Supernatural Imagines and Stories

Bilingual

Note: Translation at the end! I didn't like the way it looked in parentheses.

Disclaimer! I speak a little French, but I got most of this from Reverso, so I apologize if any of it is inaccurate. If you know the correct version, please tell me so I can fix it.

You were baking cookies because why not, listening to the radio because I mean c'mon, you gotta. The song finished and another came on; this song was your favorite French song! You smiled, thinking back to your many summers spent in the gorgeous country. The words were fluent and slipped past your lips as you sprinkled chocolate chips into the batter. "Où est le sucre? Je sais qu'll est dans ce cabinet!" You frustratedly mumbled to yourself, opening cabinet after cabinet. "Où, Où, Où?" You had your head in a bottom cabinet when you heard a voice call out, "What the heck?"

You shot your head up, but that was a big mistake. You cursed as you slammed your head against the top of the cabinet. "Putain tu m'as fait peur!" Whirling around, you faced Dean as you rubbed your sore head. Dean had a look of pure shock and confusion on his face. Still massaging your head, you tilted it. "What?" He didn't say anything for a few seconds. "You-You speak another language? You've never told me that." You shrugged with a passive face. "Never came up Dean. I've spoken French since freshman year. I've always been obsessed with the entire country. I thought I told you that I've been to France practically since high school." He could only shake his head. Silence hovered the atmosphere until Dean broke it. "Say something again."

You smiled and swayed over to him, speaking softly the entire way. "Je sais dire beaucoup de choses en français. La langue est magnifique, la manière dont elle sort de la bouche." Dean sucked in a deep breath as he heard you. He tried to steady his breathing, but it was insanely hard with the way your eyes were sparkling and damn the way you walked over to him. You were right up against him, so you could something protruding through his pants, but you didn't pay attention. You just kept talking, loving that he couldn't understand. Taking a deep breath, you gasped out. "Je t'aime jusqu'à la lune Dean Winchester." Even though he didn't know what the meant, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders at the confession. Dean inched his lips closer and closer to yours, his hands slowly gliding up the sides of your body, stopping at the back of your neck. "Tell me how to say I love you." He quietly demanded against your lips. Dean internally reveled at the feel of your lips brushing his as you told him. "Je t'aime." He repeated. With that, the space between became nothing as your lips touched each others.

"Where is the sugar? I know it's in this cabinet?"

"Where, where, where?"

"Damn it you scared me!"

"I know a lot in French. The language is beautiful, the way it rolls off the tongue."

"I love you to the moon and back Dean Winchester."

"I love you."