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#Never Say Goodbye
zepskies · 1 month
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The Old-Fashioned Way
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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
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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. 
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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.
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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. 
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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. 
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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.
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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. 😉
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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
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bornforastorm · 4 months
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do u have any fave holiday / ny / wintery / decembery movies 👀
Boy do I!!
I bet you've seen plenty of these, but here are the first ones that immediately leapt to my mind, in chronological order:
REMEMBER THE NIGHT (1939) - thee wintery holiday movie for me. unsung masterpiece, extremely sexy.
MEET JOHN DOE (1941) - holidays but make it miserable and moral. sometimes the holiday season is about being glum! Also I love to see young Gary Cooper's big sad eyes in the snow.
(^^both of those are currently streaming on the criterion channel!!)
NEVER SAY GOODBYE (1946) - I think Errol Flynn should be on any winter/holiday list. He's pure cozy to me, and especially in his comedic mode. This is a Christmas comedy of remarriage! A big marine picks him up under the arms and carries him around!!
BELL BOOK AND CANDLE (1958) - wintery and whimsical! And features gay witch Jack Lemmon so what more could you want (there should also always be one Jack Lemmon movie on every holiday list and while The Apartment is the obvious one, it's never been quite what I want in winter)
DOCTOR ZHIVAGO (1965) - a pure Snow movie. ideal to put on while you decorate and then spend ten minutes here and there getting lost in Omar Sharif's eyes.
METROPOLITAN (1990) - Whit Stilman is New York and Metropolitan is his New York Winter Holiday movie. Charming, witty, delightful.
THE MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL (1992) - an obvious one but the best. Career best Michael Caine, career best Muppets. I wonder-- too much Gonzo for your taste??
INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS (2013) - one of my favorite movies of all time, so sad so cold, maybe more of an early February movie than a December movie, but good winter, good new york, good music.
CRIMSON PEAK (2015) - it's giving winter 🤌 it's giving blood on the snow 🤌 it's giving ghosts 🤌 it's giving Gothic 🤌
THE GOLDFINCH (2019) - I am the sicko who really likes the movie of The Goldfinch. But here's the deal...... it's wintery. It's cozy. the vibes are immaculate (to me). Ends on Christmas in Amsterdam and that feels great!!
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jeshoo-pon · 1 year
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Thank you for the best 4 months of constantly waiting for an upload, thank you for giving me such a good story to wake up to ily buddy daddies
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yaomeis · 10 months
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GRAPH 2023 January — Cosmos Troupe Special Photo Selection, scanned by me ♡
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errolflynnfans · 5 days
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Errol Flynn as Phil Gayley
Eleanor Parker as Ellen Gayley
Never Say Goodbye (1946)
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kayamark · 11 months
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Never say goodbye (2021)
Ep 35
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wet-paws · 3 days
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I Hate Goodbyes.
The very word has been ingrained as a tell all to being left for good. Tone alone giving the expectation of return at youth, only to find it to be a kindness before harshness. To being alone.
I've taken careful measure to realistically only give and accept "See you soon/later" as replacement, in effect to take some of the edge off abandonment issues, even of some I haven't known for too long.
It doesn't take it all away, but it does make it more digestible., In kind to this, I'll either walk someone all the way to their car and go back in or I won't watch them walk out the door.
I don't really share much about me anymore., I don't know if it's out of a perceived lack of interest from any audience or just live that quietly, but I thought since the pictures went off so well (thank you all again, for that♡) that I would go the length of detailing the woman a bit.
I'm gonna TRY to do a weekly? Randomly? Routinely? Posting of a FunFact about me. Some, like this one, won't be as "fun",. But you're learning about someone who is teaching by no obligation about themselves. I feel this may be a healthy outlet for me in this way, by sharing,. Being communal.. maybe making more friends along the way, of those who don't mind, as they matter most as the saying goes.~♡
Thanks again, all. This has been a PSA.
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rastronomicals · 2 months
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4:38 PM EST January 25, 2024:
My Bloody Valentine - "Never Say Goodbye" From the portmanteau album Ecstasy and Wine (February 1989)
Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm
File under: Before they got really big
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flynnfan-downunder · 1 year
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Errol Flynn & Eleanor Parker on the set of "Never Say Goodbye" 1946
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lovingthereign25 · 2 years
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Never Say Goodbye
*3 weeks later* 
Co-parenting with Derek was going great! He sees Noah often as he can, he wasn't gone as long on cases as much, and was in the process of buying a two bedroom house here in Florida to be close to Noah. 
Things with Joe were great too! We were ready to start telling people about us, especially our families. We planned dinner for each of our  families first, his parents were happy about it, they understood that Joe and I loved each other.
The next night my family Josh included that he missed dinner for Joe’s side. Noah was with Derek so it was just gonna be Joe and I and I could wait to finally get this off my chest and finally be a real couple with Joe.
Dinner was done, we all sat down, all of us having a good time so far.Half way through the meal i look at Joe he gives me a small nod 
“Can i have everyone’s attention, I have an announcement..correction We have an announcement’ i say looking at Joe as he stands up.
“Joe and I are officially back together, we wanted to tell you all in person and to hear it from us “ i say smiling 
“ Together?....like dating again?..” my mother asks
“yes “ i smile 
“ What about Derek, Y/N you two just filed for divorce two weeks ago? And you're already screwing your high school boyfriend?” she asks annoyed 
“ Mom, Derek and I have been over for a long time now it's just we didn't want to admit it” i explain
“So you make it work, fix it Y/n you just don't hop into bed with an old fling, nothing against you Joe i love you like a son but this is all craziness….what about Noah?’ she asks
‘’ Noah is fine. Derek has him as we speak and takes him as often as he can nothing Joe and i do is gonna get between that’ i say 
My mother left without another word. My father not far behind her apologizing to Joe and I before letting us know he is happy for us .
After a while it was just Lyndsey,Josh,Joe and I. Josh and Joe were out sitting on the porch while Lyndsey and I cleaned up.
“Mom will come around, she loves Joe and she knows how much you two loved each other back then i think deep down we all knew nothing changed’ she smiles
“Yea…but if she didn't take the news of us getting back together well.. How is she gonna take finding out that i'm pregnant’ i say
‘What?!” she shouts
“ shhh.. I haven't told Joe yet?’ i hushed her
“ What the hell Y/n…..Who’s baby is it?’ she ask
“Joe’s” I smile looking out the window at him.
*May 2018*
Joe and I welcomed our first child together on May 5 2018
20 days before his 33rd birthday. Ryanne Lyn Anoa’i . 
She was beautiful. Jojo loved her. Noah loved her. 
She was the perfect mix of Joe and I. We were over the moon.
We were all gathered at Joe’s parents house for a parry she was throwing for Joe’s birthday/ a welcome home party for Ryanne.
Everything was back to normal and i couldn't be happier or at least i thought 
“ Can i have everyone's attention..please Y/n can you come over here for a second ?’’ Joe asked
I hand Ryanne off to Josh, her godfather..as I make my way over to the porch where Joe was.
“Y/n, i met you when you were a freshmen, i think it took me all of 30 mins into our first date to fall in love with you and i’ve been in love with you since, You're the first thing i wanna see in the morning and the only one i wanna kiss goodnight. When I'm away from you on the road I physically hurt it's like I'm drowning until I get you back  into my arms. 
I never thought i could love someone this much or love you more than i already did but you bringing our daughter into this world making our family complete took my love for you to  a whole new level..so baby with that being said Will You Marry me?’ he asks
“Of course…yes!’ i sob 
By the end of summer Joe and I were married.
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hosannan · 1 year
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Never Say Goodbye { Sara & Nanna
'Never say goodbye because saying goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting.'
Resting in the palm of her hand was a brooch, masterfully crafted to signify the academy’s perennial commitment to its students. Nanna would have returned the ornament to a staff member, if not for the name and country engraved on its backing. Her eyes crinkled in joy at the mere sight of Sara’s name, and she wondered if her dear friend had realized just how long she had settled her roots here. She fondly pressed her thumb against the ridges of the “S,” thinking how far they’ve come since they had first met. Could either have them predicted that Sara would come this far? Deeply seeded in her heart, Nanna had always hoped for something like this for her—because it was in Sara’s nature to grow. She just needed a place to do it.
Having asked around, she managed to track down a proper roster from one of the staff members and, to her surprise, she had been informed that Sara had been placed in another house. Black Eagles, was it? In the infinite depths of her concern, she could only really consider one thing: was Sara doing alright on her own? Nanna wrung her wrist, in an attempt to assuage her own worries. Well, she knew that Sara always did go by the beat of her own drum. Perhaps she needn’t rely on Leif any longer—though the thought of what that would do to him was a little more drastic. Why hadn’t he told her about this?
Pacing through the Black Eagle dormitory grounds, then through the Mess Hall, she found herself lost in the sheer vastness of what the academy had to offer. And no Sara in sight. Blowing her bangs out of her face, Nanna supposed it would not hurt to check the well pruned gardens outside. The hedges were sharply cut and flowers were in bloom for the season, as she fondly grazed against the petals of a fresh scarlet rose. Nanna would have to take note of the landscaping… Thracia could use more gardens of such grand impressions. As she took a breather, Nanna spotted something that had her blink twice. That was her work, wasn’t it? A flicker of a well-loved shawl stood out from behind a square-cut rose hedge and Nanna remembered exactly how hard she had toiled over its embroidery before Sara had left for Garreg Mach.
“Sara! Oh, dearest Sara, I’ve found you…!”
Like quicksilver, she rushed to Sara’s side and embraced her warmly. “And I found your brooch, too! See?” She flashed the pretty accessory into Sara’s view, before resting her head atop Sara’s familiar soft, silvery curls. “Oh, how I’ve missed you…”
@shadoll
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zepskies · 10 months
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Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #3
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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] (18+)
AN: Aaand Part 3! I’ve so enjoyed this series. 
Word Count: 2,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, cavity-inducing fluff
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Bonus Track #3: To Be Loved
Sam and Eileen stayed with Bobby while Dean brought you home. 
Jack had been blowing up his phone all day, and Dean knew he’d have to have to fill in your dad eventually. But right now, all he could think about was taking care of you.
You were quiet the entire car ride home. Your thoughts were a mess, and Dean could only glean so much. But he accompanied you into the bathroom while you showered, just to make sure you were all right. 
After you were dressed in soft pajamas, you finally spoke. 
“We should call my dad, let him know what…what happened,” you said. You tried to find your cell phone. You looked all over the apartment, but frowned when you realized you had no idea where your purse was. 
Dean approached and calmed your shaking hands, grounding you with his firm, but gentle touch. 
“Hey, take a breath, okay?” He guided you to sit down on the couch in the living room. 
“I remember…being at work,” you said with difficulty. “I touched that damn book.”
Dean nodded grimly. “It’s burnt to a crisp.”
You sighed. “What the hell am I going to tell Jerry?”
“I told him you were mugged, and the book got stolen in the process,” he said. 
You raised a brow. 
“And he bought that?” you asked incredulously. 
“He seemed to,” Dean said. “You might have to smooth things over, but for now, you can just chill here at home, okay? You don’t have to go anywhere, talk to anyone, until you’re up to it.”
He settled you on the couch with your favorite throw blanket. 
“You hungry?” he asked. “I can make us something…or better yet, let’s order in. What do you feel like?”
You were too preoccupied to answer. Dean sighed and sat down beside you on the couch. He could tell that your mind was racing, but he couldn’t pinpoint more than a few stray thoughts. You bit your lip and looked up at him with tears in your eyes. 
“She killed all those people…using me,” you choked out. “And I can’t even remember most of it…”
“We destroyed the tapes,” Dean said. Though he knew that wasn’t what you were getting at. “There’s an active investigation, but she mainly used magic. If there’s any fingerprints, your dad will take care of it.”
You gripped your head with both hands in dismay. 
“He shouldn’t have to break the law for me. This is insane…”
Dean scooted over so he could hold you, rubbing your back while you dissolved into tears. It all but broke his heart. 
Deciding you might be more comfortable in bed, he picked you up bridal style. You continued to keep your face covered as he carried you to bed. 
Dean then settled in himself, but you surprised him a bit by turning to him. You moved over to his side of the bed and buried your face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around you, shushing you gently and soothing a warm hand up and down your back.
I can’t stand it, Dean, you whispered in his mind through the bond. So many people died because of me, in a single day.
It’s not your fault, he replied. Someone would’ve touched the book eventually. 
You just don’t know that. 
“What I know is you’re alive. And I'm damn grateful,” Dean said out loud, soft in your ear.
You sucked in a breath at that. You pulled away, just enough to see his face. Despite the tears clinging to your lashes, making your eyes red and puffy, you still looked beautiful to him. 
Because he recognized you—the size and strength of your heart. You were crying for people you hadn’t known, over something you had no control over, and had only vague memories of. But he knew you still felt responsible for their deaths, just as Dean would have, if he were in your shoes.   
“I’m grateful for you,” you replied, sniffling and stroking his cheek. “I’m so sorry for all this.”
Dean shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips. 
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The next day, Dean woke you with a kiss above your brow. 
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said. He sat down the edge of the bed, already dressed in his usual jeans, undershirt and opened buttoned down ensemble. 
You smiled, until you spied the alarm clock on the nightstand and realized how late it was.
“I talked to Jerry, called you out of work on official police business,” he said, guessing at your thoughts. “Need your help tracking down the ‘mugger.’”
You gave a soft huff at that. “I don’t think that coverup is going to stick.”
Dean’s shrug was deceptive; he had already broken things down with Jack this morning, in painstaking detail, so that the murders of ten people likely wouldn’t be traced back to you. Jerry was, quite frankly, the least of his worries.
“It’s gonna be fine. I’ve got it all worked out,” he told you. “But are you hungry? Want some eggs, pancakes, bacon, or all three? Breakfast of champions.”
He rubbed his palms together with a grin, one you tried to match, despite being sleepy. Really, you still felt like total crap. But you appreciated the way he was trying to lift your spirits. 
“Whatever you want, baby,” you said, grabbing his hand, the one that held his mother’s ring. He looked down at you with a softer smile. He brought your hand up to his lips. 
“All right, beautiful. Breakfast of champions it is,” he said. You were able to smile a bit more as you watched him leave the bedroom.
Getting up was a monumental effort, but you made yourself do it, or you knew you would spend the entire day lying in bed and feeling sorry for yourself. 
Your guilt was still eating at you. You knew you could only try to move forward, like Sam and Dean used to have to do after a rough hunt. You tried to focus on one task, and the next, until you were dressed, freshened up, and sitting down across from Dean in the dining room, eating breakfast. 
But he picked up on the predictable course of your thoughts, most of them following the path of self-loathing. He took your hand across the table, which prompted you to look up at him from your eggs.
“You didn’t know the book was cursed,” he said. “Just because I’m retired from hunting, doesn’t mean this shit isn’t still out there.”
A fact that elicited his own guilt. 
That he got to have his normal life while other hunters scraped and struggled and died. You sensed his thoughts, and it broke you out of your own inner world. You squeezed his hand, feeling tears well up in your eyes. 
“You’ve earned this, Dean,” you said. “You’re finally living your life for you.”
He considered your hand in his. “That doesn’t make me selfish?”
“You deserve to be happy…even if I’ve been making that part difficult.” You wiped away the first couple of tears that broke down your cheeks when you remembered how angry you had been at him a few days ago. How selfish. “The fight we had, before all this started…”
Dean leaned over and brushed a lock of hair away from your eyes, along with a stray tear from your cheek. 
“Listen, whatever we were arguing about, it’s petty shit. Let’s just move on, okay?”
“It’s not petty,” you replied with a sniff. “You were right…about Jason. I shouldn’t have been out all night at his place.”
Dean was uncomfortably silent then, even though a part of him felt vindicated, deep down. It did also feel stupid now. 
“Look, I trust you,” he said.
“I know. But it’s still not fair to you,” you said with a sigh. “I know between my job, the wedding planning, and everything else, it doesn’t feel like we’ve actually been together for the past few months. I don’t want us to feel like that before, or after we get married.”
Dean folded his hands on the table. “Okay. So what do we do?”
You raised a brow at him. A teasing smile worked its way onto your face. 
“You’re letting me call the shots?” you asked. 
Dean noted that smile, spying a glimpse of your old self.
“Well, you generally do what you want anyway. So I figured I’d just tag along,” he remarked.
You pushed at his chest. “You’re not getting off that easily.” 
He grabbed that hand and held it. And he kissed the inside of your palm, then down your wrist. It was tender, languid, and sweet. Until the heat in his eyes made you blush, earning a smile from you.
“Come ‘ere,” he said. 
He tugged you over by your hand, and you got up, willingly being guided into his lap. Your free hand delved into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He gave a pleased hum and tugged you down into a kiss. The heat of it made your toes curl as his hands molded to the curve of your ass. 
You held his face, pressing lingering kisses against his lips, along his jawline, down his neck…
Desire coursed through both of you, echoing through the soul bond in perfect symmetry. 
“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. 
Dean grinned against your neck. He slid an arm beneath your legs and around your back, and lifted you into the air, eliciting a squeal from you as he made a quick path to the bedroom.
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Three weeks later…
“Hun, you need to calm down,” Jo told you. She was stifling her laughter as she fixed the lay of your wedding gown. 
It was ten more minutes of waiting.
Ten more minutes, and you wouldn’t have your last name anymore. You would be a Winchester. 
Sweet Jesus, you were about to be an honest-to-God wife.  
“I need ice,” you said, trying to air out your underarms. “Someone blot me. I’m sweating like a whore in church.”
Jo resisted the urge to remind you that you were in a church. Or at least, in the women’s dressing room.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Eileen said in amusement. You made sure to turn to her when you replied, so she could read your lips. 
“I feel bloated.” You grimaced, rubbing your chest as if that would quell your sudden anxiety. Or was it Dean’s? You couldn’t tell anymore. 
“Or possibly heartburn. Maybe the breakfast burrito wasn’t a good idea.”
“What’s to be nervous about? He faced down a literal goddess for you,” Eileen replied with a smile. You gave a wry smile, even if that was a somewhat painful reminder. 
“I know. And no matter the words, it’s just not enough to describe how much I love him. But it’s just…” you took in a deep breath. “What if I’m stopping him from being who he’s supposed to be, you know?”
Both women had to know what you meant. They were still hunters. Eileen and Jo shared a glance, but it was Eileen who touched your hand. 
“When I met Sam, I thought I had my life figured out. I was on my way out of New York. I never meant to stay, let alone for six months,” she said. 
And you knew this story, but it still warmed your heart to hear it again. 
“We’re still figuring it out,” Eileen admitted. “But I see you and Dean, and it gives me hope. It makes me think I can still be myself without hunting…maybe even a better version.”
You teared up, like the emotional wreck you were, but Eileen and Jo immediately went to blot it away from your mascara. 
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You didn’t know that Dean was having a similar meltdown.
“Dude, quit fidgeting. You’re gonna be fine,” Sam said in amusement. He was fixing Dean’s cuffs, then the burgundy carnation pinned to his breast pocket.
“I don’t know if this monkey suit is fitting right,” Dean groused.
“It is,” Sam informed him. 
“Does it really need to be a flower,” Dean gestured at the pocket Sam was adjusting, along with the satin pocket square. 
“It does,” Sam once again informed him.
“I don’t know why. It’s not a fucking prom,” Dean muttered. 
Sam resisted the urge to laugh at his brother’s evident nervousness. “All right, just calm down.”
A knock sounded at the door to the men’s dressing room. In came Jack, popping his head in and asking if it was a good time.
“Perfect time,” Sam said, straightening his brother’s tie. “I’m going to check in with the ladies, see if they’re ready.”
Dean nodded, though his anxiousness grew to see him leave. Still, he welcomed Jack in to take a seat across from him on a wooden stool. Jack obliged, but first, he pulled out a flask from the inner pocket of his blazer. 
Dean raised a brow. “Whiskey?”
“You gotta ask?” Jack said. Dean grinned and took the flask, and then a sip. 
“The day I married my wife, I was much like you. Shittin’ my pants,” Jack said with a wry chuckle. Dean looked down, both embarrassed and amused.
“For me it was questions. So many questions,” Jack continued. “The world’s telling me this is it. This is the girl. But what does that mean…practically?”
Dean could relate to that. 
“You know what I found out?” Jack asked.
Dean looked up at him. “What?”
“The bond…it matters, but it doesn’t always make things easier either,” Jack said. “It just gives you a reason to be honest. To have someone you can be fully yourself with, no matter the repercussions. Someone who can be your true support system.”
“That sounds about right,” Dean said after a moment. Jack leaned across the divide to pat his shoulder. 
“After her mother died, I worried about my daughter every day,” he said, with some deeper emotion shining through his eyes. “I didn’t realize that she came up strong, stubborn, with her own ideas about the world and what she wanted from it.”
Dean nodded. That definitely sounded like you.
“We didn’t have the best start, you and I. But I see how you look after my girl. How you support each other,” he said. “I’m proud of you, son. Proud to call you that too.”
Dean’s throat constricted with unexpected emotion. On days like today, he really wished his dad could’ve lived to see this. 
But Dean was grateful to shake his father-in-law’s hand.
“Thank you, sir.”
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Dean stood alone at the altar inside the church sanctuary. But he wouldn’t be alone for long.
Five minutes.
His gaze roamed, finding Bobby and Ellen in the first row. The latter was already teared up, smiling with almost motherly pride. Even Bobby shot him a wink and a smile. 
Dean smiled back at them and took in a steadying breath. There was Jody Mills and her husband, some of your friends from work, and from school. There were other friends of his from the precinct. 
Then he noticed someone in the back—a lanky kid with shaggy brown hair and an attitude. Dean grinned when Jessie Deluca met him with a lazy salute.
He’d been dropping by the precinct lately. Dean had taken him out a few times for burgers and pizza and light conversation. 
You had even suggested that Bobby give him a part-time job after school, at the tow yard, and a safe place to stay when he needed it. So far, Jessie hadn’t taken Bobby up on that offer. Dean was working on it.  
But the fact that he’d accepted Dean’s offhand invitation to his wedding spoke volumes. He sent the kid a little salute back, along with his grin. 
And then the music started. A hush drew over the crowd, and even Jessie took a seat in one of the pews. The double doors opened in the back, and down the aisle came Sam and Eileen. She looked beautiful in her wine-red dress. Sam was tall and dapper in his light gray suit, contrasting Dean’s darker one. 
Jo was next, being escorted by one of your buddies from college, then your cousin Lily and her boyfriend. And finally, your father walked you down the aisle. 
Dean sucked in a subtle breath. He’d never seen the dress, of course, but it was beautiful. You were beautiful. 
The moment you reached out and took his hand, he could breathe again. 
And he knew then that he was ready…because this felt right. 
He later showed you the ring before he slipped it on your finger — engraved with an anti-possession star. You smiled up at him wryly. 
But then your smile became more genuine, more lovely. Your eyes shone bright with unshed tears. 
You held nothing back from the soul bond, and so Dean got a full picture of what it was to be loved. 
His eyes burned too. He hoped you were able to read his WiFi signals right back. Because just now, he wasn’t sure if his voice was going to cooperate with him.
The simple fact of it was, you were his girl. His person.
And that was something that couldn’t be broken.
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AN: I hope you enjoyed this more official epilogue to Never Say Goodbye! ❤️
It’s been so much fun to write this story. But let me know if there are any requests in this story-verse! I’d be happy to come back to it someday. 🥹
Keep Reading:
Ready for another bonus one-shot?
Read on: The Old-Fashioned Way You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution?
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myimaginaryradio · 9 months
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Keep The Faith - Bon Jovi - 1992
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Never Say Goodbye - Bon Jovi - 1986
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soupy-harry · 2 years
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NEVER SAY GOODBYE (1956)
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errolflynnfans · 9 days
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Errol Flynn as Phil Gayley
Never Say Goodbye (1946)
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thejovimysterytrain · 2 years
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