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#that Sam and Dean share a heaven
tsukiyo-7 · 6 months
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Every now and then (read: always) I think about how Sam and Dean are canonically soulmates and the showrunners were just expecting people to be normal about it???????
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jaredspinknose · 1 year
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Dean carried Sam out of the fire, so he could live, he was his safety from the beginning. Sam carried dean off the rebar so he could die, he was his safety till the end.
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ardentpoop · 2 months
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my dash is lit up by Sam and Dean's heaven fireworks scene in Dark Side of the Moon and the Shakespearean (a la Romeo & Juliet) Sam and Dean in Red Meat.
thank you for your service.
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hellerscape · 2 years
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Misha talking how about Cas was supposed to be in the roadhouse: “…I would call them out. Yeah, they had this one script where they were gonna blah blah blah. And then they’d be like, ‘dude, we didn’t do that script so you can’t get us in trouble for it. And I got in trouble several times with the writers and producers and executives. But now the show’s over what are they gonna do, fire me? They can’t do anything to me at this point, so I’ll tell you exactly how the show was going to end. Which I think would’ve been cooler, honestly. The big roadhouse scene, it was Dean’s Heaven, and this giant roadhouse. They even had plans drawn up that they were gonna build. It was like a major climatic ending. And then Sam was gonna walk in and the camera was gonna follow Sam so we get the feel from sort of Sam, Sam’s now dead, spoiler alert. In the alternate ending, Sam dies, Dean’s already dead and he [Sam] comes into Dean’s Heaven; which also, they’re not sharing this Heaven, right, and it was supposed to be this big house/bar on the side of the highway and inside are all of the cast members…and Dean was gonna sidle up next to Cas at the bar, Cas was gonna be there. Which was gonna be a great ending. But instead they had two guys on a bridge.” - Misha from Melbourne’s All Hell Breaks Loose 11 panel
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A Good Man (Dean Winchester)
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Pairing: Dean Winchester X Wife!Reader
Summary: Dean never wanted kids. Until he married you, and now he's changed his mind.
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children, you don't want kids) p in v, brief fingering, creampie, breeding kink, bit of dirty talk, established relationship, cursing.
WC: 3.4k I'm sorry
A/N: Idk what has gotten into me lately, but it's just filth all up in this head. Just one thought, dean and kids. That's it. He wouldve been a great dad if the writers didnt hate him, fight me. If this flops I'll cry myself to sleep. Kay enjoy the not soldier boy filth
Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
Dean never wanted kids. Not really. How could he? He could never be selfish enough to bring a child into his life. His way of life wasn't the life any child deserved. He knew he didn't. But he didn't know if he could ever give up hunting, it was all he had ever known. All he was raised to do. And deep down, that's exactly what he didn't want, he didn't want to be the father he had, and in so many ways he and John were alike. So he promised himself he would never bring a child into this world, into his life. 
And then he met you. 
The sweetest girl he had ever met. You were the prettiest, too. The second he laid eyes on you when you served him at a local dinner in Lebanon, he knew you were something else. And the minute you flashed him a smile, he was done for. He wanted you. And good thing you wanted him too. 
Dean never thought he would want to marry anyone, settling down, going to bed and waking up next to the same person for the rest of his life, he never thought he would have any of those things. But then, he fell in love with you. And much to his relief, you loved him too, exactly the way he was, hunting and all. Though that was a conversation that took weeks of processing before you were fully on board, but you moved past it. You would even, at times help them, or more like Sam, research. Hunting was a big part of who Dean was, it was his life, and you wanted to be part of it. How he was ever lucky enough to deserve someone like you he didn't know. Sometimes he wondered if he had died and had gone to heaven, you being a vision of the bliss and happiness he so desperately wanted. But no, he was alive and you were real. 
So he married you. 
Kids were never in the equation though. It was brought up here and there, the possibility, the fantasy, the what if, but you both figured it wasn't right. Dean thought it would be for the best, he would just ruin their life like his father ruined his and Sam's. 
Until your sister gave birth to a baby girl. 
Dean wasn't in the picture when your nephews had been born, they were in elementary school now. But when your sister got pregnant again, right around the time you and Dean got married, you were thrilled. You loved your nephews, and you were going to love having a niece now. You had shared your excitement with him, but he didn't see the hype. What was so exciting about a crying red-faced shit dispenser? But alas, he at least tried to share your excitement. 
Until he actually saw you with the newborn in your arms. 
Dean had driven you a few states over to your sister's, so you could help out with the boys while she got settled back home that weekend. He wasn't around much, he felt out of place and like he was intruding, he had only met your family a handful of times after all. But on the last night you stayed at your sister's, he found you in the nursery, the red-faced baby peacefully cradled in your arms. He was speechless. He had never seen you with a baby before. The way you held her with care and gentleness, the way you said loving words to her, the way you smiled at her. It was like his heart had stopped and he was frozen in place. 
You heard the floorboards creak behind you and you turned around. You saw, Dean, standing by the door, face pale as a ghost. You raised a concerned eyebrow at him. 
"You okay Dean? What are you doing just standing there?" You asked him softly, as not to disturb the almost sleeping newborn in your arms. Dean blinked twice, swallowed and nodded. 
"Yeah I'm.. I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a nervous smile and half pointed at you, "I was just watching you. Not— Not watching like that, just y'know—"
"Oh jesus. Just come here, would you?" You giggled at his nervous rambling and nudged him in your direction. He looked at you with apprehension, but nodded regardless. He walked towards you and stood behind you. He was at least a head taller than you, so he could easily stand behind you and look over your shoulder. And his heart definitely stopped then.
"She's the cutest little thing isn't she?" You said to him, smiling at her as you rocked her in your arms. 
Dean let out a long breath as his eyes landed on the tiny being in your arms, "Yeah she uh, she's somethin'." He met her eyes and he only smiled awkwardly. She giggled and lifted her tiny arms. 
You laughed softly when she did and looked over your shoulder at him with a smile, "Baby, I think she likes you." You said to him when she kept her arms lifted and even fisted her tiny hands in his direction. "I think she wants you to hold her." 
"Wha-what?" 
You turned around to face him and his eyes were wide and his eyebrows were knitted into a nervous and confused expression. He was cute, sometimes he melted your heart without even trying. 
"Do you know how to hold a baby?" 
"Yeah but—" 
"Okay then hold her. I'm right here, you'll be fine, she won't like, gauge your eyes out or anything." You reassured him, teasing him a bit. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at your comment. 
"Hilarious." He rolled his eyes. He wanted to say no, but there was something about you, holding the little girl that made his stomach twist and turn. He couldn't even describe the feeling, but he knew he liked it. "Fine." 
Dean tensed up the second he had the newborn in his arms. He didn't know if he was holding her too tight, if her head was supported enough, if he was holding her steady enough. He looked at you with panic for a second, but when the little girl reached out her tiny arms and her tiny fingers touched his jaw, he felt like his heart stopped. He looked down at her, his eyes finding her big ones and his face softened. And he smiled, he actually smiled. 
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Dean couldn't take his mind off it. You with a tiny being in your arms. He thought about what it would be like to see your belly grow with his child, to see you hold a baby with his eyes and your nose. He thought about doing all the things his father never did with him. He thought about being a better father. 
The entire ride back home, Dean was absent, he said very little and you knew something was on his mind. You knew he could get lost in his own head and it'd be damn near impossible to get him to talk about it. You hoped he would eventually. Though you had the feeling neither of you were in much mood to talk. It was late, Dean was probably tired from hours of driving and you were exhausted from days of babysitting, though you loved spending time with your nephews and niece, you were exhausted. So whatever was on Dean's mind, you could wait until morning to try and beat it out of him. 
You were already in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness when Dean walked in the room. He had been gone a little while, probably talking to Sam about how much he hated being at your sister's. He turned the light on when he walked in, but he immediately cursed to himself when he saw you on your side of the bed, deep under the covers. You lifted your head, looking around the room a bit confused until you found him. 
"Sorry sweetheart, didn't know you were in bed already." He flashed you an apologetic smile as he undressed himself, only leaving his boxers and plain black t-shirt on before he turned the light back off and joined you in bed. 
"It's okay," You mumbled, happily sighing when he wrapped an arm around your middle and pulled your back to his chest. "You know I have a hard time sleeping without you anyway." 
He nodded and pressed a kiss to the back of your head. He laid there, his nose brushing against your neck, happily taking in your scent as his fingers unconsciously rubbed circles over your flat stomach. He didn't know what the fuck was going through his head. But he just couldn't get rid of that image of you with your niece in your arms, how peaceful and happy you looked. Maybe you did want it, a family, and he was being selfish by not allowing you to have that because of his insecurities and past trauma. It terrified him, the idea of messing up like his father did, the idea of being just like his father. 
But maybe, maybe he was a better man than John Winchester. Maybe with such a sweet and gentle wife by his side, he had grown softer. He could be better. 
"Hey baby," He mumbled against your neck. You half opened your eyes, not quite asleep yet and you hummed at him, letting him know you were listening. "Are you still on the pill?" 
You opened your eyes fully at his question. Confused, you rolled over on your back and looked at him, "Uh yeah, why?" 
"Have you thought about, you know, not taking it anymore?" He asked, clearing his throat a bit as his fingers stilled their patterns on your stomach. You looked at him even more confused. 
"Unless you want to try abstinence, or you're missing wearing a condom, no, I haven't thought about it." You answered with furrowed brows as you looked at him in the darkness, trying to read his face. "Dean, why are you asking me this?" 
"Do you want kids?" He blurted out, not being able to control his rambling thoughts. He could've been more subtle. He sighed and continued, "I mean, would you ever want to have kids.. With me?" 
"I uh.. I mean, yeah at some point I thought about us having kids but," You paused, running your fingers up his arm reassuringly, sensing he was on edge and nervous. "I thought you didn't want kids." 
"I didn't. Not before," He sighed, his hand sneaking under your shirt to lay on your flat stomach, his wedding band feeling cold on your skin. "I honestly thought I'd be a shitty dad. I'm all kinds of fucked up. My life is a mess and I thought I'd be cruel to bring a kid into this life, raise 'em the way I was raised." 
"Dean, you're not fucked up, your life isn't exactly normal but, that doesn't mean your life is a mess. You're an amazing husband, I'm happy to be living the life I'm living with you. And you already are a good dad," You told him, your hand coming to run through his short hair. He frowned at you, like he didn't know what you meant, so you continued. "Who do you think raised Sam? Who do you think raised him to be the good man that he is? You did, you took care of him when you were just a kid, you taught him everything he knows, and he turned out well didn't he? You're a good man Dean, wouldn't that make you a good dad?"  
"God I love you." He sighed, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he leaned down, capturing your lips into a kiss. 
His hand lingered on your stomach, blunt nails scratching the skin even so slightly as his mouth covered yours. His lips were soft at first, but when he shifted so that he was hovering above you, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, taking as much as he could until you were pulling back for air. In the process, his hand had lingered further down your stomach, until his hand was slipping into your sleeping shorts. You gasped softly, feeling his middle finger brush over your clit.
"You know it's probably not gonna work if we try tonight, right?" You asked, your voice breaking when you felt one of his fingers rub small circles on your clit.
"No, I know. But there's nothing wrong with a bit of practice." His pink lips twisted into a small smirk as he dug his teeth into his bottom lip before he dived into your neck. 
His lips ravished your pressure point, sucking and slightly digging his teeth until he felt a pool of wetness coat his fingers. His lips curved upwards and he moved downwards, leaving a trail of wet kisses until he found the hem of your shorts. He pulled back, pulling his hand with him. You squirmed slightly under him, face warm when his green eyes found yours just as he pulled your shorts down your legs. He shot you a wink before his face was between your legs. You gasped softly when you felt his warm breath fan against your core, but he pressed his lips to your inner thigh instead and squeezed the other between his fingers. 
“Dean,” You exhaled heavily, trying to fight the urge to just push his head where you wanted him. He looked up, a playful glint in his eyes and his lips were curved into an equally playful smirk. 
“Yeah I know baby.” He started to move up, hearing the urgency in your voice. He pressed his lips to your hip bone and trailed up. Though his lips lingered particularly long when he found your stomach, the idea of your belly growing with his child making his cock strain against his boxers. 
Your fingers found his short hair and you pulled him up, crashing your lips against his with fervor. He settled between your parted thighs, you could already feel him against you, he wanted this as much as you did, hell maybe more. He pulled his shirt over his head before he kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and he tugged his boxers down his hips, his cock springing against his stomach. He held himself up on his forearm as he guided himself to your entrance. He groaned how wet you were, your slick walls taking him with ease. 
“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath as he looked between you, watching himself disappeaar into your walls. 
Dean didn’t waste much time. His hips found a pace, and he found it quick. It was hard and it was deep. He made sure you felt every thrust he gave you, every time he drew his hips back only to slam back in. But he wasn’t just fucking you, no. He was making love to you. He had a reason to. And fuck did he have a reason. He was fucking with you with purpose. And now that you were feeling it too, you were just as insatiable as he was. At some point, you weren't even quite sure when, Dean slipped your sleeping shirt off, which really was just one of his old t-shirts. For some reason, that habit of yours only got him off. The idea of you, his pretty wife, in his clothes. Fuck he often wondered when he ever got so lucky or if he even deserved it. 
He pulled back a little, jaw slightly hanging open as he ran a hand over your breast, kneading one between his fingers. And then he was leaning down. His mouth found one of your breasts, the nipple already hard as a rock, and he suckled, giving the bud attention until it was red and puffy. And then he switched to the other. They would get bigger and plump with substance for his child, he thought. And maybe you realized that too, because as your body arched under his, your hand came up to cup his head, fingers threading through his hair.
“Fuck, Dean please, please don’t stop.” You trembled, your voice breaking as a broken moan left your lips. He could hear the desperation in your voice, that aching need for release, he knew you better than he knew himself. 
“Come on, let me see it, let me see you fall apart,” He coaxed as he pulled back, hiking one of your legs high on his torso. He buried himself so deep it made your eyes roll into the back of your head when he brushed over your most sensitive spot. And he did it, again, and again. Until you were crying out. But what really sent you over the edge was his thumb brushing over your clit. He rubbed quick circles over the sensitive bud until your walls gripped him so tight it made his eye roll back. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s my girl.”
He held you as you trembled, his hips slightly faltering and his thrusts became a bit erratic as he chased his own release. 
“Gonna fill you up,” He groaned in your ear, your juices allowing him to bury himself just a fraction into you. You held him, arms thrown over his neck and his name leaving your lips like a faint praise. Though you were still a bit hazy, you felt him press a hand to your stomach, cold wedding band sending slight chills down your spine. “Right here.” 
You were trembling under his, thoughts barely coherent, but you breathed out, “Yes, please.”
Your lips found his jaw and your fingers pulled his hair so hard it made him groan. And suddenly he was still, buried deep inside you as pleasure overtook him. He spilled himself inside you with a groan, the muscles in his back tensing as his head fell over your neck. He sat still inside you, his pants and your own mixing in the air. He had come inside you many times before, hell, he didn’t remember the last time he didn’t, but fuck, this felt different. It felt so goddamn right, the idea of what this meant of it felt right. 
Dean moved eventually, probably when his arm got tired of holding his weight. He pressed a wet kiss to your lips before he slipped out of you, the loss of him making you hiss softly when you felt your mixed juices drip down your thigh. Though you expected him to lay down beside you but he moved down instead, and you gasped in surprise when you felt his lips on your stomach. And he pressed his forehead against your belly, his ringed hand rubbing your side gently. You felt him sigh, and you heard him mutter something you couldn’t quite make out. He kissed your belly again, for a bit longer before he was on feet, telling you he would be right back as he tugged his boxers back on. 
You were too tired to question him, you were fucked out and sleepy, so you simply nodded. You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes until you heard Dean say your name and you felt his hand on your face. You opened your eyes, squinting slightly as you looked at him. He had a wet rag on his hand, so you let him clean you up. He was silent the whole time, not a single sound came from him. And his expression was unreadable. You sometimes wished you could see what was on his man's mind. Even after being married and him opening up to you about a lot of things, the man was still impenetrable. 
He found his spot beside you eventually, the room dark as you settled on his chest. He threw an arm around you and held you while his other arm was behind his head. You shifted, head tilted back and you brought a hand to his face, palm flat on his cheek as you planted a soft kiss to his lips. He hummed. 
“You’re a good man Dean.” You said softly, catching the adoring look in his eyes, even in the darkest they were still bright. “And you’re a good husband, and there’s no one else I would rather have kids with some day.”
A smile tugged at his lips, “Some day? That means we gotta keep tryin’ right?”
You could hear the insinuation in his tone, and you could see the suggestive smile on his lips, even in the darkness, “Yes, yes we do.”
“Awesome.”
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loving-family-poll · 4 months
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Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 2
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Propaganda under the cut:
Amma/Camille:
The sexual and romantic overtones in both the book and the TV show are deliciously disturbing and creepy. They love each other so much, and it is horrible
amma and camille literally kissed with tongue and camille loves her so much she's worried she'll hurt her. THEY SLEEP IN THE SAME BED BECAUSE SHE BEGGED HER TO.
Amma canonically refers to her as her soulmate. They KISSED.
Dean/John:
when a son becomes his mother to comfort and support his dad, sometimes it’s normal and fine (i guess). this is not one of these times. twelve years after his father’s death he still can’t speak ill of him. he can’t even escape him in heaven
dean is john's sonwife whom he exploits sexually and has given him a wedding ring and a cloak. he puts dean through military bootcamp while he also raises their son, sam. john dies and goes to hell for him. dean is in love with john
As close to canon as possible on the CW. Dean's issues with his father run deep, and the effects of their relationship are explored all throughout the show. More than one character seemed to have picked up on the incestuous and abusive nature of their relationship. But the abuse of power does not erase Dean's fierce love and devotion for his father, which is terribly sad and thrilling to witness
https://www.tumblr.com/egipci/705080358900809728/dean-he-never-hit-me-except-for-the-time-sam-ran?source=share
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apocalypseornaw · 5 months
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Love You Better (Pt 4/5)
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Dean Winchester x Reader
Dean finally sees what him pulling away has done to you.
Warnings: cursing, mention of sex?
A/N : next part is the finale and nothing but smut and fluff. Just FYI
You'd already talked to Sam and to Charlie, whatever was going on with Dean wasn't anything to do with the poison from the Djinn. With no other option you decided to call Jax.
You were in the library, your feet pulled under you in a chair as you talked to him on the phone. "Did anything else happen? He's still acting off and it's worrying me. If something happens to him...I don't know what I'd do Jax" "Nothing besides the Djinn, what's going on if you don't mind me asking?" You let out a breath unsure if you should be talking to your ex about your relationship problems. "He's just not acting like Dean should"
Jax as always seemed to know when to stop pushing because he simply said "Y/N, you love Dean don't you?" You closed your eyes because Dean didn't even know that yet and you didn't want to admit it to Jax. At your silence he chuckled "The way you look at him is your tell honey" you laughed lightly "Ok so you already know the answer to the question so why ask it?"
He tsk tsked then said "Easy killer. I'm just saying I've known you for years. You love Dean and from the way he looks at you he loves you. Do what you do best, dig your heels in and fight. Tell him how you feel and maybe then when your cards are out and on the table he'll let you in about whatever he's dealing with" you laughed more from shock of Jax saying something so deep than anything before asking "When did you get so smart" you could hear the grin in his voice before he said "Oh come on now we all have our moments"
He had to go after that because Alicia and Max got to his place so he had to help them. You sat staring at the phone, trying to form a gameplan on how to talk to Dean.
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Dean stood under the hot water feeling it beat his sore muscles into submission. Every inch of his body was tense. He wasn't sleeping well and days weren't better. A flash of the sounds you made with Jax went through his mind but this time it was replaced by an image you under him instead. He could nearly feel your fingernails cutting into his shoulders, hear you moan his name.
What was he doing letting some Djinn dream come between you? Yeah he was worried that maybe you'd end up deciding you wanted more than him, that you'd tuck tail and run but he was also taking that choice away from you by not talking to you.
He may not have the business like Jax or the house or even halfway mental stability but he loved you. With every ounce of his being he fucking loved you. He'd fight heaven and hell to earn you another day living. He knew every inch of your body better than any other man you'd ever been with. He knew how to make you fall apart time and again, how to bring you higher than any other lover ever had. You were his dammit and if he lost you it wouldn't be because he hadn't tried to keep you.
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Once he was dried he just slipped on boxers and sleep pants before going in search of you. Enough was enough he could concentrate on the real world, who's name you were really moaning and who you were really underneath. He could show you that he could love you better and he could prove it.
When he got to your shared bedroom he expected to find you waiting on him, maybe reading or listening to music but when he opened the door instead he found the room empty. Shit.
His heart dropped to his stomach. Where were you? You'd said you were going to bed. He knew your favorites rooms were the library, the TV room or the shooting range. Your gun was on the dresser and your favorite blanket was on the bed so that marked off the TV room or the shooting range. Library it was.
When he started to walk past the kitchen he saw the light was on so he stopped wondering if it was you or Sam then he heard a sound that shattered his heart, you sniffling. He eased to the door and found you sitting at the table, your favorite mug that had little black cats all over it in front of you.
You were staring blankly into the cup and apparently hadn't heard him come in. God, had he done this? Had he gotten so lost in his own head he hadn't realized what it was going to you? "Sweetheart?"
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You'd been laying in bed, thinking about how to start the conversation with Dean but no matter how it went in your head that little voice always managed to interfere. The little voice that said "Lisa never made him doubt his feelings" "He's never had no problems fucking one night stands" "Dean's a man who knows what he wants and apparently that's not you"
When tears threatened to come you threw the blankets off and quickly left the room. Your feet found you in the kitchen in front of the cabinet that held the bourbon. You knew that wasn't a good idea so instead you went for some tea Alicia had sent you. It was supposed to help you calm down.
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You'd tried to fight off the what ifs the entire time you made the cup but once you sat down at the table they all came crashing down. This wasn't like you, you didn't cry easy but this distance with Dean? It was slowly ripping your heart out. You'd never felt about anyone the way you felt about Dean.
You saw tears hit the surface of the tea and hadn't even realized you were crying yet. You sniffled, trying to remain as quiet as possible in case Sam got up. You hadn't heard anyone in the hall so when Dean's voice hit your ears you jumped hard enough you nearly spilled the tea "Dean?"
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Dean walked over to the table, standing about a foot from you so you turned to look up at him "What's wrong Y/N?" You let out a watery laugh as more tears started to fall "You tell me Dean. What is wrong? I've tried now for two weeks to get you to talk to me, to kiss me, to touch me but I keep getting turned down. I love you and I don't even feel like that's enough"
His heart flipped hearing those words come from you. You loved him? Your eyes were cast downward refusing to meet his "I've never felt like this for someone Dean" he crossed the space between you kneeling in front of where you sat. He reached out to touch your face gently, tilting it up so you had to meet his eyes. He used his thumb to wipe the tears away "Y/N..." he trailed off at the look in your eyes. Every word he had was swallowed by the overwhelming urge to kiss you, to show you just how much he craved you, needed you.
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The moment his lips met yours you melted against him. A small sob escaped you and he swallowed it hungrily as your hands slid up around his neck, fingers tangling in the short hair there. One hand was at your neck holding your head in place while the other found your hip pulling you almost off the chair and into his lap, when you pulled away to catch your breath he moved to your neck kissing every inch of flesh his mouth could find "I love you" he spoke against your skin repeating it like a prayer.
You pulled back to look at him and god that look, he'd do anything you asked of him as long as you looked at him like that. "You do?" You asked and the uncertainty in your voice hurt him to his core. He nodded pulling you back into another kiss before saying "We'll talk later but for now please sweetheart let me make it up to you, let me show you just how much I want you. Please"
You couldn't help the whimper that escaped you. Dean Winchester was on his knees telling you that he loved you and begging you to let him show you just how much. "Take me to our room Dean" was all it took and he was pulling you to your feet, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that made your head swim and heat flood between your thighs. Fuck, you'd missed him.
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jackles010378 · 3 months
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An Unthinkable Choice....
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(Dean Winchester X you)
(Mentions of death and funeral)
Dean can't decide between saving you or Sammy, so you make the decision for him.....
When Dean found himself in the impossible situation of having to choose between saving you or his beloved brother Sammy, the weight of the decision was palpable. The bond between brothers ran deep, and Dean couldn't imagine a world without either of you.
As the anguished expression crossed Dean's face, you could see the hesitation in his eyes. The inner turmoil tore at his heart, tearing apart the very fabric of his being. Every instinct told him that he had to save both of you, but reality had dealt a cruel hand, demanding that he make an unthinkable choice.
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It was at that moment that you stepped forward, your resolve shining through the fear in your eyes. You knew what had to be done. Without a moment's hesitation, you sacrificed yourself, throwing your body in the path of the impending danger. Dean's cries of protest were drowned out by the roar of the oncoming threat. Time seemed to stand still as your selfless act unfolded.
In that split second, everything changed. The world seemed to dim as your life force faded away, leaving Dean devastated and desperate to reach your side. He cradled your motionless body, his trembling hands brushing strands of hair from your face. Tears streamed down his face as he whispered words of regret mixed with love and gratitude. Sammy ran over to be by your side, trying to console his brother. He knew how much Dean loved you.
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"You silly, brave idiot," Dean whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Why did you have to do that? We could have found another way. I can't lose you... not like this." Dean picked you up, carrying you out to the impala. Laying you gently on the back seat. No words were spoken as he and Sammy drove back to the bunker, both of them looking back at your lifeless body every now and then.
When they got back to the bunker Sammy went to help Dean get you out of the car "don't touch her" he snapped at his brother. He didn't mean to shout at Sam, he knew he must of felt somewhat guilty about you dying. But Dean didn't blame him. As Sam made his way down the bunker steps, Dean followed behind with you in his arms. He laid you on the bed you had shared together. Brushing the hair out of your face, he placed your hands over your heart. He didn't want to believe you had gone, but he knew. Deep down inside he knew. He didn't want to leave you on your own, so he lay by your side. Sam knocked on the door to tell him he had phoned Jody and Bobby and that they were on their way. Dean didn't budge, he just lay there staring at you.
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As your funeral was prepared, hunters from all corners of the country gathered to pay their respects. The air was heavy with grief and admiration for your sacrifice. Dean couldn't bring himself to speak, his pain silenced by the weight of his loss. But his presence spoke volumes, his steadfast devotion evident to all.
The hunters knew that this was not an ordinary funeral. It would be a ceremony befitting of a true hero. Dean worked tirelessly, constructing a pyre from seasoned timber. He wouldn't let anyone help, he wanted it to be perfect, it was for you after all. His love.
At the appointed time, Dean stepped forward to light the pyre, his hands trembling with a mixture of sorrow, love, and gratitude. The flames leapt to life, consuming the wood and transforming it into a blaze that reached for the heavens. As the fire crackled and roared, a bittersweet peace settled over the gathering.
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The hunters didn't mourn your loss in silence. Instead, they shared stories of your bravery, your wit, and your unwavering dedication to the fight against evil. They spoke of your laughter, the sound of which could bring hope even in the darkest of times. And as the tales unfolded, the weight of grief and loss was lifted, replaced by a celebration of your extraordinary life.
Dean, though still broken, found solace in this bittersweet ceremony. He knew that your sacrifice would never be forgotten, that your memory would live on in the hearts of those whose lives you had touched. And as he looked to the sky, he whispered a promise to you, his voice carried by the wind.
"I won't let your sacrifice be in vain," Dean vowed, his eyes shining with determination. "I'll keep fighting. I'll keep Sammy safe. And I'll make sure that your spirit lives on."
In the end, it was not just a hunter's funeral but a testament to the power of sacrifice, love, and the unbreakable bond that held you all together. As the flames continued to burn, lighting up the night with their fiery glow, Dean stood strong, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. Your sacrifice had given him the strength to carry on, to fight for a world where love conquered darkness and heroes were never forgotten.
TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden
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sunforgrace · 8 months
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the beer bobby gives dean tasting like “the first one [he] ever shared with his dad.” clearly intended to be received by the audience as a sentimental nostalgic moment. it ain’t just heaven dean it’s the heaven you deserve. and we’ve been waitin for ya. dean saying about fred a friend of john’s “that guy gave me my first beer. i don’t even think i was double digits.” sam replying me too. john and mary live up the road. there will always be the man in your house. you don’t have a house. just a road and a car and empty space.
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thefandomchaos · 1 month
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Look I don’t care if it’s copied or not- Sam and Dean and Damon and Stefan dying and ending up in heaven together is everything to me. Damon din’t stay with Elena, he went to Stefan. Sam died and went to Dean, not his wife who we can imagine is dead (or Jess).
Like- I still can never get over the fact that Sam and Dean are soulmates and if Jack hadn’t changed Heaven, they would have still ended up in a shared heaven, but that they still do after? Beautiful.
Damon letting go of Elena so they can both be with their family? The call back to “Hello brother”, the hug?! (Look I’m admittedly still starting with TVD but your girls been spoiled about everything and idc, I’ve watched that scene and cry, and when I actually get too it in the series I’m going too cry harder)
Jensen and Jared, Ian and Paul, portraying the relief and happiness of finally being together again, I love them so much. It also such a sad/beautiful moment when you realize it was the last scene of both their shows, the behind the scenes of both of this make me cry so much as well, especially when they don’t exactly let go yet, that realization of its all over, and their still clinging to it. (Ian and Paul still hugging, Jared not letting go of the bridge-)
Damn this shows with their beautiful brothers and their relationships that make me want to cry
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vampzmeel · 1 month
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why does no one talk about sam and deans heaven’s being interlinked, like dean is told that only people with profound bonds share/can travel to (easily) another person’s heaven. dean being able to find and enter sam’s heaven so easily is rare and abnormal.
THEY ARE LITERALLY SOUL MATES. like its so crazy to me.
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oscarwiide · 4 months
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sam and dean had a forehead touch scene and then shared an eternity in heaven together after waiting a lifetime to be reunited in death and i’m supposed to be normal about it ???
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heartthrobin · 9 months
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making merry, oh my little fairy (2)
sam winchester x fairy!reader
wc: 5.3k
warnings: soulmate!au (partners share scars), fem!reader, implied age gap (reader is early 20's), hella pining, tooth-rotting fluff, destiel is canon, town being mean to reader, some shaky police jargon, references to thick reader (everyone cheered) but can be ignored, dean being dean, canon-typical warnings (child kidnapping, violence ect.)
an: part 2 of my little fairy series! it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks and part 1 was pretty unpopular so i've been hesitant to post it but then i realized i write for myself and not for recognition! so enjoyyyyy. remember to comment and repost to support your favourite writers :)
summary: you flew around Sam's mind with your pretty little wings all night and all day, it doesn't help that you're popping up around every corner of this case. he's trying not to think about it.
part one part three part four
They'd sat in the car parked out front maybe longer than they should have. Sam noticed you peak through the curtain at the twenty minute mark, he only noticed because he could feel your curious gaze.
It disturbed him enough to allow Dean to fly down the neighbourhood road noisily at too many miles an hour.
Naturally, sleep became a stranger.
Dean was long passed out on the questionably lumpy motel bed and Sam was still at the desk. The white light off his laptop made his eyes itch.
A dryad is a tree nymph, commonly inhabiting oak trees, and generally born into the form of beautiful women. Many dryads were considered to be originally human or children of the nature Gods and it is widely believed that they take on the physical characteristics of the trees they protect.
Your eyes returned to him again, if not for the hundredth time that day. The way the greenery reflected off of them at him. The strength of your legs, how they were wide and grounding like the tree that engulfed your house. Your movements, your walk, how you floated like how the leaves shivered in the forest beyond your garden walls.
Sam had given considerable thought to his soulmate, as most people did.
He was turning thirty-one in a few months time and it had occurred to him that maybe you were on the other side of the world. Maybe you were dead. But people had warned him that he'd know if that were true. He'd feel it, like a gaping wound in his soul.
Castiel had appeared to Dean in a flash of light. In a heroic swoop of love, and Sam thought maybe that could happen to him too.
His thumb was warm where it ran over the scar down his arm.
He wondered if you thought the same.
If you dreamed of his arrival the way he'd dreamed of yours.
It was a silly thing, to dream of meeting your true love. Far too trivial in the life of someone like Sam Winchester when the fate of the world, of good versus evil and heaven versus hell was always in the palm of his hand.
But your figure was burned into his corneas like a blinding torch.
It scared him. Not an easy feat for the man who'd seen it all.
Sam had asked Dean a few years back.
Can someone live without their soulmate?
Dean had shrugged. "Sure, plenty of people do."
Sam had sunk back another sip of his beer at the time, they were somewhere in Florida.
"What if they'd already met them? Can they decide that they don't want to be with them?"
Dean chuckled at that. "I doubt that works out very often."
It was already long after Dean had met Castiel. Long after he'd survived his "my soulmate is an angel and a man what the fuck--" stage.
"What makes you say that? I'm sure some people have a strong enough willpower."
Dean had answered him by referencing some movie, one that Sam knew he loved and it took a bit of pestering for Dean to admit he knew the quote by heart.
He'd blushed nearly red and shrugged, accompanying it by another long slug of his beer.
"It's like at the end of the movie--" When Harry Met Sally, specifically, "When they're at that New Years party and Billy Crystal goes up to Meg Ryan and gives that whole speech, and he says that line."
Sam was grinning by then. "What line?"
Like he hadn't seen the movie enough times to know.
"You know, he when says ... when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
Sam had long made peace with the fact that even if you did ever come around, that it would be better to leave you be. To leave you in the safety of a life different to his own.
At least he had.
In the slim hours since leaving your doorstep he'd found himself choking over the thought of never seeing you again. Of his eyes never laying again on your face that gazed so happily up into his own, like you felt his warmth in a cold winter.
He was plagued, possessed, by the thought of never knowing more.
Never knowing the way you liked your tea, how you looked first thing in the morning, or worse, how your lips would feel slow and warm against his own.
He wanted to know your favourite song, and your worst fear. He wanted to know where you came from, how you found Fernglade, Washington. What's your favourite book, do you like to read? Would you like it if he read to you instead? Maybe you would, you'd be tucked against his side in bed and he'd tell you about his favourites. His favourite movies and the way he drinks his coffee and the shampoo he used. Maybe you'd play with his hair, braiding little flowers into the ends--
Sam groaned. His face fell into his hands.
This wasn't supposed to be happening. Not now.
But he supposed there would never be an adequate time for your arrival.
And god, you weren't even human.
Cross species soulmates weren't impossible - improbable, sure (about as much as being hit by lightening) - but not impossible.
It was only Sam's luck, the Winchester's luck, that they'd both been struck.
Castiel was an angel, but the concept seemed to fade off Dean quickly at the time.
Dean himself had been little help on the matter during the blurry drive back to the motel. "Hey. I mean, all things considered, fairy sex must be crazy."
Sam closed the tab on Dryads: A Modern Day Delve into Greek Mythology. Another page blinked up at him.
When the sun was still setting and Dean was still seated across from him, he had managed to do some work.
It distracted him, barely, but he managed to somewhat narrow the list of potential suspects.
The filters helped. Creatures that steal children. Creatures that live in the woods.
In all the webpages and in some text from John's journal he'd found a common thread. A thinly veiled one, but a lead regardless.
Goblins are generally found living in communities in burrows of forests across Western America. They are known to be mischievous and malignant spirits which often feed on small animals or easy prey and hunt during the warmer months before hibernating in Winter.
Children are easy prey, Sam thought.
Some subspecies were believed to be able to shift into the form of naughty children and sneak into nearby villages to prey on young humans.
It was the last thing his eyes ran over before he slipped the laptop shut. He crawled to the bed, wishing more than anything that his mind would cut him a break, before sliding under the sheets: seeking respite from the crisp autumn Washington
-
"Rise and shine, Sammy."
The hangers reeled noisily against the rod where Dean had ripped open the curtains and the stark light brought Sam to gasping consciousness.
Sam pulled the pillow up over his face, grumbling into it.
He made out the sound of Dean setting a coffee mug on the side table.
"What time did you get to sleep?"
Answered by another indiscernible whine, Dean sunk into the chair at the tiny table in the room. "Fine, fine ... but did you find anything helpful? Besides fairy porn probably."
It earned him a well-aimed smack in the face with a pillow.
Dean laughed jovially, "Okay, okay."
Sam rose up into a sitting position with a moan. He ran a hand over his face, the other grappling for the already cooling coffee mug on the table.
"Goblins." He muttered around the rim.
Dean paused his own sip, face falling into incredulity.
"Did you just say "goblins"?"
Sam nodded. He didn't elaborate.
"Listen, I know it's a conversation you probably don't wanna have ... but are you sure we're ruling out your little garden fairy from this equation? I mean, it really doesn't look good for her--"
"You're right. I don't want to have this conversation."
Dean shrugged. He fiddled with the coffee mug against his hand.
"It's not her." Sam added quietly.
Nodding slowly, Dean watched his brother with tentative eyes. "Have you thought about that? What you're gonna do?"
Sam rose from the bed, stripping off his shirt. "I don't know man. I don't even think she knows."
It had been a thought that occurred to him at some point in the previous night, that you didn't know. That it was probably selfish to keep it to himself.
"Right, well anyway," Dean reached into the tupperware you'd gifted them the previous afternoon. He'd already cleared out his own and was starting on a pastry from Sam's box. "I was thinking we should go speak to the third vic's mom. Kelly Williams. We haven't spoken to them yet and maybe they can tell us more."
Sam nodded. "Sure. You got an address?"
"No, but she's working a stall at..." Dean picked up a leaflet from the table that Sam assumed he'd found on his coffee run before he was up, "The Fernglade Sunday Market. We can find her there."
"Fine."
He disappeared into the bathroom, Dean heard the shower turn on.
"And you can tell me about this goblins story on the way there!" He called after him.
The door slammed shut.
-
"So you think goblins are coming into town and stealing kids out their back yards?"
The morning was warm and the market made it more so. It was out on a farm a couple roads down from the boys' motel.
There were little set-up stalls as far as he could see over lush green grass, selling cakes and jewellery and home-made soaps. Couples strolled hand-in-hand and children chased their parent's ankles.
Sam shrugged. "I mean yeah, it makes sense. Dad mentioned about the trees, Y/n mentioned about the forest too."
Dean nodded, his eyes rolling over the scenery. "Sure, but goblins? I've never heard of that anywhere, I mean, how do you even kill it?"
"Them." Sam corrected. "They live in groups."
Dean sighed. "Well that's gonna be fun."
Somewhere down the row, a man was singing behind a set up microphone with a guitar in his lap. A small crowd had formed to watch him.
Sam's stomach had begun churning with that feeling that made his organs feel like jelly again. He shrugged against the collar of his shirt.
"Right, well, there's Kelly Williams' stall." Dean glanced again down at the pamphlet, "Rings and Things ... how creative--"
But Sam's eyes had found on another stall. One further down from Kelly Williams', a little set-up of vases and stain glass sculptures. Rather ... they found the woman standing in front of it.
Of course it was you.
Standing against the breeze in another, unsurprisingly, light green dress. It was ruffled and shimmering and glittery and short. It made Sam's airways tighten to a shut.
You seemed intent on avoiding wearing anything that draped any further than just over the curve of your ass, and Sam prayed to anyone listening that it would stay that way.
"Sammy?"
Dean's face shrunk in confusion, he followed his brother's line of sight. He began to laugh, clearly finding you, and jostled Sam with a hand on his shoulder. "Well, isn't this just your luck."
Sam was sucking in deep breaths again. Dean shoved him in the side.
"Go talk to her, I'll speak to Mrs Williams."
Jumping back into semi-consciousness, Sam shook his head, "No, no, it's fine. We'll go--"
"Stop being a baby, Sam." Dean shrugged him off. "You're gonna have to talk to her eventually. And I hope you do a better job than you did yesterday, because that was a train-wreck."
"Thanks."
But Dean's figure was already retreating.
"Asshole." Sam muttered under his breath.
Eyes found you again, they strained against the sunlight. He could make out your face from where he stood: it was twisting, falling into a creased brow that Sam didn't like the look of.
His legs began moving before he had chance to instruct them and it only took a couple paces of his long structure to find your side, heart thumping violently in his ears.
Your eyes lifted from the table, there was an elderly lady sitting in the shade of the cover and looking unimpressed.
"Sam." You smiled up at him and he swore in that second he could listen to you saying his name forever on repeat and never grow bored. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Hey." He sighed, it was louder than he anticipated and he could feel his cheeks growing warmer. "W-What are you doing here?"
You stuttered, "Well, I was just looking at this cute little crocodile--"
His eyes found where your hand was motioning over the woman's table. He was unsurprised to find it littered with stained-glass sculptures of animals. Lions and fish and elephants among others.
But the woman interrupted before you could find the end of your sentence.
"I don't sell to kidnappers."
Her elderly face was curled up in disgust. Sam was taken aback by her directness.
He was more taken aback by your polite smile at her.
"That's fine. I'll be on my way." You nodded kindly, looking back up to Sam. "Wanna take a walk?"
Sam's bones had begun aching with fury in the small seconds since he'd arrived. His brow-bone was heavy set against his eyes.
He glanced over at the crocodile you'd referenced. It was about the size of a shoebox, glassy in bottle green tones and grinning a mouthful of sharp teeth up at him. He could already see it sitting happily on a spot between your books and photo frames, maybe up on the mantle above your fireplace.
Brushing softly against your elbow with his hand, a movement that sent a stone cold shiver up his whole body, he shook his head. "Just one sec--"
He turned to the woman, sticking his finger in the direction of the lifeless creature.
"I'd like to buy that crocodile please."
"Oh, Sam, you don't have to--"
But the woman was unmoved, "No. I'm not selling anything to anyone associated with her."
She stuck a shaking finger in your direction and Sam suddenly wanted to rip the stall to pieces.
"We should just go..." Your voice was small and he fought hard against pulling your frame into his side.
Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket for his FBI identification: flipping it out into the daylight for the woman to see. Her eyes widened behind thinly framed spectacles.
"I said I'd like to buy that crocodile." His voice was stern, heavy laden with his trembling aggravation. "How much is it?"
The woman's face flickered between emotions, before settling on vexation. "Forty dollars." She mumbled.
"I'm sorry?"
"Forty dollars." She replied more clearly, face turning red in embarrassment.
Sam slipped away his badge and dug for his wallet in his pocket, he flipped between the notes and handed her two twenty dollar bills. The woman was quiet while she wrapped the creature, avoiding your and Sam's eyes in the process.
She handed it over with a scathing, "Get away from my stall."
"With pleasure." He turned to you, your face was a cherry red shade. "I'll take you up on that walk."
You stepped away, offering a small sheepish "thanks" to the woman scowling at your and Sam's retreating figures.
"Here." He handed you the crocodile gently, and you took it with tentative hands. "Get a lot of that?"
But you shrugged off his question, grabbing for your purse. "You really didn't need to do this, Sam. Let me just pay you--"
Sam stopped, taking your forearm into his hand - the tingle it sent up his body again didn't go amiss - and he huffed. "Please, please. Don't. It's a gift."
The sun was shining off your dress and it made your face seem lighter. "Sam, really, I can't ask you to--"
"Please?"
You paused, lashes blinking carefully up at him and god he could really kiss you right there--
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
Smiling again, easing the tightness in Sam's chest, you nodded. "Fine."
You held the crocodile up to your face, "What are we gonna name him?"
"We?" Sam laughed and you laughed back at him.
"Sure, he's ours now." You tucked it under your arm again.
Ours. He was fragmentally taken away with the thought of something belonging to them, to us. A house, a couch, a dog (or a fox if that's what you wanted)--
"Anyways, where's the other one?"
Sam was brought back to the conversation.
"Oh, uh, Dean?" his eyes grazed over the stalls, pointing over to where Dean was talking with the tall Kelly Williams behind a tray of seashell necklaces. "Talking to one of the victims."
"Right, I almost forgot." You fiddled with your bag over your shoulder. "He decided whether he's killing me yet?"
His mouth tilted teasingly. "What makes you think that I've decided I'm not here to kill you?"
You shrugged, teeth flashing in a gut-wrenchingly beautiful smile. "Well, you bought me this, and ... you don't seem the type."
"The type?"
"Nah, you're too sweet on me already."
Sam's stomach did a somersault in his chest. "I--"
"Besides, you couldn't do it here. Too much blood, too many witnesses ..."
Sam's hair flicked over his shoulder where he tossed his head back to laugh. "Right. You've thought about the logistics already."
"Sure have." You nodded. "Any headway on the kids?"
"Some." He shrugged. "There's this fairy--"
"Dryad."
"--living in this petting zoo in this cottage on the outskirts of town..."
"Fine." You conceded. "I won't ask."
"No, but we have--"
"Ah, look at you two. Getting along like a house on fire."
Sam hadn't noticed his brother's approaching footsteps. Dean clapped a jolly hand over his brother's arm.
You smiled in greeting. "Good morning Dean."
He nodded. "'Morning Tinkerbell."
"Dean."
Chuckling you nodded. "Good one. Haven't heard that before."
The sun was hot on Sam's shoulders, Dean was making it hotter with his conspicuous side eye.
"What's that you got there?" He motioned over the figure under your arm.
You lifted it up proudly, "It's my crocodile. Sam got it for me. The lady wouldn't sell it to me."
"Oh, Sam got it for you, huh?" Dean smirked, relishing in the admission.
"Yep."
The glitter in your eye was making Sam's knees buckle.
"W-We should get going ..." He shifted from his one leg to the other. "Work to do ... and stuff."
"Right," you agreed, fixing the strap over your shoulder again. "I should also head home, not very welcome 'round here anyways."
Confusion glazed briefly over Dean's face but he said nothing on it.
"Yeah, stuff to do." He nodded.
You began your walk past them, finding Sam's gaze. "Thanks again, Sam. I'll see you boys around."
His eyes followed you where your crystals were clinking around your neck. "Yeah. No problem."
Barely out of your earshot, Dean turned to Sam. "A crocodile, huh?"
"Shut up."
-
It wasn't another two days before Sam saw you again.
The boys dove head first back into research, Mrs Kelly Washington hadn't much more to add beyond the fact that she heard another child's voice in the moments before her daughter's disappearance.
"I mean, there was some mention in the lore about goblins being able to turn into kids. Naughty ones at that."
Dean sighed over his bar-top lunch. He took another swig of beer.
"Okay, so what, these ... goblins are coming into town as children and grabbing the kids from their yards? Maybe they'd met somewhere before then, at school or the park?"
Sam shifted the salad around his plate, bored. "Yeah, maybe."
There was a depressingly thin amount of information in John's journal on goblins and the website lore was too broad to even begin sifting through it before another child was taken.
"Well we know that eight kids are taken each time, right?"
Nodding, Sam took an unenthusiastic bite of tomato.
"That means there's still two kids to be taken. I mean, there's only been six victims and autumn is two weeks away from ending, if the story is true that they hunt before winter."
The boy's didn't have to wait long. They were less than an hour clear of the dilapidated bar they'd stopped in for lunch when the call came over the police monitor in the car.
"Units, this is dispatch. We have a suspected 134 at 98 Calvary, requesting assistance."
Code 134. Kidnapping.
Dean found Sam's eye across the front seat before taking a screeching turn into the next street.
Cavalry road was just a few streets down and the scene was as they'd expected. Burning red and blue cop cars littered the street and Dean pulled the Impala into a space between them.
There was a scuffle of officers, in the corner of the driveway a man holding a sobbing woman to his chest. The parents.
Dean and Sam flashed their badges at the nearest deputy.
"What's the situation?"
The officer huffed, tightening his grip on either side of his belt. "We think the kid was taken, Frankie Moore. Disappeared about two hours ago, the parents only called in the last twenty minutes. They thought he'd just run off."
Dean nodded and Sam watched over the scene around him.
"Any witnesses?"
The cop shook his head, Taylor, his badge read. "None. Right out the backyard, just like the others."
"Did the parents see anything, hear anything?" Sam pressed.
"Not from what we can gather from them right now, they're pretty out of shape." Taylor motioned back to where the Mrs Moore was desperately pushing out sentencing between racking sobs. "But we've got a suspect, they're out fetching them right now."
Dean glanced over the officer, "A suspect?"
Sam's hands were starting to itch. He twisted them against his the cuffs of his sleeve.
"Yeah, neighbour saw them out in the forest about an hour ago. Called it into dispatch. They never took it seriously until this call came in."
Somewhere behind them a short siren yelped from one of the cars.
"Did they have the kid or what?" Dean's face was laden with confusion, the story twisting around his brain.
"No, but they've been taken in on suspicion. Talk of the town and such." Taylor responded and Sam's heart sunk to his knees.
There was a click over the officer's radio. "Suspect is in custody."
He pulled it closer to his mouth, "Copy that."
Sam tugged up on the end of his sleeve, revealing his wrists in the afternoon light. They were turning a pinkish red. Handcuffs.
"Dean."
Dean's back stiffened at his brother's tone, eyes finding his wrists. He sighed. "You've got to be kidding me."
Sam's brain was turning muddy. "The suspect, is she a woman?"
Taylor nodded. "As far as I know, yes."
-
There was nothing else said.
Sam fled the scene as if the perpetrator himself. He flew into the passenger's seat with the force of an attacking bear.
Dean chased after him, slotting the key into the ignition: setting the car alight.
"Sam, I know what you're thinking--"
Houses flew past the car, streets and pedestrians, but Sam had no space to consider them.
"You don't know what I'm thinking."
But Dean was persistent, knuckles white around the wheel. "She's your ... your soulmate, I get that, but our leads are thin. Have you considered that she could really be doing this?"
The station came into view at the end of the road. Lights from the cars were flashing in Sam's eyes. His head spun.
"She's not a monster, Dean."
"But she is, Sam! She is! She's not a human."
Dean pushed down on the brake in front of the sheriff's station and Sam was out the car before it had fully pulled to a stop.
He threw the doors open. Officers were flocking around like seagulls over an abandoned hot dog.
Sam grabbed the arm of the nearest one, firm in his grip.
"The suspect, where is she?"
"Uh, they've just moved her to--"
The doors swung open again behind him and the rumbling of the station was overpowered by a loud low whine. It was followed by an equally distressed yelp.
Sam turned to find a row of officers, leading one after the other like ducks, each with a rattling metal cage of a different animal. Your animals.
Goose was yipping wildly in the confines of the box. A woman holding Lydia followed him. They come in procession: the rabbits, the ferrets, the ducks, the budgies.
"What the fuck!" An officer close to the door jumped out the way where Lydia hissed angrily at him from between the bars.
"No, please!"
Sam spun on his heel. His hands felt heavy with helplessness. It was your voice, echoing across the station and reverberating in his brain.
"Please, just leave them! They're not gonna hurt anyone. I haven't done anything--"
His feet chased after the sound. Sam found a long corridor near the back of the room, there were two officers tugging on either of your arms. Your eyes were bouncing wildly between each of the officers where they disappeared into the evidence room with your pets.
Your gaze found his own. "Sam!"
"Y/n." He was bounding down the corridor, long stretches of leg, but the officers were adamant in their grip.
"Sam, I promise I didn't-- it wasn't me. I swear--"
There was a loud huff and a heave and you stumbled backwards into a closed holding cell. Your hands wrapped between the bars.
"I know," Sam was breathless. "I know you didn't--"
Suddenly there was hands on his chest. "Sir, you need to get out of here."
"I need to speak with her--"
"Sir you can't do that. You need to speak to the sheriff."
Sam's chest was rumbling with a frenzied desperation. He couldn't pull his eyes off the fragments of your figure behind the bars.
The officers shoved him again. "Sir--"
He ripped himself off their grip, hair flushed back against his reddening face and he turned back down the corridor.
Dean was already at the sheriff's desk.
"--suspicious behaviour--"
"What the hell is going on?" Sam's voice rumbled across the room. "On what basis are you holding her?"
The sheriff was a small man and he looked smaller under Sam's furious stature.
"It's like I was telling your partner here, agent," He was patting a handkerchief over his balding head. "Y/n Y/l/n is being held on the basis of suspicious activity."
"What exactly is your definition of suspicious activity?"
The sheriff shrugged, "Well we got a call in of her roaming around the forest--"
Sam could feel his fists tightening at his sides, "What are people not allowed to go into the forest in this town or does that make them all kidnappers? You have no evidence--"
"Sammy, calm down." Dean's hand found Sam's chest but he shrugged him off.
"Release her. Right now."
But the sheriff shook his head. "Unfortunately, not even FBI have the power to do that. State's laws say she can be detained for 12 hours pending investigative procedures."
"Investigative procedures--?"
By then, Dean had him by the arm. "Okay, okay. Let's go cool off--"
He tugged Sam towards the door, surprising both himself and Dean by allowing him to do so successfully.
The cool dusk air rushed over his face. Sam took a deep breath.
"They have no evidence, Dean--"
"I get that, but you need to calm down. You're not helping the situation by threatening the sheriff."
An officer passed them with another cage. Three hedgehogs.
Sam ran a hand over his face. He took a deep breath.
"You don't even believe she's innocent, Dean."
There was quiet for a long moment.
Sam fell into a bench bolted against the side of the building. His hands found his face again. After a moment, Dean crouched into the spot beside him.
"Look." He sighed. "If you believe her, I believe you. Alright?"
Sam's eyes were watching his shoes. He nodded, only half believing his brother's claim.
They sat like that for nearly an hour with evening settling over Fernglade around them and the autumn crisp seeping into their suits.
After a long resounding silence, one that had stretched on past Dean's wide yawn, Dean rose to his feet.
"Sammy, we should go home. Get some headway on this goblins angle."
At that, Sam shook his head. "I'm gonna stay."
"What, until she's out?"
"Yeah."
Dean's eyes were dripping in pity and it made Sam's blood boil.
"That's--" he raised his watch into his eyeline, "She's still got another ten hours. It's only six o' clock now."
Sam nodded. "Yeah."
"Sam--"
"Dean."
Another cold silence.
Sam pressed his hair back with a wide hand, conceding. "Look, I'm sorry. But I'm gonna stay. You head back to the motel, do some work and get some sleep. I'll be fine."
Dean considered him, but he made no further argument and Sam thought momentarily it was maybe because he knew he couldn't budge him in the same argument with Cas.
"Alright. Fine." Dean nodded, tugging his jacket closer against the cold. "I'll see you in the morning."
Sam watched his brother's retreating figure all the way until the Impala had disappeared down the next street before going to stand.
The doors swung open with a whine, the station had cooled to a quieter buzz than when he'd first burst in. The sheriff had disappeared into an office off in the corner of the room.
Finding the nearest officer, Johnson, behind a short wooden desk, Sam approached him.
Officer Johnson glanced warily up at him from the papers he'd been filling out. He'd probably been witness to his first outburst.
"Uhm," Sam cooled his voice to a deferential timber. "The animals at the back, what's gonna happen to them?"
The officer set his pen down, "Well I'm doing the paperwork on them now. They'll be released if and when she does."
"If?"
He shrugged, "Yeah, if they don't find anything they'll let her go. Only got twelve hours."
Sam shifted his weight, running his eyes over the station. Somehow it was colder inside than the bench he'd just abandoned.
"Right."
The image returned to him again of your tiny green dress, the satin sleeves that reached down over your arms - he wondered for a moment if you wore them to cover all his scars - and the shiny ends that left your legs a prize for the bite of the freezing air that nipped at him even through all his layers.
He dug his hands into his coat pocket, pulling out his badge and his wallet and his phone to slip them into his pant pockets. Then he shrugged out the jacket.
Sam held it out to the officer. "Would you mind giving this to her?"
The officer took it with tentative hands, he gave it a glance over but made no move to stand.
"There's nothing in it." Sam huffed. "It's freezing in here, and unless you want her to die of hypothermia before morning, I suggest you do what I've asked."
He was considering it, Sam could tell by how his eyes flickered over the office door behind which the sheriff was hiding, but eventually elected to stand.
"Fine."
-
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arwenadreamer · 5 months
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New game idea.
Which button would Sam and Dean press?
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Life in this hypothetical scenario can not be cut short. They'll have their shared heaven, though, after.
Tough choices have to be made. More choices to follow. Reblogs appreciated to get the game going.
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dwonfilm · 2 months
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“Come hell or high water.” | Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?
This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 would be the best fit.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Mentions: Sam Winchester, Castiel, Micheal and Lucifer, Bobby Singer
Warnings: none, will provide for each chapter as they’re written.
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Part I:
Michael and Lucifer had both been impatient, each showing up at various times and places—both wanting the same thing; more or less. Each wanted their designated Winchester brother to simply say yes.
Three days earlier.
Sam, Dean and [Y/N] were sat in their shared motel room in New Orleans, Louisiana. Sam was on his laptop, browsing for cases on different news websites. [Y/N] was flipping through the local newspaper to see if anything stuck out in the reports there, but she wasn’t having much luck. Dean was.. well, in true Dean fashion he was chowing down on a burger that he’d brought back from the local diner. “Your food is gonna get cold, or I’m gonna eat it, the entire world isn’t gonna fall apart if you two take a damn break.” Dean spoke, mouth half full of chewed food. Sam sighed and looked over to [Y/N] who finally closed the newspaper. “Fine, you’re right.” He spoke up, closing the laptop that had been in front of him for at least two hours. Turning his attention towards [Y/N] Dean would clear his throat (after having swallowed the mouthful of food) and gently squeezed her shoulder. “C’mon sweetheart you haven’t eaten today.” She’d sigh knowing her boyfriend was right, placing her hand on top of Dean’s and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Alright, alright. This goddamn newsprint is giving me a headache anyway.” [Y/N] folded the newspaper back up and tossed it onto the table. Grabbing the brown paper bag, she pulled out what would be Sam’s usual and handed it over to the younger brother. She pulled out her own food and carefully unwrapped the burger, quickly picking it up and taking a big bite. Now that everyone was a little more focused on the food, Dean would continue to eat himself.
“I dunno man, everything I’ve seen has been completely normal. It’s like all the evil in the world has gone radio silent.” Taking a bite of his burger, the younger of the Winchester brother was clearly frustrated. “That’s what scares me, when things tend to be normal on the crime side.. it’s never a good sign.” [Y/N] replied, tucking a loose strand of [Y/H/C] hair behind her right ear. “There’s gotta be something, I’m sure we’ll find it but there’s no use finding anything if we aren’t fit to do the job.” Dean spoke up again, verbally nudging the two most important people in his life to continue eating. “All the sons of bitches can’t have just ran into hiding.“ He’d conclude, grabbing the bottle of beer he’d set aside and taking a swig. “It’s just weird, Dean. Normally it doesn’t take us so long to find something to at least check out. There’s nothing online at all that’s raising even a little suspicion.” Sam answered, looking extremely concerned when he locked eyes with his brother. Dean’s eyes were sympathetic and truthfully—he was worried too. Everything both Sam and [Y/N] were saying was true but he also couldn’t afford to let them see any hint of the fear his heart carried. Not only because it made things more real but he was too busy anchoring them, keeping them from spiralling because then they’d be no good to anyone once evil rears its ugly head. [Y/N] finished chewing another bite of food before adding another thought. “I haven’t seen anything local either I mean, that was the third paper I’ve scoured from front to back and everything just seems.. normal. It’s weird.” It took the chiming in of the eldest Winchester to calm the noise of the impending chaos again. “Hey, look, we’ll just take a break and see if anything comes down the pipeline. Right now I need you two to eat before I start force feeding you.” Sam and [Y/N] both looked at each other before chuckling softly and for the first time in the last couple of hours, the stress of it all faded away. Dean was the first to finish his food (no surprise there) and so he silently asked to use Sam’s laptop, the younger brother nodding as he continued to eat. [Y/N] had finished her food, not realizing how hungry she’d actually been. Of course Dean knew because he knew her like the back of his hand, which was why he’d been pushing her especially to eat since he brought it back to the room. She smiled to herself for a moment as her gaze moved to where Dean sat, scrolling on the computer. Those strikingly beautiful green eyes scanning the screen to see if he could find anything to ease the worries of the trio. Sam was of course the final person to finish his food and when he had, [Y/N] began to grab the garbage that had become scattered across the small table in their room. She stuffed everything back into the brown paper bag it came in before throwing it into the trash can. Rubbing at his temples, Sam slowly pushed himself up from his seat. “I’m gonna shower. Let me know if you guys find anything yeah?” He spoke, walking over to his bed and grabbing the go bag with his clothes in it. He saunters towards the bathroom and closes the door, both [Y/N] and Dean heard the door lock. Dean’s eyes moved to look up at his girlfriend with an expression that seemed exhausted. Noticing this, [Y/N] approached the table again, this time taking the chair closest to her green eyed baby. Leaning her head onto his shoulder, he managed a half smile with his gaze moving from the laptop screen to his beautiful lady. Her [Y/H/C] locks framing her face perfectly, not to mention her [Y/E/C] eyes that always brought his soul some peace. Everything about their world was utter chaos with something even worse looming overhead, yet just by looking into her eyes he’d find a calm like he’d never known.
[Y/N] had met the Winchesters as a child, her father one of the many hunters that John had worked with in the hunt for the yellow eyed demon. Unfortunately her father met a cruel fate at the hands of a shifter and that left her alone in the world. Naturally, via the connection, Bobby Singer would end up taking [Y/N] into his home and that’s where she’d spend time with Sam and Dean. Years on end would see them meeting a handful of times and enjoying various activities and days with Bobby while John hunted. Of course when John and Bobby had their big blow up fight, [Y/N] went a while without hearing from the brothers. Dean had gotten in touch a couple years later and kept in touch through texts mostly, which was surprising but [Y/N] wasn’t complaining. Sam would email every once and awhile but it was very sporadic. Which [Y/N] learned years later was because Sam had left hunting and gone to Stanford—basically ignoring the hunting life and everything supernatural. It was actually during this time where Dean and [Y/N] would begin doing hunts together. Off and on of course, sometimes very rarely with John but usually just the two of them. Often times these cases required them to, as they called it, ‘bend the truth’. This involved posing as different forms of authority to gain access to information that they normally wouldn’t have. Many times, both Dean and [Y/N] had to pose as a young couple in love. Newlyweds or happily engaged—various forms of in love, gaining them favor amongst the community or with other authority figures. This went on for months, both seemingly having feelings show themselves but it went undiscussed. Dean wasn’t about flirting with women to get further on a case, which of course [Y/N] hated but she could never really say that. It caused a little tension at times until finally it came to a head on a hunt for witch.
“Dean, will you just stop and listen to me?!” [Y/N] yelled as she followed the man into their shared motel room. Dean remained silent, anger written across his features. [Y/N] huffed out a breath of frustration and ran her hand through her [Y/H/C] hair and looking toward the eldest Winchester boy. “Dean.” She tried speaking again, yet he still ignored her and aggressively unzipped his go bag. Sifting through its contents he was looking for something, growing more irritated when he couldn’t find it. “What are you looking for?” [Y/N] asked, there was more silence for a second before he finally spoke. “Credit card.” Straight to the point and with a tone that had [Y/N]’s eyes rolling. “You told me to put it in my bag because your wallet needed to get fixed.” She replied, dipping her hand into her bag she’d pull her wallet out and slipping the card into her hand. She’d slowly walk over to Dean and tossed the card onto the bed. This time it was his turn to sigh before turning towards [Y/N]. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I lost my temper, what you do is none of my business.” He said, which seemed genuine for the most part. “I just am lost, I don’t react like that when you flirt with a girl to get information or a bump in the line to meet with someone.” She spoke, though she mumbled under her breath. “Even though I want to..” Dean heard her and felt a sense of confusion wash over him. “Why would you.. [Y/N] why would you want to get mad over that?” Dean’s eyes had found themselves locked onto [Y/N]’s, waiting for her to answer. Throwing her hands up in frustration [Y/N] shouted. “For the exact same reason that you got mad today and punched the receptionist in the face, Dean! You and I obviously have feelings for one another but we don’t talk about them so we just circle the never ending drain of getting jealous and sad and mad in secret and letting it build up!” Immediately after the words had left her mouth she gasped and covered it with her hands. Dean was just as shocked as [Y/N] seemed to be, frozen just staring in her eyes. Moments later after pure silence, Dean turned around and drug his hand across his face. “Dean..” [Y/N] spoke, her tone much softer than it was moments ago. She took a step forward and slowly placed a hand on his shoulder, lightly gripping it. Dean turned with a quickness and crashed his lips against [Y/N]’s while his hand came up to cup her face. Naturally she was stunned, but began to kiss him back.
Ever since that day, due to some kind of truth hex, Dean and [Y/N] had been inseparable. It was the one good thing in Dean’s eyes that came from dealing with a witch. Moving his finger along the touchpad of the laptop, he’d close the website he was on and look up another. There had to be something somewhere.. there just had to be. “Should I get back on the papers?” [Y/N]’s voice broke the longstanding silence that had hovered over them. Dean pulled another half smile before turning and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “No sweetheart, it’s alright. I don’t think there’s anything in ‘em. You’d have found something by now if there was.” His gaze again fixated on the computer, scrolling through masses of crimes being reported. He was about to scroll again, but something caught his eye and he needed to reread the blurb. “Wait a minute..” he spoke in a soft tone, causing [Y/N] to sit up. “Did you find something?” She asked, looking at the screen now too. “Not sure, maybe.” He replied, clicking a link that brought up a fuller article. “Well I’ll be damned.. this one might be vamps. Animal attacks, puncture marks on the necks.. hell there’s nothing else remotely sticking out so I think it’s worth the drive.” Dean added, the lock on the bathroom door clicking open and soon enough the younger Winchester came back into the main room. Steam came flowing from the bathroom as Sam continued to dry his hair. “Hey Sammy, think we got something.” [Y/N] spoke with a soft tone and there was a look of relief on his face. “Wha.. where?” Sam asked, looking at his brother. “Tucson.” Dean answered, turning the laptop around so that his younger brother could look at the article himself. Now [Y/N] was the one pushing herself from her seat. “Hopefully you didn’t use all the shampoo and the hot water.” She joked, making her way to the bathroom in order to shower.
After everyone had showered and changed into their pyjamas, the trio had settled down for the evening. It didn’t take long for quiet snores to be heard from Sam’s bed, his back turned towards the couple who were sharing the other bed. “I’m glad we found a case, but I still don’t have a good feeling about this..” [Y/N] spoke, keeping her tone on the quieter side as to not wake up the younger Winchester. She was snuggled into Dean’s side with her arm draped across his lower abdomen and her head on his chest. Dean pressed a kiss to her temple before sighing in a low manner himself. “I don’t either, it’s bugging me but we can’t just ignore the situation on feelings.” He spoke, his own tone mirroring hers in keeping on that quieter side and both sighed. “It just feels like this case fell into our laps and it feels like it’s a trap, but I can’t pinpoint from who or why.” She aimlessly began drawing shapes on the end of Dean’s T-shirt and he could see that his off feeling wasn’t as strong as the one that [Y/N] was having—she only drew shapes in that manner to calm her mind down. “Hey [Y/N/N], something’s really bugging you about this.. what is it?” He asked, gently turning her chin upward so [Y/N] would meet his gaze. [Y/E/C] hues met the beautiful green eyes that Dean had, searching them for something. “I wish I knew. Dean, it just feels.. too easy. There was nothing for what? Two days? Now all of a sudden there’s one solitary case and we’re supposed to believe this isn’t a set up? It’s not making sense. I know we can’t just ignore a possible case, but it just feels like something is going on and nothing good.” [Y/N] sighed again, knowing that so many things were up in the air right now and so many things couldn’t be resolved in quick manner. “Maybe we’ll pray to Cas tomorrow, either before we leave or while we’re driving. See if he knows anything.” Dean offered, squeezing [Y/N] and bringing her closer to his body. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good.” She replied, snuggling into her boyfriend and slowly closing her eyes. Dean himself would adjust the covers and slowly close his eyes. “Goodnight, D.” [Y/N] whispered. “Goodnight, [Y/N/N].” He whispered back.
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