#samanddean

[wandering-winchesters]

Unspoken Feelings

Summary: What started as simple, comforting snuggles between friends gradually deepens into something more

It started as something simple, something innocent. Just a couple of friends seeking comfort in each other after a particularly rough hunt. You and Dean had always been close—there was an unspoken bond between you, forged through countless battles, late-night heart-to-hearts, and a mutual understanding of the life you both led.

The first time it happened, you didn’t think much of it. You were both sitting on the couch in the bunker’s library, exhausted and battered from the latest hunt. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving behind the aches and bruises, both physical and emotional. You’d been talking about nothing in particular, just letting the words fill the space, when you suddenly found yourself leaning against Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.

To your surprise, Dean didn’t pull away. Instead, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you a little closer, his hand resting comfortably on your arm. It was a simple, platonic gesture, one that felt natural, even necessary in that moment. The comfort of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing, it all made you feel safe, grounded.

“Rough night,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

Dean chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “You can say that again.”

You didn’t say anything else, and neither did he. The silence between you was comfortable, familiar. You stayed like that for a while, just leaning on each other, taking solace in the fact that, for the moment, you were both okay. It was just a quiet, comforting moment shared between two friends who had seen more than their fair share of darkness.

After that night, it became a sort of unspoken tradition. Whenever the world felt too heavy, whenever the hunts took too much out of you, you’d find yourself sitting next to Dean, letting your head rest on his shoulder, his arm draped casually around you. Sometimes you’d talk, sometimes you’d just sit in silence, but the snuggles became a constant—a small, quiet escape from the chaos of your lives.

Over time, those moments became more frequent. It wasn’t just after hunts anymore. Sometimes, you’d be watching a movie, and you’d find yourself leaning into him, or you’d be sitting at the kitchen table, and he’d rest his hand on your back, just a simple touch that made you feel connected, understood.

You didn’t think much of it at first. It was just Dean—Dean who always had your back, who always knew what you needed, even before you did. But as the weeks went by, you started to notice the little things. The way your heart would skip a beat when his hand brushed against yours, the way your breath would hitch when he pulled you closer during one of your late-night snuggles, the way you found yourself craving his touch more and more.

It was confusing, this shift in your feelings, but you didn’t let yourself dwell on it. After all, it was just Dean. Your friend, your hunting partner, the one person you could always count on. And yet, something had changed. The snuggles that had once been purely platonic were beginning to feel like something more, something deeper.

You started to notice that Dean was different too. He held you a little tighter, his hand lingering on your arm or your back a little longer than before. His touches were softer, more deliberate, like he was savoring the contact. There were moments when you’d catch him looking at you, his green eyes filled with something that made your heart race, but he’d always look away before you could figure out what it was.

One night, after a particularly stressful day, you found yourself in Dean’s room. You hadn’t planned on going there, but when you passed by his door and saw the light on, your feet had carried you inside before you could think twice about it.

Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, his shoulders slumped, clearly exhausted. He looked up when you walked in, a small, tired smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Can’t sleep either, huh?”

You shook your head, feeling a wave of warmth and affection for him wash over you. “No. Mind won’t shut off.”

Dean patted the space beside him, and you didn’t hesitate to sit down next to him, the familiar comfort of his presence already easing some of the tension in your chest.

Without a word, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close, and you rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. The quiet settled over you both, and for a while, you just sat there, letting the silence do the talking.

But tonight, something felt different. The way Dean’s hand was resting on your back, the way his thumb was gently tracing patterns on your skin—it felt more intimate, more intentional than it had before. Your heart started to race, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling it too, if he’d noticed the shift between you.

“Dean,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room.

“Yeah?” he replied, his voice just as soft, almost hesitant.

You hesitated, unsure of how to put what you were feeling into words. “Do you ever… do you ever think about us? About what this is?”

Dean was quiet for a moment, and you could feel his breath hitch slightly, like he was trying to figure out how to respond. Finally, he spoke, his voice low, almost vulnerable. “Yeah, I do. More than I probably should.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His expression was serious, his green eyes searching yours like he was looking for something, anything, to tell him what you were thinking.

“What if…” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “What if this is something more? What if it’s not just… comfort?”

Dean’s gaze softened, and he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “I think… I think maybe it’s always been something more,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “I just didn’t want to mess things up by saying it out loud.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt a rush of warmth spread through you at his words. All the little moments, the touches, the way he held you close—it all made sense now.

“So, what do we do now?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Dean’s thumb continued to stroke your cheek, his touch so tender it made your heart ache. “We figure it out,” he said softly. “Together. One step at a time. If… if that’s what you want.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch, your eyes never leaving his. “It is, Dean. It really is.”

A slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m all in, Y/N. I want this, with you.”

And with that, the distance between you disappeared. Dean’s lips met yours in a gentle, lingering kiss that was filled with all the emotions you’d both been holding back for so long. It was soft, tentative, but it spoke of promises and possibilities, of something real and deep and lasting.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your foreheads still resting together, the world outside fading away.

“So, I guess our snuggles aren’t so platonic anymore,” you teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

Dean chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your lips. “No, I guess not. But I’m okay with that.”

“Me too,” you whispered, your heart full as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close once more.

And as you settled back into his embrace, the line between friendship and something more blurred completely, leaving behind only the warmth of his arms around you, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, and the certainty that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

Taglist: @roseblue373 @jc-winchester @hobby27 @mishreem

[propertyofyoutube]

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT

I thought it was about time I made things a little easier for you all🥺

If you’re new to my blog, hi! Welcome to the safest place on the internet for you to relax and explore your deepest darkest desires😏

Disclaimer: please don’t steal my work, because I have a very particular set of skills and I’m not afraid to use them☺️

Current total works: 18

~🖤~

Colby Brock

I thought we were ghost hunting? - EXPLICIT

Couldn’t resist a bad boy - EXPLICIT

I want to tell the world - EXPLICIT

You’re this close to cracking - EXPLICIT

You really think I’d ever let anyone say anything bad about you? - EXPLICIT

Cooking and dancing - FLUFF

Sam Golbach

More than friends - EXPLICIT

You’re being bailed out by Sam - EXPLICIT

Fuck, I’ve missed you so much - EXPLICIT

Kidnapping Prank - EXPLICIT

Anything for you Mrs Golbach - EXPLICIT

Are you happy now? - EXPLICIT

A time of the month accident - FLUFF

Sam & Colby

Tap once for no, twice for yes - EXPLICIT

You could choose both - FLUFF

Let it go, baby - EXPLICIT

Wattpad Novels

Our Time Is Now || Sam, Colby and friends Fanfiction

The Winchesters || Sam, Dean and Castiel Fanfiction

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!

~🖤~

[wowsosad]

Forget about Sam and Dean sharing a queen bed in motels, imagine little Sam and Dean sharing a twin bed. Two heads on the same pillow, wrapped up tightly in their blanket, Dean cradling Sam close to make sure he doesn’t slip off the edge. 8 year old Dean and 4 year old Sammy, just barely too big to share. Sammy gets night-terrors, soaks the bed with his tears and sweat, and Dean cools him down, presses kisses to his damp forehead, then changes their clothes quickly and quietly. Dean lays an itchy motel towel down on the bed, sneaks back in to avoid waking Daddy up, and the two boys sleep, tangled together like a yarn ball on their teeny-weeny twin-sized bed. <3

[sam-dimples]

drawing the boys (kinda from memory) to get out of art block

hope that you'll enjoy them <3

[hatchet-boy]

I am a very big fan of how my feed positioned these posts.

*concerned Sam eyes* you want me to get your what out of WHAT-

[flamewillowspn]

[the-gray-ghosty]

[Au] A couple of years after they kill Chuck, Sam and Dean finally retire. They have spent hundreds [if you count hell years] of years fighting and dying and suffering for the world, and its about damn time they get some freedom. So they leave. Leave everything and everyone. They only ever needed each other. They send the bunker key to Garth, telling him to pass it on to the next hunters and to use it as a hunter safe haven. They send letters to Jody, Donna, and Garth about how they've gone off the grid, and will be gone for a while. (But how if they are needed for an emergancy, they'll be there. They left an emergency phone number just in case). But nobody needs to know where they or what they're doing, only that they're alive and they're together. They promise their friends that they'll send letters and pictures.

They decide to travel before settling down; driving around the world, just sight-seeing and living. Swimming in oceans, tanning in Mexico, getting drunken tattoos in Las Vegas, just them living for fun.

They delete all of their contacts (ie: get new phones) but they do send postcards, letters and printed pictures to Jody every couple of months. The letters are short but sweet, telling their friend about their adventures and how they're still alive. [More alive than they've ever been]. Along with the letters are postcards and printed out pictures. Pictures of them at the grand canyon. Pictures of them swimming with dolphins. Pictures of Sam holding a koala, a picture of Dean washing the impala. A picture of two wedding rings. A garden full of flowers. A new puppy sitting next to miracle. The pictures tell their friends of their newest adventures.

After a while they settle down in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, 25 minutes from the nearest house and 30 from the nearest town. And they love it. Surrounded by forest, (which is full of wards and traps and magic,) their little abode is just as safe as the Bunker, and they reside in it for many many long years. The people in the town nearby know them as "The Campbells", and that they are always together. Whether they're buying pie at the bakery or shopping for groceries, they're always together. Just like they were meant to be.

[thecatsaysmew]

i've been writing a supernatural fic for almost 2 years now, with an original plotline, some OCs, and lots of angst and action. it's my literal baby. today i was proofreading some chapters.

i present to you an excerpt that i think sums up sam and dean (context: dean's making bullets as a solution to something; anna is the main OC):

Dean looked up while lining up the shell casings. “Reed? He’s dead.”

“We could try to summon him. Have him talk to her.”

“Anna gave him a hunter’s funeral. Salted and burned his bones. He ain’t walking among us.”

“He could latch on to something in his house, and make an appearance,” Sam said, “There’s a lot of things in that penthouse. Something sentimental, maybe.”

Dean thought back to the vinyl he had found that one time he was hanging out with Anna in Manhattan. “Maybe. Wouldn’t put all our eggs in one basket, though.”

“A shot is a shot,” Sam said, tapping the table and getting up. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Dean resumed his work as his brother left, mulling over how a shot for Sam meant hope, and for him, it was a literal bullet.

[missjackil]

I'm deep in my Sam and Dean feels rn. Don't @ me

[adashofwincest]

i need to find a wincest romantic falling in love fic

please!! 😭

[wandering-winchesters]

A Cold Night's Warmth

Summary: On a freezing night after a hunt gone wrong, Dean Winchester quietly offers comfort

It was a cold night, the kind that cut right through your clothes and settled deep in your bones. You and Dean had been walking for what felt like hours, the dirt road stretching out before you under the pale glow of the moon. The hunt had gone sideways, leaving you stranded miles from the bunker with only the faint hope that you might come across a town—or at least a gas station—before the night was over.

The silence between you was comfortable, though. After everything you’d been through, just being alive and together was enough. Still, the chill in the air was relentless, and despite your best efforts to shrug it off, you found yourself shivering.

Dean noticed. He always noticed. He shot you a glance out of the corner of his eye, his brow furrowing in concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice rough from the cold.

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound more convincing than you felt. “Just a little cold.”

He didn’t respond right away, but you could see the wheels turning in his head. He was always looking out for you, always trying to find a way to make things better, even when the situation seemed hopeless.

Without a word, Dean shifted closer to you, his arm brushing against yours as you walked. The small gesture was enough to ease some of the chill, but it wasn’t until you felt his hand slip into yours that the warmth truly spread through you.

The moment his fingers wrapped around yours, your breath caught in your throat. It was such a simple, unexpected gesture, yet it felt like the most significant thing in the world. Dean Winchester didn’t do things like this—he wasn’t the hand-holding type. But here he was, holding your hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

For a few seconds, you just stared down at your joined hands, your heart racing. His hand was warm, strong, and it fit perfectly with yours, like it was meant to be there. When you finally dared to look up at him, you saw that he was staring straight ahead, his jaw set, as if he was trying to pretend that this was no big deal.

But you knew better. You knew how much it took for him to let his guard down, to allow himself even a moment of vulnerability. And the fact that he was doing this now, with you, meant more than words could express.

You squeezed his hand gently, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection between you. Dean’s grip tightened in response, just enough to let you know that he felt it too. There was a subtle shift in the air between you, something deeper, something that had been building for a long time but had never quite found its way to the surface.

The road ahead still stretched out endlessly, but it didn’t seem quite so daunting anymore. With Dean by your side, his hand in yours, you felt like you could face anything. The cold, the darkness, the uncertainty of the future—it all seemed a little less frightening with him there.

You walked in silence for a while longer, neither of you feeling the need to speak. The steady rhythm of your footsteps and the warmth of Dean’s hand in yours was enough. It was a quiet kind of comfort, the kind that didn’t need words or explanations. It just was.

Eventually, you came across a small diner, its neon sign flickering in the distance like a beacon of hope. Dean’s pace quickened slightly, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of hot coffee and a warm meal.

As you approached the diner, Dean finally glanced down at you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Looks like we found our pit stop,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“Yeah,” you agreed, returning his smile. “Guess we got lucky.”

Dean chuckled, a sound that warmed you almost as much as his hand in yours. “Yeah, maybe we did.”

You didn’t let go of his hand as you walked inside, and he didn’t seem in any hurry to pull away either. As you settled into a booth, the warmth of the diner surrounding you, Dean’s hand still rested on yours, a quiet reassurance that whatever came next, you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Taglist: @roseblue373 @jc-winchester @hobby27 @mishreem

[propertyofyoutube]

hey everyone! So along side my other book, I now have two new works released today! I will also be doing other one shot books, for Sam golbach and the winchesters and anyone else you would like to see! I will be taking requested for these books. So please check out my work and let me know if there is anything you would like for me to write! Thank you! ❤️

[wowsosad]

46 y/o Dean with 22 y/o Sam. Grrrrrrr

Adult Dean somehow being transported back in time, and realizing that he’s the one who needs to retrieve Sam from Stanford. Adult Dean startling the absolute shit out of Sam in his apartment with Jess, affirming that Sammy, there’s no time to explain, yes this doesn’t make sense but I promise I’m your Dean, you just gotta come with me. And finally saying the fated Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days. The words feel like ash in his mouth, and he knows what’ll happen to Jess soon, but he can’t stop staring at Sammy’s young, unmarred face. He’s entranced, and his gut boils knowing he can’t do anything about it yet. It’ll be another decade before Sam and Dean become SamandDean, but god he wants to know what Sammy felt like at this age.

Maybe ruining the timeline wouldn’t hurt much. After all, if he gets sent back forward after muddling it all up, he knows that young Dean wouldn’t complain—he’s been in love with Sammy since he was 16.

[sam-dimples]

i wanna practice my art skills if you have fanart requests don't be shy ask me!!! If i like your idea i'll draw it <3 (i can be slow because i have classes you know you know), i love Sam Winchester, the southern gothic aesthetic, religious imagery in disturbing settings and all things fucked up...

Your fanart ideas <3 :

Sam in the purple dog shirt

Sam in a church, dramatic mood (priest outfit) - WIP

Sam and Dean kissing

Wincest >:)

Sam with eyeliner

Shirtless Sam with big tits

[hatchet-boy]

Idea for an ep of supernatural:

Starts off with the sam and dean having tea with a suspect on a case. The usual repertoire of asking some 'totally innocuous' questions. The suspect/vic is an ex ballet dancer, many photos and posters of old ballet shows on the walls, point shoes displayed on the shelf. They ask about her past and she mentions that she starred in swan lake. We see them both take a sip of tea, the camera focused in on that.

They head back to the motel, sam says he's going out of for food. We see him buying takeout but as he goes to grab his order and say thank you, suddenly he his voice makes no sound. He heads back to the motel and we get a shot of sam in the doorway and dean across the room, both desperately trying to talk to each other with no sound, as if their voices were muted.

Splash cut to the Intro [SUPERNATURAL]

The first scene starts with a slow panning shot outside, with classical music accompanying it. It's from the score of Swan Lake.

From here on out, we will hear no voices, from sam or dean or any other character. The entirety of the rest of the episode will be set to music from Swan Lake (time constraints mean not the entire thing) as the brothers solve the case.

Throughout it, their actions and the plot etc etc are complimentary + in sync with the music, with camera shots focusing particularly on the movement of their bodies.

I'm picturing a lot of dramatic grabbing and reaching out.

Each scene is conveniently set at a time and place where they hear no other people speaking. (Still sound effects over the music however)

The fight scene is so epic and dramatic and obviously so are they.

It ends with drama and final decisive note once they've solved the case, and it finishes with one liners from them both.

(Jerk/bitch could be fun, or just their names to each other, there are many possibilities just so long as it's short and sweet)

[flamewillowspn]

Team Free Will - Soldier, Poet, King