#spn soulmates

[supernaturals-fav-witch]

☆~♡Wings♡~☆

Dating the angelic beings /being their soulmate (so being the only one that can see their wings)

Micheal/Adam milligan

Micheal is kinda protective over his wings at first

But when he met you he softened up

You seemed to want to see them all the time even when he hid them

So he let up

His wings are tuff and thick, not easily bent or moved

You still need to be gentle with them though

If you're to rough with them that will either 1 hurt him or 2 make him veryyy needy 😉

He likes being around you alot so when you're hunting or doing something and it gets to dangerous he will wrap his wings around you creating a little room where nothing could get through

When you have trouble sleeping hell wrap you in one of his wings like a burrito and it helps you sleep, it Also calms his and Adam's anxiety/nerves

Lucifer

AS SOON AS HE FIGURES OUT YOU CAN SEE HIS WINGS WITH OUT LOSING YOURE EYES HE FUCKING GETS WILD!

He's legit so f*cking happy you can see them without any reproductions

He always has a wing covering you're back

When you sleep or hug or kiss his he holds you tightly to his body and wraps his wings as close as he can without hurting you

He refuses to let you sleep outside of his wings

In public if you're shy he will guide you with his wings

Some times if you're hunting with like Sam or Dean and it gets to dangerous he will wrap his wings around you them telaport you to the thrown room in hell and play doctor/patent with you being to over dramatic making sure you not hurt AT ALL

His wings are sturdy and buff the are soft but not gentle

They are strong af, and they basically are everything proof

But if you touch or tickle his wings the right way, Here ->

🦼👩‍🦼👩‍🦽

He's gonna be all over you!!

If he's being mean you just massage his wing and he fucking MELTZ

But if others touch his wings he's sending them to his worst demons to get tortured

Gabriel

He wrapped his wings around you before he knew you could see them, and before you were dating

He's used to you and his wings

He doesn't see it as a big deal

He loves his wings but loves you more sooo

He's also very clingy and cuddly so his wings are always around you

The have huge span just like the other archangels, basically all the archangels wings reach to about 54 feet wide and 32 feet tall in my mind

I mean castiel says that his true form is the size of the Chrysler Building in New York, which is 1047 feet (319m) in height and he's just a angel so 1 imagine how big his wings are let alone how archangels are much bigger then regular angels so they could easily be like 2000 feet tall in true form.

Gabes wings are soft and gentle they often have a mind of their own and sway to music

Raphael

Questions you when he figures out you can see his wings

Is happy you can see them but doesn't show it

He usually has a wing around you bc he protective

He's not that open to pda but if you're affectionate alot then he will be too

He matched you're energy so you don't dis like him

One time you two where laying in bed and you were trying to fall asleep but couldn't due to how cold it was and you told Raphael, he let you use his wing as a blanket. He just opened his wing and guided you on how to Lay down on it and then wrapped you up in it

You fell asleep quickly due to the softeners and warmth

Now it's you're favorite thing to do

If you touch his wings without his knowledge his wings likely accidentally zap you a little bit

So always give him warning when touching his wings or else it might end up badly

He loves you alot but is very chill and doesn't want to have much pda, but if you do want alot of pda his favorite way to show he loves you is through physical touch, meaning wing hugs

Oh also when you kiss him without warning his wings flap without him trying

Castiel

He doesn't really believe the whole "soulmates" thing

But he he finds out about it he slowly starts to believe it more

He loved you even before he knew you two were supposed to be together

He grooms his wings alot, one time he had a hard time cleaning and area of his wings and you walked in, asked if you could help.

.... long story short you always groom his wings

His wings are strong yet soft

His feathers are like a super soft cats fur

When he's sad or angry massage his wings gently and it calms him down

If he's having a panic attack, hug him tightly and massage the base of his wings it will calm him

If you and him a near someone he doesn't trust guess what? ✨️wing burrito✨️

He likes rubbing his wings against you during sex bc it makes it more intense for him

He also rubs his wings against you when he tellaports so he doesn't scare you

When you sleep he puts his wings around you just so you're safe

Jack kline

Jack knew you can see his wings just by the way you looked at him

He loves you and loves having his wings around you

His wing is always touching you

When he's sad they droop

He loves you touching his wings but it makes him shudder

He fludders his wings when you walk in

If you're cold or sad he will wrap you in his wings and cuddle you whilst talking to you

He loves you dearly and the fact he can use his wings on/with you means alot to him

He loves you're touch on his wings

You and him both learn how to groom his wings

After he showers he shakes of his wings like a dog

His wings soak up so much water that it gets everywhere

He sheds his feathers alot and the grow back quickly

But you took one of his feathers and put it on a necklace

If you two are apart and you get hurt or are sacred he cans sense it through the feather of his you wear and he comes

If you pray to him you feel wings around the second you prey to him

Chuck sherly / god

When Chuck created soulmates he didn't specifically much except "every being had a soul that is ment to be with them, they fit like puzzles together"

When he figured out you where his soulmate and you could see his wings he immediately hugged picked you up and deeply kissed you

Scince he's god nobody can see his wings, it ruins them

But scince you're his fitting puzzle peace you can see his wings

He loves you but he loves that you can see his wings too

He constantly shows you pda/affection anywhere any time, and he loves showing you that through his wings

He spoons you with his wings

He pins you against the wall with his wings

If he doesn't want you leaving bed he holds you down with his wings

When you shower with him he has his wings close to you holding you close whilst he washes you're hair

If you get embarrassed he wraps you in his wings to hide you

#castiel winchester #dean winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #the winchester brothers #yandere supernatural x reader #reality shifting #shifting #spn soulmates #soulmates #archangels #adam milligan x reader

[zepskies]

The Old-Fashioned Way

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution? [Soulmate AU]

AN: Happy Valentine's Day! ❣️ Welcome back to the Never Say Goodbye-verse, my first ever Soulmate AU! Feels appropriate to celebrate today with some soulmates lol.

Honestly, I have really missed these two. I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since I wrote this series! And I’ve been wanting to find a way to come back to it, so when I recently got this request, I couldn't resist:

The reader finds out she is pregnant and Dean’s reaction.

But of course, I couldn’t make it that simple… This story takes place five years after the Bonus Tracks (3-part sequel).

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship (marriage). Soulmates, angst, issues in pregnancy, hurt/comfort, fluff, implied smut.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Today marked five years that Dean had been an officer of the Sioux Falls Police Department.

After twenty-eight odd years of committing felonies of varying degrees…mostly for the greater good, he still found it strange sometimes.

He’d been partnered with his father-in-law, Jack, and by now, Dean had finally lost his sense of “imposter syndrome.”

Jody bought him a pie to commemorate the occasion, and while a little embarrassed, he wasn’t mad about it. The precinct employees now shared the dessert on paper plates from their respective desks and cubicles.

Dean sat in the bullpen with Jack (who was on a call), Jody, and even Jessie Deluca, the boy he’d once arrested for stealing candy and groceries from a gas station.

Well, Jessie wasn’t such a kid anymore. He was now their 18-year-old intern.

“How’s the boysenberry?” Jody asked Dean. Her lips curved upward when he turned to her with a crumb-covered smile. 

“Real good,” he said.

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I can’t with this. Come ‘ere.”

She grabbed a napkin and leaned over to wipe at his mouth the way a mother would her errant child. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Really?” he snipped.

“You look like my five-year-old son after a round of SpaghettiOs,” she said.

“Makes you wonder how his wife deals with him,” Jessie muttered under his breath while he entered expense reports into his computer. Never mind that he had a purple berry stain around the corner of his mouth.

Dean shot him a wry look, along with his crumpled napkin.

“I don’t wanna hear that from a punk like you,” he teased. “You haven’t had a girlfriend since…what, junior prom?”

Jessie fended off the stained napkin with a grimace. But he also smarted at the dig. His arms crossed defensively as he leaned back in his chair.

“As a matter a fact, I’ve got a date on Friday,” he sniffed. “And no, I’m not telling you her name.”

Dean and Jody shared an amused look.

“Aww, look at him, pretending he’s got a date,” Dean said. He fought a deeper grin when Jessie threw the disgusting napkin back at him.

“Fine! Her name’s Annie. You happy now?” Jessie said.

Dean shared another look with Jody.

“Aww, he’s actually got a date,” said Dean. He smirked at the kid next. “Lemme know if you need to borrow some cologne. Chicks dig that.”

“Ugh,” Jessie groaned. He leaned his elbows on his desk and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. He knew he’d be catching flack on this for the rest of the week.

Dean chuckled, but before he had a chance to tease their intern some more, his cell phone rang. It was you, and he felt his good mood continue as he answered.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, how’s the day going?” you asked.

“Good,” he replied. “We’re on lunch break. Jody got me a pie for my five-year mark at the PD.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet…literally. She knows you too well,” you laughed.

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she really does.”

“Tell her and everyone else I said hi.”

“Will do,” he said with a smile. “You just callin’ to check up on me?”

“Well, that, and…when are you getting home tonight?” you asked. The smooth, leading note of your voice had Dean’s lips curving into a smirk.

“Ah, well…” He pushed away from his desk and stepped away from the bullpen for a little privacy in the hall. “That depends. What’s going on?”

“Let’s just say…I have an idea,” you replied. It had Dean’s brows raising. You’d been having a lot of ideas for the past year, and he’d been more than ready and willing for most of them.

“Oh, yeah?” he intoned. While he leaned against the wall in the main hallway of the precinct, his arm crossed under his elbow as he continued holding the phone to his ear. “What’d you have in mind?”

“You’ll just have to find out,” you said.

It only took his brain about a moment and a half to compute.

“All right. In that case, I’ll try to be home promptly at six, barring there’s no shootouts at the 7-Eleven,” he quipped.

“Ugh, please, don’t even joke about that,” you said, your tone sobering.

Dean realized, without even having to read his soulmate’s thoughts, that you were reminded of the last time an explosive incident happened at the local gas station, just two weeks before their wedding day. He dimmed as well. 

“Yeah, ‘m sorry,” he said, swiping a hand over his mouth. “Uh…okay. I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.”

“Okay, be careful,” you said. You always said it—in the morning, whenever he left for work, whenever you two managed to talk during the day. It was routine, but it also wasn’t. 

And you still wished him a good rest of his day before you hung up. Dean pocketed his phone and returned to the bullpen, where Jody was putting away the rest of the pie. He eyed her just to know exactly where she was setting it down in the kitchen, for future reference.

Jessie peered up from his computer and asked if that was you on the phone.

“Yeah, she says hi,” Dean replied.

Jessie smirked. “‘Course she does. I’m her favorite.”

Dean shot him a look, knowing the kid liked you probably even more than he liked Dean. You’d become like a big sister to Jessie…but it didn’t stop Dean from occasionally being annoyed. 

“Shut up and eat your pie.”

Dean arrived that night, more or less on time, to find that you’d cooked up a feast. It was laid out across the dining table: steak, scalloped potatoes, carrots and broccoli, and even freshly baked cornbread with butter. 

“Is it my birthday again?” he asked, despite it already being February. 

He ventured into the kitchen where you were getting two bottles of beer. You looked up at him with a smile when he came over and held you from behind. You enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed against your back, while his hands found your hips.

“I cook all the time, Dean,” you pointed out. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head in greeting.

“Hmm. Yeah, but now my spidey senses are tingling,” he said.

You set down the beer before turning in his embrace and twining your arms around his neck. Already he could feel your anticipation through the soul bond, but that was all you were letting him sense. You were keeping your walls up a bit, to stop him from hearing your thoughts. In this case, it felt like a tease.

You tilted your head, a smile playing across your lips. “Oh, yeah?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Oh, yeah.”

You laughed and let him greet you properly with a kiss. You returned it, affectionately caressing his cheek, but you stopped him before he could start pressing you harder into the counter. You held up a placating hand against his chest.

“Wait, wait, the food’s gonna get cold,” you said. And all too quickly, you’d extricated yourself from his arms and went to finish placing the silverware on the table. Dean begrudgingly followed suit by helping you with the glasses and plates.

Dinner was delicious. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a steak that good; you two had been scrounging and saving to get out of this apartment and buy a house, along with other things you and Dean had been planning for your future.

By the time the leftovers were put away and the dishes were put in the dishwasher, he started to sense that you were ready to come around with the real reason you’d called him at work today, let alone made such a nice and expensive meal. You went over to where he stood at the kitchen sink and rubbed his arm.

“Hey,” you greeted.

Dean tried to stifle his knowing smile. “Yeah?”

But when he looked over at you, he realized you seemed nervous, not flirtatious. You were serious, and now, he was concerned.

“What?” he asked.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment. Then you went over to a nearby drawer and got some rubber gloves you always kept at work and at home—the kind doctors wore.

You went for your large work bag that normally stored your laptop and files, and instead, you pulled out an old book. Dean’s brows raised of their own accord, considering the last time you accidentally trifled with a book like that.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, with some trepidation. You laid the book out on the kitchen counter.

“It’s a journal of some kind, written in Latin, dating back from the late 1500s. Can you believe that?” Your head raised from where you were examining the cover and spine, but Dean was incredulous.

“What’re you doing with that?” he asked. Your lips pursed, and he felt a tendril of your guilt.

Most likely, you’d taken it from the museum where you worked without permission. You were in charge of the growing library of ancient texts that were stored there, and most of them were too old and valuable for exhibition, even behind glass. He doubted you were even allowed to open this book, let alone “borrow” it from the museum.

You sighed and held up a placating hand. “Okay, Dean, just hear me out.”

You opened the book to a page you’d placed a strip of paper in for bookmarking purposes. You pointed at a page filled with scrawled words that Dean didn’t really understand. Sam was always better at reading Latin.

“That is a fertility spell,” you said.

The weight of that fell between you for a moment, rendering Dean speechless. It took a few seconds for his brain to register what you were saying, followed quickly by a sad, contemplative frown as he stared back at you. You were serious about this, even hopeful. 

“Sweetheart, we don’t need that,” he said, shaking his head. Your expression firmed, though it became touched with melancholy.

“It’s been a year, Dean,” you said. “We’ve been trying for a year, and I’m still not pregnant.”

He blew out a breath. “The doctor said—”

“We’ve done everything the doctor said,” you snapped. “Fertility treatments are either going to take too long or are too expensive, and they still carry risks.”

“And this isn’t a risk?” Dean shot back, gesturing at the book. “You don’t know if this will work, or what the hell it’ll really do to you.”

Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t back down. You held your hands to your hips.

“Uncle Bobby said it’s legit,” you said. Dean blinked in surprise. He shifted back on his heels and crossed his arms.

“You ran this by Bobby before me?” he said. You could feel the small lance of his upset, as well as see it across his face.

You bit the inside of your lip. “I just wanted to make sure!”

Dean took in a deep breath. He mentally counted to five.

“What exactly did he say?” he asked.

You paused at that. “…Well, he said it was a real spell.”

His brows rose. “And?”

“And…that magic is unpredictable and we should talk about it first. But that’s why we’re talking now!” you reasoned. 

Your husband’s gaze lifted heavenward as he threw up his hands in aggravation.

“Dean—” you tried, but it didn’t stop him from snatching up the book. Despite your protests, he took it with him into the master bedroom you shared and shoved the book into his nightstand. You had followed him this far, but you stopped short when he turned around to face you.

“I will check this out,” he said, and his tone boded no argument. “But for the record, I’m against this. Magic is unpredictable at best, and not for nothing, it always comes at a price. I’ll be damned if you’re gonna pay it again.”

You paused. Hearing the vehemence in his tone, feeling the force of emotion behind his words, and your own circling memories of being possessed by a magic-wielding goddess…it had you nodding in agreement, even as tears welled up in your eyes.

Dean faltered a little inside. Always the damn tears. He gathered you into his arms and held you close in comfort. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll figure this out. I promise,” he said.

You tried to believe him.

Late that night, however, you couldn’t help yourself.

Once you were sure Dean was asleep beside you, hearing his deep, even breaths, you made your move. Dressed in just an old college shirt and some pajama shorts, you slid out of bed and tiptoed over to his nightstand to get the book.

You took it into the kitchen and started assembling the ingredients Bobby had reluctantly helped you translate. (He didn’t know that you had taken a couple of items from his house for the spell.) 

You prepared them in a bowl. The resulting liquid looked brown and disgusting. You mixed it around, grimacing at the smell, and carefully poured it into a glass. The last thing the spell required was a few drops of your blood, and then you were supposed to drink it. 

God, this is terrible, you thought. Part of you couldn’t believe you were going through with this, but…you grabbed a kitchen knife in order to make a shallow cut on your palm. 

The steel was poised against your hand. You took a fortifying breath, but before you could cut into your skin, Dean grabbed your wrist with a strong grip, startling a gasp out of you.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he said, or more like shouted. He was irate, his voice bounding off the walls of the apartment.

You knew he had every right to be, and you didn’t have a good answer for him. Shock had stifled you into silence.

Dean let go of you and took the glass next. He peered in disgust at the concoction inside, but he quickly dumped it into the sink and ignored your protests. He threatened to burn the damn book next.

“Dean, stop! Please,” you said tearfully as you stilled his hands on the book. “If there’s some kind of price to the spell, I’ll pay it!”

“What’re you talking about! Are you crazy?” he asked, through furrowed brows. You squeezed his hands.

“Believe me, I love what we have. I love our life, my job, all of it,” you said. “But I want a family, and I want it with you.”

Dean started to soften at that, when you met his eyes. You paused, taking in a shaky breath.

“It should be simple, but it’s not," you said. "I just can’t understand why it’s so impossible. Why…why there’s something wrong with me.”

Dean’s anger broke down, bit by bit the more you spoke. He let go of the book and reached for you. He held you against his chest, rubbing your back as you quietly wept. You tried to stifle it, but that just made your body tremble even more. He did his best to steady you, rocking you back and forth. His eyes closed for a moment.

You both knew that the expensive fertility doctor hadn’t found anything wrong with either of you, even after a month of testing.

“In certain cases, it just takes longer for some couples,” she’d said. But clearly, you had just been blaming yourself. Dean couldn’t abide that.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said firmly. “Believe me, I want that too. But I also want to make sure you’re safe.”

Emotion clogged in his throat when he thought about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t stopped you. And in turn, you sobered even more when you managed to pick up on his thoughts.

“If something would’ve happened, and I was too late to stop it,” he said, clearing his throat. “…I just can’t, okay?”

After a moment, you nodded. You allowed yourself to rest against his chest and try to calm the racing of your heart. All the while, you tried your best not to resent him for stopping you.

The next day was a Saturday. You slept in because your body needed it, after the stress of last night. When you woke up, Dean wasn’t beside you. His keys and the Impala were gone, but he’d left you a text: he’d gone to your uncle Bobby’s place. 

And you saw that he’d taken the book as well. Predictable. 

You felt bad for how you tried to go behind your husband’s back, but if you were honest with yourself, you were still upset at him for stopping you, even if you understood why he did it. 

You sat on the edge of your bed. Not for the first time since you and Dean were separated by miles of roads and his family’s mission to find the thing that killed his mother, you found yourself praying. 

Please, God…or if there’s even anyone up there…please help me.

For a while, there was silence in the room. 

But even if your eyes were open, you wouldn’t have seen the being that was standing in front of you. He stared down at you with a tilted head, finding himself a bit too curious. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out and touched your forehead. 

You didn’t completely register the feeling that washed over you. It was like the tingling of a breeze across your skin. You took it for a chill in the room as you shivered a little. Then you opened your eyes, and resigned yourself to starting your day. 

Castiel left the room with but a thought and a flutter of wings. 

He knew he was only supposed to observe Michael’s vessel, not his soulmate. And yet, with one touch, he had sensed the rare genetic defect your doctor had missed.

Your mother had unknowingly suffered the condition as well. Your father never told you this, but she’d nearly lost you in the early stages of her pregnancy. It had been a miracle that you were born at all. 

Castiel fixed the problem. 

He knew what Uriel, or even Naomi would say. Perhaps they didn’t need to know, in this case. They were both far too busy for worldly trifles. Even so, Castiel knew he wasn’t authorized to heal you.

Still, it felt…right. And so, he did it. 

It confused him.

…Maybe it isn’t something to be closely examined, he thought.

With that agreement within himself, he resolved to leave that decision behind him, and continue watching from afar. Those were his orders, after all.

Visiting Bobby Singer wasn’t as productive as Dean wanted it to be. The men had been arguing in Bobby’s living room for close to an hour.

Dean was upset with him for translating that goddamn spell for you, but the old man didn’t have a good answer. They both knew you were like a daughter to him.

“She came in hot, all damn stubborn and sass up to here,” Bobby said, holding a hand up to his forehead. “But you try sayin’ no when the waterworks starts.”

…Dean could concede that, but he rubbed his face in frustration. 

“What do I do here, Bobby?” he asked, holding up the spell book in question. Apparently, it was more like a journal; it was rumored to have belonged to a sixteenth-century witch named Rowena. “I don’t trust this thing. Deep in my gut, I know it.”

Bobby considered him for a moment. In fact, he gave Dean a long-suffering look that made him really see Bobby’s age. 

“Then trust your gut, son,” was all he said. 

Dean returned home with a peace offering: some apple crumble pie. You were lying on the sofa watching mindless TV, still in your pajamas. Your mental walls were down, so Dean could both see and feel how miserable you were. 

He took out the pie from the small bag of groceries he carried and held it up so you could see.

“I come bearing sugar,” he said. He also set down a bottle of wine on the dining table. You were focused on the pie, however.

“Who’s that for, me or you?” you dryly remarked. 

“I got ice cream too,” he said, shaking the grocery bag. 

You smiled a little, but he could feel through the bond that you were still sour at him. He sighed and went over to you. He set down the bribery on the coffee table and settled a hand on your pajama-clad thigh. 

“Sweetheart, I am sorry.” 

Sighing, you turned off the TV and sat up against the other end of the couch. You eyed him with a frown.

“You’re not sorry about chucking the spell,” you accused. Or for stealing the book you’d eventually have to bring back to work, lest your boss notice something amiss in the inventory.

“No, I’m not,” said Dean. “It was dangerous. I felt it. And that gut feeling? That’s what’s saved me more times than I can damn count.” 

You were still upset, you couldn’t deny…but you understood his point. When he beckoned you over, you were more willing to go to him. After you scooted closer, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Look, I’ll go to whatever doctors you want, try whatever treatments, however long it takes,” he said.

You sighed, but you eventually agreed with a teary nod. “Okay. Thank you.”

Even with that, Dean wasn’t convinced that he was getting through to you. He was picking up on a thread of hopelessness that you were trying to hide.

He’d just have to change that.

“But…” He earned your attention by squeezing your side. His lips formed a grin. “I still think we can do this the old-fashioned way.”

He slowly rubbed a hand up and down your back. With the other hand, he reached for your face, tracing your lower lip with his thumb. You smiled slightly at his teasing. Part of you wanted to heed the suggestion in his eyes, and the familiar warmth and promise in his touch. The other, more vulnerable part of you hesitated.

When you caught sight of something over his shoulder, you had to smile a little more.

“I see you got a bottle of Merlot,” you said. A notable upgrade from beer. You couldn’t remember the last time Dean had willingly bought some “bougie-ass” wine.

“A little pie, a little booze…” you noted.

Dean grinned. “I’m thinking we have a not-so-quiet night in.”

Your brows rose, and you hummed in surprise. “Is my husband trying to butter me up?”

“Nah,” he said, tilting your face back up to his. “Your husband’s trying to seduce you.”  

You giggled at that…at first. But it seemed he was serious.

You accepted his passionate kiss. Closing your eyes, you reached blindly for his shirt and held on while his lips moved ardently against yours. Through the bond, you felt his desire like it was your own.

In the five years you’d been married, and the years you were together even before, there were often moments where it was impossible to discern what was him and what was you. 

The beautiful thing about it was, that part didn’t matter too much. Especially not when you and Dean became a tangle of limbs, lips, and tongue on the couch. He ridded you of your threadbare pajamas, and you helped him halfway out of his shirt and jeans before he yanked the rest of it off himself.

And all while he drew lusty moans and sighs and pleasure from your body in the comfort of your living room, the ice cream slowly melted in its container on the coffee table—completely forgotten, along with the pie.

That night, you lied awake in his arms for a while. Round one on the couch had migrated to rounds two and three in the bedroom, and you were almost too exhausted to sleep. 

It had been months since you and Dean had sex without thinking of calendars and timing, optimal positions and ovulation.

This felt right, you thought, as you stroked his arm that was wrapped around your waist. Even though your skin was sticking to his under the sheets and your frizzy hair was probably tickling his neck, he didn’t seem to mind.

Dean? you tried through the bond, seeing if he was awake. He felt like he was still in-between wakefulness and sleep. At your prodding though, he slipped back into the former. 

“Hmm?” he replied. You let out a sigh in the dark. 

“I’m sorry I kind of tried to take matters into my own hands, with the spell.”

He hmphed in response. “Kinda?”

Your lips twitched upwards. 

“This is a ‘together’ thing,” you said. “I made it all about me.”

Dean shook his head at that. He responded through the bond. No, you didn’t.

I did, you insisted. You were right to stop me. I didn’t care about the consequences…but that’s not fair to you. To either of us.

He took that in with a deep sigh of his own.

“It’s okay. We want the same thing,” he said. “And we’ll get there, baby. Don’t you worry.”

“What makes you so sure?” you asked.

“…I don’t know. I just am.”

You closed your eyes, and once again, you tried to believe him. You let his heartbeat and the sound of his steady breathing lull you to sleep. 

Nine weeks later…

You were alone in the bathroom at seven in the morning. After almost a month late on your period, you were also staring at two positive lines on your last pregnancy test. 

Ho…ly…shit.

Dean was already at work. This wasn’t something you wanted to tell him over the phone, however. 

How the hell am I supposed to keep this from him all day? you thought.

But then again, maybe this was a good thing. You had time to make sure.

So you called out of work for a personal day, and you immediately called your doctor on your way out to the closest pharmacy. You were going to need a few more tests. 

When Dean eventually got home that evening, there were two pizzas waiting for him. The smell was already making his mouth water. He peeked under the hood of each box and rubbed his hands together. 

“Ooh, awesome.” Pepperoni, sausage, and double cheese. His favorite.

You appeared then from the kitchen with a strange smile on your face. 

“Hey!” you chirped, but you seemed a bit distracted as you pulled out a sheet pan of cookies from the oven. You nearly dropped them when the corner of the pan banged against the oven. 

Something was off with you. Dean knew it intuitively. He went over and tried to steady you with a hand on the small of your back. He could see that you were frazzled, but he realized, with a frown, that you had your walls up again. He couldn’t pick up on what you were thinking.

“You okay?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“Uh…well, something,” you nodded and wiped your hands after you peeled the oven mitts off. “And I need to tell you about it before I bake everything in the house, including the expired bran muffins.”

Dean was growing more concerned by the moment. He knew for a fact he’d hidden that bran muffin mix deep in the pantry, so you wouldn’t force him to eat a “healthy dessert.”

“Okay, what?” he asked.

You paused, steeling yourself with a breath.

You then took his hand and led him to the bedroom, into the adjoining bathroom. Across the entire counter were no less than seven pregnancy tests. 

All positive.

Dean’s breath caught in his lungs. Slowly he turned back to you with his widened eyes.

“Surprise?” you smiled, a little nervously. 

Dean grasped the counter and had to sit down hard on the closed toilet seat. 

“Yeah, I did that too,” you said. You couldn’t help but giggle as you caressed his face. He grabbed your hip, both to bring you closer and for added stability. You two had been trying to make this happen for over a year, but the gravity of this being real was finally hitting him. 

He stared up at your face with a growing smile. “This is happening.” 

You nodded, smiling through your burgeoning tears. 

“Yeah. It is,” you replied. “Dean, you’re gonna be a dad.”

That realization had him nodding, swallowing hard and blinking past a sting in his eyes. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you in between his knees. You threaded your fingers through his hair, and his head came to rest against your stomach. He pressed a kiss there, over your shirt. 

After a moment to gather himself, he rocked back onto his feet. Then he enveloped you in a secure and warm embrace. He kissed the side of your head, and you felt his smile there.

“We did it, baby,” he said.  

“And that was the easy part,” you quipped, making him laugh. Yet the holy shit of it all hit him in a new wave—one you felt through the bond. You had to take a deep breath to steady yourself as well.

“Oh my God, this is happening,” he repeated.

You uttered a tearful laugh. “Uh, yeah, Dean.”

He was still smiling, but it started to dim a little. 

“We’re ready, right?” he asked.

You chuckled, wiping at your eyes. “We better be.”

Dean nodded and pulled back enough to see your face. You met his gaze. Maybe you’d just had more time than him to process it all, but you finally felt a sense of peace.

“Together, right?” he said.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Together.”

Dean let out a deep breath. “Shit, I gotta tell Sam.”

Your smile brightened and you squeezed his arms.

“Let’s call him!" you said. "Hopefully Eileen’s there too.”

The two had moved in together a couple of years ago, after Eileen officially retired from hunting. But she often had long shifts at her job, just like Sam did at the law firm he started working for after he graduated from law school, near the top of his class.  

While you and Dean went into the bedroom to call Sam together, an angel watched from a distance, unseen by human eyes.

He found himself smiling.

AN: Ahh I'm soft. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy this as much as I had fun diving back into Never Say Goodbye.

And I won't say that I'll never come back to it in the future...for obvious reasons. 😉

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Series + Dean Tag List (Part 1):

I did my best to get everyone who was tagged in the original run of the series first, then my normal Dean tag list.

@curlycarley @chubby-teddybear @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @deans-spinster-witch @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1

@icequeen1371 @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @shadowcrowsworld @thespnlover @this-is-me19 @stevenknightmarc @leigh70 @syrma-sensei @brain-has-left

@hobby27 @ashbatz @saranghaey @jori21 @lillyrob @adoringanakin @agirlwithdemonblood @mimaria420 @nephil-with-a-gun @writethrough @iamsapphine @definitelymentallyderanged @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer

#the old-fashioned way #bonus tracks #never say goodbye #bonus track 4 #spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #soulmate au #soulmates #castiel #jody mills #bobby singer #zepskies writes

[dorkylilguy]

loving white collar businessman and his spoiled freelance husband 💚💙

#supernatural #spn fanart #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #deancas #spnfandom #castiel fanart #destiel fanart #Dean is rich and cas is spoiled #businessman!dean #freelancer!cas #they’re in love #soulmates

[inbredbrotherhood]

Wincest is truly love taken to the extreme. Devotion to the point of it being a religion all of its own. Closeness that can only be rivalled with splitting one open sternum to groin and reaching inside — touching something private and sensitive and painful. Something that is so far beyond codependency it doesn’t even have a proper name, overwhelming in its entirety.

There is truly not a love story as equally beautiful and sickening as Sam and Dean’s because it isn’t just love. It’s indifference, it’s hero worship, it’s something both sacred and deeply rooted within the world. Those boys love each other so much and so fiercely it’s a disservice to pretend that they don’t.

#sam winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean winchester #supernatural #canon soulmates #wincest #spn wincest #weirdcest #gencest #all the cests #teenchesters #weechesters #wincest feels #canon wincest #supernatural ships

[fatally-addicted-to-fiction]

Something annoys me about people calling Cas and Dean soulmates:

Don't get me wrong, i ship destiel, but the whole point of them being together is that it defied the story Chuck wanted to tell.

That was the ONLY universe Cas stayed. That was the ONLY version of Dean that made Cas want to love the world. That was the only version of Cas that confessed his love for Dean.

They are not soulmates, they defied their fates and chose each other.

#i guess this is only because i have a really solidified idea of what soulmates are #because my definition is that in every universe #every life #every version of themselves are meant to be together #and that just isnt them imo #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean supernatural #castiel #castiel novak #castiel winchester #destiel #deancas #casdean #deastiel

[lambmotifz]

sam is canonically dean’s wife and yet there are still people who think they are normal brothers

#they’re compared to married couples throughout the whole show yeah it’s totally normal and not intentional at all #the amount of times i had to see ppl trying so hard to prove that samdean are normal siblings #while claiming that d*stiel is 100% romantic #the fandom hates sam for being a woman AND for being what cas could never be (dean’s soulmate & true love) #anyways #kripke was so big brained and insane for this i never stop thinking about it #wincest #samdean #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn

[the-gray-ghosty]

The fact that Sam and Dean are soulmates was only mentioned once, then never again, is astounding to me

Where are the scenes where Sam and Dean are arguing about some random topic and Sam exasperatedly says "I can't believe you're my soulmate" and Dean's like "you better hope i'm your soulmate because only i would put up with the fact that you don't like licorice"

#samdean #wincest #sam and dean #domestic!winchesters #soulmates #mine #sam winchester #spn #supernatural #dean winchester

[samdeancrimespree]

the wincest marriage parallels in roadkill are so. fucking blatant. like molly goes “the only time we fight like that is when we’re stuck in the car.” and sam goes “yeah, i know how that goes.” and dean kinda raises an eyebrow at him. and then she’s like “you know the last thing i said to him? i called him a jerk.” ??????!!??? ok writers we get it. sam is the wife. please shut up

#no subtext. just straight up text #like. what next #dean goes ‘did he call you a bitch?’ #i swear to GOD #spn studies #idek what to tag this as #parallels #spn #this show is insane #mars.txt #liveblogging from mars #soulmatism

[lyssak09]

Hey can i ask a Yandere archangels hcs (separated) where their obsession is their soulmates?

Pronouns for the reader can be She/her

I didn't know exactly if you meant them in like a soulmate AU or something so I just did some soulmate AUs from the wonderful @creativepromptsforwriting. Some have different soulmate AUs than others. I really enjoyed writing this! Happy reading 💙

Yandere Archangels soulmates

Lucifer

Name & Telepathy

Archangels weren’t made for humans, so why the fuck did a name replace his vessel’s soulmate’s name. 

When Lucifer took over Nick’s body he never thought about the soulmate thing his father put in place for you humans. Nick’s soulmate had already died so he didn’t really think about it.

Til he felt a burning sensation on his left arm one day, Lucifer saw Sarah’s name (Nick’s deceased wife) disappear and a new name replace it, Y/N.

You on the other hand were born with the name Lucifer on your left arm. Your parents couldn’t believe someone would name their baby Lucifer! When you were old enough to fully understand the whole soulmate concept you just thought your soulmate had cruel parents to name them that.

The thought that the Lucifer is your soulmate never even crossed anyone's mind. 

Lucifer wanted to know why he had a soulmate, he did research and found nothing about archangels having soulmates. This must be another cruel joke from his father. Like he could ever have a soulmate.

He tried to ignore it and pretend nothing changed. But a part of him wanted to know if you were real or not. Lucifer thought about you more than he would ever like to admit. To the point you could hear his thoughts, sure you’ve heard of soulmates being connected telepathically but never thought you’d be one of those who are.

“Why the fuck would he give me a soulmate? I fell from heaven because of humans, I wasn’t his favorite anymore because of them! They’re a broken, flawed, and murderous species! It's so like him to make one be my soulmate” You heard someone say, you shot your head up, looking for the owner of the voice. Finding nothing you try to brush it off and continue with what you were doing. “I wonder if I’m her soulmate? Now that would be a plot twist.” You hear the voice laugh. You’re either going crazy, or you can hear your soulmate. “Imagine, having the devil as your soulmate! HA! ‘Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Lucifer’ that would be fun to see.” The voice cackles. Yep, you’re going crazy.

Hearing him in your head has caused you to think about the crazy person who’s your soulmate, causing the telepathic connection between you to reach him.

“I can’t believe my soulmate is crazy. He thinks he’s the devil! He’s gotta be in an institution or something.” Lucifer hears right as he’s killing a lone angel. He stares at the angel whom he has in a choke hold, “Did you say something?”. The angel looks at him like he’s nuts. “Yeah, you’re right, it's probably nothing. Anyways, enjoy your snooze fest wings!” Lucifer grins then disintegrates the angel. “The person who is supposed to complete me says he’s the devil. I mean, that's crazy! I hope he gets help before I meet him if I ever meet him.” He hears the voice again, Lucifer whips his head around but finds no one is near. He thinks before he gains a smirk, “I guess she is real. I have a soulmate.”. Lucifer laughs before looking up at the sky, “Thanks pop, this should be fun”

Since hearing your voice Lucifer is interested in meeting you now, there’s got to be a reason why God made you for him. He won’t admit it but he enjoys hearing you when you talk to yourself, he gets to learn more about you. And unfortunately, you are in fact interesting.

The more he learns about you/hears you the more he feels for you. Finding you has become a priority for him now. Lucifer finds your inner thoughts and monologues you do to be both stupid and adorable at the same time. He’s falling for you without meeting you, not that he would admit that.

Lucifer will finally figure out where you are because of your thoughts. He comes to stake you out, he doesn’t expect to be smitten by your idiotic and stupid pretty face. It makes him angry how he feels about you now, not only was he falling for you just from hearing you and your thoughts, but now he’s actually physically attracted to you!

Lucifer will secretly watch you, either he’ll do it himself or have a demon do it for him if he has matters to attend to. Watching you, your daily routines, and how you interact with people doesn’t help Lucifer in trying to find out why you’re his soulmate. But it does unfortunately cause him to fall for you even more.

He’ll ‘coincidently’ bump into you sometimes, just to interact with you, even if it's just for a second. Lucifer tells himself he does it to learn about you and your weaknesses, but he just wants to see you and talk to you.

It starts to become less of a coincidence that he’s almost everywhere you are and more of a very creepy purposeful thing in your eyes. To the point where you just straight-up confront him on it one day.

“Look Nick, I’m starting to think you’re following me everywhere and it needs to stop. If you have something to say then just come right out with it.” You scold the man, expecting his smile to fall, but no… He smiles wider. The man you call Nick seems like he’s about to say something but he stops himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N,” He says giving you a look you can’t decipher. You shake your head and continue walking home.

The next day you would in fact see him again. Not knowing everything is about to change.

You enter your living room and find ‘Nick’ looking around it, picking up and staring at the photos you have up. “What the hell are you doing Nick? Why are you in my house!” You scold the man and her turns to face you. “I’ve come for my soulmate” ‘Nick’ smiles then pulls up his sleeve a bit up and shows you his left arm, your name clear as ever on his arm. You feel a shock and panic course through you, you scramble to look at your arm, knowing that it has said Lucifer all your life, and it still does. Confusion washes over your face. “My arm says Lucifer, not Nick.” You replied, your eyebrows furrowing. ‘Nick’ walks towards you. “My name isn’t actually Nick babe, it’s Lucifer. And we’re meant to be” He smiles and then his eyes flash glowing red…

“I know why my father made you my soulmate, why he made us soulmates. The irony of me falling for a human, the very species that caused me to fall and no longer be favorited or accepted by him, is too much for him to not enjoy.”

He takes you to your new home, Hell. Lucifer will confess how he didn’t want you at first but you’re so special and different. How could he not fall for you?

Gabriel

Telepathy & Dreamy

Archangels don’t sleep, right? Then why is he dreaming?

Ever since he went to earth and became one with his vessel (who is unnamed) he blinks and then finds himself in some weird place. A dream maybe?

He’ll be in said place for however long then ‘wakes up’ back wherever he was, more like he blinks then is back in his house or whatever. Like he never left.

The times he was shoved into this world/place (?) would vary. He couldn’t do much in this place. Mainly watch what happens. The main constant in the place was a girl, which happens to be you.

As he witnesses what must be dreams, he learns more about you.

You’re the best part of humanity he’s seen in a very long time.

Gabriel will start doing research, finding out what he’s witnessing is in fact someone’s dreams, his soulmate’s actually. He learns this is a part of the soulmate thing his father put in place for you humans. 

Why he’s yours or why you’re his, he doesn’t know. But he frankly, doesn’t care as to why. He just wants to know more about you.

Gabe will learn how to gain more control of your dreams, trying to manipulate them slightly, in hopes of talking to you.

Gabriel was quietly watching your dream from the sidelines. He found you so cute and adorable. Seeing what your brain comes up with as you sleep was also fascinating to him. He can’t wait to finally be able to interact with you and your dreams. Gabe is already picturing all the dates he’ll take you on in your dreams. 

You didn’t believe you had a soulmate for a long time, unlike most people when you dreamt you never saw someone consistently in your dreams, aka your soulmate. So when you started to see this man in your dreams you didn’t really think he was your soulmate, just something your brain conjured up.  

Until the man came up to you in your dream and spoke to you. You were happy to finally have a soulmate. The man you learned is named Gabriel and he was beyond giddy to finally be able to talk to you.

From then on when you would dream Gabe would change the dream, making it like dates. So you could learn more about him, don’t worry he already knows everything about you now 🙂

Gabriel doesn’t tell you that he’s an archangel or that angels and god actually exists yet, so when he tells you about himself he makes it simpler. “Oh, do I have siblings? Yeah, I have 3 brothers I was close to, the others I never really interacted much with since they were made way after me.” “Do I still see my brothers? HA! Hell no, not after the war- I mean the falling out between two of them.” “Am I close to my parents…..uhm no, my father abandoned us basically.”

But the longer this goes on he starts to show more of himself to you, his unhealthy feelings towards you. Becoming too touchy, sharing way more information about yourself than he should know, and getting irritated when you mention any male in your life. 

Gabriel starts to come off too strong. “You people believe in marriage right? We should do that then. Secure the deal legally!” 

He says that the 3rd time you talk to him in one of your dreams.

Gabe starts to push the idea of meeting you way quicker than you’d like. If you mention that he’s moving too quickly for you he’ll get upset. 

“What-what do you mean? We’re soulmates Y/N! You were literally made for me! My father made you for me! We’re meant to be!” Gabe exclaimed in frustration. You give him a strange look. “What do you mean ‘your father’?” You try to question him, Gabriel lets out a sigh before explaining that he’s an archangel and his father is God, who happens to actually exist. ‘He’s crazy! He thinks he’s an angel? He cannot be my soulmate!’ you think before trying to wake up and get away from him.

He didn’t appreciate you cutting your time together short. Nor will he appreciate it when you start trying to avoid him by not sleeping. Not only is that unhealthy for you but you’re staying away from him! He hates that. It feels like you’re abandoning him, and we all know how he feels about that.

Gabriel starts searching for you, which isn’t too hard since he knows way too much about you. While you’re trying to find out if you can get rid of a soulmate, or at least keep them out of your dreams.

Unfortunately for you, he knows what you’re trying to do, luckily for him, he can hear your thoughts if he focuses on you. You don’t know he can do that as your soulmate. 

After the fifth night of staying awake, you’re starting to get the sleep deprivation effects, such as hallucinating. Which will give Gabriel a huge advantage.

He’ll come for you after finally figuring out where you are in the world. It’s late at night and you’re too exhausted to fight against him or even realize that he’s real. You just think you're hallucinating when a man looking like your soulmate randomly appears in your room.

You honestly made it way easier for him to take you home, if you had slept more you’d be able to fight against him, maybe he wouldn’t have had to take you so quickly if you slept and met him in your dreams. But it's too late for it now. He easily scoops you up and takes you to your new home, his home.

“Welcome home, sweetcheeks”

Michael

Danger alert & name & telepathy

When Michael took over Dean’s body he didn’t expect to gain a soulmate, especially you. You were Dean’s soulmate, your name was on his left arm and everything. But after Michael was in his body for a couple of weeks he felt a weird sensation on Dean’s right arm, your name was starting to appear. 

He was more confused than anything. Why would his father give you two soulmates? Why would he make you his soulmate in the first place? 

Michael couldn’t understand why Chuck gave him, an archangel, a soulmate.

As much as he would have liked to ignore this, he couldn’t. He was intrigued. Not just because he somehow has a soulmate, but because you are his soulmate. His destined vessel’s soulmate is also his! That is fascinating to him.

So he’ll go through Dean’s mind to learn about you, even change up the imaginary bar he made to keep Dean preoccupied, to involve an imaginary you. He’ll learn more about you and why you’re so special to Dean that way. And it keeps Dean from realizing he’s locked away in his own mind/body for a bit longer.

The more he learns about you and sees memories of you from Dean the harder he falls. Who could see that coming?

Michael becomes obsessed with you, you’re not like other humans. Maybe that's why his father made you his soulmate.

He’ll also start to become overprotective, especially since he can feel when you’re in danger thanks to Dean’s soulmate connection to you.

You could be on a hunt with Sam or a dangerous research mission (to find a way to get Michael out of Dean’s body) with Cas, and be in danger till whatever creature was about to/was harming you all of a sudden disintegrates. But there won’t be a sign or a trace of what killed the creature.

You were pinned down by a vampire, trying to get it off of you while Sam fights his way towards you. This was supposed to be a simple hunt and research mission! “Y/N!” You hear Sam yell your name as he gets closer to you. “Y/N! I’m coming!” He yelled just as the vampire was going to bite me. I close my eyes and wince, but the weight against me disappears. I sit up a bit, All that's left of the vamp that was on me is some ashes. Sam and you look around trying to see who or what saved you, but find nothing. Not noticing Michael hiding in the shadows of the warehouse with you guys.

He won’t get to meet you for a while since you’re off helping Sam to get him out of Dean’s body, and he’s busy running around Earth. 

Michael has the upper hand though. You and Sam don’t know that he can hear your thoughts, because that's not a typical soulmate connection to have. You don’t know that you’re his soulmate yet either. So whatever plans you and Sam come up with are easily foiled by him.

Michael likes to try and implant thoughts into your subconscious using the telepathy he’s gotten as your soulmate.

He might convince Dean to work with him by manipulating him and telling him you can be his forever if he just works with him, Michael will even supply that apple pie life Dean wants. 

Michael will still be in control more often than not if Dean agrees though. He’ll let Dean control his body much more often than he currently is if works with him.

And how could Dean resist? Not only would he gain control of his body back, but he’d also get his soulmate and the dream life he wants, and he’d be able to finally act on all of his dark feelings for you while being able to blame it all on Michael.

You still only have Dean’s name on you though. This will infuriate Michael once he finds out. How can you be his soulmate but he’s not yours? It makes him angry and jealous. Shouldn’t he be meant for you just like you are for him?

But it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re with him then everything is fine.

He is extremely manipulative. During one of your attempts to get him out of Dean’s body, Michael takes note of how much you love Dean and how you’re willing to do anything for him. He wants you to feel like that for him. 

So one day after another failed attempt to save Dean Michael makes a deal with you. Give yourself up and you’ll have Dean back. You want to immediately agree but why does he of all people want you specifically to give yourself up?

You demand to know why and he smiles. “Because I want my soulmate by my side.” His smile turns into a grin as he pulls up his sleeve on his right arm, revealing your name on it. You gasp, your jaw unclenches, going slack, and you scramble to look at your left arm. You’re afraid that his name has taken Dean’s place but find it hasn’t changed. “As much as I would love to explain it, I don’t know why my name isn’t on your arm when we’re destined to be together. But that doesn’t matter right now. Will you come with me or not?” He leans towards you as he crosses his arms. You pace in thought for a moment before looking at him, shoulders slumped and frown. “You promise you’ll let him go? Like vacate from him, find a new ‘vessel’ or whatever?” You question and nervously fidget. He licks his lips quickly before gaining an even wider grin, “Yes. I’ll leave his body.”, Michaels lies right through his teeth. He’d be stupid to give up his true vessel, the one that makes him even more powerful than he already was. But you don’t know this, so you reluctantly agree, thinking you’re saving Dean. No matter how much Sam screams at you to not say yes, that we’ll find another way to save him, you can’t hear him over the thought of Dean being free again. “I’ll go with you.”

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere headcanon #miss blue writing #ask lyssa #yandere supernatural #yandere soulmate au #lucifer spn #yandere lucifer #gabriel spn #yandere gabriel #michael spn #yandere michael #supernatural #spn #soulmate au #yandere soulmates

[nancylou444]

#spn 15.20 #soulmates from birth to death #wincest #for the win #bibros #the gift that keeps on giving #destiehellers #it will forever suck to be them #it's been three years #time to get on with your sad lives

[marchtothefuckingsea]

The Devil's Heel - Lucifer (Supernatural)

My Masterlist

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Injury, canon violence and descriptions of gore/injury. Not proofread.

soulmate au (where an angel's soulmate can see their wings because i love thag au so much), x gender neutral reader, no usage of y/n! Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort.

Summary: Reader has a bad past with angels. They get hurt on a hunt and, although they didn't know the devil that has been staying in the bunker was their soulmate, Lucifer comes to the rescue. They're terrified, understandably so.

I groaned in pain as I was thrown into a wall for the second time today. My head slammed backwards against it, and I saw stars. A weak moan left my lips when gravity worked its magic. I slid down ungracefully to the floor, my body a limp heap. My angel blade clattered onto the floor a meter away from me. The demon-who I hadn't identified yet-kicked the knife even further away from my grasping hands; just for good measure.

"You fucking-" I hissed out, shoving myself to my uninjured forearm, hunched over and gasping. My trembling voice did little to hide the panic threatening to claw its way up my throat. This was just supposed to be a salt and burn. Maybe a poltergeist at worst.

"How original." He sneered. A hand came down, gingerly taking my angel blade I always kept at my side. I raised my head and growled, low and raspy, and he suddenly plunged it into my shoulder. A strangled gasp escaped me as I toppled backwards from the force of the blow, clutching my shoulder. The demon ripped it out, cutting my palms in the process. He slashed it across my chest once, then twice over my torso. My vision was blurred badly. I could barely whimper out hoarse noises of agony, only able to toss my head back and forth. I was barely conscious.

Even so, as I drifted in and out of consciousness, I couldn't help but to be forced to relive the pain, the torture that had come during my 'stay' with certain angels.

I heard a voice in the distance.It was the demon; finally tired of toying with me and, with a bored sigh, sunk the angel blade somewhere through my broken ribs. First came the shock. Then I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my chest when I drew in a surprised gasp. It became hard to breath without triggering the agony, so my breath came in short pants. Instinctively, I just wanted the thing in my chest that was causing me pain out. So, without giving it a second thought, that's what I did. I grasped at the handle of the blade, crying out as it slid out of my chest.

The demon immediately knocked the knife out of my hand, as if I was any threat to him in my current condition. I went limp, realizing my mistake of removing the blade when it now became even harder to breathe. My hand rested limply over the wound with the intent to apply pressure, that I didn't have the strength in me for. My eyes fluttered shut.

I flinched when I heard the sound of feathers fluttering; the sound an all too familiar one to me. I struggled to not bolt upright, hoping it was just a figment of my near-death brain, tormenting me before I died. Even so, I forced my eyes open. I fought to focus my eyes on the new winged figure, who was obviously an angel. There was only one angel, I knew, whose wings I could see. It was none other than Lucifer.

Lucifer, the fallen archangel. Lucifer, one of the oldest and most powerful of his brothers and sisters. Lucifer, who was supposed to be caged in the bunker, at the moment. The devil himself, who appeared to have escaped the banker's warding to keep him contained from causing the apocalypse.

My eyes widened in alarm. I forced myself onto my forearms, immediately regretting the action when pain shot through my right arm. Panting, I writhed on my side, struggling to put as much distance between myself and the archangel as I could. His eyes, red with fury, darted between the demon and my broken form on the floor. His wings were spread out in what could only be meant to intimidate. They were taut, and almost vibrated with rage. I heard him mutter something low and angry under his breath, before the demon was a stuttering mess. It apologized hastily, but that didn't stop the devil. He raised his hand, middle finger and thumb tips poised to snap. The demon backed up as if the distance would keep him safe. A snap echoed hauntingly throughout the abandoned room, and the demon exploded into a cloud of black dust. It only reminded me just how powerful the archangel, who now faced me, was. I shrank back, panting shallowly and cradling my broken forearm to my chest.

I heard him say something, but my brain couldn’t register it. All I knew was, before I could even blink twice, he was standing beside me, peering down at me. His eyes, now blue, roamed over my beaten form, taking in my condition. I shifted, struggling away from him until I coughed. My breath hitched in my throat painfully as I twisted around for the angel blade sheathed at my hip, only to remember it had been knocked out of my grip by the demon, and had clattered onto the floor uselessly. Blood bubbled up in my mouth, confirming what I already knew was true. I coughed again, and again, fighting to twist onto my stomach. No matter how much it hurt, I knew I would drown in my own blood if I didn’t; but I couldn’t. The deep wounds on my abdomen bled profusely, soaking the worn floorboards with my blood, so much that it began to pool around me. It made the floor slippery, and my hand slipped uselessly against the floor as I struggled to right myself. With every shallow breath came a little more blood. I continued to cough, instinctively, even though it hurt more than anything.

I didn’t have the strength to fight when I felt arms wrap around my body, pulling me into the devil’s lap as he now kneeled on the floor beside me. Still coughing up blood, I gratefully sucked in the air I could now get, thanks to not lying on my back anymore. I panted, unable to focus on anything but the air in my lungs; and the pain in my lungs that would have had me sobbing if I had the breath to.

When the coughing fit ended, I laid limp in Lucifer’s arms for a moment more, my energy spent. It took me several heartbeats before I began to kick my legs weakly, and then fought against his iron grip. I knew he was abnormally strong, much stronger than any human. If he didn’t want to let me go, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. And he didn’t. My eyes widened in panic, and I struggled more and more against his grip on me. He allowed me to flip onto my side, and I whipped my head up. His eyes had an uncharacteristic softness in them. That, paired with the foreign expression on his face, only served to further confuse and scare me. I had been tortured and nearly killed-only to be healed and brought back for more-by so called angels many times over. I knew how quickly angels could shift. If angels were that terrible, the fallen archangel holding me now could only be much, much worse.

I whimpered pathetically, writhing in his grip as I remembered how he had turned that demon-the one that had just about killed me-into nothing so easily. He was a creature of nightmares, far worse than a demon. He was, after all, the devil himself.

“Calm down, sheesh.” He said, though it wasn’t accompanied by an eye roll or the sarcastic tone it usually would have been. His voice was flat, deadpan at most, tinged with something bordering worry. Almost like..fear? What could the devil possibly have to fear?

I forced myself to still, my breath still coming in pained, shallow pants. He shifted me in his arms, and I found myself letting him. I didn't make any attempt to shuffle away from him, even when I had the chance to do so. Maybe I was too tired. I had lost a lot of blood, after all; I was dying. And I didn't know what the devil had in his plans for me. The thought sent a jolt of fear into my very being.

I did protest, though, when his arms slid under me and he stood, hoisting me up with him effortlessly. I found myself clutching to him with shaking hands, a strangled, painful noise leaving my throat at the

small movement. His wings curled around the both of us almost protectively, although I had the nagging feeling it was more for me than for him. I clung to him as the familiar, yet foreign feeling of angel teleportation washed over me. The few times I had experienced it, it had felt completely different; it had felt wrong. Uncomfortable, to say the least. My entire being had tingled almost painfully, like pins and needles. But this time, with Lucifer, it felt familiar in the most foreign way possible. A comfortable warmth spread through every fiber of my being. One that almost felt as if it were coming from inside me, as well as him; instead of the pins and needles that had tried to painfully penetrate my skin before. If it hadn't been for the terror of my past trauma, I might have even found it comforting.

When my eyes finally focused, I realized we were at the bunker. I felt a little better at the familiar surroundings. Simultaneously, remembering the Winchester's absence, my fear rose. But exhaustion and shock were beginning to catch up to me. As well as the knowledge that I would most certainly die if I didn't tend to my injuries.

"Let me go." I mumbled, pushing my hand against his chest.

"Do you really think you can stand in your condition?" He argued, but he shifted me in his arms anyway. Carefully, with more caution that I would have expected, he stood me on my feet. He didn't go far, nearly hovering over me as he let me go. As soon as he let go, my legs buckled, and he was holding my waist, lowering me to the floor.

"Get away from me." I hissed out painfully. My chest felt like I had been stabbed again as I inhaled sharply.

"Do you want to die or do you want to die?" He shook his head, glaring at me. "Stubborn humans." He muttered under his breath, crossing his arms.

He turned around, taking several paces away from me before spinning back around. "What will it be?"

"I- I need help." I admitted quetly, hanging my head in defeat.

"I guess you're not the most stupid one." He mused, as if this were a game. "But, haven't you ever been told not to make deals with the devil?"

I grit my teeth. "'S not really like I have a choice right now."

"Right-o there." He grinned. He kneeled beside me once again. His hand outstretched, two fingers poised to touch the most fatal wound I had; the puncture to my lung.

I shrank away, willing myself to allow it to just happen. As his fingertips began to glow, I panicked.

"No, no. No grace-" I mumbled out, flinching into the wall.

He noticed my fear and, unlike I had expected, he withdrew his hand immediately. His expression was torn for a split second, but ultimately he allowed the confusion to show clear on his face. "What? Why not?"

"I can't..explain. Just.." My voice shook. "Please." I said quietly, my lungs hurting more with every word.

He surprised me yet again with the suddenly softer tone in his voice. "I'm going to have to, for this one at least." He explained gently. I debated, struggling internally. He waited patiently, never showing a hint of impatience or irritation.

"Okay." I answered softly. I felt how each breath hurt more and more; it became harder and harder to suck in air as my lung collapsed. He nodded grimly, so close now that he took up the entirety of my unfocused sight. In my peripherals, his wings curled around me protectively, though I tried not to focus on them. I had a hard time believing that the devil was suddenly protective of me, but I didn't want to think of how his wings could be boxing me in as well.

He glanced at me for confirmation, surprising me, and I nodded. Still, I couldn't help but to shrink against the wall as his glowing fingers met the fatal wound on my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, clenching my jaw and preparing for the pain that usually came with an angel's healing.

But just like before, Lucifer's grace was warm, and entirely unpainful. Compared to my previous experiences with being healed by angels, where I had felt the bones in my body shifting painfully back into place, and the stinging of open wounds being forced back together; this was a part of me. It was something bigger than both of us, I could sense that much, but there was something in me that rose up to meet his grace when he used it on me.

I found myself relaxing at the comforting warmth, the safety, I felt. My muscles relaxed, and I slumped against the wall. A small sigh left my lips when I realized I was able to breathe without nearly as much pain anymore. Still though, I hesitated to open my eyes.

"It's done." Lucifer's voice told me, uncharacteristically kind. I knew once I was in my right mind again, I would be getting serious whiplash from this.

"Thank you." I said gratefully, finally opening my eyes. I had to stop myself from jerking back at his unexpected closeness. His vessel's blue eyes were level with mine, something unreadable flitting around in them.

"Let me heal the rest." His voice wasn't pleading-he was the devil, and he never would stoop that low-but it was close.

"No, I'm-" I hissed between gritted teeth as I pushed myself to my feet. He stood quickly, mirroring my actions. "I'm fine."

I took a hesitant step forward, still weak, and stumbled right into him. "Woah there." He said, catching me by the shoulders, his wings once again curling around me; seemingly out of instinct, by now. I flinched purely out of instinct, although I didn't know what I had been expecting to happen. He had already proved he wouldn't harm me.

"I'm fine." I repeated stubbornly, suddenly aware he had healed my arm, too. I looked down at my arm, then to him, narrowing my eyes. "Thank you." I said half begrudgingly.

He shrugged. "Figured you couldn't bandage yourself up with just one working arm."

"Guess so." I grunted, shuffling against the wall. I stopped in the hallway, just outside the door to the infirmary. I closed my eyes, leaning against the doorframe and letting out a nauseated breath.

"You good?" His voice made me jump. I hadn't expected him to follow me here; I thought he would have lost interest now that the threat of death was no longer looming over me. The excitement was gone. Even more puzzling, was the seemingly genuine question from the devil.

"I'm good." I answered, a bit more harshly than I had intended to. He didn't seem offended in the least.

With more effort than it should have taken, I finally pushed the door to the infirmary open, staggering in. I immediately went for the painkillers, before remembering the archangel that had followed me into the room, not leaving my side for a second. I hesitated, before groaning and turning to the bandages and disinfectants. I hoisted myself onto the bed, letting everything onto the bed beside me.

Tugging my shirt off, I still hissed in pain at the various deep slashes that were littered across my stomach and ribs. I looked up for a moment to find Lucifer leaning against the doorframe, a frown on his face. As soon as he caught me though, he immediately opened his mouth to, most likely, make a sharp remark.

"Not in the mood." I ground out, my eyes flashing to his for a brief moment. Surprisingly, he shut his mouth.

Tears welled in my eyes at the burning sensation as I dabbed at the gouges in my skin with a water-dampened cloth. My hands shook. This wasn't even the worst of it yet.

Next came the alcohol. That was, until I couldn't help the whimper and the involuntary jerk of my hand that caused the bottle to go flying onto the floor. I grasped my stomach as if that would help to lessen the pain, gasping. Out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw Lucifer flinch simultaneously.

"You need, uh, you need help with that?" He offered, his voice guarded as he tried not to sound too helpful.

"Yeah, probably." I sighed in defeat. I held myself still from flinching when he came closer. His fingertips brushed mine as he took the bandages and cloth. Gently, he dabbed at the gashes running across my stomach, while my hands balled up the white sheets into fists. I grit my teeth.

"I could just heal them." He insisted again, sighing in annoyance.

I shook my head. "Why are you so against my grace?"

"I just am."

"There's more to it than that." He huffed, but the feathers on his wings didn't ruffleI as they usually did when he was irritated. I knew it was an invitation to open up to him.

I sucked in a sharp breath at the alcohol he poured onto a wound, jerking back slightly. "I haven't had the best experiences with it. Or angels in general." I said hesitantly, quietly. He hummed, indicating he was listening. "They..they tortured me before. For information." I put it bluntly. I didn't see the point in dancing around the truth, not around the devil.

A frown had formed on his face. His jaw was rigid and his wings moved towards me slightly, taut with tension as well. "What kind of information?"

"About you." My voice was small, in an attempt to not anger him further. It wasn't my fault, but I didn't know that.

His eyes began to glow with the faintest hint of red, and every muscle in his body was tensed. "Lucifer?" I asked quietly. He took a step back.

"This whole time, they knew, and they dared to-" He muttered to himself. At the rage in his voice, I unconsciously leaned away from him, my arms coming up around my now-bandaged waist defensively. He immediately cut himself off when he saw the fear on my face and in my posture, taking a deep breath. His eyes slowly faded back to his vessel's blue. His wings were still taut, but he gave me a look to continue.

"They would leave me nearly dead, then heal me up again with their grace for another round." I told him what I knew he wanted to hear; what they had done to me. Why I was afraid of his angel's grace. I grit my teeth, furiously wiping away the tears in my eyes. It had happened only a few months ago, and the memories were still fresh enough to almost feel them as I explained it.

His face held a sort of understanding now that he knew. He nodded, though I could still feel the fury radiating off of him.

"Why are you still here?" I asked, in an attempt to break the ice and as a genuine question. "I'm not going to die anymore, there's no more excitement to be had." He pretended to look offended.

"Couldn't let my soulmate just die now, could I?" Soulmate. Even though it sounded foreign to me, it almost immediately seemed to make sense. It was the word, no, the explanation I had been looking for since the strangeness of his grace, compared to the other angels. That, and the closer bond that had seemed to draw the two of us together ever since he had first used his grace on me.

Even so, I had to consciously make an effort to close my mouth that had opened in shock. "We're-"

"Surprise! Your soulmate is the devil. Lucky you, right?" He grinned, though I could see something in his eyes that wasn't right.

"No, more like lucky you." I smiled weakly, still unsure. I had come across very brief, shallow information of angels and soulmates before in different texts, but I still knew so little about it. "You get a hunter as a soulmate."

He faked a grimace. "Yeah." He seemed more relaxed though, and I knew what I hadn't been able to place in his eyes before. He was afraid that I would be disappointed. That he had waited only god knows how long for a soulmate-maybe even believing he didn't have one, as part of his punishment-only for his soulmate to hate him, to hate being tied to the devil himself.

"So how does this..work…now?" I trailed off, gesturing between us.

"We're attached at the hip now!" He exclaimed.

"Seriously. Why didn't this come up before? How long have you known? Did-" I was silenced by a finger to my lips, and suddenly Lucifer was much closer than he ever had been, face inches from mine.

"Quiet with the questions, sheesh." He groaned, leaning away. "May I?" He motioned to the empty spot on the bed beside me. I nodded.

"First of all, my grace, well, activates the bond, you could say. That's why this hasn't happened before. I didn't know until then, either. Although, I've always had this nagging pull towards you, I suppose. Annoying." He huffed. I unconsciously leaned towards him, our shoulders brushing.

"Being my..mate," He almost hesitated at using that word, glancing at me, but I didn't grimace or react negatively towards his word choice. "Your soul is intertwined with mine. In other words, you have a small bit of my grace in you. And I, a small piece of your soul."

"That's why your grace doesn't hurt." I mumbled in realization, more to myself than to him. "Oh."

He looked down at me, eyes telling me to explain. "The angels, when they used their grace on me before. It was like it was penetrating into my skin. It hurt. But yours…didn't. Not at all."

He explained more, but I began to nod off against his shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up to me. The sound of his voice was surprisingly comforting as I dozed, until he stopped, noticing my unconsciousness.

"Let's get you to your own bed." He stood, slowly, so I had time to wake up before I dropped from his shoulder. I jolted awake at the movement, apologizing profusely once I realized what I had done. The smug smile on his face told me enough.

I leaned against him heavily as we walked down the hallway to my own room. He shoved the door open, nearly supporting me by my waist. I immediately slumped onto the bed with a sigh and a wince. My eyes already began to shut again, until Lucifer pulled away. When I opened them, his wings were taut, poised to leave.

"Don't go."

His look was one of surprise. "What?"

"Stay here." I knew, with the events of today, that my nightmares would be haunting me the minute I slipped off into sleep. I didn't know how to explain it to myself, least of all to him, how I felt safer with him there. How the prospect of him leaving at the moment was almost scary to me. I didn't have to though, he read it all through our bond.

He nodded silently, kicking his shoes off and sitting on the edge of the bed. He waited for my confirmation before pulling me against him and lying us both down on the mattress. With a sigh, I felt myself immediately relaxing against him.

I felt safe as I drifted off, though somewhere in the back of my head, I knew this was the devil and he was dangerous. But I also knrw there was no threat here. Not as long as he was with me.

#spn lucifer #spn lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #spn #supernatural #lucifer spn x reader #lucifer spn #winchesters #soulmate au #kindred spirits au #supernatural soulmate au #dean winchester #sam winchester #x reader #supernatural x reader #supernstural hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #ceo of hurt/comfort #spn x reader #men of letters #men of letters bunker #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #supernatural fic

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: Language, fluff.

Part 3: Contact

As it turned out, your life started to get better after you missed that shift at the coffee shop.

Oh, you still got fired. But the experience of nearly getting splattered on the pavement by an oncoming truck gave you some unexpected clarity about your life.

Mainly, you needed to stop wasting it. You were tired of jobs that would pay your bills but not bring you closer to your career. And frivolous thoughts of coffee shop boys and…the hope of running into your soulmate.

Maybe one day, you could dare to hope, but from now on, you wouldn’t let it rule your thoughts. You wouldn’t hope too hard either.

It could save you from the disappointment of never hearing anyone’s thoughts but your own.

So you decided to check the University of South Dakota’s career board for jobs, and you discovered an opening in the history department! A research assistant for one of your favorite professors, who was writing their dissertation on the strange, superstitious, and sometimes down-right disgusting social practices of the Ancient Greeks (including bottling up the sweat of their best athletes, because they thought their musky body oils contained magical properties).

Since you were already majoring in history, you were a shoe-in for the job. And working directly with your professor gave you a great resource for future classes.

Four years later, you had earned your bachelor’s degree in History. You even decided to further your education when you were able to get a scholarship for graduate school.

Now you were just one semester away from finishing your master’s. You still worked in the history department, but you had been able to upgrade—to Executive Secretary to the Dean of Ancient Studies.

It sounded fancy, but really, you were a glorified slave. Or at least, your boss seemed to think so.

“I need you to cancel my meeting at two,” said Dr. Birch. She breezed into your tiny office without knocking, startling you from where you were hunched over your laptop.

“Good morning!” came your reflexive greeting, though it was a bit too loud and sharp. You internally winced at yourself and relaxed your posture, like a bird unruffling its feathers. “Cancel your meeting with Dr. Wells?”

Dr. Wells was a nice man, and an important one. He was the Head Dean of the entire History department. Technically, he was above Dr. Birch. It wasn’t a good look to blow him off, but you weren’t about to say so.

“Yes, I have an important lunch, and I already know it’s going to go overtime. Gary will understand,” she replied. She was looking at her phone rather than at you. For all she cared, you were just a calendar with hands.

Dr. Helen Birch was a brilliant woman. She’d published no less than five books, had won awards for her peer-reviewed articles, and she had been your academic advisor all through graduate school.

She could also rival Meryl Streep for “bitchy-ass boss” in The Devil Wears Prada.

“I also need you to grade the final exams for one of my classes,” she said. “Greek Studies this time.”

You held back a sigh. Again? I’ll never finish my own finals at this rate.

But what you said was, “Sure, I can do that. And I’ll email Dr. Wells to reschedule.”

“Yes, make sure it’s not on Thursday,” she said, brushing a finger through her thin blonde hair. “I have to leave early to get my roots touched up before I go away this weekend.”

“That’s fun,” you chatted while you revised Dr. Birch’s calendar on your computer (and sent an apology email to Dr. Wells). “Where to?”

“Oh, I have this tedious conference in Chicago. But then my boyfriend is taking me skiing in Breckenridge.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I simply can’t wait. This semester has been a drain on my psyche, and just terrible for my migraines.”

With the email sent, you took a little breath and gathered some courage as you got up from your desk and gathered a handful of papers you had stapled together. It was a rough draft of your thesis, which was only a bit worse for wear (including a suspect coffee stain that you didn’t remember accidentally putting there).

“Actually, I was going to ask you if you got my email about my thesis. I just wanted to go over some of the feedback you gave me on the draft,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Dr. Birch raised a brow. “What of it?”

“Well.” You showed her the front page, which was covered in red ink. “Mainly the part where you crossed out the first three pages and commented, ‘Missing the point.’”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid I have nothing to add about that.”

Well, that didn’t exactly help you. The first three pages was your entire introduction to your thesis, “TV & Film: The Modern-Day Mythology of the Masses.”

You must’ve had a pitiful, lost look on your face, because Dr. Birch finally took pity on you. She sighed.

“You are a creative girl. I’ll give you that, but your degree is not in cinematography. You are a historian,” she said. “And while the ‘Well of Souls’ in Raiders of the Lost Ark may be based on a real historical place in Jerusalem, that does not mean Indiana Jones can, or should be described as a ‘religious experience.’”

My ten-year-old self would bed to differ, you wanted to retort, but you kept your mouth shut and lowered your eyes. Dr. Birch nodded to herself and was about to leave your office, until she stopped short and gave you her Amex card.

“Oh. And get me a coffee, would you, dear?”      

The moment your day ended and you were able to get into your car, you let out a long sigh of relief. While you waited for your car to warm up, you massaged your hand, aching from grading papers for Dr. Birch’s class.

You rubbed your hands together, this time to warm them as the frigid air draining from the car still bit into your skin. A shudder tingled through your body, and not in a pleasant way. Honest to God, I hate the winter.

On reflex, you toyed with the silver ring on your right hand—your mom’s ring. It usually comforted you, but today, remembering her made your heart heavy. Because today was the anniversary. 

You still remembered that snowy day when you were fourteen, could picture it so clearly, like a scene painted on glass.

With one last sigh, you fished out your phone to call your dad. It rang for a few seconds (it always took him an eternity to answer his phone, and it drove you crazy).

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad,” you said.

“Hey. Just got off work?”

“Yeah, I’m headed back to Sioux Falls. Want to meet at home and go together, or do you just want to meet me at the cemetery?”

The other line was silent for a moment. Longer than you would’ve liked.

“You’re coming, right?” you pressed.

“Look, I’m gonna have to work late tonight,” Jack said. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Really?” Your voice was terse. “It’s one day a year, Dad. You can’t even manage that?”

“I told you I’m working a case.” He sounded annoyed. You didn’t care.

You were pissed.

“Whatever,” you dismissed. But then, you realized you weren’t willing to let it go just yet. “You know, I just find it interesting. On her birthday, Christmas, today, somehow you just can’t be bothered to visit your wife.”

“Hey, drop it, all right?” your dad snapped back.

“Sure. It’s none of my business, I guess.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm either.”

You silently fumed, but you weren’t willing to hang up the phone first. You didn’t want to look petty, and apparently, neither did he. You both could be stubborn like that, sitting in a tense stretch of silence instead of just…

Instead of just, I don’t know what, you could admit, if only to yourself. Eventually, his voice reached your ears.

“I’ll go when I can,” he said.

“Fine.”

And you really did hang up this time.

What should’ve been an hour drive back into your hometown took almost two with the traffic.

Oh yeah, you still lived at home with your dad. It wasn’t ideal, especially with a long-ass commute every day. But unfortunately, being a full-time student with a part-time job didn’t give you the budget to have your own life.   

At least you had your car—a dark blue Camaro your uncle had restored and gifted you for your twenty-first birthday. You didn’t talk to your Uncle Bobby as much as you would like. Between work and school and taking care of the house for you and your dad, you didn’t have much free time on your hands. You did see Bobby around town sometimes, and occasionally shared a beer with him when your demanding schedule allowed.

Your dad had never liked it, you hanging around your uncle. So you didn’t tell him.

That seemed to work out better for both of you.

In fact…

You reached for your phone again and found your uncle’s number.

“Stop badgering me, Rufus. I’m busy.”

Your lips curved into a grin. “Uncle Bobby?”

“Oh. Hi, darlin’. Sorry, thought you were some riff raff that keeps spammin’ me.”

“What did Rufus do now?” you asked.

“He knows,” Bobby said. The surly edge to his voice made you smile in amusement.

“What’re you doing later? Up for a beer?”

“Usually I’d take you up on that, but I’ve got some people coming in pretty soon.”

You scoffed. “You have people? What people?”

“You’re not the only number in my cell, you know,” he said dryly.

“What, you mean Rufus?” you teased.

“All right, now you’re just runnin’ up my minutes,” he said. “If you really want that beer, you’re welcome to swing by, if you want. I’ve got a stocked fridge full of cold ones.”

You laughed, then you considered his offer. Did you really want to go home and deal with your dad (whenever he bothered to come home)?

“Well, I’m going to the cemetery first, but I could maybe swing by after,” you replied.

“Right, that’s today, ain’t it?” Bobby said. “Give your mom my respects.”

A more genuine smile grew on your lips. “Thanks. Will do.”

You hung up with him just as you got to the cemetery. It was hard not to feel melancholy here, especially in the winter. All the graves were lightly dusted with snow, and it felt like the world came to a quiet stillness here.

You bundled up with your scarf and gloves as you braced yourself for the cold, stepping out of the car. On your way in, you heard the rumble of a car going by. It was loud enough to make you turn your head and see a flash of black speeding away.

You shook your head. People drive like maniacs nowadays.

You were about to continue on your way towards your mom’s grave, when you finally heard it.

Say goodbyeee…never say goodbye-y-aaayy. Holdin’ on we gotta try, holdin’ on to never sayyy goodbyeee.~

Someone was warbling a Bon Jovi song in your mind, and it certainly wasn’t you.

But you did come to a dead stop in your path. Your eyes widened as shock claimed your heart and your brain. Soon enough though, your heart warmed as you became aware of something new. It was like a low hum at first, reverberating inside your chest.

You and me and my old friends, hopin’ it would neeever end. Say goodbye—

The singing continued, but all you could focus on was the thrumming in your skull, the thread of connection you could sense and feel inexplicably. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt warmth trickling down your cold cheeks. Sniffling, you wiped your tears with the back of your hand and smiled tremulously.

You were finally feeling your soulmate.

Which meant, he was close by…and with that realization came an important question:

What the hell do I do now?

They were in South Dakota again.

Dean knew coming back here was…potentially dangerous. He hadn’t heard his soulmate’s thoughts in four years, since the last time he was in this state.

Truth be told, he hadn’t wanted to come here. After the last hunt though, he could use some R&R at Bobby’s for a couple of days.

This time Dean had his brother with him, albeit the circumstances weren’t…great. Their dad was missing, and Sam had lost his girlfriend in the process of trying to find him.

Sometimes, Dean really regretted going to find his brother at Stanford. Part of him thought, if he hadn’t hooked Sam into coming with him to try and find John, maybe Jessica Moore would still be alive.

A more selfish part of him (one he wouldn’t name) was glad to have Sam with him. Dean was actually having fun hunting with him. And maybe, Dean was having to get to know him again too.

“You think Bobby will have any intel on Dad?” Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala. They were about five minutes away from Singer Salvage, the old man’s tow business (and his house).

“Doubt it,” Dean replied, changing the radio station once Bon Jovi turned to REO Speedwagon. He could get down with some pop rock from Jovi, but REO was pushing it.

“Then why are we here?” Sam turned to him with a frown. “We just ganked a poltergeist in our old house and…we saw Mom. You think we should be wasting time right now?”

Dean’s lips pursed. Leaving their old house behind in Lawrence, Kansas was exactly why he needed a minute before jumping into the next case. As much as he wanted to find John, Dean just…he needed a minute to breathe.

Revisiting those old (painful) memories wasn’t easy for him. He wasn’t sure that Sam completely got that.

“Bobby’s got a stack of lore books to Kingdom Come. Who knows, he might have a way to help us find Dad,” he said.

Sam shot him an unimpressed look. “And if he doesn’t?”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He got why Sam was so fired up. Really. The fact that the kid was having weird…premonition dreams about the near future was concerning. And he wanted to find the thing that killed Jess, that killed their mom, but this was clearly going to be a marathon. Not a sprint.

“In the meantime, we crack open a couple beers,” Dean said, “get one or two of free nights on actual beds, and then we’re on our way to the next gig. How’s that sound?”

Sam let out a sigh through his nose and faced the road ahead. They both knew he wasn’t happy. Dean couldn’t exactly blame him.

When they finally got to Bobby’s, the old man greeted them with a casual wave, beckoning them inside. He offered them the contents of his fridge—a few beers and a frozen lasagna defrosting in the fridge. Dean scoped it out while Sam dropped off his bag in the upstairs guest room.

“That for us?” Dean pointed to the lasagna with a grin. “Didn’t know we merited the red-carpet treatment.”

“’Cause it’s not just for you,” Bobby said dryly, then he hesitated. “...My niece might be swingin’ by later.”

Dean raised his brows in curiosity. “Didn’t know you had a niece.”

Or any family, for that matter. He knew the old man had a wife, once upon a time, but he assumed she’d passed away. No kids. Bobby had never talked about having an extended family. He didn’t have pictures on the walls, and the shelves only had books and locked boxes.

Bobby took a long sip of his beer after opening a bottle each for himself and Dean. He had one ready on the counter for Sam, who came into the kitchen looking tired. The kid hadn’t been sleeping well for the past few weeks, to say the least. Dean handed him the beer.

“I don’t see her much,” Bobby conceded.

“Why’s that?” Dean asked.

It took a moment for the other man to answer. Eventually, he was honest. “Well, she's grown. Going to school, got a job. But you could say I had a fallin’ out with her dad, a while back.”

“You have a brother?” Sam said.

“Brother-in-law,” Bobby corrected. He didn’t say anything more about it though. Sam and Dean shared a look that said they agreed: There’s something off there, but I’m not gonna pry.

“You still see her though?” Dean asked.

“Every now and then,” Bobby said, sipping at his beer again. “It’s a small town.”

That kind of pissed Dean off. Bobby was a good guy. He’d watched Sam and Dean a lot when they were kids, their dad on a hunt. He’d made sure they had decent food to eat, good movies to watch, and even played catch with Dean a time or two.

So what kind of assholes did Bobby have for family, that they couldn’t be bothered to check in on the old man every now and then? They must’ve been off living their lives, in their own little world. Must be nice.

Dean brought the bottle of Heineken to his lips, only to realize it was empty. Couldn’t have that, could we?

He went to the fridge and opened the cap, only to jump as the beer fizzed and leaked over his hands.

Damn it!

Bobby sighed. “And I just mopped the damn floor.”

“All right, Martha Stewart. Keep your slippers on,” Dean teased. “Sam, get me a paper towel.”

Bobby tried to get by him to get the mop, but beer was still dripping down Dean’s arm.

“Would you move to the sink, already?”

Sam finally cracked a small grin as Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Jesus. You’d think Miss America was comin’ into town.”

Damn it.

You heard him again. And this time, you could hear his voice, so you knew the thought belonged to a him. The voice was pleasantly deep, and annoyed. You actually felt his irritation and were able to recognize that the emotion didn’t belong to you.

Excitement bubbled in your throat, almost making it hard to breathe as you drove your car down the road. You had been too worked up to go see your mom, and technically you were supposed to head to your Uncle Bobby’s house, but this was too important.

You needed to figure out how to talk to him—your soulmate.

So you pulled over on the side of the road, and even turned the radio off. Okay, now what?

You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. They taught about this subject in school, sure, but that had been years ago! You’d spent the past six years filling your head with college and work and learning how to be an adult.

Okay, just breathe. You calmed down a bit with some deep breaths, and you closed your eyes. When you first heard your soulmate’s singing in your head, you remembered feeling warmth spread through your body, emanating from your chest. Then in your mind, you’d noticed a…a thread, of what could only be described as energy.

You felt it now. You could almost visualize it with your eyes closed. In your imagination, it was bright and beckoning. You focused on it, and it grew brighter, thrumming and soft.

You thought of what you wanted to say, and you tried it—sending your thoughts and your will through the connection.

Having a rough day?

Dean was still wiping beer off the floor in Bobby’s kitchen when he heard your voice ring through his mind.

Having a rough day?

His entire body tensed, and he paused with a ball of wet paper towel in his hand. Sam had taken the mop from Bobby and was about to finish off the floor, until he noticed Dean blanking.

“Dean?” he asked.

It shook Dean out of his shock, enough for him to look up at his brother. “Hmm?”

“What’s up? You were staring off into space.”

Dean feigned innocence. “Nothing.”

Sam’s brow rose, but he didn’t press the issue and went back to mopping. Dean took the opportunity to toss the wet paper towel in the garbage.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” he said, and made his swift exit to the bathroom upstairs, so quickly that he didn’t see Bobby watching Dean curiously from the living room.

“Don’t use up all the hot water!” Sam called after him.

Once again, Dean found himself locking the bathroom door and staring at himself in the mirror. His green eyes were conflicted as he tried to calm down. Maybe his heart was starting to beat a tick faster. Maybe a trickle of nervous sweat was making its way down his spine. Maybe he didn’t know what the hell to do.

His dad’s warning was still clear as a bell in his mind.

“Unless you’re prepared to hang up your gun, and stop hunting, don’t open that door.”

Dean knew why John had said it, and even agreed with him…at least, logically he did. His life was complicated, and insane, and bloody. How could he put someone else through what he went through? What he still went through every day? It wasn’t right.

But his chest was aching. He rubbed at it absently.

He could feel your worry again, he realized. You were anxious, probably waiting for him to respond. Dean could feel you. Having a rough day? you’d asked him.

So as usual, he made an impulsive choice.

You could say that, he carefully replied. He remembered the way your voice sounded, smooth and pleasant in his mind, and he couldn’t help smiling a little. But not for long, I’m thinkin’.

Your relief hit him in a slow, but powerful wave. It almost made him feel guilty for taking so long to answer.

Well, it’s not every day you hear someone else in your head. Maybe you’re going crazy.

She was teasing him. You were teasing him.

It brought an incredulous smile to Dean’s face. You’re one to talk. Maybe you’re just talkin’ to yourself right now.

Hmm. I don’t usually warble to Bon Jovi, but maybe you’re right.  

A beat of surprise, another to remember what he and Sam had been listening to in the car earlier, and then embarrassment prickled at the back of his neck.

You heard that, huh? he asked wryly.

Maybe, you giggled. It was a cute sound, and it cut through some of his embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being put back a step by women. He was good at reading people’s body language, and usually it didn’t take him more than one look to figure out what a woman thought about him, and what they wanted to do with him.

So the fact that he couldn’t see you was a challenge. With that realization, a slow smile spread across his face. He was game for a challenge.

Well, I’m likin’ your voice so far, he said. Think I could get you to sing for me?

He felt you pause, a flutter of warmth through a tendril of shyness. I’ll leave the performing to you, Romeo.   

Come on, it’s only fair.

Who said life is fair?

Dean sobered a bit at that. Ain’t that the truth.

Hmm, so you were having a rough day.

Make it a week, he said.

Yeah, I know the feeling…I wasn’t having a good day today either.

Dean sensed your melancholy and didn’t like the feeling. Well, now you’re talkin’ to me. So it should be smooth sailin’ from now on.

He could feel you brighten at that. It made warmth bloom once again inside his chest, especially because he sensed you were smiling—a bit shy, but genuine.  

…What’s your name? he asked.

It took you a beat, but eventually you gave him your name. It wasn’t what he expected, but he liked it. Your name rolled through his thoughts, and he tested on his tongue.

What’s yours? you asked predictably. Somehow, Dean didn’t anticipate the follow-up.

Suddenly he realized exactly what he was doing: he was talking to you. (Something he’d told himself he wasn’t going to do.) Not to mention, he’d been locked in the bathroom for about ten minutes and hadn’t even showered yet. Pretty soon either Sam or Bobby was going to come knocking to see what the hell he was doing, so he might as well shower for real.

He answered you as he turned on the showerhead and started undressing. I’ll make a deal with you…if you can guess what I do for a living, I’ll come by and introduce myself in person.

Dean felt your shock, so he let you think as he stepped into the shower. Eventually you came back, annoyance coloring your emotions and your voice.

That’s stupid.

Dean smiled. Aw, come on. It’ll be fun.

For you!

Don’t you know, sometimes the best things in life come after some delayed gratification.

You paused for a moment, in which Dean didn’t know if you were in shock again, or just pissed. Maybe a combination of both.

Great, I got a comedian, you deadpanned. …You’re not a comedian, are you?

Sweetheart, I’m hilarious, Dean replied. But no. Good guess, though.

He sensed the equivalent of you rolling your eyes.

Just then, Sam knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hey, you better not use up all the hot water!”

“Twenty minutes of peace, Sammy. That’s all I ask,” Dean shot back. Sam made a sound of annoyance, but he went away, leaving Dean almost alone with his thoughts.

Look, I gotta go, he said regretfully. But I expect you to have some guesses cooked up by the time I get back from work.

You were still annoyed, but you begrudgingly agreed to his terms.

Fine. Just…don’t wander too far off. I can’t win the game if I can’t hear you.

Dean sensed your underlying worry, and your fear. You were afraid he was going to leave.

His heart softened. As a result, he ended up promising things he didn’t know if he meant.

Don’t worry. I’m not leaving town until you win, he said.

He felt your warm smile, along with your excitement.

Goodnight, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.

Okay…goodnight.

He hung onto the feeling of your presence for a few seconds longer, before he let go of the connection. For now.

Dean caught himself smiling, but it quickly turned to a frown.

“Nobody should be waiting on men like us to come home bloody.”

When he once again remembered his dad’s warnings, that new warmth in his heart chilled, and it sunk like a stone. He leaned against the cool bathroom wall and pressed his forehead against the tile, while lukewarm water beat the side of his face and body.

Shit.

AN: Oh, Dean. What're we gonna do with you? lol

I hope you enjoyed Part 3! I promise they'll finally meet soon lol. What did you think of their first conversation?

To keep reading: Part 4

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x female!reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #john winchester #spn #spn fics #spn fanfic #zepskies #zepskies writes #soulmate au #soulmates #spn season 1 #reference to ​S1E09 - Home #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x soulmate!reader

[dorkylilguy]

doting blue collar husband with his adorable male wife 💚💙

#supernatural #spn #spn fanart #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #deancas #spnfandom #castiel fanart #destiel fanart #my hands look like this so his can look like that #he loves him #mechanic!dean #housewife!cas #soulmates

[watching-sam-and-dean-again]

Sam & Dean are, in fact, soulmates

It’s rant time again! (Sorry)

I saw an idiotic interesting take on Twitter last night where someone claimed that Sam and Dean aren’t soulmates, and that they couldn’t understand how anyone could interpret it that way (particularly referring to "Dark Side of the Moon"). And they actually wondered what show soulmate-truthers (my term) were watching.

Umm, the actual show?

I’ve paraphrased the comment slightly and replies slightly, and I’m not posting a pic of the actual post, because I’m going to try not do that on this blog, but also, this person is just like the others in the replies (and in fandom) who “interpret” the show a certain way because it suits their destiel narrative. They all drank the cool-aid, so why single one out? At the same time, this take shows so little media literacy that it pisses me off. Thus, the rant.

Please do read on if you’re interested.

One argument I saw under this tweet was that Dean needed to find a road to lead him to Sam, so it proves they weren’t in the same heaven.

Wrong.

If they weren’t in the same heaven, Dean wouldn’t have been able to find Sam. Period. We know this because Ash has to do a little spell thing in order for them to leave their heaven (“Winchester Land”) at all. They can’t just jump heavens on their own. We also see this in later seasons. People just don’t hop into each others’ heavens without some sort of help.

Another stupid argument I saw is that Sam and Dean can’t be soulmates because "they’re BROTHERS!”

Wrong Again!

While having a soulmate is often (maybe even most often) seen as a romantic trope, being soulmates is actually not inherently romantic. Let’s even just stay on the WB/CW level for this one for a minute. Dawson and Joey consider themselves soulmates in Dawson’s Creek, but they don’t make a good couple, they work better as friends, and they don’t end up together. While they aren’t entirely platonic, them being soulmates ultimately isn’t about romantic love either. Sorry, I stumbled onto a reactor watching this show lately, so it’s fresh in my mind. You could also make arguments for Xander and Willow, Joey and Phoebe, or Christina and Meredith (Grey’s Anatomy calls it “my person” being science-based, but it amounts to the same thing). Ultimately, being soulmates just means two people have an incredibly close bond, love each other dearly, understand each other on a deeper level than most, and often need each other. Despite what some hellers think, not all love and closeness is sexual or romantic. Finally, if someone sees being soulmates as having to be romantic, they should probably take it up with Kripke.

Anyway, let’s round this rant off at three flawed arguments with this one: people are “free” (passive aggressive) to interpret the episode how they “like,” but Sam and Dean bring soulmates is not actually supported by the episode.

Ugh!

Why the hell would the writers have Ash even mention soulmates in the scene at all, if it wasn’t to tell the audience (and the boys) something important about the characters? Knowing that soulmates share a heaven isn’t necessary to the plot at this moment (if they aren’t soulmates). We have been told people have individual heavens in most cases, so we don’t need to know the soulmate exception to generally understand how heaven works. But we do get this bit of exposition because 1) it tells us why Dean was able to find Sam on his own (with no spells, even though people don’t usually share a space), and 2) because it tells us the info that they are soulmates, bound together no matter what. It deepens their whole tangled up relationship, for better or worse. Is it a bit unusual for brothers to be soulmates? Yes! That’s the whole point. Sam and Dean are weird. This is not news. Where have these people been for the last 4.5 seasons??

Also, Ash looks directly at Sam and Dean after he drops the soulmate bomb. And each of them looks uncomfortable. The scene takes a beat here, a short one but it’s clear, so the audience can acknowledge this info. Why would the camera focus on the characters’ reactions if the soulmates line was a just a random little nugget of info? People hellers will write whole distractions on the significance of “parallels” between characters and “interpret” scenes using head-canons as support, but they can’t don’t want to understand that the camera lingering on the brothers when they learn information about themselves is significant? Also, it suggests in the script that Ash looks away from them to give them a minute to process this info. Why would he care if it didn’t pertain to them? (Hellers. Have. No. Media. Literacy.). Sam and Dean are soulmates. It’s canon.

Also, this is another episode but it adds confirmation. In 15x20, Dean feels Sam on the bridge in the new heaven before he sees or hears him. Thus. Soulmates!

#supernatural #sam and dean #spn meta #anti hellers #Sam and Dean are soulmates #my edits except for 1 #bad take rant

[aylacavebear]

Stockroom Antics Master List

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Each chapter will have warnings. Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27

More coming soon, when I have time to write. A/N: I honestly have no clue how long this one will be. I'll keep going through, till it does finally end. With the turns it's been taking, I'm not sure how it's going to turn out. :) I love these kinds of things.

Tag List: @djs8891

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#SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spnfandom #spn au #supernatural #soulmates #spn fic #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #supernatural fandom #supernatural oc #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural au #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic #dean winchester x oc #Dean Winchester x femaleOC #dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader

[lambmotifz]

“cas has literally looked at dean’s soul !!” yeah but cas isn’t the one dean shares his soul with…

#dean has only one true soulmate who really understands him & knows him better than he knows himself and it ain’t cas <3 #source? i watched the actual show and not the fanon version of it #anti destiel #samdean #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn