Privilege
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: dean admits he feels old and you can’t help but gawk at his thinking
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 0.4k
warnings: body image issues, language, references to characters expecting death in the past/vague mentions of suicidal tendencies
timeline: set in an au where the series finale was different
author’s note: happy (belated) birthday to my favorite lil guy! love you so so much, thank you for not dying in the series finale!! (ps: please let me know if the format looks weird/different cause i finally have a laptop so this is the first time i'm using website tumblr and not the app)
“I’m forty-fucking-five.” Dean stared into the mirror, his eyes noticing every wrinkle and crinkle in his skin. “Forty-five,” he repeated.
“Happy birthday, Dean!” You walked into the bathroom and wrapped your arms around him from behind.
“Can you believe I’m forty-five?” He laughed humorlessly.
“I seriously can’t,” you replied, your grip tightening. “I can’t believe I’m actually gonna get to grow old with you, Winchester.”
“Uh huh…old,” he mumbled.
“I made breakfast, wanna come downstairs and eat it with me?”
“Sounds great sweetheart, you go ahead and I’ll be down in a minute.”
**
“What’s wrong?” you asked, Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “You’ve barely touched your bacon and eggs, not to mention the pancakes you seem to be ignoring…are you okay?”
“Just…a lot on my mind I guess.” He tried to smile but you saw right through it.
“Dean,” you warned.
“I’m old, hun. I mean forty-five is like…officially old,” he admitted.
You furrowed your brows; “Seriously? That’s what’s bothering you?”
He nodded a little, avoiding your gaze.
“First off, you aren’t ‘officially old’ whatever that means,” you started. “Secondly…I want to grow old with you, Dean. Getting to see you age and aging with you is a fucking privilege! Especially considering the insane job we used to have.” You took his hands in yours. “Let’s face it, neither of us ever expected to make it to thirty-five, let alone forty or even forty-five.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I never even worried about smile lines or eating healthy or anything like that because I firmly believed I’d never make it to an age where any of that mattered,” you cut him off. “And I know you’ve felt the same. So, now? Seeing your wrinkles deepen, your strands of gray hair? I’m fucking thrilled, Dean. The realization that we’re actually gonna grow old together is really sinking in and I’m so, so excited about our future together.”
“You’ve really got a way with words,” he laughed a little.
“It’s a gift,” you said smugly. “Besides, you can’t seriously believe you aren’t getting sexier each day, right?”
“You think?” He smirked.
“Oh I know,” you replied. You leaned over and kissed his lips sweetly. “And I just keep falling more and more in love with you.”
“I love you too,” he mumbled into your mouth, kissing you back.
“Now eat your delicious breakfast that I spent way too long making!” you said, a fake tone of authority lacing your words. Dean let out a loud, deep chuckle — making his smile lines and fine wrinkles more visible, therefore causing your smile to grow.
He obliged and started eating the food on his plate, practically moaning when he got to the pancakes.
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