The Sam Winchester meme

♚ favorite outfits [season 8 ] [8/?]
↳ White Shirt
↳[Heartache 8.03]


Deanna rolled her eyes at Dean, finding him to be a drama queen. Another pie could be baked, it wasn’t like it was the last one on earth and it was store bought. "I’m even more likely to eat it if it has a dick drawn on it,” Deanna retorted, smirking at him. "Whatever, I’ll go on a pie run and get two so we can each have our own. Then if any disappears, we’ll know it was either Sammy or Cas,” she sighed.

"Uhm excuse me. Make that three. You owe me for my pie you ate. So there’s my original pie, then the pie you have to buy me to make up for eating mine." Really he was just looking for an excuse to make her get him two. There was a roll of his eyes at the mention of Cas or Sam. "Sam eats rabbit food and Cas thinks everything tastes like molecules. If it goes missing it’s because of you."


   Crowley felt his eyes narrow slightly upon hearing the engine of the classic car roar louder. He didn’t know whether the idiot beside him was trying to get them both killed in a wreck, even though that’s not possible but still. Or if the Winchester was absolutely high off of adrenaline that was flowing freely through his veins. Either way the King was tempted to tell, no command the other to slow the damn car. It wasn’t that Crowley was worried for his own safety it was the fact already Dean was being reckless. First it was words and now it had evolved into action. It could only possibly get worse from there and once again the King of Hell was finding he was right as usual.

   His eyes glanced at the rear-view mirror spotting the lights flash then back to that smug look the former Human wore. The Demon King bit down on his tongue, holding back the insults that wanted to fly. Even if Crowley wanted to lash out and put the other in place he couldn’t. Dean was Dean, he was his own man and all the suited male could do was push him in the right direction. Sadly that could be just as difficult. A sigh slip pass his barely parted lips as the vehicle came to a halt and the other step out. Crowley didn’t bother getting out he merely sat there listening to what was occurring. He knew the officer was a dead man the moment he decided to be a good little cop and stop the speed demon. Pun clearly not intended. Regardless the King didn’t care too much about it now but that didn’t mean he was going to brush off this ‘need’ of Dean’s. After all it will start with one body, one turns to two, two turns to five, five turns to fifty then so on.


   With that in mind the Demon finally stepped out of the impala making his way to the other side. He looked at Dean for a quick second before looking down at the body. Crowley nudge it with his foot then shook his head, “So what now Darling? Shall we reenact ‘weekend at Bernie’s’ or make a fun little spin-off.” The King wasn’t upset, perhaps a small bit but he understood what the other was going through. Not personally but he knew this was how Dean would be. He said it over and over many times already, Dean was a reckless individual and killing was in his blood. The Winchester was the chaos and the King was the order.

It felt so good to feel the bone snap that easily. The sound of it seemed to echo loudly in his ears and all he wanted was to feel that strength again. The vibration of the snap, the sound of it, the empty look in the man’s eyes as death greeted him. He let his hand drop to his side as he stared down at the body, his head cocked to the side curiously. Death had never made his curious before. It had always just been a part of life. It was just something that happened. Even when he had to play Death for a day, it had been hard to do. Now… all he could think about was leaving this kind of wreckage everywhere. It was bound to raise attention. It was likely to get his brother’s attention, but he didn’t care. It was only when Crowley appeared beside him that he jerked out of the sudden daze.


"Weekend at Bernie’s, huh? Could be rather interesting. How long you think we can keep it going until someone figures out he’s a dead cop?" As amusing as that idea was, despite it being Crowley being sarcastic, he wanted something a bit more destructive. He gave a light kick at the dead man’s foot before reaching down to get into his pocket to help himself to the man’s wallet. Credit cards and cash were taken. Demon or not, it could come in handy. He pulled his own out, ignoring the blood that had long dried on it from his fatal wound, and shoved everything into it before jerking open the Impala door. "We’ll just have to drive around and see. I don’t see you coming out with a list of demons to kill or the location of where Cain’s at. Might as well have a little fun while we’re doing this. Don’t you think?" Not that he was actually asking for Crowley’s opinion. The demon might have been the King of Hell, but Dean was something better. Something stronger. He was the new Cain. He was the real one to be scared of. At least that’s what was going through the new Demon’s mind.


Sam just stayed quiet as they walked outside. Even as the others tried to get their attention, Sam just stayed looking straight ahead. He could practically feel the tension coming off of Dean and he reached over to give his brother’s hand a quick squeeze and then let go. Walking to the edge of the yard that wasn’t very occupied, Sam stopped and looked at his older brother. “I think if that was possible we would’ve done it already.” He grinned a little, wishing that they could come up with something to get out of there. 

"So what’s the plan if we can’t get out of here?" He crossed his arms and tilted his head. "Don’t get me wrong, the three meals a day is nice but I prefer to make my own." He ran his hand through his hair and shifted on his feet. "Dean, I don’t even know where to begin here. It’s not like all the other times. We don’t have anyone to bail us out anymore." He looked away, biting his lip. Sam wasn’t afraid to admit that he was scared. But he knew how important it was to put on a brave face. Any sign of weakness and the other inmates would crowd around them like vultures. 

As reassuring as the hand squeeze was suppose to be, it only reminded Dean that he wasn’t alone there which was a bad thing. Looking out for himself wouldn’t be bad. He’d fight tooth and nail, but watching out for his little brother too? He was sure this wasn’t what their dad meant when he always told him to look out for Sammy. As they reached the fence, he stood there staring at it as if a door was going to suddenly appear. He was scared. No, he was terrified. He was worried he wasn’t going to be able to keep himself and Sam safe. Screw himself. He was worried that something bad was going to happen to his brother. It was part of why he purposely made himself a target. If everyone focused on him, then they’d leave Sam alone. That’s what he was convincing himself at least.

"We’ll be fine, Sammy." He said quietly. That was the only thing he could think of. If they couldn’t get out then… well…. they’d have to adjust until they did get out. Dean sighed as he turned to face the yard. Both hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as he glanced around the yard. There were people in groups. Some playing basketball, others grouping up together. There were a few looking in their direction, even pointing towards them. Dean straightened himself up as if it would help make him look intimidating. He even took a step forward to make sure he was in front of Sam. "If we can’t get Cas or someone else to pull us out, we’ll just have to summon a demon. Dad managed to do it in the hospital. I’m sure we can do it here."



"Oh, but baby, I don’t kiss and tell…not for free
at least. Make it worth my while and I’ll tell you
all the juicy details,” A cigarette is brought to her
lips before being tossed into the ashtray, slender
fingers tiptoeing up his chest, “Maybe I’ll even
reenact it for you.”


"Just uh… name your price and I’m sure I can pay it." Dean
was already pulling out his wallet. Thank god he had managed
to earn some extra cash lately. It was probably pointless to
spend money on something like this, but damn if he wasn’t
interested. Especially at the offer to reenact it. Was this chick
a hooker? He wasn’t sure and he wasn’t about to complain.
"C’mon, pretty please with sugar on top. Gimme a lil taste of
what you two did.”



"Don’t you have something better to do?" Clint moved over to start brewing some coffee and make some breakfast. "Or is being an asshole your full time job now?"


"Would you rather me go out killing people? Cause that’s a lot of fun." Dean didn’t bother hiding what he enjoyed doing from Clint. The guy needed to realize exactly what he was hanging around with. "Full time asshole pays pretty well ya know."



❝ Stop being so 
    t   e   s   t   y
    I was only kidding. ❞

Jo rushed after him and hugged him from behind, peeking over at him.


   ”Ew. Stop touching me.”
Not that he really minded. It didn’t stop him
from wiggling away from her grasp.



Oh she was entirely aware that she was walking on exceedingly thin ice, however she also knew that she would be succeeding in her goal. How long it took was entirely dependent upon how hard this human was willing to fight to come back to the surface. It could prove to take a little longer considering just how adamant this demon was to hold on.

"Dear, you’re not getting out of this trap. The human will be, but not you.” The Guardian was cocky, but that was in her nature. Slowly another set of shadows began to move, entering the devil’s trap and making their way up the chair. They splayed across his skin, morphing in symbols so old that very few beings could ever recognize them. “Just a fair warning: this is going to burn.”


Was he suppose to be scared? Was that what all of this was about? It was almost humorous if it wasn’t for the irritation the demon was already feeling. His lips curled into a wicked grin. Black beetle eyes stared at her, practically challenging her to hurry up and do whatever it was she had planned. Dean wasn’t sure what she was. He didn’t really care. The only thing he could think about was how much he was going to enjoy filleting her skin off. A dark laugh tore out of his throat. Enough so that his head fell back with it. When he stopped, he stared at her once more, not minding as the shadows shifted onto him. “That human part you keep talking about is d e a d

Finally he broke away from looking at her to look at the shadows shifting on his skin. The threat that it was going to burn was just as funny as the idea of bringing back his humanity. “I spent time in hell with the best torturer there was. I’m doubtful that a little.. burning is going to get under my skin.” To prove a point, Dean leaned back into the chair to let himself get comfortable. “You better hope I don’t get out of this, though. You just moved to the top of my shit list.”


Sam was trying here but it felt like every attempt just pulled him deeper and deeper into no mans land. He was fighting the urges and wasn’t that enough? He wasn’t being condescending or overly touchy, he was trying to help and still he gets the cold shoulder- the ‘I don’t want a mate’ speech. “Yeah, Dean, I know you don’t want a mate. Jesus H you don’t have to keep saying it” because every time Dean did it hurt just a little more. Sam wanted something more, so sue him. 

The man had Sam focused right back on what he was here to do. Prior to that he had been focused on the basics. Protection. Food. Water. Comfort for Dean- because even if his brother said they weren’t mated that’s exactly how his body was treating the situation. Like they were together. Like Sam finally found someone that wouldn’t leave. His jaw clenched at the thought. He breathes through it. What good would it be to be upset? In any case, his body responds to that sound as if it were an alarm bell. The knot that had been diminishing- stopped. It didn’t swell up again, no no, just didn’t let out any more. "Dean" he groans "You ever wanna get unstuck I’m gonna need you to keep those sounds to yourself." 

The joke doesn’t have him laughing but the idea of pizza has him looking around the room for where he left his phone. It’s in his pants and his pants are lying on the floor at the end of the bed. It wasn’t an especially long distance but it would take some maneuvering to get there. Taking a deep breath he maneuvers himself a bit to the right and pulls Dean along with him. It would take two tries of this until they were at the edge of the bed and Dean could reach down and get the phone. The knot snags and pulls and Sam inadvertently thrusts as he’s trying to get them from point A to point B but he doesn’t think anything of it. 

Dean smelled good and Sam is reminded very quickly about how close they are. He inhales. Rubs his cheeks against Dean’s shoulder. The urge to claim, to mate, to mark is so extreme that he has to back as far away as his knot will allow. Dean didn’t want that- remember? Didn’t want any of it. He frowns, glad Dean can’t see his face and (assuming his brother gives him the phone) dials Pizza hut to order out. 

It was tempting to say it again, but he didn’t. Sam wanted something more, but he had to understand that Dean didn’t. Or maybe Dean was just trying to convince himself that he didn’t want something more. That he didn’t want what other omegas had. He wanted to be independant so badly. He wanted to not have these ridiculous urges and be able to focus on what he was good at. Being a dad? Having a family? Having a mate? He knew that wasn’t something he’d be good at. Besides, his family didn’t seem to have the best track record for that kind of thing. Their mom had burned alive on the ceiling of Sam’s nursery. Jess might not have been Sam’s mate, but she still died the same way. Who was to say whoever Dean decided was that one wouldn’t happen too? Winchesters were just meant to be alone. He was accepting that reality.

As if this was all his fault again. “Well if you’d stop moving then maybe I’d be able to stop. You’re knot isn’t helping the freakin’ pressure.” It was Sam moving that was causing it. Each time he would shift, Dean couldn’t help it. He moves with Sam, trying to reach for the phone and ignore the way Sam’s knot would tug and press into him. It was impossible when Sam does actually thrust into him. His back arched, a full moan pulling out of him and the thought of the cell phone seemed to vanish completely. So much for having time to recover. If this was how it was going to be, he was dreading the rest of the week already. They weren’t even unstuck and Dean was already pressing into the next rush of his heat setting in.

He eventually managed to get the phone and practically tossed it to Sam as he collapsed back into the mattress. He didn’t care what Sam did at that point. All he could think about was the rush of blood to his groin that had his cock rising and his head feeling light. He didn’t even think twice when he reached down to palm himself, hoping it would some how relieve the pressure. He knew better, he really did. He knew it would only make it worse, but he couldn’t help it. Dean just wanted some peace that would last longer than a few minutes.


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