightened expression. The pockets
of stars search his face and he’s left a drunken fool who just admitted he
loves his girlfriend of 5 months for the first time.
Yet a smile slowly slips
onto her face, fill’s his gut with butterflies and as she reaches up and cups
his cheek she says “You’re drunk”
nods. He licks the stray bead of beer that lay in the corner of his mouth and
then he dips down and rests his forehead against hers. She’s still grinning,
and it’s blindingly beautiful.
With her he see’s life through a sepia filter.
Through a camera that prints pictures with the date in the corner and the font
is a slightly faded yellow, letting him know that it’s real. “That’s true, but in
the morning I’ll be sober, and I’ll still love you”
do u ever think about someone and ur like: i wanna take care of them so hard??? i want to be their #1 supporter especially during times when they think no one believes in them. i want to comfort them when their thoughts are too loud and i’ll stay up with them all night until they drift off into a peaceful sleep in my arms. like u just wanna b there for them???? and love them endlessly????? and give them affection and so much love that they have never received????
So i saw a post a few days ago about neurotypicals who say that stim/fidget toys make you *less* focused and how fucked that is and it got me thinking of an analogy.
So you know when you try on a friend’s glasses and you can’t see shit???? Their glasses make your vision worse, right? But you realize that it’s because YOU DON’T NEED THEM. You might mention or make a joke about how blurry things are for you, but you still understand and appreciate that the glasses help your friend see, even though they aren’t good for you personally.
So when you try your friend’s tangle or fidget cube and claim, as a blanket statement, that it makes you *less* focused and that your friend should stop using it for that reason?? You’re being just as much of an asshole as if you tried on your friend’s glasses and said “wow, you know these ACTUALLY make your vision WORSE, right???” because you’re assuming that your experience is the same as theirs when it’s really, really not.