#nlthreenager

Three Days Earlier.

Chuck hurried up to you, his clipboard in hand and a string of worries on the tip of his tongue.

The last mission’s duffle was still slung across your shoulders, the rifle at your back, and the blood of a comrade still splattered across the front of your jacket. You sidestepped the prophet, fully intent on reaching your cabin and decompressing before hearing more bad news.

“…and you know how Cas is. By the way, Dean wants you on tomorrow’s caravan to the second camp. They’re going over their supplies now, which isn’t a lot, but they plan to head out at dawn.”

You stopped in the middle of the dirt path so suddenly that Chuck narrowly avoided walking into you.

Reading the confusion on your face, Chuck backtracked as if suddenly realizing that you were returning from a week-long mission.

“Right, so the plan is to help reinforce a fledgling camp on the other side of the state. We discovered them on the radio four days ago and Dean thinks,” he didn’t get to finish his thought as you unceremoniously shoved your duffel into his arms and started to take off in the direction of Dean’s cabin. “So, we’ll talk later?”

“Oh, you’re back,” Risa drawled. She stood outside the door to Dean’s cabin, arms crossed, and a foot kicked back to rest against the wall. Her mood seemed to match your own, which was fine, it was hard to find any sane person who wasn’t even a little bit irritable these days. But you didn’t appreciate the welcome.

“Is he in?” You asked.

“That depends…”

In no mood to play games, you pushed through to the door, ignoring her heated “hey!” and letting it swing wide on it’s hinges to slam into the wall behind it before stepping inside.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” you seethed.

Dean stood from the table, turning to you with an expression that was less than pleased. And though it was twisted, it felt good to know that you could still evoke an emotion out of him, even if that emotion was annoyance.

“Y/N?”

At the second voice, you tore your eyes away from Dean to the second person seated at the table behind him. In the next breath, you reached for the rifle at your back, but Dean had already braced himself against you, a hand on yours, staying the weapon.

The world seemed to be crashing around your ears as you kept a hard gaze on the person at the table, not really hearing Dean at your ear until he called your name.

“I checked, okay? He’s good. He’s…me.”

Holding your breath, you pulled your gaze back to Dean’s, violating every instinct that shouted against it. His expression was grim, but he stared deeply into your eyes, willing you to believe him.

It was the seated man’s slow, uncertain wave of the hand and awkward smile that had you slowly exhaling. Because you could see that it was him. Dean, before the end of the world.

“What are you doing here?” You asked while stepping away from Dean, your hand sliding out from under his. And if his jaw tightened in response, you ignored it.

“Risa, will you…” Dean trailed off, but the order was clear. With a stiff lip, she pulled the door back shut, obediently waiting outside for further orders.

The Dean at the table looked at the one behind you, as if waiting for his permission to speak.

“Angels,” the Dean behind you said. “From his time, not ours. He’s here to learn a lesson.”

The Dean at the table shrugged as if that were the gist of it. But you could feel that there was something they were holding back. And that reeked of your present-day Dean.

“And you’re going to teach him, are you?” You turned back to him, still nonsensically itching for a fight.

Sensing this, Dean refrained from answering. But the confusion as to why you persisted was visible on his face.

“Do you two need a moment? I can step outside.”  

“No,” Dean answered without looking away from you. “I’m not teaching him anything. He’s going to see for himself.”

There was your opening.

“What is he going to see?”

The silence became deafening as suddenly your Dean refused to speak. When you stepped back to have both in your sight, the contrast was utterly jarring. You had been there, before the apocalypse, had been apart of the inner circle to defeat the devil. You were there when everything went wrong and helplessly watched as Dean became the jagged shell of who he used to be. After so many losses, you were on the outside now. And you didn’t know how to get back in. If there was anything to get back into.

The fire in your voice faded as you pushed, “What’s the deal with the second camp? Is that a real mission or are you purposefully sending me away so that I’m not apart of whatever this is?”

“It’s real and I need you on it.” His tone had hardened into that veteran soldier giving orders. “Now will you please go help them and we will talk about this later.”

Grinding your teeth, you couldn’t help the instinct to adhere to his command. He wasn’t about to budge and you were losing energy trying. Without a word, you stalked back out of the cabin, slamming the door behind you for good measure. A snark comment from Risa on the porch had you halting on the stairs.

“What did you say?”

She pushed off from the wall, staring down at you with all the anger and hurt that you felt.

“I said it must be nice. To love someone who puts you first. It’s an evacuation.”

You stared at her, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Look at the roster if you don’t believe me. He’s getting everyone out. Including you.”

The camp continued to move around you as you digested her meaning until realization dawned, quickly followed by disbelief.

“He found it.”

“He sure did.”

“And you’re going with him tomorrow.”

“Like a sheep to the slaughter.”

And somehow, that hurt more. You kept from looking back at the cabin and continued down the steps. It didn’t take long for Chuck to find you again, still carrying your duffel bag and talking in a fluster, before ushering you towards the people you would be escorting to the second camp. And damn it, but Risa was right. Women, children, and the wounded were slated for the caravan.

An evacuation.

You didn’t get back to your cabin until nightfall. Weighted by exhaustion both physically and mentally, you barely reacted when you walked in to find a visitor seated on your bed.

“I’m exhausted, Dean. Is this you or past you?”

“I’m offended you have to ask.”

Finally shrugging out of your bloodied jacket, you threw it down onto the nearest surface and rested your hands on your hips.

“Well, right now, I’m offended by your face.”

And damn him, that your response only made him smile. It wasn’t the full bloom smile that you had fallen in love with all those years ago, but it was the closest he had come to in a long time.

“I thought you liked my face.”

“Not right now.”

He shut his eyes and sighed, as if that exchange alone caused him a great effort. “Will you come here?” He pat the bedspread beside him.

In defiance, you pulled a wobbly chair from the wall, dragged it two feet from the bed and fell into it with crossed arms. He watched you with pursed lips but said nothing on it.

“You have questions, so let’s hear it.”

“Where’s the other Dean?”

His mouth dropping open was the only sign that you had caught him off guard. Licking his lips he cocked his head to the side and tried to play it off.

“He’s safe.”

You raised your eyebrows and remained silent.

“Is this really what you want to talk about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you found Lucifer’s hideout?”

“I was a little preoccupied…”

“Not too preoccupied to make arrangements to send me away.”

“That…” and for a moment he appeared to struggle to find his next words. “…was a calculated decision.”

“Based on what?"

“I was trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” he scoffed at that, but you kept going. “I need you to let me in. Were you really just going to send me away with no word of warning? Without so much as a goodbye?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if I die, I need to know that you’re nowhere near him. I need to know that you’re far away and safe. I,” he took a deep breath. “I need to know that he won’t touch you. And this…”

His eyes went far away, lost in his plans for what was to come. But you leaned forward in your seat, searching for his gaze, to bring him back and let him know that you weren’t buying it.

“This doesn’t ensure that. You dying, alone doesn’t protect me, Dean.” His eyes narrowed and lifted as if he were about to argue. But he didn’t. Because your face gave it away before your words. “All it’s going to do is break my fucking heart.”

Tears trailed down your cheeks and your hands gripped your arms tighter because you wanted so badly to still be mad at him. To kick, yell, and scream at him that this was the wrong choice. He was making the wrong choice.

He moved forward, helped you to stand then encircled you in his arms, pressed your head into his chest. Your body trembled with every breath as you tried to keep the tide at bay.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

He pressed you tighter against him.

He didn’t answer.

But that was answer enough.

He was done fighting. You had lost him the second Sam said yes.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, thumbs rubbing into his back.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He asked, with a slight tremor in his timbre.

You held him tighter, breathed him in and responded in the lightest voice you could muster: “I’m offended you have to ask.”

Three Years Later.

The burning ache around your wrists dulled as she concluded her story.

Because that’s all it could really be, right? A story? Within this maddening dream?

The sadness that pulled at her face, weighted her shoulders, and glistened her eyes argued otherwise.

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

A deep breath as she continued to stare into the past.

“After my convoy reached the other camp…” she trailed off, interrupted by your clanging the handcuffs against the radiator.

“Answer me,” you growled, like a caged animal.

“I am,” she returned coldly. “Once the convoy reached the other camp, I headed back to Camp Chitaqua on my own. But there was no one left. Dean failed and the demons had celebrated.

“And now you’re here. Which makes me think the angels still haven’t persuaded Dean to say yes.”

“He won’t.”

She looked at you, firmly back in the present and seemed for a moment to marvel. All the fire within you, the aggressive certainty in a man you believed in and trusted, were flames that had extinguished within herself the day Dean died.

“No,” she said. “Of course, he won’t.”

She stood from her chair and set to releasing your wrists from the cuffs. Once you were free though, you found you could not move. You watched, transfixed as she contemplated her next words.

“Maybe…maybe it’ll be enough if you know that in the few hours we had together,” she paused at the sudden vulnerable expression on your face and smiled as if sharing a secret. “We loved a lifetime’s worth.”

A bright light shone through the cabin windows then, blinding you even as you raised your hands to cover your eyes.

“Knew they would come looking for you,” she said from above.

“What’s going on?”

“If you still think this is a dream, then we are more delusional than we think we are. The angels are looking for you. I kind of stole you, did I mention?”

You pushed yourself to your feet but were only successful in backing yourself into a corner.

Then you heard a shotgun being cocked and her calling out from a much farther distance, “Don’t stop fighting for him. Don’t you stop fighting for him ever.”

When finally the light disappeared, you slowly dropped your hands and peered into the darkness. You were back in the cheap motel room that you had passed out in the night before.

The red digits of the alarm clock glowed up at you from the nightstand.

Three thirty-three in the morning.

The year: 2009.

Yeah, that was what hurt her most. Knowing that somewhere else he was laughing and kissing and sleeping with the same stranger, someone who wasn't her.

She shut close her eyes, shaking her head to get rid of all those images.

God…she felt so stupid, still thinking about him after all this time, and the nights were always the worst because it was just too hard to keep her mind from wandering.

Missing Dean came in waves, and tonight – oh tonight – she was drowning while staring at the bottom of her half-empty glass.

She downed the rest of the whiskey and immediately asked for another round, taking the glass in her fingers with a deep sigh as the bartender served her again.

“Well, happy birthday to me.”

Y/N murmured, bringing the glass to her lips and drinking the whisky in one go, feeling the alcohol burn her throat. She slammed the glass down on the counter, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut.

Sensing someone had taken a seat beside her, she opened one eye to glance at the newcomer, relaxing immediately when she recognized Sam.

Right, Sam.

He was back. No one was quite sure how it had happened, but he was back, and that was what mattered - that and the fact that he wasn't a demon.

At first, when she saw him in Bobby's living room, she hoped they could just pick up where they left off. Until Bobby made her realize that wasn't going to happen. It was a very short conversation, consisting of two sentences.

Two sentences that, to that day, she didn’t know who hurt more – her or Bobby.

At least she had Sam back, which was both good and bad. Don't get her wrong: she was happy to have her friend back. Still, sometimes it was hard to look at him without thinking of Dean. Tonight, was one of those times.

“What are you doing here, Winchester?”

“Bobby told me where to find you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as Sam raised his arm and motioned for the barman to bring two more drinks.

“What do you need?”

“Why do I have to need something?”

“Because that’s how it usually works with you, guys.”

Sam smiled and raised his hands in surrender, knowing full well that she had caught him.

“Alright, alright. I thought we could have celebrated your birthday together.”

“Thanks, Sam, but I’m not in the mood.”

Sam took the drinks and thanked the barman. He kept one for himself and handed the other to Y/N.  He remained silent for a few seconds, just staring and studying her more.

“Is this about Dean?”

Y/N scoffed at his words, looking at Sam as if he were nuts to even think such a thing. Well, he wasn't, but she had to keep what was left of her dignity.

“What? No.”

Sam frowned in disbelief. Y/N glared at him, hoping he would drop the subject, but he seemed to be on a different frequency lately.

“C’mon, Y/N, I know you used to spend all your birthdays with Dean. I was there a few times, remember?”

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes, and letting Sam know how annoyed she was with him at the moment.

“Okay, fine, so what?”

“So, don’t let that stop you from celebrating, just because he’s not here.”

She sighed and looked down at the glass in front of her.

“He’s out there leaving his life and, sooner or later, you have to move on, and this seems to be a time as good as any.”

Y/N glanced at him, knowing he was right, and there was nothing she could say about it. She sighed, defeated, rubbing her eyes with her fingertips.

“So…”

She paused, looking to Sam for help. He seemed to sense her hesitation, so he grabbed both glasses and handed her one, which she took.

“So, we’re going to celebrate, you and me. I know I’m not Dean, but I promise you, we’ll have fun.”

They clinked the glass together before gulping down the whiskey.

They drank, laughed, and danced until the bartender hadn’t almost kicked them out. She really had had fun, though. Y/N hadn’t laughed that much in a very long time, and neither of them was ready to end their night.

So, they kept moving until they stumbled into Sam’s motel room, and one thing led to another. She’d known it was a big mistake the moment their lips touched, but that hadn’t been enough to stop her.

She couldn't even blame the alcohol. She could only blame herself and her weakness, but a year was a long time, and she longed for someone's touch. And even if Sam wasn't the one she really wanted, he was at least the one who was close enough to her, and that thought alone had hurt. So, she kissed him harder, and he kissed her back, matching Y/N same hunger. With their mouths pressed together, they began to push and pull their clothes off.

Their shirts were the first to hit the floor, leaving them both panting. Their eyes roamed over each other’s bodies. Y/N felt too self-conscious as she tried to unbutton her jeans. She unzipped them and let’em slide down her legs. Sam watched her every move, licking his lips in anticipation.

Y/N couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at her like that. She shuddered as she unhooked the clasp of her black lace bra, letting it slide down her arms and onto the floor. Sam grabbed her neck and pressed his mouth against hers. The kiss was rough and messy. He bit his lip and then ran his tongue over it. And just as he cupped her breast with his hands, Y/N wondered if Dean would have kissed her in the same way. Sam's fingers pinching her already hard nipples pushed that thought away.

She reached for his belt, unbuckled it and pulled down his trousers. The boxers were next. Pulling them down enough to free his cock, she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, stroking the tip. At that, Sam moaned into Y/N's mouth, bucking his hips against her. He ran a hand through her hair, tugging at it with his fingers to encourage her to kneel, and she took the hint.

She stroked it and, not taking her eyes off him, licked a strip of his cock, swirling her tongue around the head, tasting the pre-cum.

Y/N couldn't resist, so she took him in her mouth, closed her eyes and began to suck on his length.

Would Dean taste the same?

Would he moan the same way?

She got wetter and wetter with every lick, moan and thrust. Releasing Sam's cock with a loud pop, Y/N breathed deeply as she stroked his shaft, her other hand fondling his balls. He grunted, tightening the grip on the back of her head as his hand replaced hers on his shaft.

“Open up.”

She opened her mouth as she was told and stuck out her tongue. At the sight of Y/N on her knees in front of him, Sam growled and slapped his cock on her tongue once, twice, three times before pushing it through her lips.

She took it in, sucking as best she could, as Sam jerked his hips back and forth.

Y/N felt saliva running down her chin as he mouth-fucked her. With both hands on his hips, for balance, she closed her eyes.

She had spent several sleepless nights imagining herself kneeling, with Dean's cock in her mouth, fucking her the way Sam was doing it. And on those nights, the thought alone had made her come on her fingers all the time and one flick of Sam’s fingers on her clit would have had the same result in that moment.

Sam rocked in and out until he felt too close to the edge, so he stepped back, helped her up and quickly crushed his mouth against hers. She kissed him back as his hands moved down her body, searching for her panties. He tore them off and slid his fingers between her legs, which she spread a little, moaning at the feel of his fingers circling her clit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Is that all for me?”

Y/N bit her lower lip, nodding at the question, her eyes never leaving Sam's. He pressed his forehead against hers, mingling their breaths, grinning.

“Liar.”

Her eyes widened, but she had no time to say anything as he slid two fingers inside her, pushing them faster and faster, eagerly nipping at her nipples with his lips, making Y/N thrust against his hand.

“Oh, God…”

Y/N whimpered, clenching tightly around his fingers while he kept moving them, working her through the orgasm.

When it became too much, he slid his digits out and brought them to her lips, and she promptly welcomed them, sucking and moaning at the taste of herself on her tongue.

When she let them out, Sam captured her mouth in a sloppy kiss and urged them both towards the bed.

He put his hands on her hips and turned her over. Once her back was pressed against his chest, Sam's hands moved up Y/N's body, cupping her breasts and enjoying every moan as he nibbled at her earlobe.

“Hands and knees on the bed.”

Sam watched as she positioned herself in the middle of the bed with her legs spread wide, making him growl at the sight of her glistening pussy on full display. Unable to resist the urge to taste it, he stood behind Y/N and licked and sucked her folds once, twice, three times.

She bit her lips and gripped the sheets so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Sam trailed kisses up the skin of her back until he reached her shoulders, sinking his teeth there and making her moan. She had never been more desperate to fill that void.

He nuzzled her neck, licking a strip of skin, holding her in place as he took his cock to rub it a few times across her wet folds, grazing her opening with the tip.

Y/N closed her eyes in anticipation, feeling herself stretch around his girth inch by inch.

Once buried inside her, he stood still, giving Y/N time to get used to his size. Panting into her ear, his hands roamed down her body to pinch her perky nipples. Sam moved his hips back, already feeling her breathing get heavier, feeling how wet her pussy was getting and how tight it was clenching around his shaft, so he pushed into her again. She tried to move, desperately wanting him to go a little faster, a little harder, but Sam was quicker, stopping her hips with his hands, slowing the pace.

One of his hands gripped Y/N's neck, pulling her closer to his chest. As he increased the rhythm of his thrusts, she humored Sam's hips as best she could, feeling the wetness slide down her trembling legs.

Would it have felt that good to have Dean inside her?

Usually, it was – in her dreams at least. Dean would fuck her that way, with his chest pressed to her back, a hand around the neck, and the other rubbing her clit just the way she liked it.

At that thought, she threw her head back, eyes closed, and slid a hand between her legs to rub the already hardened clit.

Sam lowered his gaze, shuddering at the sight, and as a result tightened his grip on her neck, loving the way Y/N instantly squeezed his cock, feeling her become even tighter than she already was.

She gasped as Sam continued to move at a brutal pace, wanting nothing more than to feel her finally start to come around him.

Which she did the moment she tightened her grip around his shaft, making him moan with pleasure.

Y/N felt the orgasm overwhelm her and she couldn't help but moan in pleasure.

“D… Sam!”

She bit down on her lips, squeezing her already closed eyes even tighter, and her cheeks turned red from the embarrassment of having almost moaned out the wrong name.

Sam had to smile at that, giving her a few more thrusts, letting her ride out the orgasm, and only when she collapsed flat on the mattress did he get out of her soaked pussy, causing Y/N to whimper at the loss.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her wild heart, and as Sam helped her turn over to lie on the bed between the pillows, she saw him towering over her with a grin on his face.

Blushing and out of breath, she let her eyes roam over his sweaty body, licking her lips at the sight of his still hard cock, opening her legs and welcoming him between them.

Sam moved closer, running his hands up and down her legs, leaning in to greedily search for her lips.

Y/N kissed him back with equal intensity, running her fingers through his long hair, pulling it tighter than she intended and getting a slap on her red, sensitive pussy.

Moaning, she grabbed his hard cock and pumped it quickly, while at the same time Sam slid two fingers into her slit and fingered her vigorously. 

She felt herself getting wetter than she thought possible as Sam continued to hit her G-spot.

Unable to do anything but lie there and take whatever he was willing to give her, she let go of his dick and gripped the sheets beneath her, her toes curling in anticipation.

“F-fuck…”

She cried out, collapsed and spilled onto his hand, legs shaking and breathing heavily as she felt the most powerful orgasm of her life.

He looked at her in awe before pulling his fingers from her still throbbing pussy, sucking and tasting them with closed eyes.

As soon as Sam opened them, he looked at her before placing both forearms on either side of her head and pushing the head of his cock against her entrance.

He swallowed her moan with his mouth and kissed her hard and deep, letting Y/N taste herself on his tongue.

She responded to the kiss with everything she had and felt him fill her again in one quick thrust.

“God, Y/N, you feel so fucking good.”

Sam groaned, pounding her pussy with deep, hard thrusts. She arched her back and wrapped both legs around his hips. She could feel his dick throbbing deep inside her thanks to this position, and with the feeling that he was close, she clenched tightly around him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up good.”

“Yeah, come for me, Sam, please.”

She felt him tremble between her legs, and with three more powerful thrusts he burst inside her, leaving Y/N whimpering as she felt Sam's cum filling her.

His groans echoing through the walls.

Minutes later he stopped in her tight heat, running his fingers along her side, noticing her chest still rising and falling slightly, he leaned down, kissing her swollen lips.

His hand reached for her breast, squeezing and kneading it a few times between his fingers. Then, he let go and stepped out of her warmth.

Y/N shivered at the air hitting her warm skin as Sam put his hands on her knees, spreading them wider and staring at her glistening slit.

She was so fucking beautiful, all spread out for him, just him, and Sam always wondered what it would feel like to have her like that and, fuck, if it wasn't worth it.

So, he couldn't really understand why he hadn't made a move sooner.

As he watched his cum ooze out of her used pussy, Sam moaned, biting his lips, trying to hold on until he couldn't.

“Fuck it…”

He leaned down and licked at her folds, tasting her and himself on Y/N's wet skin.  The moment she felt his tongue, a long moan escaped her lips, so she slipped a hand between her legs and ran her fingers through Sam's hair.

He kept on slurping at her pussy, then slid his tongue into her slit, feeling Y/N instantly buck her hips into his mouth.

She was a quivering mess, lying on the bed with her legs spread and Sam's head between them, not really sure how much longer she could hold out.

But she couldn't help imagining what someone...

No, scratch that.

What would Dean have thought if he had walked in the room just then? What would he have thought, seeing her being fucked by his brother?

Y/N bit down on her lips and closed her eyes as she arched her back, still rocking her hips to indulge Sam's tongue.

She cupped her breasts and promptly pinched the hard nipples, trying to get rid of Dean's image, his hands, his lips, but those green eyes seemed to haunt her everywhere.

“Come for me, Y/N, c’mon.”

“Uhm… can’t.”

“Yes, yes, you can. One more time, c’mon.”

Sam's tongue filled her again as he rubbed his skilled fingers over her clit, and in no time, she could feel the pleasure building again.

Her head was still so full of Dean's image as she came on his little brother's tongue that Y/N had to bite down on her own to keep from moaning the wrong name, which was right there, about to slip past her lips.

He drank all of her juices, only letting her go when it became too much for her, and Y/N's leg immediately collapsed on the bed as she tried to get over her high.

Sam rolled over in the sheets beside her, licking his lips where he could still taste her. He glanced in Y/N's direction with a lazy smile on his face, then caught her lips for one last kiss before getting up to disappear into the bathroom.

Y/N stood still, breathing heavily, and staring at the ajar door. And even if she could still feel the buzzing in her body, she forced herself to get out of bed, ad the reality of what had just happened hit her with full force.

Picking up all her clothes, she dressed as best she could and slipped out of the motel room. Once outside, she leaned against the cool wall, breathing in the night air.

She kept saying how much of a burden she felt, how she had failed me, and how she struggled but couldn’t keep fighting. 

I was there for her, whenever she needed me, and I always checked on her. I was sure she knew I was going to be her support system, and still, she felt like she had failed me when in reality, it was my fault. 

“I decided to make this decision because the voice in my head really needs some help. I didn’t know what else to do. Everything became too much and she took control of me. I tried my best to fight her but I couldn’t; I had to give up.”

This was the first clue she gave me, someone was bothering her. Was it a friend? A relative? Someone I didn’t know?

I needed to find out who she was and have a talk with her. I needed to know what happened.

“Thank you for always being there for me. I’m very thankful to have found you. I love you Jay” 

She ended the letter but I didn’t have any answers. The only thing I knew was that someone was bothering her and I couldn’t do anything to help her. Why did she never say anything?

There wasn't much that could tell me something else other than what I was already thinking.

That's when I noticed. The personal card over my table, it must have fallen when I opened the letter. It had a phone number written by hand, without hesitation I grabbed my phone and dialed the number hoping to finally find some answers.

“Hello, I’m calling on behalf of Y/N Y/L/N,” I said when the call was picked up. “We were expecting your call Mr. Ackles. If you are okay, we would like to meet you to talk about Miss Y/L/N’s case,” I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding and agreed. I needed to know what had happened to her. I finished the call feeling uneasy. I don't know what to expect, they gave me an address and an appointment to meet someone that's taking care of Y/N's case. What case? What happened to her?

I drove to the address the place had told me and waited. Uncertain feelings because I didn't know what to expect. My anxiety was very high.

I was taken into a room and asked to wait there. 

A few minutes later, a man walks in holding a folder. We shake hands and ask me to sit on one of the chairs.

I learnt that this person, Dr. Carol Balmes, was Y/N’s therapist and was responsible for her case. I’ve also learnt that Y/N admitted herself after a bad episode which I would’ve liked to be informed either by Y/N or the therapist.

“I know you’re thinking about why we didn’t call you when she came as she listed you as her emergency contact; but we wanted to assess her situation first. We needed to know how serious it was”

I kept nodding at what the doctor was telling me.

“Given it was four in the morning when she came, we opted to wait for an appropriate time to make the call if it was necessary. The following morning, she was feeling a bit better, but didn’t want to make the call yet, so we respected her decision.”

“So, I’m here today because she wanted me to come?” I asked trying to understand the situation and the doctor nodded

At least I know she’s alive and well I thought

“If it’s okay with you, I would like you to see Y/N first and then talk about her situation and treatment” The doctor suggests and I nod

The doctor leaves the room and comes back with Y/N some minutes later. She looks well, she's lost some weight and she has dark circles under her eyes, but she looks fine, and I’m glad to see it. I smile at her when she makes eye contact with me.

I know she’s nervous and anxious for the whole situation, but I hope she knows I’m not mad at her at all, if I have to be mad at someone is myself, for not noticing before it got too bad.

“I’ll leave you two a few minutes and then I’ll be back” Doctor Balmes says before leaving the room.

The first thing I do once we are alone is hugging her tightly, as if I was afraid to lose her. Then, I kiss her forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” she starts speaking, still hugging each other, “it wasn’t supposed to end this way” she admits and I tightened my embrace.

“Honey, you don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m the one who should be doing it instead.” I reply 

We moved to the couch that was in the room and we talked for a bit until doctor Balmes came back. I'm glad to know that Y/N is doing so much better than when she first arrived, and I promised her that I was going to be there every step of the way.

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"What? Well, if you don't love me, you can leave," you replied.

"Y/N, no, it's not what I meant; I didn't mean that; it's just that..." Steve was interrupted by his cell phone; he had received a message: "They needed him in S.H.I.E.L.D. for a mission." I have to go to work; they need me, but we'll talk when I come back."

When I was going to kiss you goodbye, you turned around; you weren't sure if you could continue.

Finally, the team of recruits assigned to you managed to complete one of the training successfully, and you felt proud. However, the smile on your face disappeared when you saw Hill at the door; that could not mean anything other than some bad news.

"What's going on?" You asked her worriedly, but she didn't say a word. "Does the director need anything?"

"It's Rogers."

"What happened to Steve?" Even if he and you were angry, you still cared. "Hill!" You raised your voice in the face of her silence.

"It appears that there was an accident during the mission; he is still unconscious, but he appears to be fine."

You didn't quite hear what she told you when you ran out to the medical wing, where you knew he would be.

Two hours later Steve woke up, and at that time you were by his side, although you could not stop thinking about what had happened in recent weeks.

"Who are you?" Steve asked as soon as he saw you.

"I'm Y/N, your wife," you replied confusedly; however, Steve looked even more confused than you.

"Who am I?” Why am I here?"

You didn't understand what was happening, although after the doctors checked him, they informed you that he had lost his memory. Somehow you managed to convince him that you were his wife and you were going to take care of him.

Perhaps that was life's way of giving them another chance to fix all the problems they had in the past, another chance to start over and make amends for their mistakes.

Although the doubt that he would continue to love you appeared every time in your mind, you had no complaint when he was chivalrous with you; in fact, he acted the same as when he was courting you.

You feared that he would go to work and something bad would happen to him; you had no idea what would happen if he went out and got lost, especially since they didn't want to make an official announcement of Steve's true status. There were even a few people who knew. If someone at work asked you about him, you told them he was taking a few days off.

Steve spent his days looking at your photos and videos. He seemed to follow all the medical instructions, but you weren't entirely sure it was working. Several times you asked him things he was supposed to know, but you didn't get the expected answer.

Several times you tried to find out what had led them to the situation that occurred before the accident, but even if you could find any clue that would tell you anything,

However, you could not deny that you could get used to living like this; the afternoons and evenings were lovely, you spent time together, and at least now it seemed that Steve enjoyed your company.

You were rushing to prepare breakfast; you had forbidden Steve to cook after he almost set fire to the kitchen preparing a simple dish. While you were cooking, you told him what you would do and your plans for that afternoon. When you got back from work, you would go to the cinema to see the last movie that had been released.

"I'm sorry," Steve said suddenly, and you looked up from the bowl where you were mixing the pancakes.

"I beg your pardon?" You didn't understand why he apologized; maybe he had thrown the juice or forgotten to put the dirty clothes in the basket, although that didn't even bother you since the mission, and you felt that you couldn't bother with him.

"Sorry for everything I've put you through," Steve continued to say without taking his eyes off you.

"OK, Steve, it wasn't your fault that the mission went wrong," you said as you continued to cook the pancakes. Now you thought he was referring to everything that had happened since you were told his status after the mission.

"Y/N, I don't mean that; I know we argued before the mission; I apologize; I didn't want to tell you all those horrible things I said; I didn't want to hurt you. After all this that's happened, all I know is that I still love you," Steve confessed.

"Steve... "

"I'll understand if you don't want to stay with me."

"Wait, Steve, do you remember what happened on the morning of mission day?" You asked, staring at him; he nodded; you smiled. "Do you know what that means? You have recovered your memory."

What you had experienced in recent weeks had made you reflect on everything that had happened since you met Steve, and you continued to love him. He had been too busy with all the work to be able to have a long vacation with you; that's why he went on so many missions and barely spent time at home; there was never a real reason to worry or suspect something different, although, of course, you would have appreciated that there was more communication.

Steve stood up, approached you, hugged you, and kissed your hair. He remembered everything he had ever lived; his memory had returned. Then he cleared his throat.

"So, do you want to stay with me?"

"Only if you promise me that we will go on a whole month of vacation, just you and me, no missions, no training, nothing but fun, you and me."

Below I have listed some of my favourite angsty lyrics, and I’d love for you guys to create a story (2K per part/chapter limit - no chapter limit) inspired by a lyric of your choosing. The deadline will be 17th Feb, 2023 (the day before my blog’s fourth birthday). You can write for any of the characters/actors I write for myself. Not sure if the one you pick is acceptable? Just hit me up.

Dark is fine! The only things I don’t read are: pregnancy/pregnancy related smut, underage (incl age play), snuff, toilet stuff and beastiality (play included), otherwise run wild. If you do write any of the stuff listed, I won’t read, but I’ll still reblog.

Not a writer? Until 18th March, I will be accepting angsty prompts, where I will write a short blurb for my favourite entries. So why not send me your favourite angsty lyrics? Or pick one of the ones from the list below to see my take on it (just let me know what character you’d like) ❤️

Want to cry along with me? I made a Spotify playlist of all the songs I took lyrics from ❤️

Few basic rules to remember:

You have to be 18+ to be following me/participating

For this challenge, you can write any genre; smut, fluff, dark but your fic/prompt MUST include angst as its main feature

There’s no limit on parts/chapters if you want to write a series, I just ask that chapters/parts are 2K or below, to help me be able to read them (thanks, MaDD 🙃)

Write for any fandom/character on my blog.

Please do not include any smut involving underage characters, and remember my above no nos if you want me to read your story!

Tag me in your fic and use the hashtag #nlthreenager

Message me to let me know what prompt you're picking!

Deadline is 17th Feb 2023

Have fun breaking my heart!

Prompts:

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

I don’t relate to you, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty

It must be nice to love someone who puts you first

I gave you my hours and advice just trying to fix you and all your daddy issues

The girl that you want is tearing us apart, because she’s everything I’m not

I might be okay, but I’m not fine at all

You call me up again just to break me like a promise

There’s a girl I know, he loves her so… I’m not that girl

Say I’m your worst mistake, and hell it might be true, but don’t say I didn’t love you

Makeup is expensive, sick of wasting it on exes

I just can’t turn her off and I guess we’ve got that in common

I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to

Did she make you forget you ever missed me?

My hair is smelling like cigarettes somewhere with somebody I’ll forget, ‘cause I’m scared of sleeping with just the truth

I reached for you, but all I felt was shame

I’m sick of everything I’m doing I think is getting me over you

Tell me I’m a waste of love, tell me that I’m not enough

I was thinking on the drive down, ”any time now, he’s gonna say it’s love” - he never called it what it was

Leave my heart all black and blue ‘cause it ain’t half as bad as what I put you through

Where’s that girl that knows not to put up with that?

He walks out the door like I don’t even exist. What did I do to deserve this?

I hate that because you, I can’t love you

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own, now you mail back my things and I walk home alone

You would’ve been the one if you were a better man

You can’t deny how hard I tried

Life’s a bitch, and so are you

If they could see the pain you put me in again, maybe then I wouldn’t have to fight no more in this psychological war

You fuck up again and then you blame me, screaming that I’m crazy - maybe I am

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would’ve been fine, and that made me want to die.

You’re just breaking me not any laws

I miss you lying that you love me

Was that love in your eyes I saw or just the reflection of mine?

In your mind it’s over, because you know that I can’t stay sober

What if every good intention is a curse and not a blessing?

You do make me hard, but she makes me weak

Was it too much to ask for just a part of what I gave you back? Why was I so hard to love?

He only calls you pretty when he puts his hands on your body

Some days I can’t face the world outside

You’re only worth how much you sell

Weeping in a party bathroom some actress asking me “What happened?” You. That’s what happened, you.

The voice in my head really needs some help

When I’m with him I am thinking of you

I didn’t mean to fall out of love with you

I don’t want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else

Just ‘cause I pick up when you call, don’t mean that I wanna talk

Too sad to cry, too high to get up

We sure looked happy in pictures, the camera doesn't show the way it hurt

Missing you comes in waves, and tonight I’m drowning

My love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

Reds and yellows swirled into oranges and pinks on the far-off horizon as you stood on the first step of the porch. Sleeves folded at your elbows, shielded you from the brisk evening breeze blowing through.

Silently, you had watched as he packed up his things from the house you used to share. Watched him cinch, buckle and toss up the bags of his life into the backseat of the chevy.

Your coffee had gone cold as you sat at the kitchen table in the early hours of the morning, listening to the floors creak overhead as he went through the drawers and closet in the bedroom.

It had been one argument too many. Another misunderstanding that had shattered your heart; another patch he couldn’t bring himself to tend. After all, his own pride had been hurt. His loyalty questioned once again.

So, he packed, and you waited.

Broken hearts in the air, desperate for a word of comfort, but much too wounded to offer the care.

Now, with the last door slammed on his things, he circled the vehicle, his boots crunching in the gravel of the driveway. His intention clear, to slip behind the wheel and drive away without so much as a goodbye.

Hand gripping tightly to the banister, you stepped forward, attempting to call his name to try to fix this. But your body betrayed you; throat closing so that a single word could not crawl out.

But your movement was enough to catch his eye and give him pause.

His face was perfectly smoothed to keep his emotions below the surface. Yet, he must have seen everything on yours, for the coolness of his gaze wavered on a blink. Sorrow washed across his handsome features, his head tilting as if under the weight of it all.

And just as you couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move as instinct urged him to. Urged him to take you into his arms, pull you close into his chest and shield you from all the pain.

Tears dotted his lashes, his face flushed, and his lips parted but found he had no words.

You stepped down, just one shaky step.

“I,” his voice sounded on an exhalation. You could see him tearing himself apart for the chance to blow it all into the wind and just stay. “You can’t deny, how hard I tried for us.”

Your hand gripped tighter, halting your decent on the porch steps.

You knew.

Of course, you did.

All the times he held you up when the world was too much. The times he cradled you with whispers of affirmation and adoration when the demons in your head were shrieking your worthlessness.

He had been a well of love and light in your life.

But you had been too greedy.

And now he stood before you, hollow and struggling to give himself a chance at happiness that he deserved.

Your love for him in that moment overshadowed every ounce of despair. Swallowing every emotion to mimic the calm surface he had held all day; you lifted your chin and held his gaze.

In this one moment, you would be strong.

For him.

“Drive safe.”

His watery, green eyes flicked back and forth between yours, confused and searching for the truth. With a deep inhale, his lips pressed into a line and his shoulders straightened. His slight nod before turning away almost broke your resolve.

Still, you stood tall, watching as he slid behind the wheel to drive out of your life forever. And when the dust finally settled after he disappeared over the horizon, you slowly fell to sit, legs sprawled across the steps.

He took with him the sun and warmth of the day, and all the light in your life.

Your heart broke completely, like a star exploding in your chest, burning and destructive. Your sobs carried log into the night and still never long enough.

The pain in your chest carried over into the waking world and when your eyes slowly opened, tears fell from your lashes onto your folded arms. For a moment you didn’t know where you were, until the smell of freshly brewed coffee registered. You were home, in the bunker with the boys.

Lifting yourself from the table, you pieced together that you had fallen asleep while helping Sam research ways to remove the Mark of Cain. The last book you had been reading laid open and useless before you.

Steps approached from behind and a mug full of steaming coffee was placed on the table beside you.

“I wish you wouldn’t pull all-nighters on this,” Dean spoke on an exhalation.

His voice rang deep in your still aching chest so that you couldn’t immediately respond or even think about thanking him for the coffee. When he circled the table to peer over the books you had torn through the night before, you could only stare.

Between the loss in the dream and the waking fear of losing him in the real world, you found there was only one thing you wanted to make clear.

“I love you.”

Dean’s entire body froze one second and the next his eyes flashed up to yours, his face carefully smoothed to keep everything under the surface.

You didn’t know if it was the start of a goodbye or a hello.