I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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Cosmic Funnies
Cosimo Galluzzi
JBB: An Artblog!
titsay
Acquired Stardust
todays bird
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Not today Justin
Product Placement
RMH
pixel skylines
cherry valley forever
Jules of Nature
$LAYYYTER
styofa doing anything
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seen from United States
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@sofreddie
Mobile Masterlist
Welcome to my Masterlist! You’ll find relevant drabbles, oneshots, and series listed under each character.
DEAN WINCHESTER
DRABBLES ONESHOTS SERIES
SAM WINCHESTER
DRABBLES ONESHOTS SERIES
CASTIEL
JARED PADALECKI
JENSEN ACKLES
DANNEEL ACKLES
JENNEEL
MULTIPLE PAIRINGS
NO PAIRINGS
OTHER FANDOMS/CHARACTERS
CLOSED BINGOS
OPEN/ONGOING BINGOS
FRIDAY FEATURE MASTERLIST
HOSTED CHALLENGES
there will never be anything as funny as the mutual disbelief between long form and short form fic writers about each other's style.
short form writers look at people writing 100k+ fics as though this is some sort of talent given as part of a fae bargain, that the commitment required shows some sort of ungodly mental fortitude.
meanwhile long form writers look at people writing 1000 word one shots like god I would cut off my left nipple to be able to say anything concisely. i would love to play with multiple ideas. free me from the shackles of this child I have birthed. i love them but I now must take them to t-ball and doctor's appointments and they're going to destroy everything I own.
RIP to the legend
This goose fucking rocks and had a crazy life!
I really just have to summarize Thomas's entire life:
He was in a committed relationship with a male swan named Henry for 18-24 years before a female swan named Henrietta showed up and mated with Henry.
Thomas was initially jealous of the pair and attacked them, breaking 2 of the 5 eggs Henrietta had laid. However, once the remaining eggs hatched, Thomas warmed up to them and helped raise them.
Henry couldn't fly because of an injured wing, so Thomas taught the cygnets how to fly.
When they needed to reduce the goose population in the pond where Thomas and the swans lived, they dyed Thomas's feathers red so he wouldn't be separated from Henry.
Henry, Henrietta, and Thomas remained in their happy throuple for years and raised 68 cygnets before Henry died in 2009. After Henry's death, Henrietta found another swan and flew away, leaving Thomas alone.
Thomas finally met and mated with a female goose in 2011 and had his own babies. However, another goose named George stole them and raised them himself.
As Thomas grew elderly and blind, he was relocated to a wildlife center where he raised orphaned cygnets.
His caretaker at the center described him as "pretty high maintenance."
Thomas died in 2018 at the age of around 40. He had a funeral that included a small coffin and a procession that was led by a bagpiper. He was buried under the stone where Henry was buried, the two finally reunited in death.
Before and after his death, Thomas has been celebrated as an icon of the LGBTQ+ community for obvious reasons.
Dream A Little Dream
Summary: During a Djinn hunt, Y/N gets captured and struggles to reconcile her dream world with reality. But maybe, she doesn't have to.
Characters: Sam Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex), Mentions of Children/Pregnancy, Mentions of Loss
WC: 21,724
A/N: I've been sitting on this since December 2025, trying to figure out how to break it into smaller pieces, but I couldn't find a way that made me happy. So it's a super long oneshot, sorry about that. But I ADORE this fic, worked a really long time on it, and I'm so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy! : )
My Masterlist
"Pretty sure it's a djinn."
Sam's words hung in the heavy silence of the motel room. Dean's eyes widened at the mention of the creature. They were both too serious and quiet, and Y/N briefly wondered if they had lost someone to one of these monsters before.
"Like a genie?" she asked for clarification. "Like, granting wishes?"
"Not exactly," Dean muttered, his attention on the hunting duffel that contained their weapons as he searched for something specific.
"And we think it's in this abandoned factory?" She asked, readying herself for the hunt.
"Yeah," Sam nodded and swallowed hard as he cast a wary side glance at his brother. "You sure you're up for this?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Yeah, Y/N thought, why wouldn't Dean be up for a hunt? They had all been itching for some action after a period of unusual inactivity across the nation. The second they'd heard of people showing up dead and emaciated in Steubenville, Ohio, they'd piled into the Impala and onto the road, ready to save people and hunt things. After all, it was what they did, the three of them, together.
It was a sixteen-hour drive from the Bunker to the southern region of Ohio, but Dean managed the thousand-mile trip in just under thirteen-and-a-half hours, despite the many stops for gas and snacks. With a steady stream of classic rock from his many cassettes and local stations, Dean's good spirits made the drive seem easy and quicker.
They all got along really well, like family, and had been hunting and living together for a few years. She loved the long drives and enjoyed every minute she got to spend with the brothers, relaxed and free, their guard down and banter flowing. They often teased each other, and Y/N too, and she gave as good as she got. Though it always grated her nerves a bit when Dean landed on his go-to favorite taunt of Sam and Y/N just getting together already. They'd always tease him back and deny any chance of that ever happening—that one hurt.
Because the truth was that Y/N was secretly head-over-heels in love with her closest and best friend, Sam Winchester—emphasis on secretly. And when Dean hit a little too close to home, and Sam vehemently denied it, her heart cracked a little more. But she couldn't tell him. He clearly wasn't into her like that, and she was genuinely grateful for their friendship. She didn't want to ruin the good thing they all had going, and she certainly didn't want to make things awkward when Sam inevitably rejected her.
Sam was kind, thoughtful, intelligent, funny, charming, handsome, and everything she could ever dream of or hope for in this life and beyond. But she was happy to sit in the backseat and silently observe him and admire him when he wasn't looking. Though Dean, the ever observant man that he was, noticed every time and indulged in silently teasing her with taunting smirks through the rear-view or across the room. She was sure she struggled to hide it from him, but somehow Sam never noticed, and for that, she was glad.
Dean amped up the teasing as they spent nearly a week interviewing police and witnesses, family members and loved ones, digging deep into news and archives, and researching late into the night until they finally cracked the case. A week of close quarters with Sam, working beside him as Dean chased down other leads, and enduring Dean's relentless teasing and tormenting of their non-existent love lives.
She was sure Sam would figure her out, and his constant and sometimes angry rejection of Dean's claims only further reminded her why she stayed silent to begin with. He was her best friend; she was head-over-heels in love with him, and that was all it would ever be.
Dean gathered three silver knives from his bag, retrieved a jar of lamb's blood he'd acquired, and dipped each knife into the blood before handing them over, reviewing the plan of action for hunting the djinn creature.
"Stab it through the heart?" Y/N asked, a little grossed out by the animal's blood coating an otherwise pretty and shiny blade.
"Has to be the heart," Sam nodded in affirmation, smirking at her disgust and chuckling when she childishly stuck her tongue out at him in response.
Standing outside the large and looming abandoned factory, the three hunters reviewed the blueprints Dean had laid out on the hood of the Impala.
"Looks like there are three points of entry here, here, and here," Dean pointed on the paper before rolling it up. "I think we should split up, cover more ground."
"Maybe we should stick together on this one?" Sam firmly suggested.
Y/N could see the uncertainty he had. It wasn't unusual for them to split up on hunts, but Sam always argued against it. Maybe he was still worried about Dean and the past she assumed he had with these creatures.
"It'll go faster if we split up," Y/N sided with Dean. "We know what to look for and what to do," she added with a reassuring smile, patting Sam on the arm. His look of concern almost made her second-guess her decision, but Dean clapped his hands together with finality and broke them from their silent stare.
"Alright, let's gank this S.O.B."
The three hunters moved, weapons at the ready, to their separate entrances. Y/N cast Sam one last reassuring smile over her shoulder before the brothers disappeared around the side of the building. She started on her route, blade in one hand and flashlight in the other, as she wandered through halls, checking rooms and looking for any sign of activity. It was quiet and dark, except for the occasional rodent or insect that shifted through the debris of the rotting building.
After several minutes of searching and finding nothing, she wondered if the boys were doing any better, though she couldn't hear any sounds of an altercation. However, that didn't say much, since the building was quite large, with several stories. It was always a little harder for her and Dean to traverse large buildings like this. Sam always fared better because he worked out regularly and had incredible stamina for these things.
As her mind settled on Sam, it drifted from her surroundings into her thoughts. Maybe she should take a chance and tell him how she felt. It seemed like, throughout the case, that perhaps something was shifting between them. But that could also be her imagination, and she didn't want to make things awkward. Despite her deliberations, she still concluded that it was a lost cause. She didn't have time to regret her lack of attention to her surroundings until it was too late.
She heard the shuffling from behind her and turned to face it, a split-second too late as the unknown assailant hit her hard, knocking her to the ground. She turned to see a man, covered in strange tattoos and rags, eyes glowing bright blue as he reached for her. She kicked out with all her strength, landing a blow to the man's stomach as he stumbled back into the wall.
Jumping to her feet, she readied her blade, lunging forward to strike a deadly blow. But the man - creature, her mind provided - grabbed her wrist, his strength more than human, and he grappled with Y/N until their positions were switched. She was pinned against the wall, the knife knocked from her hand.
He had one hand squeezing tightly around her throat, while the other lit up with blue magic as she struggled to keep his splayed hand from touching her. The blue light seemed to grow brighter as his hand grew closer. His touch burned as it came into contact with her forehead, and she felt her body go lax before she blacked out.
-
Sam had a sinking feeling in his gut from the moment they discovered it was a djinn. When Dean suggested splitting up, that feeling grew into a suffocating black hole, and he feared that one of them would fall victim to this monster in one way or another. He hoped that if that were true, it was him. He couldn't bear to witness the loss, sadness, and torment in his brother's eyes again, living a life that he denied himself, a life that could never be. He especially couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to Y/N.
He was never eager or willing to split up on a case, even though he and Dean were forced to do so often. But when it came to Y/N, he never wanted her out of his sight, if he could help it. He knew that was creepy, especially since he was nothing more than a friend to her. A best friend, sure, but still a friend nonetheless.
He wished they could be more, but he could never find his courage or the right words. Dean had clocked him right from the start on his love-at-first-sight feelings for her, which he did his best to hide and contain. Luckily, she never seemed to notice, but Dean wouldn't relent. Y/N was everything to him, and he knew he was nowhere near good enough to give her the life she deserved. Nor was he brave enough to tell her how he truly felt.
He had tried to gather the courage at the small diner in town, where Dean kept rambling on about the burgers and the fact that it was a bar and diner in one, which he acted like was the greatest thing he'd ever seen. But Y/N was all business and urging Dean to focus on the case. Sam knew he wouldn't get anywhere.
He thought he'd try again at the motel, but Dean was insistent on sharing local facts about the town - like it was the birthplace of Dean Martin, which Sam had to admit was cool - to get out of researching, but once again, Y/N was insistent that they needed to focus. People were dying, and they needed to find the monster responsible. Sam really admired that about her, how focused and determined she became during a case.
He had another, seemingly perfect, opportunity as he and Y/N decided to walk along the Ohio River, where one of the victim's bodies had been found. As soon as the words climbed to the back of his throat, Y/N was focused on identifying several buildings upstream where the body could have originated. It felt like everything and everyone was working against him, and in the end, he decided maybe he should keep it to himself.
Another empty hallway, another series of rooms full of furniture, debris, and small critters skittering about, but no djinn in sight. It didn't even look like there was an encampment anywhere, or that feet had disturbed these halls for some time.
He briefly thought about what might happen if he were caught by the djinn, what that world might look like. What would be waiting for him? Would Y/N be there? Would they have an everyday life? What would that even look like?
As he rounded the corner in a hallway, completing the search of his assigned sector, he was relieved to see his brother approach him from the other end, shrugging. The feeling of unease lessened as neither he nor Dean found any sign of the djinn or victims. After a minute, and no sign of Y/N, the feeling returned tenfold.
"She should be here by now," Sam spoke through clenched teeth, pacing the intersection of hallways that Y/N should have come through, but there was no sign or sound of anything approaching their location.
"She's probably fine, just got turned around or something," Dean tried to reassure, though he didn't have a good feeling either. He didn't want to let his overgrown, emotional little brother know that, especially since he was already beginning to spiral into aggressive panic.
They continued through the halls, into her search area, but still found nothing. Frustrated, Sam pulled out his cell and called her number. Both their heads snapped toward the sound of her ringing cell just down the hall from their location.
It didn't take long for them to find her phone on the ground, ringing with Sam's unanswered call. Dean picked up the phone and sighed, stuffing it into his pocket as Sam ended the call and put his phone away. They both searched the immediate area, but there was no sign of her or the creature anywhere in sight.
"We have to find her," Sam declared, tugging at his hair as he continued walking her search path in reverse, checking every room, nook, and cranny he came across for any sign of her.
"I know," Dean answered, not so helpfully as he followed his brother, also searching for any clue, but there wasn't a trace. Not even footprints, other than hers, were coming in that they could track.
"She couldn't have just disappeared!" Sam was moving faster, sweating, his muscles and veins bulging as he searched with fruitless desperation. They searched every hall, room, and floor of the building, but found nothing, reluctantly returning to the Impala.
"We need to get her back," Sam said, looking on the verge of tears as he glanced around at the many other empty buildings.
"We will," Dean insisted, though he wasn't so sure himself. "Even if we have to search every damn building in this town, Sam. We'll get her back."
Dean did his best to remain calm as Sam freaked out, and they worked together to find her and the creature. Sam started wondering if this was the case that tore them all apart, the one that took her away from them for good.
-
The Bunker door opened and closed with loud creaks and an echoing bang, the sound a signal that Sam and Dean had returned from their hunt. It was always hard to wait at the Bunker as they went on hunts, always worried if they'd make it back home alive and in one piece. It was hard to stay away from hunting, not to go with them as she used to, but life had changed, and she was willing to adapt.
It started after the djinn case, where she had been knocked loopy by the creature, but Sam and Dean had arrived in the nick of time to save her from the monster's hallucinogenic venom. Sam was so worried, cupping her face and scooping her into his arms as they fled the factory the djinn called home. He'd carried her to the Impala and checked over every inch of her body for injuries, but she was fine.
It was then he'd grabbed her with gentle and unsteady hands and kissed her with all his buried emotions. He'd confessed his love for her, and she returned the sentiment with tears in her eyes. It was something she never thought possible, but eight years later, they were still together, building a happy life together.
She had moved into Sam's room with him, at his insistence, and it grew to what was now their room. A few doors down from that, Sam had cleaned out one of the spare storage rooms and converted it into a nursery. Then, they did the same for more rooms as more children grew and needed their own spaces. He and Dean worked hard to make the Bunker a home, one more safe than any house he could ever provide, where they raised their beautiful little family. Still a team, the three of them. Well, plus the kids.
As Sam's feet came off the steps, he was nearly tackled by the two small boys who attacked him with hugs and joy at his return, and she was reminded why she joyfully agreed to give it all up.
"Hey, guys," Sam smiled, picking up one child in each arm, hugging and kissing them relentlessly. "Were you good for your Momma?"
Y/N smiled, waiting for her turn as he greeted their children. Once he set them back on their feet, they dogpiled on their uncle, and Sam chuckled, turning his attention to Y/N. "Hello, Wife."
"Hello, Husband," Y/N smiled as Sam kissed her deeply, a hand finding her rounded belly. Sam never missed an opportunity to call her 'wife', and she relished the loving look on his face every time he did, followed by a hungry look when she responded with 'husband'. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too, Baby. So much. How are you doing?" he asked, rubbing her belly. She couldn't help the broad grin. Sam was always so worried and attentive towards her and their children, and she always felt blessed to call him hers.
"We're good," she promised. "Just glad you're back."
The sounds of the children and Dean at play suddenly fell silent. She turned her attention from Sam to where the others were playing, but they were gone. She briefly wondered if they had skittered off while she was distracted with Sam, but when she looked back to him with a questioning gaze, he, too, looked different.
Where before he seemed happy and clean, now he looked worried and dirty. The Bunker seemed to flash in and out, replaced by a dank, dark, dilapidated building. The flashing images before her made her disoriented, and she swayed on her feet.
"Y/N?" Sam's voice shook with worry as he cupped her face, the image of him changing more rapidly between happy and concerned, put together and disheveled. "Y/N, come on. Come back to me."
"Sam? What's happening?"
"Y/N-" his voice sounded like it was coming through water as her vision tunneled, black creeping in on the edges.
Her body ached fiercely, and she looked down at her now flat stomach with panic. As she tried to run her hands over her stomach, she couldn't move; her arms were held by something. She could feel Sam shaking her with urgency, and she wanted to demand that he stop, but she couldn't make herself speak, either, only a pained squeak passing her lips. Then, everything went black.
-
"Y/N?"
Everything hurt, and there was a relentless pounding behind her eyelids. Y/N forced herself to sit up, one hand gripping her aching head, an involuntary groan punched from her lungs at the tremendous effort it took to move.
"Whoa, hey, go slow."
It was Sam's reassuring voice, his large, warm hands on her shoulders, and she instantly relaxed at the familiarity of his touch. Whatever had happened, Sam was here with her, protecting her. Without opening her eyes, she leaned forward and tucked her head beneath his chin as she so often did. But his arms hesitated to hold her in the way she was accustomed.
Confused, she pulled from his hold and forced her sore eyes to open and look at him. He was the worried, dirtied, and sweaty Sam that had flashed in and out of her mind. She looked down at herself, absolutely filthy, and ran a shaky hand over her empty belly. A broken gasp fell from her parted lips as she released a pained cry.
"My children," she stuttered, wild eyes locked on Sam's comically widened ones. "My baby! Sam, where are the kids?"
As she started to spiral into panic, Sam looked to Dean for help, but he, too, was stunned at her outburst. "You don't have any kids, Y/N," Sam responded, his heart sinking further as she shook her head in denial and tears streamed rapidly down her face.
She froze and whispered a broken, "No," before she sobbed heartily.
Sam didn't know what to do but hold her, wrapping his arms tightly around her and trying to soothe her, but it didn't seem to help. Whatever she'd experienced in that damn djinn world was hurting her in ways he didn't know how to heal. When Dean had been captured, it took months before he seemed himself again, but Sam suspected he never really got over it.
He couldn't bear to think what she had lost, what sort of perfect life she was forced to leave behind, though he was curious. Did she settle down with some civilian who gave her the life she deserved? Two and a half kids, a dog, and a white-picket fence? All things he desperately wanted to give her, but was sure he never could. Whatever it was, it was tearing her apart. Sam cast a pleading look to his brother, someone who could understand and maybe help.
"Took us a few days to find you," Dean said, his voice layered with anger and apology, and she knew he was blaming himself. "That bastard knocked you out and took you to another building. So we searched them all until we found you."
"The djinn got me?" she said, less a question and more a statement.
It made sense, she realized, since their research and the brothers' knowledge told her that the djinn poisoned people, siphoned off their life while they rotted away in a magical, hallucinatory dream world. It took them days to find her - days - and she surely would have died if the trusty Winchesters hadn't found her just in time and brought her back to the motel.
It was a dream. All of it. Being married to Sam, having a family together. It was everything she had wanted, and it was all a dream, induced by the venom of a creature. It would haunt and torment her the rest of her days.
They hovered over her, as if they could make her okay just by being close. It made her uneasy and uncomfortable, an unfamiliar feeling with the brothers that she’d long called friends and companions. Dean was still Dean, in the dream and in reality, but she couldn't look Sam in the eye; she couldn't speak to him or interact with him directly.
The dream world from which she’d been ripped still lingered in her mind and ached her heart, and she couldn't bear to look at Sam, knowing he wasn't her Sam. Not in the way that she had become used to. Because even though it had been a few days, it had been years in her mind. In the next moment, she buried her head in her hands as harsh sobs tore from her. Her husband, her children, and the life that she cherished were gone in an instant.
Dean understood, more than Sam could, about how much a djinn world could mess with your mind and emotions, playing on the things you wanted most, and leaving you bereft once free. All she truly wanted was to disappear back into that world where everything was perfect.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam offered, but she shook her head frantically. How the hell could she put it all into words and speak those words to him? “Okay. Do you feel well enough for the drive home?”
Home. That word now held a different meaning for her, especially from Sam’s lips. She couldn’t look at Sam, shying away from his touch and nearness, depending heavily on Dean, who was more than willing to be there for whatever she needed. Y/N was more than just a friend; she was family, and a cornerstone to their little trio.
He also knew Sam was hurting as she turned away from him, refusing any comfort from the friendship that just days ago had Dean wishing the two of them would get together already, despite their constant denial of anything more, or the insecurities that had them both believing it wasn’t possible.
It didn't stop Sam from trying at every moment to help Y/N, either by supporting her weak body as they packed into the car, trying to engage her in conversation, or picking her favorite snacks when they stopped for food and gas. Each time, she barely uttered a sound and never met his eyes, and Sam did his best to hide the pain of her distance.
Just Sam's presence was like a knife twisting in her heart, because it wasn't her Sam, her husband Sam. He was still himself, and that, too, made it difficult, because he was so sweet and caring. But every little thing only reminded her of what she'd lost, of what could never be, and she felt as though she were dying a little more inside with every passing second.
As Sam helped her weakened body into the car, she had a flash of when she went into labor with their first child. He had held her much the same way, guiding her into the car while he panicked and tried to focus on the birthing plan they'd put in place. It was amazing how quickly his rational mind disappeared when his emotional mind could only focus on 'baby coming'.
Because of that, and her body still weak from being captured and strung up for days, she opted to sleep in the backseat for most of the long drive home. Sam kept looking over the seat at her with concern, especially as she grew fitful time and again, likely fighting whatever torment she'd endured in her mind. When she was awake and chose to speak, it was only in small words and only with Dean.
When Dean stopped for gas and snacks, Sam returned with a big grin and handed her a variety of her favorite snacks. He just knew what she liked. It reminded her of when he'd return home after a hunt, always with some cheap little trinket for her. Usually, a keychain from a rest stop, or a dollar plastic toy he found cute and amusing. She kept every one, and had built up a collection. Sam had obtained a small three-shelf bookcase and used it to display the collection of tokens, something that always reminded her of his love and of how he was always thinking of her.
The cold shoulder from Y/N towards Sam continued for several days as they moped around the Bunker. Sam tried many times to talk to her, but she retreated from him every time, as if they’d never been friends to begin with. Every time he caught her out in a public space, she barely said anything to him and mostly avoided him altogether.
He had walked toward the kitchen and paused when he heard her and Dean chatting inside. It wasn't anything important, but she laughed and seemed to talk just fine, though there was an underlying sadness that tinged her every word. He began to wonder if Dean was the father and husband in her dreams. She seemed more comfortable with him after the hunt, when before she was closer to Sam.
It never occurred to him that she might harbor secret feelings, especially for Dean, but to Sam it made sense - they always fell for Dean. It crushed him in ways he couldn't put into words. But if Y/N dreamed of a life with Dean, he wouldn't stand in the way. All he wanted was her happiness.
-
Dean rounded the corner in the hallway, intent on finding his brother, only to see Sam leaning against the edge of the wall as he peered around the corner at something. Dean slowed his steps and stealthily moved beside the taller man, stretching to see around him. Y/N stood in front of an open doorway to a room Dean wasn't familiar with; there were just so many, and she looked as if she were softly crying while absentmindedly rubbing her belly.
"What are we looking at?" he whispered.
Sam jumped in surprise, completely unaware Dean was there, his focus on Y/N and his guard down when he was home. He peeked around the corner again, glad that Y/N seemed undisturbed and hadn't noticed or heard them. He turned his attention back to his older brother with a huff.
"What are you doing?" Sam snapped back. Dean raised a brow, waiting for Sam to answer his question. The stare-off lasted only a few moments before Sam rolled his eyes hard. "I was watching Y/N."
"I can see that."
Sam fought back a groan, "She's been like that for twenty minutes."
Dean raised a brow again, "You've been watching her for twenty minutes?"
"No!" Sam hissed, though he closed his eyes and sighed, slumping as he knew that he had, in fact, watched her that long. "Yes. Look, something is going on with her. I think whatever happened really messed her up." He paused for breath. "You should talk to her."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you. Because she actually talks to you, and you two seem close," he shrugged, trailing off like it was no big deal, but they both knew better.
"Really, Sam?"
"You might have been in her dream, or her friend, or something. I don't know. But she's more comfortable talking to you since the whole thing. She barely looks at me," he deflated.
Dean peeked around the corner, and Y/N was still standing in the same position, almost as if in a trance. It was a little creepy. He looked back at his brother, who had been watching her for over twenty minutes, which was also creepy. He didn't want to get in the middle of whatever was going on with them, but if he could help them get through whatever this funk was, then he would try.
"Hey, Sweetheart," he smiled, making his presence known as he rounded the corner.
Y/N jumped in surprise and quickly wiped away the tears from her face as he walked toward her, stopping in front of the open door and looking curiously into the room. It was stacked haphazardly with various furniture and file cabinets, dusty and forgotten with time. He looked back at her, and she looked embarrassed at having been caught at something.
"What were you looking at?" Dean carefully asked.
"Nothing," she shook her head and forced a smile for his benefit, but he could see right through it, read the pain in her eyes.
"What was this room?" He looked into the room again before meeting her eyes, his gaze tinged with hurt and understanding.
Her eyes widened at his phrasing and the loaded gaze, because it confirmed what she had suspected before, that he had once fallen victim to a djinn, that he knew what she was going through. She knew because she knew Dean, now and in the dream, and he was one of her most trusted friends. There or here, he was still him.
"A nursery," she bashfully admitted with a reluctant sigh. "He, my husband, cleaned it out, painted and decorated, built the new furniture," she chuckled at the memory, her smile wide as she brushed away another errant tear. "But…it's just a room."
Sam had worked so hard for so long, with Dean's help, to make that room perfect before their first child arrived. He did it again and again with each new child they had. But here, it never happened. Everywhere she looked, signs of that life were missing. The Bunker seemed colder, emptier, less familiar somehow, and she began to wonder if she should even be there.
"We can talk about it, if you need to," Dean offered. Talking about feelings wasn't usually something he did, but if she needed someone to vent to, he wouldn't mind being that for her. Without having much detail at all, he already formed a pretty good picture in his mind of what she had, what it looked like. He knew enough about her to venture a guess, anyway.
"No," she smiled and patted his arm, as if he were the one who needed reassuring. "I'm fine. I'll just head back to my room and get some rest."
Dean let her go, intending to close the door to the storage room, but paused to look it over once more and imagine it as a nursery. He pursed his lips, nodding his head, able to picture something like it in his mind. He slowly closed the door and sighed. That would be a difficult one for him to endure, so he understood why she was so out of it. He wasn't sure what to do to help, really, but he was determined to try before this drove her insane.
-
Dean quickly noticed the mood shift in Sam, who reverted to grunts and glares at his brother as Y/N's avoidance persisted. It bothered him not just their avoidance of each other and the issue at hand, but also that his little brother was upset with him, as if he'd caused all of this.
It didn't take him long to sort it out, that Sam was jealous, and that he thought maybe Dean was the 'husband' from the dream. But he knew that couldn't be it. She and Sam had a thing, and Sam had it bad for her from the get. He wouldn't take that away from him. Sure, he and Y/N were friends, and he wasn't blind to how hot and great she was, but was it possible he had been oblivious to it?
Dean had to find out what had happened in that dream world and, hopefully, help her get through it. There was no getting over it, he knew from personal experience, but she could move past it, and he was determined to help get their little family back on track.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Dean greeted as he entered the open door to her room. She paused the TV and whatever she’d barely been paying attention to, forcing a smile as he entered and sat beside her. “How you feelin’?” She shrugged, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. “Look, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened, but we need to.”
“Dean-”
“No. You’ve been in a terrible funk, and Sam can’t take much more of you avoiding him,” he chuckled, but instantly felt awful from the pained frown she granted him. “You know I was in a djinn world once,” he said as he sat beside her.
"I figured," she shrugged and met his eyes, surprised as he smiled wistfully.
"There was a woman, Carmen, and we were living together. She was the model from the El Sol beer ads," he chuckled, glad that she was attentive and looking at him.
"In the dream, she was a nurse. Mom was still alive, though Dad had died. Jess was alive too, and she and Sam were engaged." he had to pause; the memory of it all still stung after all these years. Y/N knew about Sam and Jessica, had heard the stories, some from Sam himself. She flinched at the name, though, knowing that she was the great love of Sam's life. Nothing she could be or ever compare to.
"But I was the family fuck up, and Sam and I didn't get along, didn't even talk to each other, like at all," he lamented, and Y/N placed a hand over his reassuringly.
"I can't imagine you and Sam not being, well, you and Sam," she chuckled. He was glad she still had humor about her, despite looking deep in despair, her eyes red-rimmed and dark-circled, her hair a mess, her skin pale and lacking its usual luster.
"It's just, even though I guess I wasn't around much, I had a life, without the supernatural. Apparently, I worked at a garage and lived with that woman. Sam was engaged and a lawyer; Mom was alive and in the house in Lawrence. It was awesome," he admitted, the pain of it returning to the surface as he spoke about it, even after all these years.
"When I came back, I couldn't help but feel guilty. Like if I hadn't gone back to get Sam from Stanford, maybe he would have had that life."
"None of what happened to him was your fault, Dean."
"I know. But I spent a lot of time feeling angry and sad, filled with loss, wishing I could have that life again," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "I guess I'm just trying to say that I get it, you know. It's not easy, that's why djinn are such terrible creatures."
If he was willing to open up about it, she supposed she had to as well. She sighed as she sat up straighter, leaning against the headboard and daring to meet his eyes. “I was married, we had kids, a whole, happy life together.”
“Aw, honey. If you wanted to get married, all you had to do was ask,” he teased, and she elbowed his ribs playfully.
“It was with Sam,” she added, and Dean couldn’t even pretend to be surprised, though he was relieved that Sam's paranoia was just that.
“Yeah, I figured. It's just that you and he always had that thing," he added lamely.
"There isn't a thing, we're just friends," she added sadly, and Dean had to fight back the frustrated growl at the two of them, just wanting to bash their heads together or lock them in a room. But he knew anger wouldn't help anything.
"I've known there was a thing since you two met. Hell, everyone else thinks there's a thing. If you'd talk to him-"
“How can I? How can I look him in the eye after that?” She rubbed her eyes and rose from the bed to pace. "We were married longer than I've even known him! I love him, and now he's just gone! Our kids-" She started to cry again, the loss of her children too much to bear, her mind unable to separate the dream from reality.
"He's not gone, Y/N," Dean insisted, taking her into his arms and trying his best to soothe her. Though if he'd had kids in his dream and they were never real, he's sure he would have fallen into a deep, inconsolable despair. Except he knew his brother, and that Sam wanted all the same things. He'd only had to hear Sam go on and on about it over the years they'd known Y/N. Her dreams could become reality, unlike his own. “You should tell him.”
“Dean,” she pleaded. “I can’t.”
He huffed, but nodded, wrapping his arm around her as she tucked into his side and shared the whole story of her time in the dream. She needed comfort, and he was the one who could give it to her. But he knew if she just talked to Sam, he’d offer her the world. The two of them were so utterly blind to the possibility of each other that it drove him and everyone else insane.
-
Dean cautiously walked into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, ever on the lookout for Sam and Y/N. She rarely came out of her room and only really interacted with Dean, avoiding Sam entirely. That, of course, made Sam unbearable as he brooded about the Bunker, sulking over Y/N, and still convinced that Dean somehow meant more to her.
Luck was not on his side as he entered the kitchen to find Sam at the dining table, nursing his own mug. He looked like he hadn't slept much, and his hair was a little wild. Dean rolled his eyes to himself, his back to Sam as he fixed a mug, chugging it down quickly with a sigh before refilling it and turning to look at his brother, who was already glaring at him.
"You look like shit."
"I didn't sleep well," Sam answered, focusing his attention on the mug in his hands. "I saw her this morning. She came in for coffee," he sighed and ran his hands through his hair, which only made it messier. Dean figured that was how it became so unruly to begin with.
"Did you talk?" Dean asked, quickly polishing off the second mug before refilling and joining Sam at the table.
"I tried to," Sam shrugged. "But she always looks like she's terrified, but also like her body is leaning toward me somehow," he shook his head. "It's probably just my imagination," he huffed, then glanced at Dean, looking like a lost and broken little boy.
"It's not me, Sam," Dean told him gently, still trying to convince his brother that he wasn't some great secret love in Y/N's mind, but he also didn't want to betray her confidence. He wanted her to talk to Sam. But he was quickly losing his patience, and he wasn't sure how much more of his brother's sadness and anger he could take.
"It doesn't matter who it was," he said, a little sharply. "I just want her to be okay. I want to help, but she won't talk to me. She'll talk to you, but that doesn't seem to be helping her, and you won't tell me what it is, so I can't help her."
God, Sam's emotional tirade wasn't helping Dean's patience any. He was spinning out, and he really wanted to bash their heads together for his own sanity. He never thought his brother falling in love meant all his intelligence disappeared. Sam could talk to anyone, adapt himself to them to gather intel or learn important information, and soothe grieving family members and talk down angry police. So why the hell couldn't he manage to talk to Y/N about how he felt?
Dean realized, as he got lost in his thoughts and shook out of it, that Sam was still ranting, had been ranting the whole time. Dean rubbed his temples with a groan. Yeah, he couldn't keep living like this.
"It was you!" Dean shouted, and the room fell silent. He opened his eyes to see Sam, shocked to stillness, slack-jawed, staring at Dean as if there were a hole in his head.
"What?"
Dean sighed, "It was you, man. You were the husband and father. Okay? In the dream, you two were married, had kids, and were stupidly in love. She had a perfect life with you."
Sam sucked in a sharp breath as his heart raced and his mind reeled. It wasn't his brother, but him. They were married and had a family. God, Sam had that dream himself many times, without the involvement of a djinn, and his heart wanted to soar knowing that she apparently wanted that, too.
But how could he talk to her about it? And if she kept avoiding him, it had to be for a reason. Maybe it hurt too much, and she needed space? Maybe Dean was wrong and just using this as another opportunity to try to insinuate something between her and Sam when there was nothing.
“So, are you gonna talk to her?”
“She’s avoiding me for a reason,” Sam responded, snapping out of his stupor and resorting to his usual self-deprecation that kept him from pursuing her in the first place, no matter how badly he wanted to.
Dean shook his head, knowing that insisting they talk alone would not be enough to bring about any change. But he was no longer willing to live with their sadness and separation, with the pining and lovestruck looks across the room, the longing and love that lingered between them. He rapidly stood and marched from the room, and Sam jumped up to follow in a panic.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Dean.”
Y/N had locked herself away, and neither brother had set eyes on her in days. Dean had had enough and threw open Y/N's bedroom door, ready to barricade the two in the room until they sorted everything out. Except both brothers froze with wide eyes as they set eyes on her room, which she was not in, and half of her things were missing, as if she had hastily packed and left in a hurry.
"She didn't," Dean announced, devastated as he and Sam dashed to the garage with the same goal in mind. Her car was missing from its usual spot. They knew she had left without a word, and neither of them had noticed.
"I'll go see if I can track her phone, find where she went," Dean announced, rushing from the garage to start tracking her. Though he knew it wouldn't be simple, since he'd taught Y/N how to cover her tracks.
Sam stood alone in the garage, regretting his decision to give her space. Maybe if he had talked to her, she wouldn't have run off. He could have told her how he felt, that he wanted the same life that she'd dreamed of, kids and all. His heart broke for her as Dean had told him how broken she was over the loss of their imaginary children. He could understand, as he too would be utterly devastated over losing everything he had ever wanted, finding out it was all a dream. He hoped Dean could find something, because right then, Sam felt a hopelessness consume him that he hadn't experienced in years.
-
After her talk with Dean, Y/N knew she had to leave the Bunker, at least for a while. Because there was no way Dean wouldn't end up telling Sam, they told each other almost everything, and she knew Dean was worried about her. But being in the Bunker and around Sam and Dean was messing with her head. She couldn't distinguish between the dream and reality. So she packed up some things, snuck out of the Bunker, collected her old, rarely used car, and was glad that Dean kept all the vehicles in working order.
She drove, without a destination in mind, and found herself back in Steubenville. She pulled into a motel, unlike the one she had been in with the brothers. She desperately needed to disassociate and to reconfigure her mind to this reality, not the one to which she'd grown accustomed in her dream. The loss of her children was the most difficult pill to swallow, even harder when she made herself realize they never were to begin with.
As she entered her motel room, she faceplanted on the bed and let the tears consume her, something she couldn't do back home with the Winchesters around, because they were sweet, caring, and concerned and wouldn't let her suffer alone. Especially Sam, who was the best friend she'd ever had, and she'd never loved anyone as strongly and deeply as she did him.
The first couple of days, she remained in the motel room, crying and grieving as she let herself remember the finer details of her life with Sam and their beautiful children, then forcing herself to let it go, like photographs sacrificed to a fire. She couldn't grieve properly within the walls of the Bunker. It was too familiar, signs of the other life everywhere and nowhere. And being around the brothers who weren't the ones she's grown used to made it harder for her to separate herself from the dream.
After a few days, the pain lessened, and the memories began to fade like distant thoughts. She supposed it was traces of the creature's magic undoing in the wake of its death. Then she decided that perhaps she should retrace her steps from the case, remind herself how she got there, and separate the two sets of memories at the point of their origin, with the djinn.
Luckily, the details of working the case in both scenarios were the same, only the outcome had changed. So she was able to retrace her steps through town. She stopped to look over several houses where they'd gone to interview people about the missing persons, the victims, or possible leads.
She giggled to herself as she stood outside the lovely Victorian-style home with the lonely older lady who was completely enamored with Sam. Dean couldn't resist teasing him about it for the rest of the day, and Sam was the only one who didn't find it so amusing.
'It's because you're so big and charming, Sam.' She remembered teasing him with a flirty grin. 'BIG and CHARMING, huh?' Dean had teased, and Y/N bashfully looked away, her cheeks hot as Dean had chuckled. But Sam flashed her the biggest grin, his dimples popping, as if he'd just won a lottery, and it melted her heart, despite the embarrassment she felt.
As she passed by the diner, she remembered when Dean kept going on and on about how cool it was that the restaurant was a diner and a bar, something he felt should be more common. Sam seemed annoyed with his brother's ramblings, so Y/N tried to help him out and get Dean to focus on the case. But other than asking a question or two about the research, Sam didn't really talk, and she wondered if he was somehow annoyed with her, too.
Eventually, she found herself standing on the banks of the Ohio River, where one of the victims' bodies had been found. It was a significant lead in the case, and proved to be the detail that helped them track down the djinn. She and Sam agreed to check out the area while Dean went to the morgue. Y/N tried to avoid the dead body part as much as possible, though she could never avoid it entirely.
They had started where the body had been found and walked along the river upstream to try to identify a possible point of origin. The police had done that too, but they didn't know what they were looking for.
She admired the way the breeze blew through his hair, the way the sun shone on his skin as they walked, and her cheeks felt impossibly hot when he caught her looking. Though he didn't say anything, she hoped that maybe he hadn't figured it out. He never seemed to catch on before, but she needed to be more careful.
So she focused all her attention on the case and the many abandoned buildings, factories, and warehouses that lined the river in the once-thriving industrial town. Sam seemed glad to focus on the case, and it wasn't long before they pinpointed the most likely location of the djinn.
Though she knew it wasn't one of her better ideas, she entered the abandoned building with a flashlight and a large silver blade, missing the key component of lamb's blood. She was pretty confident that there was no longer any danger, since they had caught and killed the djinn that had settled here, and that the knife was just in case.
She remembered her entry point, the route she traveled, and stopped as she came to the spot in one of the hallways where the djinn had attacked her. In both scenarios, she grappled with the creature. In one, Sam and Dean arrived before the beast could touch her and inflict its venom, and it was the moment that launched her and Sam into their relationship. He had saved her, wanted her, loved her.
In the other, her reality, the djinn overpowered her, touched her, and fed on her while she rotted away in a perfect dream. Sam and Dean found her and saved her. But Sam didn't cup her face with eyes full of tears and kiss her. He didn't choke up as he told her that he loved her and was afraid to lose her.
While she was able to leave the building knowing the creature was dead, the threat gone, she couldn't help but feel that all possibility of the dream coming true was left behind there, too. As she returned to her motel, she considered finding another djinn. She could let it take her, despite knowing that she would die. But she would be able to have that life back.
As she entered her motel room, she chewed herself out for that train of thought. She wasn't going to throw herself away over this, no matter how much it hurt. But she knew she couldn't hide her feelings for Sam any longer. All she wanted was to crawl into his arms, seek his comfort and love. If he didn't feel the same and rejected her, she wasn't sure she could survive that either, the second death of her dream. She had to make a decision: either tell Sam the truth and risk everything, or maybe go back out on her own for a while.
-
Dean was on his umpteenth cup of coffee, unable to sleep with Y/N missing and Sam going crazy trying to find her. Sam had been nonstop since they discovered she'd left, using every method at his disposal to try to track her down. It had been days, and no luck, until Sam received a call from the Jefferson County Sheriff's Office, who spoke with the Steubenville Police Department after a report of spotting the vehicle Sam had put a BOLO on.
"Why would she go back to Steubenville?" Dean asked tiredly as they piled into the Impala, ready to return to the town, despite their efforts never to return to places where they had cases.
"I'll be sure to ask her when we find her," Sam snarkily responded. Dean just sighed, knowing Sam would remain on edge until he set eyes on Y/N again.
Sam was hurt that she left, that she wouldn't talk to him, that she wouldn't let him help her with this. Especially since it involved him, they were best friends, and even if she thought he'd turn her down, which he never would, she should have known that they could talk about it and he could help her work through it. She wasn't in her right mind, not that he could blame her for that, but it only added to his worry.
He'd been thinking about her nonstop since she left. Thinking about what her djinn dream world looked like, according to Dean. Thinking about all the opportunities he had to man up and tell her how he felt, and hated himself for never taking the chance. At least then she would have let him comfort her, talk about what happened, and what she really wanted, deep down.
They pulled into the parking lot of the motel where the car was last seen, and Sam let out a long breath of relief as they set eyes on her car, parked in front of one of the rooms of the dingy motel. Sam's heart raced, knowing she was nearby after nearly a week of looking and going out of his mind with worry.
Dean convinced Sam to wait in the car while he went into the office to find out what room Y/N was in and secure his own room while he was at it. He got a double in case Y/N wasn't there or didn't want to see them. If Sam struck out, Dean could try in the morning. They'd of course have to take shifts to make sure she didn't leave again. Dean just hoped that she and Sam could work it out, for both their sakes.
Sam had to pace outside the car, filled with nervous energy, and fighting the urge to knock on every door until he found her. When Dean returned, Sam was sitting against the hood of the Impala, and he could tell he had worked himself into an emotional frenzy.
"I got a room," he led with, pointing over his shoulder. "Number twenty-seven."
"Is she here?" Sam was barely able to contain the tremor in his voice, his emotions tumultuous and blending into deep, wounded anger.
"Room seventeen," Dean sighed, dropping his head as Sam immediately pushed off the car and headed to the indicated room. "Just…be nice," he hissed after the taller man.
Sam stood in front of her door, closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself as best he could under the circumstances. Gathering his courage, he knocked swiftly on the door and waited as he heard shuffling from within. Several long moments later, the door opened just a crack, stopped by the flimsy security chain on the inside. Y/N peeked through the opening, her eyes tired and red-rimmed, and Sam felt both relieved and heartbroken over her state.
"Sam?" The door closed, then opened again, wider, without the chain limiting its operation. She glanced around, seeing the Impala but not Dean, which confused her more.
"Dean got another room," Sam responded after her quick search.
"What are you doing here?"
"Are you gonna let me in?" Sam failed to keep the hurt and anger from creeping into his voice.
Y/N nodded, backing up to allow him to enter, and shut the door behind them. She turned to face him, leaning against the door and feeling somewhat cornered. He looked so small, despite his size, and she knew he was worried and hurting.
"How did you find me?"
Sam scoffed and shook his head, biting his lip as he looked at her. "We couldn't track you, so we - I - put out a BOLO."
"A BOLO?" she shrieked, looking out the window to see if any other cars were driving past or parked and watching.
"It's just us," Sam promised, glad when she relaxed and looked at him again. "I wouldn't have had to if you had called, or left your phone on, or left a freakin' note!" Sam's voice grew angrier with each word he spat, and when Y/N flinched, he felt both ashamed and justified.
"I'm sorry," she began, taking cautious steps towards him. "I should have left a note or something. But I had to get out of there, sort my head."
Sam huffed, "I get that these situations can be hard, but why didn't you come and talk to us?" He wanted to clarify why she didn't talk to him, but the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel cornered or attacked, even though her silence and absence killed him.
"I talked to Dean," she mumbled as she dropped her head, the words sounding weak to her own ears. "I didn't want to avoid you, I should have talked to you, but-”
“Why didn’t you?” He asked softly, but he really needed to know. Was it someone else, or was Dean telling the truth, and it was him? He didn't want to get his hopes up, but they rose nonetheless.
She huffed a laugh and shook her head. “Because I didn’t want to embarrass myself or make things awkward between us!"
“Between us?" he clarified, swallowing hard, and when she nodded her head, his heart jumped into his throat.
"How was I supposed to tell you that I…I dreamed of being your wife, having your kids, because that's what I dream of every day I see you, know you, talk to you!"
Sam's breath hitched at her confession. He thought about how much he wanted more with her, how he worried she wouldn't like him. How he assumed she wanted an apple-pie life with a civilian or even with his brother. He wanted to be all that and more for her, whatever she needed him to be, but didn't think she saw him as anything more than a friend. Now, suddenly, everything seemed possible, just beyond reach, and he was willing to stretch as far as he could to touch and obtain it.
"You think I didn't feel that way, too? That I haven't wanted you every day since we met?" He responded, still angry, but his words were softer as he stared her down. "After Dean finally told me-"
"Dean told you?" she said, and the look in her eyes was like a cornered animal ready to run or fight.
"Well," he huffed. "You weren't going to."
Her mind was reeling, swimming with a myriad of emotions as she processed what he was telling her. He knew about the dream, and he didn't run or let her down. He said he wanted her too, since they met, and here he was, tracking her down after she fled like a coward.
“Sam-"
"I've had the same dreams. I've thought about a life with you all the time, Y/N. I didn't think you-"
His words set her body in motion, and he was cut off as Y/N stood on her toes to reach his lips, kissing him and crashing her body into his. He hummed into the kiss, reciprocating as his arms pulled her flush against him. It could have been minutes or hours, but it didn't matter as they drowned in each other's kisses. When they finally separated, he leaned his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath.
“Tell me about it?”
“What?”
Sam moved them to sit on the edge of the bed, tucking her hair behind her ears and cupping her face. “Tell me about the dream, our lives.”
“Sam,” she shook her head, and he urged her eyes back to his.
“Please?”
She couldn’t resist the tender, pleading look in his eyes. “We were married,” she began. “Had been married for eight years,” she breathed deeply to steel her nerves. “We had two boys, and I was pregnant. We were hoping for a girl this time,” she sniffled, having to break their gaze to lower her head and wipe away a sudden tear.
"You were still hunting with Dean, and we lived in the Bunker. I gave up hunting to take care of the kids, and we made the Bunker a home. It was perfect,” she insisted, meeting his eyes again despite the tears streaming down her face. “I just…I wanted a life with you, and the fact it came with everything else…”
Sam kissed her deeply, wiping away her tears with his thumbs as he tried to soothe her. His heart ached for her, and he knew if he’d been the one in that dream, he’d suffer greatly under its loss. It did sound perfect, and if she’d let him, Sam would do his best to give her all that and more.
“I love you,” Sam spoke from the heart, pouring out all the things he’d been holding inside for so long. “I have loved you for so long. But you’re my best friend. You know everything about me, including the worst of me, and I didn’t think there was any way you’d want me after knowing all that.”
She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his, running a hand down his shoulder and chest, feeling how real he was, different from the dream. She had a hard time believing it could be true, but she was also so very exhausted. Her stomach gurgled loudly, and they both chuckled.
"When's the last time you ate something?" Sam asked, caressing her cheek. "When's the last time you slept?"
She scoffed, knowing she didn't look great. "I could ask you the same," she said, noticing how unkempt he looked, so different from his usual self. She felt guilty for what she put him through.
"Why don't I order in something?"
She nodded, grateful for him and his care in that moment. Neither of them had been taking care of themselves, and she was so overwhelmed she wasn't sure she could think straight. They ate and passed the time as Y/N told him about their dream lives, and Sam asked pointed questions, wanting to know more. He had pictured a lot of the same things himself, and it thrilled him that the two of them seemed to be on the same page.
Somehow, that turned into them relaxing on the bed, lost in a heavy makeout session while the TV played some random movie neither of them had been paying attention to. He kissed her again and again, stealing her breath away, before trailing his kisses along her jaw and neck, focusing on the spot behind her ear that made her mewl.
“If you let me, I’ll give you everything you want," he said, his touch and kisses igniting something deeper. I’m all in, for all of it.”
“Sam,” she moaned. She wanted to believe him, but it all seemed so surreal. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but-”
“But what?” he asked. “You think I don’t mean it? I’ll call Cas and have him officiate a vow exchange right here and now.”
“Sam!” she chuckled, slapping his shoulder, but he didn’t budge, grinning down at her with shimmering eyes full of love that made her gasp.
“Marry you,” he said with a peck to her lips. “Have babies with you,” he chuckled against her throat, and she groaned to his delight.
“Sam, are you serious?” She pulled from the kiss, cupping his face as she studied his eyes for any hint of a joke or lie.
“Yes, I’m serious. Marry me, Y/N. I want my best friend to become my wife,” he emphasized, and he relished her swoon.
It might seem fast or ridiculous to normal people, people who weren’t them. But for him and Y/N, and the life they lived, he knew he had to take a chance when it presented itself. Tomorrow was never guaranteed, and he didn’t want to waste any more time thinking about it. After all the time they could have been together, all the hurt and misunderstanding, he finally wanted to live it.
Hearing this version, the real version, of Sam say 'wife' sent her whole being into overdrive, the dream and reality colliding into something that made her feel desperate and hungry. “I love you, Sam,” she said, cupping his face to hold his gaze. “So much.”
“So is that a yes?” he chuckled nervously with a lopsided grin that melted her heart.
"Ask me again in the morning," she chuckled, broken by a wide yawn. Sam laughed and kissed her forehead, and they quickly settled under the covers together. She settled off into a deep sleep, surrounded by the safety and warmth of Sam, and hoped he still meant it in the morning. Sam wrapped her in his arms, unwilling to let go in case it was all just a dream.
It didn't take long for Y/N to fall asleep, but Sam stayed awake, holding her close, running his fingers through her hair, and caressing her skin as she fell deep into sleep like her body needed. He was floating on cloud nine, still trying to wrap his head around all of it. He'd proposed, and meant every word. He wanted her to be his wife. He wasn't sure if she believed him, but he fully intended to ask her again in the morning.
When she rolled over and snuggled into the bed, Sam took the opportunity to carefully remove himself from the bed. He needed to check in with Dean, let him know things were okay, but also talk to him about the new developments. Quietly slipping out, Sam headed to Dean's room, knocking on the door rapidly, impatient for him to answer.
Dean hadn't been sleeping, but had been relaxing on the bed watching TV. When he heard the knock on the door, he assumed the worst. That Y/N had rejected Sam, and he'd come crawling back to Dean's room for shelter. Opening the door, Dean was surprised as Sam jovially bounced past him into the room, a stupidly happy grin on his face.
"So, how did it go?" Dean asked, unsure what was going on and why Sam was absolutely lit up.
"I asked her to marry me," Sam announced, rocking on the balls of his feet, grinning ear-to-ear.
“You proposed?” Dean asked, stunned at the turn of events. He thought they’d talk, maybe roll in the sheets, and be together. But he didn’t know either of them would dive straight to the big stuff. “Are you sure this isn’t the dream influencing things?”
“Dean, I love her. You know that, and this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about a future like that with her.”
“Yeah, but married? What did she say?”
“Well, she told me to ask her again in the morning,” Sam deflated a little. "She was tired and a little surprised to see me," he admitted, chewing on his lip in thought as he wondered if his happiness wasn't premature.
“Are you sure about this? I mean, I just don't want you to rush into things. And I don't want to see either of you get hurt."
“Look, it’s not like we can have a legal marriage. If we do a private ceremony, we can make our promises together, and it’ll mean more than just some legal piece of paper.”
“You can make a fake marriage certificate, Sam,” Dean rolled his eyes.
“It’s not about that,” Sam sighed, disappointed that his big brother didn’t seem as on board as he thought he’d be.
"Look," Dean sighed, feeling bad that he popped Sam's happy little bubble. "Let's just get home first, all three of us. Then we can talk about it some more, okay?"
Sam nodded, realizing maybe both Y/N and Dean needed time to stew on the idea of this being a reality. "I'm gonna go spend the night with Y/N," he said as he opened the door. "I'll see you in the morning."
When he walked back into Y/N's room and found her still asleep, he smiled warmly to himself. He carefully climbed back into bed beside her and grinned when she rolled over into his arms, sighing his name as she remained deep in her slumber. He wouldn't give up. He'd ask her again in the morning, after they'd slept and eaten, and he'd convince Dean to get on board as well.
-
When Y/N woke, she felt refreshed and better than she had since leaving the dream. She was still sore, but it was less a post-hunt ache and more a 'didn't move from the same spot for too long' pain. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, the warm glow of the sun lighting the curtains a bright orange and casting a soft glow across the room.
Sam had spent the night with her, something that made her smile. He had found her, despite not wanting to be discovered, and arrived on her doorstep confessing that he, too, harbored similar feelings. It was all too awkward and a little angry to be a dream, but she enjoyed that too. His side of the bed was empty and cold, which made her grin falter until she noticed the sheet of paper left on his pillow.
Went to get breakfast. Didn't want you to think I was gone or that it was a dream. - Sam
She huffed a laugh. It was sweet and thoughtful for him to leave a note, because she surely would have driven herself insane thinking it was all another dream. She was beginning to be able to sort things out, one life from the other, and didn't need further confusion. As she rose from the bed, she spotted another slip of paper on the dining table under the window and retrieved it after a long, satisfying stretch.
In case you didn't see my other note, I went to get breakfast. Be back soon. - Sam
She chuckled, always amused and grateful to Sam for thinking of every detail. It was possible that she wouldn't see the notes, the fan could blow them away, or that she'd wake in such a panic that she wouldn't focus on details like a note. Sam knew that, and he was proving how well he knew her through those simple little actions.
She did her morning routine in the bathroom and chuckled heartily at another note, taped to the mirror, just like the others. It told her that Sam was just as worried as she was, that maybe it wasn't real, or perhaps she didn't believe him. She sat at the dining table, the three notes laid out before her, smiling dopily as she thought about their exchange.
She distinctly remembered him asking her to marry him, but figured she was probably caught up in the moment. While she definitely wanted to explore this new thing and shared feelings between them, she wasn't going to hold him to anything he said. A small part of her worried that he'd said all he did just because he didn't want her out of his life.
The room door opened, and Sam stepped through, a bright smile on his face as his eyes met hers. He quickly closed the door, hands full of a paper bag and a tray with coffee.
"You're awake," he smiled, setting the items on the table and passing one of the two cups to her. "How do you feel?"
"Good," she smiled, breathing in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee with a happy sigh. "Haven't slept that hard in a long time."
His grin somehow grew, dimples popping, eyes shining as he stared down at her. He leaned in, cupped her cheek as his lips met hers, lingering for a second, and took the seat next to her as he began removing items from the paper bag for them. She was swooning so hard. The kiss was sweet, but the giant muffin he sat before her was even sweeter.
"So I was thinking, when you're ready, that we could head back to the Bunker," Sam said as he finished eating, smiling over at her. "Or if the Bunker makes you uncomfortable, we could head to one of Bobby's cabins, or Rufus's in Montana," he offered.
Her heart stuttered at how he was looking out for her, worried about her comfort. She was still a bit nervous about being back at the Bunker, despite having separated her lives in her mind, because she would still mourn what wasn't. But Sam seemed determined to prove to her that he loved her, that something between them could work.
"I think I want to go home," she smiled softly.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "We can go back today."
"Okay," Sam smiled, and she knew he'd be glad to have her back in the Bunker, all of them safe at home where they belonged. She balled up her trash and tossed it in the paper bag, groaning, and she rose from her seat and stretched. "I'm gonna grab a shower."
She leaned down, a hand on his shoulder, as he pecked his cheek. Sam turned his head, capturing her lips again. Now that he could kiss her, he wasn't sure he would ever stop, stealing any and every opportunity she allowed. His eyes were glued to her ass as she entered the bathroom, and he had to fight the urge to join her. He closed his eyes and took several calming breaths.
He wanted Y/N so badly. But this whole thing was new, and her nerves and mind were still raw, and he didn't want to rush anything. But he'd thought about being with her so many times, and now, it seemed just within reach. It took several long minutes to get his overeager body to relax, though his cock painfully throbbed in protest.
A short while later, the bathroom door opened, steam billowing out as Y/N emerged in only a towel, her skin and hair damp. She locked eyes with him and smiled bashfully, "Forgot to bring my bag in with me," she explained as she retrieved her duffel from the floor.
Sam's heart raced at the sight of her, and his cock hardened again, all his calming efforts gone in a flash. He wanted nothing more than to cross the room, take her in his arms, and kiss her senseless. The moment he realized he could, his feet were moved with purpose, carrying him across the room to where she stood in a few short strides.
One arm wrapped behind her back, pulling her flush against him, while the other cupped her jaw and angled her head. He crashed his lips into hers, his hunger evident as he nipped at her lip. She gasped, and he seized the opportunity, slipping his tongue into her mouth and tasting her properly.
Y/N moaned, her hands slid over his chest and shoulders as she rose to her tiptoes to kiss him back, matching his hunger. Her towel fell away, and she couldn't care less, lost in the feel of Sam's lips and his hands as they caressed her now bare skin.
He pulled back, and his eyes glazed over as he looked down at her naked body in his hands, her nipples hardening in the cool air of the room. He groaned as his hands slid up to cup her breasts, feeling the softness and weight in his large hands. He ran a thumb over a nipple, making her gasp, and he kissed her harshly as he guided her back toward the bed.
He guided her to lie back on the bed, following her down and covering her soft and naked body with his hard and fully clothed one, kissing her senseless the whole time. The contrast of his rough denim and soft flannel against her bare skin only further heightened her sensations as his hands roamed over her breasts and down her stomach, his lips over her jaw and neck.
"You're so beautiful, Baby. So damn sexy," Sam groaned against her throat, kissing his way to her lips. "Can I make you cum? Please?"
His hand lingered on her inner thigh as he waited for her permission to go further. His eyes were dark and hungry, his breath hot and teasing against her lips. She wanted him so badly, this Sam, her best friend.
"Yes," she nodded, pulling him in for another kiss.
She parted her thighs as his hand cupped her mound, relishing the warmth and wetness. She was already so incredibly aroused. Sam had that effect on her, but since he'd shown up at her doorstep, she'd been yearning for him and his touch. But this Sam, her Sam, was so very different from her imaginings or even the djinn dream. He was a bit hungrier, more demanding, his touch more sure, and it only made her squirm for more.
His long, calloused fingers ran through her folds, exploring and teasing, testing what made her release certain sounds, or made her hips jerk and swivel, what made her hands clench in his hair while his mouth kissed and sucked at her breasts, teasing at her nipples with his tongue. He was eager, wanting to prove himself, wanting to enjoy and savor her, wanting to be with her.
Once he had completed a cursory mapping, he set to work, concentrating on those sensitive areas. He slid two fingers within her, his thumb reaching to circle her clit as his mouth and free hand continued stimulating her breasts. In a matter of minutes, her body tensed as she came hard, her thighs clenching around his hand, her fingers tugging harshly at his hair. He leaned on one forearm, gazing down at her and drinking in every detail as his hand worked her through her high.
By the time he pulled from between her legs, his fingers were drenched in her cum. Holding eye contact, he lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean of her juices, his eyes fluttering closed as her tangy but sweet flavor exploded on his tongue.
"You are gorgeous like this," he praised, brushing the hair back from her flushed and relaxed face as she descended from cloud nine and back into her body. "Marry me, Y/N? Please?"
Her heart stuttered in her chest at his words and the sweet yet vulnerable look in his eyes. Before, he seemed almost manically to demand her hand. But now, and after last night, things seemed different, real, less urgent, and more them. He proposed to her with a tenderness that almost broke her heart.
“Yes,” she grinned broadly, accepting Sam’s passionate kiss, but it was over too soon for her liking. She pouted as he rose off her and pulled her off the bed to her feet. “What?”
“I wanna marry you,” he reiterated. “So that when I finally slide inside of you, make love to you the way I always wanted, have you bare and cum inside of you, I can call you my wife.”
She swooned so hard he had to catch her as her knees buckled from his sensuous words alone. His knowing chuckles were frustrating, but she also admired his confidence and resolution.
“Don’t you wanna test drive the car before you buy it?” she teased.
“I’m confident in my acquisition,” he kissed her soundly. "Get dressed."
“Wait, where are you going?” she asked, dumbfounded as he headed for the door.
“To talk to Dean,” he grinned and shrugged. "We're gonna head home, and then we have a wedding to plan," he added as he rushed out the door to Dean's room.
It was happening! Not in a dream, but for real. And while it did seem fast and she was a little unsure, Y/N knew that if they waited, anything could happen to prevent their happiness. Sam said he was all in, which was everything she’d wanted from him and with him. It was all so rushed and informal and utterly different from the dream, which somehow made it even better.
After dressing and packing up her things, Sam returned to help her pack up her car. "You and I can take your car, and Dean will lead in the Impala," he explained, and Y/N knew that in his short few minutes to his brother's room, Sam and Dean had talked about a whole lot. It was their way, their shorthand.
When she stepped outside, Dean was already there waiting. "Hey, Sweetheart," he said as he wrapped her in a warm hug.
"Hey, Dean."
"You had us worried," he said and gave her a heavy look. She glanced at Sam, who focused back on loading the car. She knew she was due for an ass chewing. "Don't ever run off on us like that again. If there's an issue, we work through it together. Yeah?"
"Yeah," she agreed, feeling heavy with guilt. She needed the time to herself to sort through things, but she could've left a note or something, much like Sam did when he went for breakfast.
He grabbed her gently by the shoulders and tilted his head to meet her eyes. "You good? Do you need some more time here to sort through things? I don't want to rush you home if you aren't ready."
She smiled genuinely and nodded to him. She wanted to be home with her family. It was infinitely better than being on her own, and she knew they cared for her as much as she did them.
"Alright," he nodded curtly, glancing at Sam. "Let's hit the road."
-
Dean was glad that Y/N was coming home with them and even happier that she and Sam could have time alone to work things out. He had to admit he was surprised when Sam rushed into his room to tell him that he'd asked Y/N to marry him. Mostly, he was surprised that Sam finally manned up and had the balls to tell the girl how he felt. He'd only been pining after her for ages.
He also worried that jumping straight to marriage was a little impulsive and spurred on both ends by the fantasy the djinn had concocted. Dean knew how hard it was to come back from that. But he also didn't want either of them to end up broken-hearted or decide they were better off as friends. He didn't think any of that was likely; they were a great match, and he'd wondered how it'd taken so long.
The downside to having a two-car traveling caravan was that Dean wasn't the only driver in control, and Sam stopped more often than Dean liked for gas or snacks, because Y/N needed the bathroom, or to stretch his legs. It was everything they asked for when Dean drove, but he refused, pushing through to reach the next location as quickly as possible. It made the already lengthy drive from Steubenville to Lebanon even longer.
Dean didn't mind being on the road, behind the wheel, blasting his favorite music and singing off-key at the top of his lungs without anyone there to criticize him. He could do it all day. But that was not the point. He groaned as his phone pinged with another text from Sam, telling him they needed to get gas. His Baby needed gas quite often, but Y/N's little beater seemed to guzzle it up.
Dean pulled into a pump, and Sam pulled up on the opposite side. "Filling up again," Dean teasingly groaned at the pair.
"I see you're getting gas," Sam sassed back.
"Might as well, since we're here," Dean shrugged, though Sam didn't need to know that Baby was running low on gas and he'd have to stop soon anyway to fill her up. Again, not the point.
Y/N smirked and pecked Sam on the lips, "Gonna go to the bathroom and get some snacks."
"Kay," he smiled, his eyes glued to her until she disappeared from his sight, and Dean was sure she had a little more sway to her hips, knowing Sam was watching. Sam shook his head, smiling as he turned his attention to pumping the gas.
"Man, you are so whipped," Dean chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the side of his car. Sam shrugged, tucking his hands in his pockets, though the smile was stuck fast on his face. "Honestly, I'm happy for you."
"Yeah?" Sam looked up at Dean with skepticism.
"Yeah, really," Dean insisted, dropping his arms to his sides.
"Didn't seem that on board with everything earlier."
"I know, I'm sorry," Dean sighed, conceding the fight. "Look, I'm not against the whole getting married thing if that's what you two really want," he tried to explain himself. "I just didn't want you two rushing into something. But if you both really want to do this, then I want to support you."
"We've been talking about it in the car," Sam said, with a slight smirk. "It's still talking with my best friend. But I'm holding her hand, and we're talking about marriage and if we think it's a good idea." The gas pump clicked, and he put the handle back, closing the fuel intake latch.
"And she pointed out that we love each other and already live together, have for years, and that we know everything about each other and our lives. I've always wanted to get married and have a family, but over time it just didn't seem possible, having to choose between hunting or starting my own family."
"But Y/N said if she learned anything from the djinn dream, it was that having a family in the hunting life is possible, and how to do it. We built a life in the safety of the Bunker, but the kids still had somewhat normal lives."
Dean smiled warmly at the image, but felt a little sadness creep in as he tried to imagine his brother out of the life, with a family, and Dean hunting alone.
"You were there," Sam said, picking up on his brother's body language. "In our lives, you still lived there, we hunted together," he explained as Dean tried to pretend he wasn't intrigued. "You were the cool and helpful Uncle," he smirked, thinking of Bobby in their own lives.
Dean smirked, then cleared his throat. "I'll call Cas," he said, ignoring Sam's look of surprise as his eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. "I'll take care of everything."
“Really?” Sam’s mood instantly improved, the smile back on his face, and Dean felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of him.
"Yeah," Dean said as he eagerly climbed into his Baby. "Rings, dress, decorations. Give me twenty-four hours. I'll meet you back at the Bunker."
"Where are you going?"
"Got a wedding to plan!" Dean shouted out the open window, tires screeching as he peeled off.
Sam eyed his brother cautiously, wary about how it would turn out if Dean were planning it all. He didn’t want bottled beers, peanut butter cups, and Zepplin IV on repeat. In the end, it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was Y/N.
"Where's he going?" Y/N asked, dropping her purchases in the car as she watched Dean disappear down the road.
"To plan the wedding, apparently," Sam shrugged, grinning as he wrapped his arms around her, happily accepting her kisses.
"Oh yeah? Should I be worried?"
"Doesn't matter," Sam spoke as he swayed with her in his arms. "As long as I get to make you my wife."
She giggled as she accepted his kisses, but pulled from his arms and ignored his pout as he tried to push her against the side of the car. She opened the passenger door, grinning at Sam's exaggerated pout.
"Uh uh," she teased. "You're the one who wanted to wait until marriage, so let's get home."
Despite her teasing, Sam was on cloud nine, grinning as he climbed in the car and drove toward home. A couple of hours into their drive, Sam began to notice that Y/N had shifted to sit sideways in her seat, her back against the passenger door as she bit her lip and stared at him with bedroom eyes.
"What?" Sam asked with a smile, his eyes flitting between her and the road.
"You are so incredibly handsome," she said, and he could almost feel her gaze as it swept over him. "So damn sexy. I never get to really look," she swooned, continuing to ogle him from her seat shamelessly. "Always so afraid of getting caught and the possible fallout from that."
"I know the feeling," he said, looking over at her and taking his own sweeping glance of her relaxed and open body. The same body he had naked under him just hours ago. Reminding himself he was driving, he turned his attention back to the road.
"I love the way your hair falls around your eyes and frames your face," she said, leaning forward. "I always wanna brush it back," she said as she used a gentle finger to sweep back his hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear, letting her fingers trail down the column of his neck.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. She smirked, her eyes locked on his angled jaw as she ran the back of her finger over the hairs there. "I love the bit of stubble you get when you've been too busy to shave for a few days." She ran her lips and cheek against his stubbled jaw, enjoying the scratch against her softer skin, and kissed the hinge of his jaw.
"I love how serious you get when researching for a case, and how excited you get when you learn something new," she added, admiring the pink that tinged his ears and cheeks.
"You do that, too," Sam smirked. "On a case, you're so serious and focused. When people are dying, you are all business. I respect that so much," he praised, admiring how she swooned. He placed a hand on her thigh, his fingers digging in as he squeezed.
His arm pressed against her chest as she leaned in, and she hummed, rubbing her fingers up and down the length of his muscled arm. "I love it when you hug me, wrap your arms around me. I feel surrounded by you, warm and safe. You're so strong, yet you can be so incredibly gentle. And your hands-"
Her hand slid over his that rested on her thigh, running over his fingers before picking it up and holding it between both of her hands, noting the significant size difference. "Your hands are one of my favorite things," she smirked.
"My hands? Really?" Sam chuckled, though she could see he was worked up from just her words, which made her swell with pride.
She held his hand, examining it with a smile as she ran her fingertips along the length of each finger. "Yeah, like how delicate they are when you turn a page. Or how dexterous when you wield a weapon," she grinned at him. "How gentle they are when you tend to my wounds and stitch me up, or how precise and deadly they can be when squeezing the life out of an enemy."
She bit her lip as she looked at him, taking note of how his breathing increased and he struggled to keep his eyes on the road. "Or when you're touching me, your fingers inside of me," she shuddered, feeling as if she were already climbing toward another orgasm, just remembering what he had done earlier. "So big and capable."
She kissed the tip of his middle finger before gently sucking on the tip, relishing his sharp intake of breath. She placed his hand back on her thigh as she leaned in and kissed along his jaw, her hand sliding down his torso to the bulge in his jeans, rubbing over the hardness beneath his denim.
"Fuuuck," Sam groaned. He absolutely loved every word she said and everything she was doing, but it was a struggle to focus on the road. He had to jerk the wheel back on course a few times as his head threatened to loll back on his shoulders.
She unfastened his jeans as she kissed along his neck, dragging her teeth against the hot and taut flesh, relishing his responding shudder. As she pulled his hard and leaking cock from its confines, Sam's head spun. He had this dream before, in which Y/N was eager for him, desperate to have him or to please him. But he was driving, and despite knowing it wasn't the safest idea, he gave only a half-hearted protest.
"Baby-"
"Eyes on the road, Sam," she teased before licking a long strip up his cock and sucking on the tip before taking him into the back of her throat with a satisfied hum.
Sam cursed, his hips bucked, and he righted the wheel again as he veered slightly out of the lane. He kept looking down between her and up at the road, fighting as his head rolled back and his eyes threatened to close. Her mouth was so warm and wet, her suction and throat tight. Fuck, it was going to take no time at all to make him cum.
After only a few short minutes of her efforts, Sam had to pull off the side of the road, ignoring the honk of the car behind him as it swerved and sped past. Throwing the car into park, he relaxed back in the seat, letting his eyes close and head fall back. One hand gripped the wheel hard, the other tangled in her hair as he came with a roar and a hiss down her throat.
She took every drop he gave, swallowing it down, before sitting back in her seat with a triumphant grin. Catching his breath, he looked at her as she wiped the corners of her mouth with her thumb, then sucked the digit clean of the remnants. Fuck, he could already feel himself hardening again from just that sight.
He tugged her in harshly by the back of the neck, kissing her hungrily and nipping at her lip. "God, I want you so bad," he said, resting his forehead against hers and holding her close.
"Then I guess we should hurry home," she teased.
He groaned, kissing her again before tucking himself away in his pants. A quick look over his shoulder, and Sam merged back onto the highway, his foot a little heavier as he rushed to get her home and struggled with his decision to wait to have her.
-
Several hours later, Sam sighed in relief as the Bunker came into view. He drove the car down the long tunnel to the underground garage and parked Y/N's car in its assigned spot. As he cut off the engine, he felt like things were slipping back into place, back into their version of normal. But the Impala was not there, and Sam quickly shot a text to his brother, who should have beaten them home.
Still doing wedding stuff. Cas is with me. Might be a couple days.
Sam chuckled at the thought of Dean and Castiel shopping for a wedding, his rough and rugged older brother and a billion-year-old celestial being, arguing over decorations and cake flavors. He glanced at Y/N, passed out in the passenger seat, and his smile shifted to something softer, warmer.
"Y/N?" He tried gently waking her by caressing her arm and shaking her lightly as she slowly woke up. "Baby, we're home."
She groaned and stretched, and Sam bit his lip as his eyes trailed over her body. It was hard enough not to just take her like he wanted, like they both wanted, especially when she'd been teasing him and driving him crazy the whole drive home. But he reminded himself that she was more than worth the wait.
"Where's Dean?" she asked as they walked inside.
"Still shopping, I guess," Sam shrugged, and Y/N chuckled.
When she turned down the hall to head to her room instead of Sam's, he paused, trying to tug her by the hand in his direction, but her feet stayed stubbornly planted as she smirked at him.
"Thought you might want to go back to sleep," Sam said, tugging her into his arms where he felt she belonged.
"I do," she said, kissing the corner of his mouth and pulling herself from his arms. "In my room."
"Okay," he said, trying not to pout over not having her in his bed. It's not like he'd been thinking about it the whole ride or anything. When he tried to move towards her room, however, he was stopped by her hand on his chest. "What?"
"I'm going to my room, and you're going to yours," she said, like it was obvious.
"Why?" Sam ignored the hint of a whine in his voice, but she didn't, as she chuckled again. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," she shook her head, that cute smile still on her face, and Sam wanted to kiss it away, kiss her senseless until she changed her mind. "We're not married yet, and we're supposed to sleep in separate rooms."
"Oh, come on!" Sam playfully complained, regretting his decision more and more, though Y/N was clearly amused by the whole thing.
"Nope," she remained steadfast. "You want the tradition and waiting til marriage and all that, so that's what we're doing."
"I change my mind," Sam quickly responded, wrapping her in his arms and kissing down her neck. "We don't have to wait."
She cupped his face and kissed him soundly, "Goodnight, Sam."
He stood in the hallway, watching her walk away, his eyes glued to her ass as her hips swayed with every step. He fought the urge to chase after her, though every muscle in his body itched to do so. He knew she was teasing him, riling him up, making him pay for the decision to wait. He hadn't anticipated just how much she wanted him, as much as he wanted her. As he went to bed alone, he texted his brother to hurry home. He wasn't sure he could handle more days of this torment.
Y/N was determined to try to make him break. Sam was notorious for his self-control, and when he was determined, he wouldn't be deterred. She saw it as a sort of challenge, and even if she couldn't break him, she could rile him up, and maybe on their wedding night she would get to see Sam snap, lose control, and claim her entirely. The thought alone sent shivers through her, and she amped up her efforts.
The first day back was pretty tame, settling back into life in the Bunker. She still felt like Y/N, like his best friend, with the added bonus that he could yank her down across his lap and kiss her silly whenever he wanted until she giggled and he finally released her.
The second day was torture, and Sam would know. It started when he woke from an intense dream that left his boxer briefs wet and sticky. Throughout the day, it seemed every little thing Y/N did was designed to draw out his torment. The way she'd walk and sway her hips or bend with her ass on display, the way she wore a low-cut top, her breasts pushed up and spilling over, the way she dropped innuendos every chance she got, or drew attention to her mouth with the tip of a pen or chewed on her finger in thought.
When she came out of the bathroom in only a towel, her hair and skin wet, her dirty laundry gripped in one hand, Sam had flashbacks to the motel. He was glad that Dean was gone as he had her cumming on his tongue and fingers multiple times in the middle of the hallway, pressed against the cool tiled wall as her screams of pleasure echoed around him, her towel and clothes forgotten.
The third day was by far the hardest, and Sam found himself wishing Dean would get home already and also that he'd stay away, 'cause Sam was sure he and Y/N would break and give in at any moment. From the time they woke up, they'd sought each other out, unable to stop touching or kissing. He'd made her cum on his fingers before coffee, and she'd nearly sucked his soul out of his body on her knees in the kitchen, thanking him for breakfast.
Sam increasingly had to fight to maintain control, desperate to fuck her hard until they both came screaming. But he forced himself to maintain control, enjoying the build-up and little bits of release. She had no idea what kind of trouble and payback she was in for when he finally had her on his cock.
By the end of the third day, though, Sam began to worry about his brother. It shouldn't take three days or more to shop for a few things, and it wasn't like they were doing anything elaborate that required reservations or anything. At least, Sam hoped that wasn't what Dean was doing. He really wasn't sure he could survive another day of wanting to bury himself balls deep inside of Y/N, or even another day to make her his wife like he'd been craving.
Turns out, he needn't worry.
A few hours after he stopped focusing on the throbbing need of his cock and started spiraling over his brother and his whereabouts, the Bunker door finally opened. Sam relaxed as soon as he heard Dean and Cas from where he now stood from his chair at the map table, though he quickly tensed again as they bickered on their descent into the War Room.
Sam chuckled and blushed in embarrassment over their marriage-like antics as the two men recounted their endeavors. Castiel complained about Dean's perfectionism, while Dean chastised Cas's color choices.
"He couldn't even help with the cakes, because he couldn't taste them," Dean laughed.
"It all just tastes like molecules," he complained, turning to Sam. "It's not very appetizing."
"No, yeah, I'm sure," Sam awkwardly replied, though he was touched by how much they seemed invested in this. "I guess I was just worried something had happened. It was a while."
Cas stared at Dean, who shrugged defensively and glared back with a silent 'what'. Cas sighed, "Dean hooked up with the bakery owner, so it took an extra night and day."
"We had chemistry," Dean defended, then smirked. "Besides, she gave me a great deal on the cake."
Cas and Sam groaned and rolled their eyes in unison.
-
It was another day and a half, nearly thirty-six hours, before Sam was putting on his suit for the wedding, and he had suffered, in one way or another, almost the entire time. In stark contrast to the last few days, Y/N insisted on a celibacy of sorts and did not allow any touch or hugs or kisses, which of course made Sam itch all the more for it, any of it, and all of her.
Then Dean came to him with an unexpected and possibly dangerous task that served as the perfect distraction, though he couldn't really be mad about it, considering how it had happened.
Dean had decided to make their wedding bands himself, from scratch. He chose angel blade metal for its durability and the white-gold sheen it gave off, and for its ability to protect them. It turns out, he needed a flame from the Forge of Heaven, which Castiel acquired, to melt and modify the metal. He was successful, and the rings were unique and stunning.
However, that left them with an eternal flame that could not be extinguished and which they figured might come in handy in the future, so Sam set out to find a way to store the ever-burning, bright-blue flame. It served as a welcome distraction while Dean assigned Castiel decorating duties with precise instructions, and took Y/N dress shopping.
Per Dean's detailed instructions, Castiel staged and decorated the area at the back of the Library, using the telescope alcove as an altar. The archway, decorated in flowers and vines, was for Castiel to stand beneath as he officiated, as Sam had requested. He had added flowers, streamers, balloons, and a plethora of decor that screamed dollar store, but was still placed with the utmost respect and attention to detail.
The Library table facing the alcove was also decorated with a small, simple two-tier wedding cake featuring generic male and female characters that bore no resemblance to Sam and Y/N, perched atop the frosted surface. Again, a detail that didn't matter to Sam but mattered to Dean and might matter to Y/N. What did matter to Sam was the thought and effort that went into everything.
Just like how Dean had been thoughtful enough to take Y/N shopping for a dress appropriate for the occasion, though Sam didn't think she owned a dress of any kind. He had told Sam that they found a beauty on the clearance rack at a small boutique in town, and that he and Y/N had a heart-to-heart. Sam was worried about what that meant and even more worried his brother might have given her a speech, but Dean wouldn't tell him and said it was between them, which Sam respected.
As she walked through the Library up to where the others waited for her, escorted by Dean, she looked like she walked right out of a dream in a dress made just for her. He thought maybe they had found an old prom dress or something, but she was stunning in a beautiful wedding gown. All Sam could see was the woman of his dreams ready to marry him, and he fought back the tears of overwhelming emotion that threatened him.
Y/N wasn't faring any better, on the verge of happy tears since Dean linked his arm with her to walk her to where Sam waited. She was more than surprised by how on board he was with everything, despite the rushed timeline, but she knew he, too, understood the importance of seizing the moment amid their uncertain lives.
As her eyes landed on Sam, wearing his fed suit and standing at the makeshift altar, her smile grew so wide it nearly hurt. It was far simpler and smaller than their wedding in the dream, which had been lavish and in a church. In retrospect, it probably should have raised a few warning flags in the dream, but she supposed acceptance was part of the venom at work.
Despite all that, it was more perfect than anything she could have dreamed up, because it was real, and Sam was waiting to be her husband. By the time they’d finished their vows and sealed them with a kiss, they were both silently crying tears of unrelenting joy. They kept it simple, neither of them artistic writers in any sense.
“I love you, Mrs. Winchester,” Sam teased with a grin, their foreheads pressed together as he cupped her face and breathed her in.
“I love you, too, Mr. Winchester,” she cheekily responded, and they laughed together.
They danced and laughed and drank and ate cake, and the four of them talked about what they'd endured to get here and what the future might hold, made even more special by sharing it with their closest friends and family, Dean and Castiel. Though she'd be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to the wedding night, alone with Sam, to connect and be together fully. It didn't help that Sam couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself; he always needed to hold, touch, or kiss her. She didn't mind, wanting it all the more, especially since they were allowed.
“Alright, you two,” Dean clapped his hands and grinned. “I packed a couple of bags in one of the cars for you.”
“You did?” Sam asked, confused. “Why?”
“Well, since I’m such an awesome brother, and technically the best man, I got you two a honeymoon suite for a few days. Here,” Dean handed over a slip of paper to Sam that had an address written on it.
“Dean, thank you,” Sam responded, genuinely grateful for all his brother had done to help make this happen. Dean loved Y/N too, like family, and to have him on board and so invested meant more to Sam than he could say.
“Yeah, yeah.” Dean waved them off.
As they hit the road, Sam interlocked their fingers, smiling over at her and admiring how stunning she was in her wedding dress, makeup, and hair. She was gorgeous and happy and all his. Dean had booked a honeymoon suite at a quaint, niche hotel in Overland Park, about four hours away. Dean had apparently discovered it while cake shopping and while planning other aspects of the wedding.
Sam had made his own plans for the long drive to keep things interesting and drive them both a little crazy. It was already dark outside, so he wasn't worried about being discovered, plus the roads were mostly empty as they drove the almost three hundred miles to the hotel. He kissed the back of her hand and released it as he smiled wickedly at her.
"Wanna play a little game?"
She smirked at his teasing tone, knowing he already had something wicked and probably delicious in mind. "What kind of game?"
"Hike up your dress for me," he nodded toward her flowing skirt, tucked into the passenger wheel well. It wasn't fluffy or big, but there was still a lot of it. When she complied, he bit his lip, seeing her thigh-high stockings, her garter, and the silky panties she wore. It was all white and smooth, shining prettily against her skin.
She parted her legs and looked over at him with an exaggerated, innocent pout, "Like this?"
She was so incredibly sexy, and despite how turned on he was, he was determined to work her up. With his left hand on the wheel, he moved his right to her panty-covered center and rubbed her through the thin and slick fabric. He focused on her clit, lowering down to tease at her entrance, and back up, but did not touch her skin directly.
She squirmed and moaned in the passenger seat, her legs spreading wider as her body silently begged for more, her hips canting against his hand. It didn't take long for her to start panting, showing the signs that she was nearing her release. Before she could get there, Sam removed his hand and sucked his fingers before placing them back on the wheel, smiling over at her with a shit-eating grin.
It took her a minute to catch her breath and realize what had happened. She was so close to cumming and Sam just stopped entirely. She looked over at him with a real pout, ready to vocalize her protests.
"Why did you stop?"
"Because I'm gonna keep edging you until we get there," he said.
"Seriously?"
She'd never done such a thing before, and the thought of it sounded like torture. But she could also see how hard Sam was just from fingering her while driving. It was torture for both of them, and if she thought she was desperate for him now…
"Okay," she agreed, fixing her skirt to at least cover her panties until he was ready to go again. But she had her own ideas of returning that torment.
Over the course of the drive, Sam had edged her another three times, one for each passing hour of their trip. Her panties were ruined, completely soaked through with her arousal. Sam had teased and fucked her pussy with his fingers every way he could from his position, leaving her desperate and whiny each time. And every time, he had to stop, curse, and grip his cock tight through his slacks.
Because every time he played with her, aroused her, and teased her, she retaliated with words. She told him how good it felt, how good he was to her, how much she wanted his cock, to feel him fuck her nice and deep. She begged him to pull over, to let her cum on his cock, ride him until they were both satisfied, though she knew he wouldn't. He clenched his jaw, stared at the road, and tried to pretend he wasn't as affected as he was.
When they finally arrived in Overland Park, they pulled into a surprisingly upscale hotel, and both Sam and Y/N were riled up to the point of breaking. Check-in was easy, as Dean had already registered and paid. Sam grabbed their bags from the trunk and wrapped his free arm around her waist as he guided them to their room for the next few days.
“Here we are,” Sam grinned, setting down their bags and unlocking the door. The room was large and beautiful, though clearly decorated for romance. His brother seemed to go all out, the bed covered in rose petals and a bottle of champagne waiting in a bucket.
Before Y/N could enter, Sam scooped her into his arms, pecking her lips before carrying her over the threshold and into the suite. He set her on her feet as she giggled, and he rushed to retrieve their bags before he kicked the door shut with his foot and dropped the bags haphazardly to the floor.
Y/N looked around the room, the king-sized bed the center of attention, complete with satin sheets and a cushioned, heart-shaped headboard. She flushed at the sight of the large mirrored ceiling just above the bed and turned to meet Sam's eyes. She shouldn't have been surprised; it was very on brand for Dean's idea of romance, but despite the tackiness, it all seemed more than perfect.
Sam smirked as he removed his jacket and tie, laying them over one of the chairs. He opened the bottle of champagne, and Y/N jumped at the sudden, loud pop of the cork, giggling as the bubbles overflowed and Sam cursed under his breath, struggling to contain the mess. He carefully poured two flute glasses, returned the bottle to the bucket filled with ice, and handed her one.
"To us?" Sam asked, holding his glass up for a toast.
Y/N grinned and held her glass the same, "To finally giving ourselves a chance?"
"To the family we'll make together," he added with a smirk.
They toasted and sipped, and the room grew quiet and a little awkward, neither of them sure what to do next, though they both had the same idea of where it would lead. Y/N downed her drink in a few sips, and Sam threw his back quickly, setting their glasses to the side on the table.
Y/N giggled in delight as Sam took her into his arms again, held her close, and kissed her passionately. His large, warm hands covered most of her back as he pressed their bodies together, unwilling to part for long, eager to make her his completely.
She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she and Sam were in love and married. It was like a dream. Well, no, she’d had this dream, and reality was much better. She grinned cheekily as her hands ran over his shoulders, and with his tie and jacket gone, it was no effort to start unbuttoning his shirt.
Sam grinned into the kiss that seemed to keep going, parting long enough to catch a quick breath, before meeting again and again. More than ready and a little impatient, Sam ripped his shirt open, surprising Y/N as the buttons flew across the room.
“Your shirt!” she giggled against his hungry mouth.
“I’ll buy a new one,” he chuckled, his now bare torso pressed against her.
She couldn’t complain as they continued hastily removing each other’s clothes. She had seen bits and pieces of Sam throughout their time together, but never all of him, and never where she was allowed to look and touch. Her hands and eyes were frantic as she roamed every inch of exposed flesh Sam offered to her. He was firm and warm and smooth, her hands enjoying every line and dip, her mouth and tongue teasing behind each caress.
Sam, too, couldn’t slow his movements or actions, almost starving and desperate to have her naked and writhing beneath him. He’d imagined it so many times and in so many ways. Now that the moment was upon him, he couldn’t decide where to start.
“My beautiful Wife,” Sam uttered once they were completely bare. She swooned, and he chuckled, picked her up, laid her back on the bed, and followed her down all in one fluid motion. Sam’s display of strength made her moan and grab onto him tightly, feeling his muscles flex beneath her hands.
“My handsome Husband,” she returned reverently. “I love you, Sam.”
“I love you, too, Y/N,” he whispered, kissing her deeply.
She parted her thighs, assuming he'd just go for it like nearly every man she'd been with before - not that there were many - but he surprised her as his lips moved down her neck, and his fingers expertly found her clit.
"Sam!" she cried as he slid two fingers into her core, his thumb continuing to toy with her sensitive button.
"Mmm, love that sound," he hummed against the swell of her breast, before taking a nipple between his lips and flicking it with his tongue. She released a shocked, high-pitched moan, and he grinned up at her. She was embarrassed by how close she was to coming already. "That sound was even better."
His voice was thick with arousal as he kissed his way down her body, spreading her thighs wider with his large hands, making room for his broad shoulders as he leveled his face with her pussy. His eyes glistened with hunger as he licked his lips. It was the hottest thing she'd ever seen.
His eyes fluttered shut as he opened his mouth wide and licked a broad stripe from her entrance to her clit, and back down, delving deep inside of her with a vibrating moan. With his tongue lapping at her sensitive walls and his nose rubbing perfectly at her clit, she came screaming. Sam sucked her clit hard as he slid his fingers inside her again, working her through the intense orgasm.
He reluctantly pulled himself away from her center, kissing up her body. He was rewarded by the sight of her: skin flushed, a light sheen of sweat, hair wild, and panted breaths. She was stunningly beautiful, better than he'd imagined, and he felt a swell of pride knowing he did that.
When her eyes finally opened and looked at him, he grinned at the intense lust and love he found in their depths. She ran her fingers through his hair, grabbed fistfuls in each hand, and tugged him down to crash their lips together in a sloppy and hungry kiss. The head of his cock rubbed between her folds and bumped against her clit as his hips ground into hers, making her buck needily beneath him.
He dropped his gaze between them, gripped his cock in his hand, and ran it through her folds, teasing her entrance and spreading her wetness as she bucked and whined.
"Can I have you just like this?" Sam asked, keeping up the teasing to enjoy her desperate struggle. "Can I come inside of you?"
Sam's deep, breathy voice made her moan; his hips and cock made her desperate for him just to take her. But despite her long-held breeding kink and Sam's utterly sensuous words, she had to maintain some sensibility.
"I'm not on anything, Sam."
He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers in a gentle and intimate gesture that made her heart flutter. "I know," he whispered, a slight tremor in his voice. "I'm not saying we try," he flashed a crooked smirk. "But maybe we just…let things happen?"
Her hips bucked sharply, and Sam grinned as he continued teasing the bulbous head through her drenched folds. She cupped his face and kissed him deep and slow, barely able to control her lustful reaction to his decree.
"I wanna feel you, Sam," she said, tilting her hips to try and encourage him inside. Reaching a hand between them, Sam lined up and slid deep within her warm and wet core in one smooth and slow stroke. They broke the kiss only to gasp into each other's open mouths the moment he bottomed out.
Sam was longer and thicker than anything she'd experienced before, stretching her wide and reaching deep to caress areas she'd never felt. She shouldn't have been surprised, as everything about Sam was large. But he'd managed to exceed her fantasies and the dream.
He took in every detail of her face and body, caressing her sides to soothe her as she adjusted to the intrusion. He was in awe, disbelieving that this was finally happening. They were married, and his bare cock was buried against her cervix, ready for him to make her his completely.
Testing, he adjusted his hips and gently nudged forward, watching her face for every little detail. She smirked and wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, and braced herself. Sam pulled out slowly, then thrust forward swiftly, repeating the action as she gasped and moaned.
He fell into a steady pace, a rock and grind as he pressed deep within her on each thrust. He wanted her to feel every inch of him, now and later. It took a great deal of effort for Sam to remain slow, to draw out the moment and sensations instead of claiming her hard and rough as his lust demanded.
Y/N was losing her mind. With his mouth and fingers, Sam brought her immense pleasure. The feeling of him inside of her, making her hyper aware of every movement, feeling his muscles flex, tense with restraint. Her mind reminded her that he was hers entirely, and she was his.
Sam shifted his hips and found the spot inside that made her gasp and cling to him desperately. He tried again, grinning once he realized. Increasing his pace, he rubbed her clit with his thumb, moaning when she clenched around him, and her eyes widened.
"Sam!" It was part surprise, part a desperate plea. It was so intense, so good, that it bordered on too much.
"It's okay," he soothed. "I got you. I'm right here. Trust me, just let go." He was desperate for it, to feel her clenching and squeezing his cock as she reached her climax. A few more thrusts, and she exploded as his cock hit that right spot inside of her.
"Sam!"
Planting his hands on either side of her head, Sam allowed his need to drive him, fucking her hard and fast as he could manage, extending her high while chasing his own. When he finally came with a long and loud roar, he pressed his hips firmly against hers, letting his cum flow deep, before his hips continued a slow and lazy thrusting to draw it out.
Slowly withdrawing, he knelt between her parted legs, taking in every detail as they both caught their breath. Her skin was flushed and sweaty, adorned with minor marks from his fingers or mouth. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breaths, her breasts shaking with the effort. Her pussy was swollen, her hole stretched, but what really caught his eye was the white cum - his cum - dripping out of her.
He groaned, bracing one hand on her thigh as the other scooped up the dripping and pushed them back inside with two fingers. She whimpered, and Sam couldn't resist, fitting back between her legs as he slid deep within her a second time. They were both sensitive, but Y/N eagerly welcomed him as he set a quick pace with short thrusts, and their sensitivity brought mutual orgasms much faster than before.
Finally spent and satisfied, Sam withdrew and stumbled to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. He dampened the fabric and returned to the bed, shushing her as he gently cleaned her up. Once satisfied, he quickly wiped himself and tossed the cloth aside. He climbed back into the bed, drawing Y/N into his arms, and she went willingly, her body lax as he curled himself around her.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she grinned, forcing her eyes open and head back to meet his gaze and smiling face. "That was amazing."
"You're amazing," he replied. Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes, playfully slapping his chest and snuggling back into him. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she whispered as she quickly fell to sleep.
-
Y/N sighed as she stood in the kitchen, finishing the dishes from lunch, and gazing out the window. The sun shone brightly on the large, old oak in the front yard, and she smiled at the four children running around the tree, the smallest and youngest barely able to walk, let alone keep up. She sighed and stretched, a hand on the curve of her back for support as she did. Their fifth child was growing fast within her belly, and she only had two months before they'd get to meet them.
As she went to the front porch to call in the children, they all erupted into cheers, jumping up and down, as Uncle Dean's black Impala sped down the long dirt driveway towards their small farmhouse. As soon as she'd discovered she was pregnant with their first child, Sam insisted on finding them a home, outside of the Bunker, where the kids would have windows and a yard.
Though he still commuted to the Bunker to prepare for cases or handle other hunting-related issues, they found a place just outside the Lebanon town limits and, with Dean's help, bought it and fixed it up. Now it was home, and Dean had his own guest room too, since he often slept over or stayed for dinner or family events. He was very active in the children's lives, just as their father was.
The Winchester Brothers climbed out of the parked Impala, massive smiles gracing their faces as the kids bombarded them with excited greetings, hugs, and prattle about their time apart. They all tackled and dogpiled on Dean before Sam could even get a hello from each other. He feigned offense before turning his attention to his beautiful, pregnant wife on the porch of their home.
"Hello, Wife," Sam grinned, cupping her large belly with one big hand as he kissed her tenderly.
"Hello, Husband," Y/N responded, smiling through the kiss. She was always happy when they returned from a hunt, especially when they were uninjured. Many times, it wasn't the case when Sam came home broken, and the reunion was anything but happy. So she always appreciated the better moments when they happened.
"How are my girls?" Sam asked, kneeling and using both hands as the baby began kicking.
"Good," Y/N smiled down at him, running her fingers through his hair. "She missed you, too, it seems," she sighed as the kicks grew rapid and harder.
"Go easy on your Mom, Baby," Sam spoke to her belly, grinning when the child settled. He stood back on his feet and wrapped his arms around her, pecking her lips again and again. "Do you need anything? Dean's gonna entertain the kids for a little while so I can take care of you. Whatever you want."
"Whatever I want?" she replied sultrily, biting her lip. "I want a bath, a massage, and a nap," she admitted with a chuckle.
Sam laughed with her. "Done," he said, pecking her lips and guiding her inside their home.
Life was better and more real than any djinn dream or fantasy could ever be. And neither the djinn nor her own mind really understood that Sam had a breeding kink and just how much he loved seeing her pregnant. But as long as she had support and financial means to care for them properly, she'd have all the kids with him. Sam - her best friend, her husband, the father of her children, and the love of her life - was a dream come true.
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Winning the internet
Dream A Little Dream
Summary: During a Djinn hunt, Y/N gets captured and struggles to reconcile her dream world with reality. But maybe, she doesn't have to.
Characters: Sam Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex), Mentions of Children/Pregnancy, Mentions of Loss
WC: 21,724
A/N: I've been sitting on this since December 2025, trying to figure out how to break it into smaller pieces, but I couldn't find a way that made me happy. So it's a super long oneshot, sorry about that. But I ADORE this fic, worked a really long time on it, and I'm so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy! : )
My Masterlist
"Pretty sure it's a djinn."
Sam's words hung in the heavy silence of the motel room. Dean's eyes widened at the mention of the creature. They were both too serious and quiet, and Y/N briefly wondered if they had lost someone to one of these monsters before.
"Like a genie?" she asked for clarification. "Like, granting wishes?"
"Not exactly," Dean muttered, his attention on the hunting duffel that contained their weapons as he searched for something specific.
"And we think it's in this abandoned factory?" She asked, readying herself for the hunt.
"Yeah," Sam nodded and swallowed hard as he cast a wary side glance at his brother. "You sure you're up for this?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Yeah, Y/N thought, why wouldn't Dean be up for a hunt? They had all been itching for some action after a period of unusual inactivity across the nation. The second they'd heard of people showing up dead and emaciated in Steubenville, Ohio, they'd piled into the Impala and onto the road, ready to save people and hunt things. After all, it was what they did, the three of them, together.
It was a sixteen-hour drive from the Bunker to the southern region of Ohio, but Dean managed the thousand-mile trip in just under thirteen-and-a-half hours, despite the many stops for gas and snacks. With a steady stream of classic rock from his many cassettes and local stations, Dean's good spirits made the drive seem easy and quicker.
They all got along really well, like family, and had been hunting and living together for a few years. She loved the long drives and enjoyed every minute she got to spend with the brothers, relaxed and free, their guard down and banter flowing. They often teased each other, and Y/N too, and she gave as good as she got. Though it always grated her nerves a bit when Dean landed on his go-to favorite taunt of Sam and Y/N just getting together already. They'd always tease him back and deny any chance of that ever happening—that one hurt.
Because the truth was that Y/N was secretly head-over-heels in love with her closest and best friend, Sam Winchester—emphasis on secretly. And when Dean hit a little too close to home, and Sam vehemently denied it, her heart cracked a little more. But she couldn't tell him. He clearly wasn't into her like that, and she was genuinely grateful for their friendship. She didn't want to ruin the good thing they all had going, and she certainly didn't want to make things awkward when Sam inevitably rejected her.
Sam was kind, thoughtful, intelligent, funny, charming, handsome, and everything she could ever dream of or hope for in this life and beyond. But she was happy to sit in the backseat and silently observe him and admire him when he wasn't looking. Though Dean, the ever observant man that he was, noticed every time and indulged in silently teasing her with taunting smirks through the rear-view or across the room. She was sure she struggled to hide it from him, but somehow Sam never noticed, and for that, she was glad.
Dean amped up the teasing as they spent nearly a week interviewing police and witnesses, family members and loved ones, digging deep into news and archives, and researching late into the night until they finally cracked the case. A week of close quarters with Sam, working beside him as Dean chased down other leads, and enduring Dean's relentless teasing and tormenting of their non-existent love lives.
She was sure Sam would figure her out, and his constant and sometimes angry rejection of Dean's claims only further reminded her why she stayed silent to begin with. He was her best friend; she was head-over-heels in love with him, and that was all it would ever be.
Dean gathered three silver knives from his bag, retrieved a jar of lamb's blood he'd acquired, and dipped each knife into the blood before handing them over, reviewing the plan of action for hunting the djinn creature.
"Stab it through the heart?" Y/N asked, a little grossed out by the animal's blood coating an otherwise pretty and shiny blade.
"Has to be the heart," Sam nodded in affirmation, smirking at her disgust and chuckling when she childishly stuck her tongue out at him in response.
Standing outside the large and looming abandoned factory, the three hunters reviewed the blueprints Dean had laid out on the hood of the Impala.
"Looks like there are three points of entry here, here, and here," Dean pointed on the paper before rolling it up. "I think we should split up, cover more ground."
"Maybe we should stick together on this one?" Sam firmly suggested.
Y/N could see the uncertainty he had. It wasn't unusual for them to split up on hunts, but Sam always argued against it. Maybe he was still worried about Dean and the past she assumed he had with these creatures.
"It'll go faster if we split up," Y/N sided with Dean. "We know what to look for and what to do," she added with a reassuring smile, patting Sam on the arm. His look of concern almost made her second-guess her decision, but Dean clapped his hands together with finality and broke them from their silent stare.
"Alright, let's gank this S.O.B."
The three hunters moved, weapons at the ready, to their separate entrances. Y/N cast Sam one last reassuring smile over her shoulder before the brothers disappeared around the side of the building. She started on her route, blade in one hand and flashlight in the other, as she wandered through halls, checking rooms and looking for any sign of activity. It was quiet and dark, except for the occasional rodent or insect that shifted through the debris of the rotting building.
After several minutes of searching and finding nothing, she wondered if the boys were doing any better, though she couldn't hear any sounds of an altercation. However, that didn't say much, since the building was quite large, with several stories. It was always a little harder for her and Dean to traverse large buildings like this. Sam always fared better because he worked out regularly and had incredible stamina for these things.
As her mind settled on Sam, it drifted from her surroundings into her thoughts. Maybe she should take a chance and tell him how she felt. It seemed like, throughout the case, that perhaps something was shifting between them. But that could also be her imagination, and she didn't want to make things awkward. Despite her deliberations, she still concluded that it was a lost cause. She didn't have time to regret her lack of attention to her surroundings until it was too late.
She heard the shuffling from behind her and turned to face it, a split-second too late as the unknown assailant hit her hard, knocking her to the ground. She turned to see a man, covered in strange tattoos and rags, eyes glowing bright blue as he reached for her. She kicked out with all her strength, landing a blow to the man's stomach as he stumbled back into the wall.
Jumping to her feet, she readied her blade, lunging forward to strike a deadly blow. But the man - creature, her mind provided - grabbed her wrist, his strength more than human, and he grappled with Y/N until their positions were switched. She was pinned against the wall, the knife knocked from her hand.
He had one hand squeezing tightly around her throat, while the other lit up with blue magic as she struggled to keep his splayed hand from touching her. The blue light seemed to grow brighter as his hand grew closer. His touch burned as it came into contact with her forehead, and she felt her body go lax before she blacked out.
-
Sam had a sinking feeling in his gut from the moment they discovered it was a djinn. When Dean suggested splitting up, that feeling grew into a suffocating black hole, and he feared that one of them would fall victim to this monster in one way or another. He hoped that if that were true, it was him. He couldn't bear to witness the loss, sadness, and torment in his brother's eyes again, living a life that he denied himself, a life that could never be. He especially couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to Y/N.
He was never eager or willing to split up on a case, even though he and Dean were forced to do so often. But when it came to Y/N, he never wanted her out of his sight, if he could help it. He knew that was creepy, especially since he was nothing more than a friend to her. A best friend, sure, but still a friend nonetheless.
He wished they could be more, but he could never find his courage or the right words. Dean had clocked him right from the start on his love-at-first-sight feelings for her, which he did his best to hide and contain. Luckily, she never seemed to notice, but Dean wouldn't relent. Y/N was everything to him, and he knew he was nowhere near good enough to give her the life she deserved. Nor was he brave enough to tell her how he truly felt.
He had tried to gather the courage at the small diner in town, where Dean kept rambling on about the burgers and the fact that it was a bar and diner in one, which he acted like was the greatest thing he'd ever seen. But Y/N was all business and urging Dean to focus on the case. Sam knew he wouldn't get anywhere.
He thought he'd try again at the motel, but Dean was insistent on sharing local facts about the town - like it was the birthplace of Dean Martin, which Sam had to admit was cool - to get out of researching, but once again, Y/N was insistent that they needed to focus. People were dying, and they needed to find the monster responsible. Sam really admired that about her, how focused and determined she became during a case.
He had another, seemingly perfect, opportunity as he and Y/N decided to walk along the Ohio River, where one of the victim's bodies had been found. As soon as the words climbed to the back of his throat, Y/N was focused on identifying several buildings upstream where the body could have originated. It felt like everything and everyone was working against him, and in the end, he decided maybe he should keep it to himself.
Another empty hallway, another series of rooms full of furniture, debris, and small critters skittering about, but no djinn in sight. It didn't even look like there was an encampment anywhere, or that feet had disturbed these halls for some time.
He briefly thought about what might happen if he were caught by the djinn, what that world might look like. What would be waiting for him? Would Y/N be there? Would they have an everyday life? What would that even look like?
As he rounded the corner in a hallway, completing the search of his assigned sector, he was relieved to see his brother approach him from the other end, shrugging. The feeling of unease lessened as neither he nor Dean found any sign of the djinn or victims. After a minute, and no sign of Y/N, the feeling returned tenfold.
"She should be here by now," Sam spoke through clenched teeth, pacing the intersection of hallways that Y/N should have come through, but there was no sign or sound of anything approaching their location.
"She's probably fine, just got turned around or something," Dean tried to reassure, though he didn't have a good feeling either. He didn't want to let his overgrown, emotional little brother know that, especially since he was already beginning to spiral into aggressive panic.
They continued through the halls, into her search area, but still found nothing. Frustrated, Sam pulled out his cell and called her number. Both their heads snapped toward the sound of her ringing cell just down the hall from their location.
It didn't take long for them to find her phone on the ground, ringing with Sam's unanswered call. Dean picked up the phone and sighed, stuffing it into his pocket as Sam ended the call and put his phone away. They both searched the immediate area, but there was no sign of her or the creature anywhere in sight.
"We have to find her," Sam declared, tugging at his hair as he continued walking her search path in reverse, checking every room, nook, and cranny he came across for any sign of her.
"I know," Dean answered, not so helpfully as he followed his brother, also searching for any clue, but there wasn't a trace. Not even footprints, other than hers, were coming in that they could track.
"She couldn't have just disappeared!" Sam was moving faster, sweating, his muscles and veins bulging as he searched with fruitless desperation. They searched every hall, room, and floor of the building, but found nothing, reluctantly returning to the Impala.
"We need to get her back," Sam said, looking on the verge of tears as he glanced around at the many other empty buildings.
"We will," Dean insisted, though he wasn't so sure himself. "Even if we have to search every damn building in this town, Sam. We'll get her back."
Dean did his best to remain calm as Sam freaked out, and they worked together to find her and the creature. Sam started wondering if this was the case that tore them all apart, the one that took her away from them for good.
-
The Bunker door opened and closed with loud creaks and an echoing bang, the sound a signal that Sam and Dean had returned from their hunt. It was always hard to wait at the Bunker as they went on hunts, always worried if they'd make it back home alive and in one piece. It was hard to stay away from hunting, not to go with them as she used to, but life had changed, and she was willing to adapt.
It started after the djinn case, where she had been knocked loopy by the creature, but Sam and Dean had arrived in the nick of time to save her from the monster's hallucinogenic venom. Sam was so worried, cupping her face and scooping her into his arms as they fled the factory the djinn called home. He'd carried her to the Impala and checked over every inch of her body for injuries, but she was fine.
It was then he'd grabbed her with gentle and unsteady hands and kissed her with all his buried emotions. He'd confessed his love for her, and she returned the sentiment with tears in her eyes. It was something she never thought possible, but eight years later, they were still together, building a happy life together.
She had moved into Sam's room with him, at his insistence, and it grew to what was now their room. A few doors down from that, Sam had cleaned out one of the spare storage rooms and converted it into a nursery. Then, they did the same for more rooms as more children grew and needed their own spaces. He and Dean worked hard to make the Bunker a home, one more safe than any house he could ever provide, where they raised their beautiful little family. Still a team, the three of them. Well, plus the kids.
As Sam's feet came off the steps, he was nearly tackled by the two small boys who attacked him with hugs and joy at his return, and she was reminded why she joyfully agreed to give it all up.
"Hey, guys," Sam smiled, picking up one child in each arm, hugging and kissing them relentlessly. "Were you good for your Momma?"
Y/N smiled, waiting for her turn as he greeted their children. Once he set them back on their feet, they dogpiled on their uncle, and Sam chuckled, turning his attention to Y/N. "Hello, Wife."
"Hello, Husband," Y/N smiled as Sam kissed her deeply, a hand finding her rounded belly. Sam never missed an opportunity to call her 'wife', and she relished the loving look on his face every time he did, followed by a hungry look when she responded with 'husband'. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too, Baby. So much. How are you doing?" he asked, rubbing her belly. She couldn't help the broad grin. Sam was always so worried and attentive towards her and their children, and she always felt blessed to call him hers.
"We're good," she promised. "Just glad you're back."
The sounds of the children and Dean at play suddenly fell silent. She turned her attention from Sam to where the others were playing, but they were gone. She briefly wondered if they had skittered off while she was distracted with Sam, but when she looked back to him with a questioning gaze, he, too, looked different.
Where before he seemed happy and clean, now he looked worried and dirty. The Bunker seemed to flash in and out, replaced by a dank, dark, dilapidated building. The flashing images before her made her disoriented, and she swayed on her feet.
"Y/N?" Sam's voice shook with worry as he cupped her face, the image of him changing more rapidly between happy and concerned, put together and disheveled. "Y/N, come on. Come back to me."
"Sam? What's happening?"
"Y/N-" his voice sounded like it was coming through water as her vision tunneled, black creeping in on the edges.
Her body ached fiercely, and she looked down at her now flat stomach with panic. As she tried to run her hands over her stomach, she couldn't move; her arms were held by something. She could feel Sam shaking her with urgency, and she wanted to demand that he stop, but she couldn't make herself speak, either, only a pained squeak passing her lips. Then, everything went black.
-
"Y/N?"
Everything hurt, and there was a relentless pounding behind her eyelids. Y/N forced herself to sit up, one hand gripping her aching head, an involuntary groan punched from her lungs at the tremendous effort it took to move.
"Whoa, hey, go slow."
It was Sam's reassuring voice, his large, warm hands on her shoulders, and she instantly relaxed at the familiarity of his touch. Whatever had happened, Sam was here with her, protecting her. Without opening her eyes, she leaned forward and tucked her head beneath his chin as she so often did. But his arms hesitated to hold her in the way she was accustomed.
Confused, she pulled from his hold and forced her sore eyes to open and look at him. He was the worried, dirtied, and sweaty Sam that had flashed in and out of her mind. She looked down at herself, absolutely filthy, and ran a shaky hand over her empty belly. A broken gasp fell from her parted lips as she released a pained cry.
"My children," she stuttered, wild eyes locked on Sam's comically widened ones. "My baby! Sam, where are the kids?"
As she started to spiral into panic, Sam looked to Dean for help, but he, too, was stunned at her outburst. "You don't have any kids, Y/N," Sam responded, his heart sinking further as she shook her head in denial and tears streamed rapidly down her face.
She froze and whispered a broken, "No," before she sobbed heartily.
Sam didn't know what to do but hold her, wrapping his arms tightly around her and trying to soothe her, but it didn't seem to help. Whatever she'd experienced in that damn djinn world was hurting her in ways he didn't know how to heal. When Dean had been captured, it took months before he seemed himself again, but Sam suspected he never really got over it.
He couldn't bear to think what she had lost, what sort of perfect life she was forced to leave behind, though he was curious. Did she settle down with some civilian who gave her the life she deserved? Two and a half kids, a dog, and a white-picket fence? All things he desperately wanted to give her, but was sure he never could. Whatever it was, it was tearing her apart. Sam cast a pleading look to his brother, someone who could understand and maybe help.
"Took us a few days to find you," Dean said, his voice layered with anger and apology, and she knew he was blaming himself. "That bastard knocked you out and took you to another building. So we searched them all until we found you."
"The djinn got me?" she said, less a question and more a statement.
It made sense, she realized, since their research and the brothers' knowledge told her that the djinn poisoned people, siphoned off their life while they rotted away in a magical, hallucinatory dream world. It took them days to find her - days - and she surely would have died if the trusty Winchesters hadn't found her just in time and brought her back to the motel.
It was a dream. All of it. Being married to Sam, having a family together. It was everything she had wanted, and it was all a dream, induced by the venom of a creature. It would haunt and torment her the rest of her days.
They hovered over her, as if they could make her okay just by being close. It made her uneasy and uncomfortable, an unfamiliar feeling with the brothers that she’d long called friends and companions. Dean was still Dean, in the dream and in reality, but she couldn't look Sam in the eye; she couldn't speak to him or interact with him directly.
The dream world from which she’d been ripped still lingered in her mind and ached her heart, and she couldn't bear to look at Sam, knowing he wasn't her Sam. Not in the way that she had become used to. Because even though it had been a few days, it had been years in her mind. In the next moment, she buried her head in her hands as harsh sobs tore from her. Her husband, her children, and the life that she cherished were gone in an instant.
Dean understood, more than Sam could, about how much a djinn world could mess with your mind and emotions, playing on the things you wanted most, and leaving you bereft once free. All she truly wanted was to disappear back into that world where everything was perfect.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam offered, but she shook her head frantically. How the hell could she put it all into words and speak those words to him? “Okay. Do you feel well enough for the drive home?”
Home. That word now held a different meaning for her, especially from Sam’s lips. She couldn’t look at Sam, shying away from his touch and nearness, depending heavily on Dean, who was more than willing to be there for whatever she needed. Y/N was more than just a friend; she was family, and a cornerstone to their little trio.
He also knew Sam was hurting as she turned away from him, refusing any comfort from the friendship that just days ago had Dean wishing the two of them would get together already, despite their constant denial of anything more, or the insecurities that had them both believing it wasn’t possible.
It didn't stop Sam from trying at every moment to help Y/N, either by supporting her weak body as they packed into the car, trying to engage her in conversation, or picking her favorite snacks when they stopped for food and gas. Each time, she barely uttered a sound and never met his eyes, and Sam did his best to hide the pain of her distance.
Just Sam's presence was like a knife twisting in her heart, because it wasn't her Sam, her husband Sam. He was still himself, and that, too, made it difficult, because he was so sweet and caring. But every little thing only reminded her of what she'd lost, of what could never be, and she felt as though she were dying a little more inside with every passing second.
As Sam helped her weakened body into the car, she had a flash of when she went into labor with their first child. He had held her much the same way, guiding her into the car while he panicked and tried to focus on the birthing plan they'd put in place. It was amazing how quickly his rational mind disappeared when his emotional mind could only focus on 'baby coming'.
Because of that, and her body still weak from being captured and strung up for days, she opted to sleep in the backseat for most of the long drive home. Sam kept looking over the seat at her with concern, especially as she grew fitful time and again, likely fighting whatever torment she'd endured in her mind. When she was awake and chose to speak, it was only in small words and only with Dean.
When Dean stopped for gas and snacks, Sam returned with a big grin and handed her a variety of her favorite snacks. He just knew what she liked. It reminded her of when he'd return home after a hunt, always with some cheap little trinket for her. Usually, a keychain from a rest stop, or a dollar plastic toy he found cute and amusing. She kept every one, and had built up a collection. Sam had obtained a small three-shelf bookcase and used it to display the collection of tokens, something that always reminded her of his love and of how he was always thinking of her.
The cold shoulder from Y/N towards Sam continued for several days as they moped around the Bunker. Sam tried many times to talk to her, but she retreated from him every time, as if they’d never been friends to begin with. Every time he caught her out in a public space, she barely said anything to him and mostly avoided him altogether.
He had walked toward the kitchen and paused when he heard her and Dean chatting inside. It wasn't anything important, but she laughed and seemed to talk just fine, though there was an underlying sadness that tinged her every word. He began to wonder if Dean was the father and husband in her dreams. She seemed more comfortable with him after the hunt, when before she was closer to Sam.
It never occurred to him that she might harbor secret feelings, especially for Dean, but to Sam it made sense - they always fell for Dean. It crushed him in ways he couldn't put into words. But if Y/N dreamed of a life with Dean, he wouldn't stand in the way. All he wanted was her happiness.
-
Dean rounded the corner in the hallway, intent on finding his brother, only to see Sam leaning against the edge of the wall as he peered around the corner at something. Dean slowed his steps and stealthily moved beside the taller man, stretching to see around him. Y/N stood in front of an open doorway to a room Dean wasn't familiar with; there were just so many, and she looked as if she were softly crying while absentmindedly rubbing her belly.
"What are we looking at?" he whispered.
Sam jumped in surprise, completely unaware Dean was there, his focus on Y/N and his guard down when he was home. He peeked around the corner again, glad that Y/N seemed undisturbed and hadn't noticed or heard them. He turned his attention back to his older brother with a huff.
"What are you doing?" Sam snapped back. Dean raised a brow, waiting for Sam to answer his question. The stare-off lasted only a few moments before Sam rolled his eyes hard. "I was watching Y/N."
"I can see that."
Sam fought back a groan, "She's been like that for twenty minutes."
Dean raised a brow again, "You've been watching her for twenty minutes?"
"No!" Sam hissed, though he closed his eyes and sighed, slumping as he knew that he had, in fact, watched her that long. "Yes. Look, something is going on with her. I think whatever happened really messed her up." He paused for breath. "You should talk to her."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you. Because she actually talks to you, and you two seem close," he shrugged, trailing off like it was no big deal, but they both knew better.
"Really, Sam?"
"You might have been in her dream, or her friend, or something. I don't know. But she's more comfortable talking to you since the whole thing. She barely looks at me," he deflated.
Dean peeked around the corner, and Y/N was still standing in the same position, almost as if in a trance. It was a little creepy. He looked back at his brother, who had been watching her for over twenty minutes, which was also creepy. He didn't want to get in the middle of whatever was going on with them, but if he could help them get through whatever this funk was, then he would try.
"Hey, Sweetheart," he smiled, making his presence known as he rounded the corner.
Y/N jumped in surprise and quickly wiped away the tears from her face as he walked toward her, stopping in front of the open door and looking curiously into the room. It was stacked haphazardly with various furniture and file cabinets, dusty and forgotten with time. He looked back at her, and she looked embarrassed at having been caught at something.
"What were you looking at?" Dean carefully asked.
"Nothing," she shook her head and forced a smile for his benefit, but he could see right through it, read the pain in her eyes.
"What was this room?" He looked into the room again before meeting her eyes, his gaze tinged with hurt and understanding.
Her eyes widened at his phrasing and the loaded gaze, because it confirmed what she had suspected before, that he had once fallen victim to a djinn, that he knew what she was going through. She knew because she knew Dean, now and in the dream, and he was one of her most trusted friends. There or here, he was still him.
"A nursery," she bashfully admitted with a reluctant sigh. "He, my husband, cleaned it out, painted and decorated, built the new furniture," she chuckled at the memory, her smile wide as she brushed away another errant tear. "But…it's just a room."
Sam had worked so hard for so long, with Dean's help, to make that room perfect before their first child arrived. He did it again and again with each new child they had. But here, it never happened. Everywhere she looked, signs of that life were missing. The Bunker seemed colder, emptier, less familiar somehow, and she began to wonder if she should even be there.
"We can talk about it, if you need to," Dean offered. Talking about feelings wasn't usually something he did, but if she needed someone to vent to, he wouldn't mind being that for her. Without having much detail at all, he already formed a pretty good picture in his mind of what she had, what it looked like. He knew enough about her to venture a guess, anyway.
"No," she smiled and patted his arm, as if he were the one who needed reassuring. "I'm fine. I'll just head back to my room and get some rest."
Dean let her go, intending to close the door to the storage room, but paused to look it over once more and imagine it as a nursery. He pursed his lips, nodding his head, able to picture something like it in his mind. He slowly closed the door and sighed. That would be a difficult one for him to endure, so he understood why she was so out of it. He wasn't sure what to do to help, really, but he was determined to try before this drove her insane.
-
Dean quickly noticed the mood shift in Sam, who reverted to grunts and glares at his brother as Y/N's avoidance persisted. It bothered him not just their avoidance of each other and the issue at hand, but also that his little brother was upset with him, as if he'd caused all of this.
It didn't take him long to sort it out, that Sam was jealous, and that he thought maybe Dean was the 'husband' from the dream. But he knew that couldn't be it. She and Sam had a thing, and Sam had it bad for her from the get. He wouldn't take that away from him. Sure, he and Y/N were friends, and he wasn't blind to how hot and great she was, but was it possible he had been oblivious to it?
Dean had to find out what had happened in that dream world and, hopefully, help her get through it. There was no getting over it, he knew from personal experience, but she could move past it, and he was determined to help get their little family back on track.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Dean greeted as he entered the open door to her room. She paused the TV and whatever she’d barely been paying attention to, forcing a smile as he entered and sat beside her. “How you feelin’?” She shrugged, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. “Look, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened, but we need to.”
“Dean-”
“No. You’ve been in a terrible funk, and Sam can’t take much more of you avoiding him,” he chuckled, but instantly felt awful from the pained frown she granted him. “You know I was in a djinn world once,” he said as he sat beside her.
"I figured," she shrugged and met his eyes, surprised as he smiled wistfully.
"There was a woman, Carmen, and we were living together. She was the model from the El Sol beer ads," he chuckled, glad that she was attentive and looking at him.
"In the dream, she was a nurse. Mom was still alive, though Dad had died. Jess was alive too, and she and Sam were engaged." he had to pause; the memory of it all still stung after all these years. Y/N knew about Sam and Jessica, had heard the stories, some from Sam himself. She flinched at the name, though, knowing that she was the great love of Sam's life. Nothing she could be or ever compare to.
"But I was the family fuck up, and Sam and I didn't get along, didn't even talk to each other, like at all," he lamented, and Y/N placed a hand over his reassuringly.
"I can't imagine you and Sam not being, well, you and Sam," she chuckled. He was glad she still had humor about her, despite looking deep in despair, her eyes red-rimmed and dark-circled, her hair a mess, her skin pale and lacking its usual luster.
"It's just, even though I guess I wasn't around much, I had a life, without the supernatural. Apparently, I worked at a garage and lived with that woman. Sam was engaged and a lawyer; Mom was alive and in the house in Lawrence. It was awesome," he admitted, the pain of it returning to the surface as he spoke about it, even after all these years.
"When I came back, I couldn't help but feel guilty. Like if I hadn't gone back to get Sam from Stanford, maybe he would have had that life."
"None of what happened to him was your fault, Dean."
"I know. But I spent a lot of time feeling angry and sad, filled with loss, wishing I could have that life again," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "I guess I'm just trying to say that I get it, you know. It's not easy, that's why djinn are such terrible creatures."
If he was willing to open up about it, she supposed she had to as well. She sighed as she sat up straighter, leaning against the headboard and daring to meet his eyes. “I was married, we had kids, a whole, happy life together.”
“Aw, honey. If you wanted to get married, all you had to do was ask,” he teased, and she elbowed his ribs playfully.
“It was with Sam,” she added, and Dean couldn’t even pretend to be surprised, though he was relieved that Sam's paranoia was just that.
“Yeah, I figured. It's just that you and he always had that thing," he added lamely.
"There isn't a thing, we're just friends," she added sadly, and Dean had to fight back the frustrated growl at the two of them, just wanting to bash their heads together or lock them in a room. But he knew anger wouldn't help anything.
"I've known there was a thing since you two met. Hell, everyone else thinks there's a thing. If you'd talk to him-"
“How can I? How can I look him in the eye after that?” She rubbed her eyes and rose from the bed to pace. "We were married longer than I've even known him! I love him, and now he's just gone! Our kids-" She started to cry again, the loss of her children too much to bear, her mind unable to separate the dream from reality.
"He's not gone, Y/N," Dean insisted, taking her into his arms and trying his best to soothe her. Though if he'd had kids in his dream and they were never real, he's sure he would have fallen into a deep, inconsolable despair. Except he knew his brother, and that Sam wanted all the same things. He'd only had to hear Sam go on and on about it over the years they'd known Y/N. Her dreams could become reality, unlike his own. “You should tell him.”
“Dean,” she pleaded. “I can’t.”
He huffed, but nodded, wrapping his arm around her as she tucked into his side and shared the whole story of her time in the dream. She needed comfort, and he was the one who could give it to her. But he knew if she just talked to Sam, he’d offer her the world. The two of them were so utterly blind to the possibility of each other that it drove him and everyone else insane.
-
Dean cautiously walked into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, ever on the lookout for Sam and Y/N. She rarely came out of her room and only really interacted with Dean, avoiding Sam entirely. That, of course, made Sam unbearable as he brooded about the Bunker, sulking over Y/N, and still convinced that Dean somehow meant more to her.
Luck was not on his side as he entered the kitchen to find Sam at the dining table, nursing his own mug. He looked like he hadn't slept much, and his hair was a little wild. Dean rolled his eyes to himself, his back to Sam as he fixed a mug, chugging it down quickly with a sigh before refilling it and turning to look at his brother, who was already glaring at him.
"You look like shit."
"I didn't sleep well," Sam answered, focusing his attention on the mug in his hands. "I saw her this morning. She came in for coffee," he sighed and ran his hands through his hair, which only made it messier. Dean figured that was how it became so unruly to begin with.
"Did you talk?" Dean asked, quickly polishing off the second mug before refilling and joining Sam at the table.
"I tried to," Sam shrugged. "But she always looks like she's terrified, but also like her body is leaning toward me somehow," he shook his head. "It's probably just my imagination," he huffed, then glanced at Dean, looking like a lost and broken little boy.
"It's not me, Sam," Dean told him gently, still trying to convince his brother that he wasn't some great secret love in Y/N's mind, but he also didn't want to betray her confidence. He wanted her to talk to Sam. But he was quickly losing his patience, and he wasn't sure how much more of his brother's sadness and anger he could take.
"It doesn't matter who it was," he said, a little sharply. "I just want her to be okay. I want to help, but she won't talk to me. She'll talk to you, but that doesn't seem to be helping her, and you won't tell me what it is, so I can't help her."
God, Sam's emotional tirade wasn't helping Dean's patience any. He was spinning out, and he really wanted to bash their heads together for his own sanity. He never thought his brother falling in love meant all his intelligence disappeared. Sam could talk to anyone, adapt himself to them to gather intel or learn important information, and soothe grieving family members and talk down angry police. So why the hell couldn't he manage to talk to Y/N about how he felt?
Dean realized, as he got lost in his thoughts and shook out of it, that Sam was still ranting, had been ranting the whole time. Dean rubbed his temples with a groan. Yeah, he couldn't keep living like this.
"It was you!" Dean shouted, and the room fell silent. He opened his eyes to see Sam, shocked to stillness, slack-jawed, staring at Dean as if there were a hole in his head.
"What?"
Dean sighed, "It was you, man. You were the husband and father. Okay? In the dream, you two were married, had kids, and were stupidly in love. She had a perfect life with you."
Sam sucked in a sharp breath as his heart raced and his mind reeled. It wasn't his brother, but him. They were married and had a family. God, Sam had that dream himself many times, without the involvement of a djinn, and his heart wanted to soar knowing that she apparently wanted that, too.
But how could he talk to her about it? And if she kept avoiding him, it had to be for a reason. Maybe it hurt too much, and she needed space? Maybe Dean was wrong and just using this as another opportunity to try to insinuate something between her and Sam when there was nothing.
“So, are you gonna talk to her?”
“She’s avoiding me for a reason,” Sam responded, snapping out of his stupor and resorting to his usual self-deprecation that kept him from pursuing her in the first place, no matter how badly he wanted to.
Dean shook his head, knowing that insisting they talk alone would not be enough to bring about any change. But he was no longer willing to live with their sadness and separation, with the pining and lovestruck looks across the room, the longing and love that lingered between them. He rapidly stood and marched from the room, and Sam jumped up to follow in a panic.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Dean.”
Y/N had locked herself away, and neither brother had set eyes on her in days. Dean had had enough and threw open Y/N's bedroom door, ready to barricade the two in the room until they sorted everything out. Except both brothers froze with wide eyes as they set eyes on her room, which she was not in, and half of her things were missing, as if she had hastily packed and left in a hurry.
"She didn't," Dean announced, devastated as he and Sam dashed to the garage with the same goal in mind. Her car was missing from its usual spot. They knew she had left without a word, and neither of them had noticed.
"I'll go see if I can track her phone, find where she went," Dean announced, rushing from the garage to start tracking her. Though he knew it wouldn't be simple, since he'd taught Y/N how to cover her tracks.
Sam stood alone in the garage, regretting his decision to give her space. Maybe if he had talked to her, she wouldn't have run off. He could have told her how he felt, that he wanted the same life that she'd dreamed of, kids and all. His heart broke for her as Dean had told him how broken she was over the loss of their imaginary children. He could understand, as he too would be utterly devastated over losing everything he had ever wanted, finding out it was all a dream. He hoped Dean could find something, because right then, Sam felt a hopelessness consume him that he hadn't experienced in years.
-
After her talk with Dean, Y/N knew she had to leave the Bunker, at least for a while. Because there was no way Dean wouldn't end up telling Sam, they told each other almost everything, and she knew Dean was worried about her. But being in the Bunker and around Sam and Dean was messing with her head. She couldn't distinguish between the dream and reality. So she packed up some things, snuck out of the Bunker, collected her old, rarely used car, and was glad that Dean kept all the vehicles in working order.
She drove, without a destination in mind, and found herself back in Steubenville. She pulled into a motel, unlike the one she had been in with the brothers. She desperately needed to disassociate and to reconfigure her mind to this reality, not the one to which she'd grown accustomed in her dream. The loss of her children was the most difficult pill to swallow, even harder when she made herself realize they never were to begin with.
As she entered her motel room, she faceplanted on the bed and let the tears consume her, something she couldn't do back home with the Winchesters around, because they were sweet, caring, and concerned and wouldn't let her suffer alone. Especially Sam, who was the best friend she'd ever had, and she'd never loved anyone as strongly and deeply as she did him.
The first couple of days, she remained in the motel room, crying and grieving as she let herself remember the finer details of her life with Sam and their beautiful children, then forcing herself to let it go, like photographs sacrificed to a fire. She couldn't grieve properly within the walls of the Bunker. It was too familiar, signs of the other life everywhere and nowhere. And being around the brothers who weren't the ones she's grown used to made it harder for her to separate herself from the dream.
After a few days, the pain lessened, and the memories began to fade like distant thoughts. She supposed it was traces of the creature's magic undoing in the wake of its death. Then she decided that perhaps she should retrace her steps from the case, remind herself how she got there, and separate the two sets of memories at the point of their origin, with the djinn.
Luckily, the details of working the case in both scenarios were the same, only the outcome had changed. So she was able to retrace her steps through town. She stopped to look over several houses where they'd gone to interview people about the missing persons, the victims, or possible leads.
She giggled to herself as she stood outside the lovely Victorian-style home with the lonely older lady who was completely enamored with Sam. Dean couldn't resist teasing him about it for the rest of the day, and Sam was the only one who didn't find it so amusing.
'It's because you're so big and charming, Sam.' She remembered teasing him with a flirty grin. 'BIG and CHARMING, huh?' Dean had teased, and Y/N bashfully looked away, her cheeks hot as Dean had chuckled. But Sam flashed her the biggest grin, his dimples popping, as if he'd just won a lottery, and it melted her heart, despite the embarrassment she felt.
As she passed by the diner, she remembered when Dean kept going on and on about how cool it was that the restaurant was a diner and a bar, something he felt should be more common. Sam seemed annoyed with his brother's ramblings, so Y/N tried to help him out and get Dean to focus on the case. But other than asking a question or two about the research, Sam didn't really talk, and she wondered if he was somehow annoyed with her, too.
Eventually, she found herself standing on the banks of the Ohio River, where one of the victims' bodies had been found. It was a significant lead in the case, and proved to be the detail that helped them track down the djinn. She and Sam agreed to check out the area while Dean went to the morgue. Y/N tried to avoid the dead body part as much as possible, though she could never avoid it entirely.
They had started where the body had been found and walked along the river upstream to try to identify a possible point of origin. The police had done that too, but they didn't know what they were looking for.
She admired the way the breeze blew through his hair, the way the sun shone on his skin as they walked, and her cheeks felt impossibly hot when he caught her looking. Though he didn't say anything, she hoped that maybe he hadn't figured it out. He never seemed to catch on before, but she needed to be more careful.
So she focused all her attention on the case and the many abandoned buildings, factories, and warehouses that lined the river in the once-thriving industrial town. Sam seemed glad to focus on the case, and it wasn't long before they pinpointed the most likely location of the djinn.
Though she knew it wasn't one of her better ideas, she entered the abandoned building with a flashlight and a large silver blade, missing the key component of lamb's blood. She was pretty confident that there was no longer any danger, since they had caught and killed the djinn that had settled here, and that the knife was just in case.
She remembered her entry point, the route she traveled, and stopped as she came to the spot in one of the hallways where the djinn had attacked her. In both scenarios, she grappled with the creature. In one, Sam and Dean arrived before the beast could touch her and inflict its venom, and it was the moment that launched her and Sam into their relationship. He had saved her, wanted her, loved her.
In the other, her reality, the djinn overpowered her, touched her, and fed on her while she rotted away in a perfect dream. Sam and Dean found her and saved her. But Sam didn't cup her face with eyes full of tears and kiss her. He didn't choke up as he told her that he loved her and was afraid to lose her.
While she was able to leave the building knowing the creature was dead, the threat gone, she couldn't help but feel that all possibility of the dream coming true was left behind there, too. As she returned to her motel, she considered finding another djinn. She could let it take her, despite knowing that she would die. But she would be able to have that life back.
As she entered her motel room, she chewed herself out for that train of thought. She wasn't going to throw herself away over this, no matter how much it hurt. But she knew she couldn't hide her feelings for Sam any longer. All she wanted was to crawl into his arms, seek his comfort and love. If he didn't feel the same and rejected her, she wasn't sure she could survive that either, the second death of her dream. She had to make a decision: either tell Sam the truth and risk everything, or maybe go back out on her own for a while.
-
Dean was on his umpteenth cup of coffee, unable to sleep with Y/N missing and Sam going crazy trying to find her. Sam had been nonstop since they discovered she'd left, using every method at his disposal to try to track her down. It had been days, and no luck, until Sam received a call from the Jefferson County Sheriff's Office, who spoke with the Steubenville Police Department after a report of spotting the vehicle Sam had put a BOLO on.
"Why would she go back to Steubenville?" Dean asked tiredly as they piled into the Impala, ready to return to the town, despite their efforts never to return to places where they had cases.
"I'll be sure to ask her when we find her," Sam snarkily responded. Dean just sighed, knowing Sam would remain on edge until he set eyes on Y/N again.
Sam was hurt that she left, that she wouldn't talk to him, that she wouldn't let him help her with this. Especially since it involved him, they were best friends, and even if she thought he'd turn her down, which he never would, she should have known that they could talk about it and he could help her work through it. She wasn't in her right mind, not that he could blame her for that, but it only added to his worry.
He'd been thinking about her nonstop since she left. Thinking about what her djinn dream world looked like, according to Dean. Thinking about all the opportunities he had to man up and tell her how he felt, and hated himself for never taking the chance. At least then she would have let him comfort her, talk about what happened, and what she really wanted, deep down.
They pulled into the parking lot of the motel where the car was last seen, and Sam let out a long breath of relief as they set eyes on her car, parked in front of one of the rooms of the dingy motel. Sam's heart raced, knowing she was nearby after nearly a week of looking and going out of his mind with worry.
Dean convinced Sam to wait in the car while he went into the office to find out what room Y/N was in and secure his own room while he was at it. He got a double in case Y/N wasn't there or didn't want to see them. If Sam struck out, Dean could try in the morning. They'd of course have to take shifts to make sure she didn't leave again. Dean just hoped that she and Sam could work it out, for both their sakes.
Sam had to pace outside the car, filled with nervous energy, and fighting the urge to knock on every door until he found her. When Dean returned, Sam was sitting against the hood of the Impala, and he could tell he had worked himself into an emotional frenzy.
"I got a room," he led with, pointing over his shoulder. "Number twenty-seven."
"Is she here?" Sam was barely able to contain the tremor in his voice, his emotions tumultuous and blending into deep, wounded anger.
"Room seventeen," Dean sighed, dropping his head as Sam immediately pushed off the car and headed to the indicated room. "Just…be nice," he hissed after the taller man.
Sam stood in front of her door, closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself as best he could under the circumstances. Gathering his courage, he knocked swiftly on the door and waited as he heard shuffling from within. Several long moments later, the door opened just a crack, stopped by the flimsy security chain on the inside. Y/N peeked through the opening, her eyes tired and red-rimmed, and Sam felt both relieved and heartbroken over her state.
"Sam?" The door closed, then opened again, wider, without the chain limiting its operation. She glanced around, seeing the Impala but not Dean, which confused her more.
"Dean got another room," Sam responded after her quick search.
"What are you doing here?"
"Are you gonna let me in?" Sam failed to keep the hurt and anger from creeping into his voice.
Y/N nodded, backing up to allow him to enter, and shut the door behind them. She turned to face him, leaning against the door and feeling somewhat cornered. He looked so small, despite his size, and she knew he was worried and hurting.
"How did you find me?"
Sam scoffed and shook his head, biting his lip as he looked at her. "We couldn't track you, so we - I - put out a BOLO."
"A BOLO?" she shrieked, looking out the window to see if any other cars were driving past or parked and watching.
"It's just us," Sam promised, glad when she relaxed and looked at him again. "I wouldn't have had to if you had called, or left your phone on, or left a freakin' note!" Sam's voice grew angrier with each word he spat, and when Y/N flinched, he felt both ashamed and justified.
"I'm sorry," she began, taking cautious steps towards him. "I should have left a note or something. But I had to get out of there, sort my head."
Sam huffed, "I get that these situations can be hard, but why didn't you come and talk to us?" He wanted to clarify why she didn't talk to him, but the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel cornered or attacked, even though her silence and absence killed him.
"I talked to Dean," she mumbled as she dropped her head, the words sounding weak to her own ears. "I didn't want to avoid you, I should have talked to you, but-”
“Why didn’t you?” He asked softly, but he really needed to know. Was it someone else, or was Dean telling the truth, and it was him? He didn't want to get his hopes up, but they rose nonetheless.
She huffed a laugh and shook her head. “Because I didn’t want to embarrass myself or make things awkward between us!"
“Between us?" he clarified, swallowing hard, and when she nodded her head, his heart jumped into his throat.
"How was I supposed to tell you that I…I dreamed of being your wife, having your kids, because that's what I dream of every day I see you, know you, talk to you!"
Sam's breath hitched at her confession. He thought about how much he wanted more with her, how he worried she wouldn't like him. How he assumed she wanted an apple-pie life with a civilian or even with his brother. He wanted to be all that and more for her, whatever she needed him to be, but didn't think she saw him as anything more than a friend. Now, suddenly, everything seemed possible, just beyond reach, and he was willing to stretch as far as he could to touch and obtain it.
"You think I didn't feel that way, too? That I haven't wanted you every day since we met?" He responded, still angry, but his words were softer as he stared her down. "After Dean finally told me-"
"Dean told you?" she said, and the look in her eyes was like a cornered animal ready to run or fight.
"Well," he huffed. "You weren't going to."
Her mind was reeling, swimming with a myriad of emotions as she processed what he was telling her. He knew about the dream, and he didn't run or let her down. He said he wanted her too, since they met, and here he was, tracking her down after she fled like a coward.
“Sam-"
"I've had the same dreams. I've thought about a life with you all the time, Y/N. I didn't think you-"
His words set her body in motion, and he was cut off as Y/N stood on her toes to reach his lips, kissing him and crashing her body into his. He hummed into the kiss, reciprocating as his arms pulled her flush against him. It could have been minutes or hours, but it didn't matter as they drowned in each other's kisses. When they finally separated, he leaned his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath.
“Tell me about it?”
“What?”
Sam moved them to sit on the edge of the bed, tucking her hair behind her ears and cupping her face. “Tell me about the dream, our lives.”
“Sam,” she shook her head, and he urged her eyes back to his.
“Please?”
She couldn’t resist the tender, pleading look in his eyes. “We were married,” she began. “Had been married for eight years,” she breathed deeply to steel her nerves. “We had two boys, and I was pregnant. We were hoping for a girl this time,” she sniffled, having to break their gaze to lower her head and wipe away a sudden tear.
"You were still hunting with Dean, and we lived in the Bunker. I gave up hunting to take care of the kids, and we made the Bunker a home. It was perfect,” she insisted, meeting his eyes again despite the tears streaming down her face. “I just…I wanted a life with you, and the fact it came with everything else…”
Sam kissed her deeply, wiping away her tears with his thumbs as he tried to soothe her. His heart ached for her, and he knew if he’d been the one in that dream, he’d suffer greatly under its loss. It did sound perfect, and if she’d let him, Sam would do his best to give her all that and more.
“I love you,” Sam spoke from the heart, pouring out all the things he’d been holding inside for so long. “I have loved you for so long. But you’re my best friend. You know everything about me, including the worst of me, and I didn’t think there was any way you’d want me after knowing all that.”
She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his, running a hand down his shoulder and chest, feeling how real he was, different from the dream. She had a hard time believing it could be true, but she was also so very exhausted. Her stomach gurgled loudly, and they both chuckled.
"When's the last time you ate something?" Sam asked, caressing her cheek. "When's the last time you slept?"
She scoffed, knowing she didn't look great. "I could ask you the same," she said, noticing how unkempt he looked, so different from his usual self. She felt guilty for what she put him through.
"Why don't I order in something?"
She nodded, grateful for him and his care in that moment. Neither of them had been taking care of themselves, and she was so overwhelmed she wasn't sure she could think straight. They ate and passed the time as Y/N told him about their dream lives, and Sam asked pointed questions, wanting to know more. He had pictured a lot of the same things himself, and it thrilled him that the two of them seemed to be on the same page.
Somehow, that turned into them relaxing on the bed, lost in a heavy makeout session while the TV played some random movie neither of them had been paying attention to. He kissed her again and again, stealing her breath away, before trailing his kisses along her jaw and neck, focusing on the spot behind her ear that made her mewl.
“If you let me, I’ll give you everything you want," he said, his touch and kisses igniting something deeper. I’m all in, for all of it.”
“Sam,” she moaned. She wanted to believe him, but it all seemed so surreal. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but-”
“But what?” he asked. “You think I don’t mean it? I’ll call Cas and have him officiate a vow exchange right here and now.”
“Sam!” she chuckled, slapping his shoulder, but he didn’t budge, grinning down at her with shimmering eyes full of love that made her gasp.
“Marry you,” he said with a peck to her lips. “Have babies with you,” he chuckled against her throat, and she groaned to his delight.
“Sam, are you serious?” She pulled from the kiss, cupping his face as she studied his eyes for any hint of a joke or lie.
“Yes, I’m serious. Marry me, Y/N. I want my best friend to become my wife,” he emphasized, and he relished her swoon.
It might seem fast or ridiculous to normal people, people who weren’t them. But for him and Y/N, and the life they lived, he knew he had to take a chance when it presented itself. Tomorrow was never guaranteed, and he didn’t want to waste any more time thinking about it. After all the time they could have been together, all the hurt and misunderstanding, he finally wanted to live it.
Hearing this version, the real version, of Sam say 'wife' sent her whole being into overdrive, the dream and reality colliding into something that made her feel desperate and hungry. “I love you, Sam,” she said, cupping his face to hold his gaze. “So much.”
“So is that a yes?” he chuckled nervously with a lopsided grin that melted her heart.
"Ask me again in the morning," she chuckled, broken by a wide yawn. Sam laughed and kissed her forehead, and they quickly settled under the covers together. She settled off into a deep sleep, surrounded by the safety and warmth of Sam, and hoped he still meant it in the morning. Sam wrapped her in his arms, unwilling to let go in case it was all just a dream.
It didn't take long for Y/N to fall asleep, but Sam stayed awake, holding her close, running his fingers through her hair, and caressing her skin as she fell deep into sleep like her body needed. He was floating on cloud nine, still trying to wrap his head around all of it. He'd proposed, and meant every word. He wanted her to be his wife. He wasn't sure if she believed him, but he fully intended to ask her again in the morning.
When she rolled over and snuggled into the bed, Sam took the opportunity to carefully remove himself from the bed. He needed to check in with Dean, let him know things were okay, but also talk to him about the new developments. Quietly slipping out, Sam headed to Dean's room, knocking on the door rapidly, impatient for him to answer.
Dean hadn't been sleeping, but had been relaxing on the bed watching TV. When he heard the knock on the door, he assumed the worst. That Y/N had rejected Sam, and he'd come crawling back to Dean's room for shelter. Opening the door, Dean was surprised as Sam jovially bounced past him into the room, a stupidly happy grin on his face.
"So, how did it go?" Dean asked, unsure what was going on and why Sam was absolutely lit up.
"I asked her to marry me," Sam announced, rocking on the balls of his feet, grinning ear-to-ear.
“You proposed?” Dean asked, stunned at the turn of events. He thought they’d talk, maybe roll in the sheets, and be together. But he didn’t know either of them would dive straight to the big stuff. “Are you sure this isn’t the dream influencing things?”
“Dean, I love her. You know that, and this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about a future like that with her.”
“Yeah, but married? What did she say?”
“Well, she told me to ask her again in the morning,” Sam deflated a little. "She was tired and a little surprised to see me," he admitted, chewing on his lip in thought as he wondered if his happiness wasn't premature.
“Are you sure about this? I mean, I just don't want you to rush into things. And I don't want to see either of you get hurt."
“Look, it’s not like we can have a legal marriage. If we do a private ceremony, we can make our promises together, and it’ll mean more than just some legal piece of paper.”
“You can make a fake marriage certificate, Sam,” Dean rolled his eyes.
“It’s not about that,” Sam sighed, disappointed that his big brother didn’t seem as on board as he thought he’d be.
"Look," Dean sighed, feeling bad that he popped Sam's happy little bubble. "Let's just get home first, all three of us. Then we can talk about it some more, okay?"
Sam nodded, realizing maybe both Y/N and Dean needed time to stew on the idea of this being a reality. "I'm gonna go spend the night with Y/N," he said as he opened the door. "I'll see you in the morning."
When he walked back into Y/N's room and found her still asleep, he smiled warmly to himself. He carefully climbed back into bed beside her and grinned when she rolled over into his arms, sighing his name as she remained deep in her slumber. He wouldn't give up. He'd ask her again in the morning, after they'd slept and eaten, and he'd convince Dean to get on board as well.
-
When Y/N woke, she felt refreshed and better than she had since leaving the dream. She was still sore, but it was less a post-hunt ache and more a 'didn't move from the same spot for too long' pain. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, the warm glow of the sun lighting the curtains a bright orange and casting a soft glow across the room.
Sam had spent the night with her, something that made her smile. He had found her, despite not wanting to be discovered, and arrived on her doorstep confessing that he, too, harbored similar feelings. It was all too awkward and a little angry to be a dream, but she enjoyed that too. His side of the bed was empty and cold, which made her grin falter until she noticed the sheet of paper left on his pillow.
Went to get breakfast. Didn't want you to think I was gone or that it was a dream. - Sam
She huffed a laugh. It was sweet and thoughtful for him to leave a note, because she surely would have driven herself insane thinking it was all another dream. She was beginning to be able to sort things out, one life from the other, and didn't need further confusion. As she rose from the bed, she spotted another slip of paper on the dining table under the window and retrieved it after a long, satisfying stretch.
In case you didn't see my other note, I went to get breakfast. Be back soon. - Sam
She chuckled, always amused and grateful to Sam for thinking of every detail. It was possible that she wouldn't see the notes, the fan could blow them away, or that she'd wake in such a panic that she wouldn't focus on details like a note. Sam knew that, and he was proving how well he knew her through those simple little actions.
She did her morning routine in the bathroom and chuckled heartily at another note, taped to the mirror, just like the others. It told her that Sam was just as worried as she was, that maybe it wasn't real, or perhaps she didn't believe him. She sat at the dining table, the three notes laid out before her, smiling dopily as she thought about their exchange.
She distinctly remembered him asking her to marry him, but figured she was probably caught up in the moment. While she definitely wanted to explore this new thing and shared feelings between them, she wasn't going to hold him to anything he said. A small part of her worried that he'd said all he did just because he didn't want her out of his life.
The room door opened, and Sam stepped through, a bright smile on his face as his eyes met hers. He quickly closed the door, hands full of a paper bag and a tray with coffee.
"You're awake," he smiled, setting the items on the table and passing one of the two cups to her. "How do you feel?"
"Good," she smiled, breathing in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee with a happy sigh. "Haven't slept that hard in a long time."
His grin somehow grew, dimples popping, eyes shining as he stared down at her. He leaned in, cupped her cheek as his lips met hers, lingering for a second, and took the seat next to her as he began removing items from the paper bag for them. She was swooning so hard. The kiss was sweet, but the giant muffin he sat before her was even sweeter.
"So I was thinking, when you're ready, that we could head back to the Bunker," Sam said as he finished eating, smiling over at her. "Or if the Bunker makes you uncomfortable, we could head to one of Bobby's cabins, or Rufus's in Montana," he offered.
Her heart stuttered at how he was looking out for her, worried about her comfort. She was still a bit nervous about being back at the Bunker, despite having separated her lives in her mind, because she would still mourn what wasn't. But Sam seemed determined to prove to her that he loved her, that something between them could work.
"I think I want to go home," she smiled softly.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "We can go back today."
"Okay," Sam smiled, and she knew he'd be glad to have her back in the Bunker, all of them safe at home where they belonged. She balled up her trash and tossed it in the paper bag, groaning, and she rose from her seat and stretched. "I'm gonna grab a shower."
She leaned down, a hand on his shoulder, as he pecked his cheek. Sam turned his head, capturing her lips again. Now that he could kiss her, he wasn't sure he would ever stop, stealing any and every opportunity she allowed. His eyes were glued to her ass as she entered the bathroom, and he had to fight the urge to join her. He closed his eyes and took several calming breaths.
He wanted Y/N so badly. But this whole thing was new, and her nerves and mind were still raw, and he didn't want to rush anything. But he'd thought about being with her so many times, and now, it seemed just within reach. It took several long minutes to get his overeager body to relax, though his cock painfully throbbed in protest.
A short while later, the bathroom door opened, steam billowing out as Y/N emerged in only a towel, her skin and hair damp. She locked eyes with him and smiled bashfully, "Forgot to bring my bag in with me," she explained as she retrieved her duffel from the floor.
Sam's heart raced at the sight of her, and his cock hardened again, all his calming efforts gone in a flash. He wanted nothing more than to cross the room, take her in his arms, and kiss her senseless. The moment he realized he could, his feet were moved with purpose, carrying him across the room to where she stood in a few short strides.
One arm wrapped behind her back, pulling her flush against him, while the other cupped her jaw and angled her head. He crashed his lips into hers, his hunger evident as he nipped at her lip. She gasped, and he seized the opportunity, slipping his tongue into her mouth and tasting her properly.
Y/N moaned, her hands slid over his chest and shoulders as she rose to her tiptoes to kiss him back, matching his hunger. Her towel fell away, and she couldn't care less, lost in the feel of Sam's lips and his hands as they caressed her now bare skin.
He pulled back, and his eyes glazed over as he looked down at her naked body in his hands, her nipples hardening in the cool air of the room. He groaned as his hands slid up to cup her breasts, feeling the softness and weight in his large hands. He ran a thumb over a nipple, making her gasp, and he kissed her harshly as he guided her back toward the bed.
He guided her to lie back on the bed, following her down and covering her soft and naked body with his hard and fully clothed one, kissing her senseless the whole time. The contrast of his rough denim and soft flannel against her bare skin only further heightened her sensations as his hands roamed over her breasts and down her stomach, his lips over her jaw and neck.
"You're so beautiful, Baby. So damn sexy," Sam groaned against her throat, kissing his way to her lips. "Can I make you cum? Please?"
His hand lingered on her inner thigh as he waited for her permission to go further. His eyes were dark and hungry, his breath hot and teasing against her lips. She wanted him so badly, this Sam, her best friend.
"Yes," she nodded, pulling him in for another kiss.
She parted her thighs as his hand cupped her mound, relishing the warmth and wetness. She was already so incredibly aroused. Sam had that effect on her, but since he'd shown up at her doorstep, she'd been yearning for him and his touch. But this Sam, her Sam, was so very different from her imaginings or even the djinn dream. He was a bit hungrier, more demanding, his touch more sure, and it only made her squirm for more.
His long, calloused fingers ran through her folds, exploring and teasing, testing what made her release certain sounds, or made her hips jerk and swivel, what made her hands clench in his hair while his mouth kissed and sucked at her breasts, teasing at her nipples with his tongue. He was eager, wanting to prove himself, wanting to enjoy and savor her, wanting to be with her.
Once he had completed a cursory mapping, he set to work, concentrating on those sensitive areas. He slid two fingers within her, his thumb reaching to circle her clit as his mouth and free hand continued stimulating her breasts. In a matter of minutes, her body tensed as she came hard, her thighs clenching around his hand, her fingers tugging harshly at his hair. He leaned on one forearm, gazing down at her and drinking in every detail as his hand worked her through her high.
By the time he pulled from between her legs, his fingers were drenched in her cum. Holding eye contact, he lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean of her juices, his eyes fluttering closed as her tangy but sweet flavor exploded on his tongue.
"You are gorgeous like this," he praised, brushing the hair back from her flushed and relaxed face as she descended from cloud nine and back into her body. "Marry me, Y/N? Please?"
Her heart stuttered in her chest at his words and the sweet yet vulnerable look in his eyes. Before, he seemed almost manically to demand her hand. But now, and after last night, things seemed different, real, less urgent, and more them. He proposed to her with a tenderness that almost broke her heart.
“Yes,” she grinned broadly, accepting Sam’s passionate kiss, but it was over too soon for her liking. She pouted as he rose off her and pulled her off the bed to her feet. “What?”
“I wanna marry you,” he reiterated. “So that when I finally slide inside of you, make love to you the way I always wanted, have you bare and cum inside of you, I can call you my wife.”
She swooned so hard he had to catch her as her knees buckled from his sensuous words alone. His knowing chuckles were frustrating, but she also admired his confidence and resolution.
“Don’t you wanna test drive the car before you buy it?” she teased.
“I’m confident in my acquisition,” he kissed her soundly. "Get dressed."
“Wait, where are you going?” she asked, dumbfounded as he headed for the door.
“To talk to Dean,” he grinned and shrugged. "We're gonna head home, and then we have a wedding to plan," he added as he rushed out the door to Dean's room.
It was happening! Not in a dream, but for real. And while it did seem fast and she was a little unsure, Y/N knew that if they waited, anything could happen to prevent their happiness. Sam said he was all in, which was everything she’d wanted from him and with him. It was all so rushed and informal and utterly different from the dream, which somehow made it even better.
After dressing and packing up her things, Sam returned to help her pack up her car. "You and I can take your car, and Dean will lead in the Impala," he explained, and Y/N knew that in his short few minutes to his brother's room, Sam and Dean had talked about a whole lot. It was their way, their shorthand.
When she stepped outside, Dean was already there waiting. "Hey, Sweetheart," he said as he wrapped her in a warm hug.
"Hey, Dean."
"You had us worried," he said and gave her a heavy look. She glanced at Sam, who focused back on loading the car. She knew she was due for an ass chewing. "Don't ever run off on us like that again. If there's an issue, we work through it together. Yeah?"
"Yeah," she agreed, feeling heavy with guilt. She needed the time to herself to sort through things, but she could've left a note or something, much like Sam did when he went for breakfast.
He grabbed her gently by the shoulders and tilted his head to meet her eyes. "You good? Do you need some more time here to sort through things? I don't want to rush you home if you aren't ready."
She smiled genuinely and nodded to him. She wanted to be home with her family. It was infinitely better than being on her own, and she knew they cared for her as much as she did them.
"Alright," he nodded curtly, glancing at Sam. "Let's hit the road."
-
Dean was glad that Y/N was coming home with them and even happier that she and Sam could have time alone to work things out. He had to admit he was surprised when Sam rushed into his room to tell him that he'd asked Y/N to marry him. Mostly, he was surprised that Sam finally manned up and had the balls to tell the girl how he felt. He'd only been pining after her for ages.
He also worried that jumping straight to marriage was a little impulsive and spurred on both ends by the fantasy the djinn had concocted. Dean knew how hard it was to come back from that. But he also didn't want either of them to end up broken-hearted or decide they were better off as friends. He didn't think any of that was likely; they were a great match, and he'd wondered how it'd taken so long.
The downside to having a two-car traveling caravan was that Dean wasn't the only driver in control, and Sam stopped more often than Dean liked for gas or snacks, because Y/N needed the bathroom, or to stretch his legs. It was everything they asked for when Dean drove, but he refused, pushing through to reach the next location as quickly as possible. It made the already lengthy drive from Steubenville to Lebanon even longer.
Dean didn't mind being on the road, behind the wheel, blasting his favorite music and singing off-key at the top of his lungs without anyone there to criticize him. He could do it all day. But that was not the point. He groaned as his phone pinged with another text from Sam, telling him they needed to get gas. His Baby needed gas quite often, but Y/N's little beater seemed to guzzle it up.
Dean pulled into a pump, and Sam pulled up on the opposite side. "Filling up again," Dean teasingly groaned at the pair.
"I see you're getting gas," Sam sassed back.
"Might as well, since we're here," Dean shrugged, though Sam didn't need to know that Baby was running low on gas and he'd have to stop soon anyway to fill her up. Again, not the point.
Y/N smirked and pecked Sam on the lips, "Gonna go to the bathroom and get some snacks."
"Kay," he smiled, his eyes glued to her until she disappeared from his sight, and Dean was sure she had a little more sway to her hips, knowing Sam was watching. Sam shook his head, smiling as he turned his attention to pumping the gas.
"Man, you are so whipped," Dean chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the side of his car. Sam shrugged, tucking his hands in his pockets, though the smile was stuck fast on his face. "Honestly, I'm happy for you."
"Yeah?" Sam looked up at Dean with skepticism.
"Yeah, really," Dean insisted, dropping his arms to his sides.
"Didn't seem that on board with everything earlier."
"I know, I'm sorry," Dean sighed, conceding the fight. "Look, I'm not against the whole getting married thing if that's what you two really want," he tried to explain himself. "I just didn't want you two rushing into something. But if you both really want to do this, then I want to support you."
"We've been talking about it in the car," Sam said, with a slight smirk. "It's still talking with my best friend. But I'm holding her hand, and we're talking about marriage and if we think it's a good idea." The gas pump clicked, and he put the handle back, closing the fuel intake latch.
"And she pointed out that we love each other and already live together, have for years, and that we know everything about each other and our lives. I've always wanted to get married and have a family, but over time it just didn't seem possible, having to choose between hunting or starting my own family."
"But Y/N said if she learned anything from the djinn dream, it was that having a family in the hunting life is possible, and how to do it. We built a life in the safety of the Bunker, but the kids still had somewhat normal lives."
Dean smiled warmly at the image, but felt a little sadness creep in as he tried to imagine his brother out of the life, with a family, and Dean hunting alone.
"You were there," Sam said, picking up on his brother's body language. "In our lives, you still lived there, we hunted together," he explained as Dean tried to pretend he wasn't intrigued. "You were the cool and helpful Uncle," he smirked, thinking of Bobby in their own lives.
Dean smirked, then cleared his throat. "I'll call Cas," he said, ignoring Sam's look of surprise as his eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. "I'll take care of everything."
“Really?” Sam’s mood instantly improved, the smile back on his face, and Dean felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of him.
"Yeah," Dean said as he eagerly climbed into his Baby. "Rings, dress, decorations. Give me twenty-four hours. I'll meet you back at the Bunker."
"Where are you going?"
"Got a wedding to plan!" Dean shouted out the open window, tires screeching as he peeled off.
Sam eyed his brother cautiously, wary about how it would turn out if Dean were planning it all. He didn’t want bottled beers, peanut butter cups, and Zepplin IV on repeat. In the end, it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was Y/N.
"Where's he going?" Y/N asked, dropping her purchases in the car as she watched Dean disappear down the road.
"To plan the wedding, apparently," Sam shrugged, grinning as he wrapped his arms around her, happily accepting her kisses.
"Oh yeah? Should I be worried?"
"Doesn't matter," Sam spoke as he swayed with her in his arms. "As long as I get to make you my wife."
She giggled as she accepted his kisses, but pulled from his arms and ignored his pout as he tried to push her against the side of the car. She opened the passenger door, grinning at Sam's exaggerated pout.
"Uh uh," she teased. "You're the one who wanted to wait until marriage, so let's get home."
Despite her teasing, Sam was on cloud nine, grinning as he climbed in the car and drove toward home. A couple of hours into their drive, Sam began to notice that Y/N had shifted to sit sideways in her seat, her back against the passenger door as she bit her lip and stared at him with bedroom eyes.
"What?" Sam asked with a smile, his eyes flitting between her and the road.
"You are so incredibly handsome," she said, and he could almost feel her gaze as it swept over him. "So damn sexy. I never get to really look," she swooned, continuing to ogle him from her seat shamelessly. "Always so afraid of getting caught and the possible fallout from that."
"I know the feeling," he said, looking over at her and taking his own sweeping glance of her relaxed and open body. The same body he had naked under him just hours ago. Reminding himself he was driving, he turned his attention back to the road.
"I love the way your hair falls around your eyes and frames your face," she said, leaning forward. "I always wanna brush it back," she said as she used a gentle finger to sweep back his hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear, letting her fingers trail down the column of his neck.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. She smirked, her eyes locked on his angled jaw as she ran the back of her finger over the hairs there. "I love the bit of stubble you get when you've been too busy to shave for a few days." She ran her lips and cheek against his stubbled jaw, enjoying the scratch against her softer skin, and kissed the hinge of his jaw.
"I love how serious you get when researching for a case, and how excited you get when you learn something new," she added, admiring the pink that tinged his ears and cheeks.
"You do that, too," Sam smirked. "On a case, you're so serious and focused. When people are dying, you are all business. I respect that so much," he praised, admiring how she swooned. He placed a hand on her thigh, his fingers digging in as he squeezed.
His arm pressed against her chest as she leaned in, and she hummed, rubbing her fingers up and down the length of his muscled arm. "I love it when you hug me, wrap your arms around me. I feel surrounded by you, warm and safe. You're so strong, yet you can be so incredibly gentle. And your hands-"
Her hand slid over his that rested on her thigh, running over his fingers before picking it up and holding it between both of her hands, noting the significant size difference. "Your hands are one of my favorite things," she smirked.
"My hands? Really?" Sam chuckled, though she could see he was worked up from just her words, which made her swell with pride.
She held his hand, examining it with a smile as she ran her fingertips along the length of each finger. "Yeah, like how delicate they are when you turn a page. Or how dexterous when you wield a weapon," she grinned at him. "How gentle they are when you tend to my wounds and stitch me up, or how precise and deadly they can be when squeezing the life out of an enemy."
She bit her lip as she looked at him, taking note of how his breathing increased and he struggled to keep his eyes on the road. "Or when you're touching me, your fingers inside of me," she shuddered, feeling as if she were already climbing toward another orgasm, just remembering what he had done earlier. "So big and capable."
She kissed the tip of his middle finger before gently sucking on the tip, relishing his sharp intake of breath. She placed his hand back on her thigh as she leaned in and kissed along his jaw, her hand sliding down his torso to the bulge in his jeans, rubbing over the hardness beneath his denim.
"Fuuuck," Sam groaned. He absolutely loved every word she said and everything she was doing, but it was a struggle to focus on the road. He had to jerk the wheel back on course a few times as his head threatened to loll back on his shoulders.
She unfastened his jeans as she kissed along his neck, dragging her teeth against the hot and taut flesh, relishing his responding shudder. As she pulled his hard and leaking cock from its confines, Sam's head spun. He had this dream before, in which Y/N was eager for him, desperate to have him or to please him. But he was driving, and despite knowing it wasn't the safest idea, he gave only a half-hearted protest.
"Baby-"
"Eyes on the road, Sam," she teased before licking a long strip up his cock and sucking on the tip before taking him into the back of her throat with a satisfied hum.
Sam cursed, his hips bucked, and he righted the wheel again as he veered slightly out of the lane. He kept looking down between her and up at the road, fighting as his head rolled back and his eyes threatened to close. Her mouth was so warm and wet, her suction and throat tight. Fuck, it was going to take no time at all to make him cum.
After only a few short minutes of her efforts, Sam had to pull off the side of the road, ignoring the honk of the car behind him as it swerved and sped past. Throwing the car into park, he relaxed back in the seat, letting his eyes close and head fall back. One hand gripped the wheel hard, the other tangled in her hair as he came with a roar and a hiss down her throat.
She took every drop he gave, swallowing it down, before sitting back in her seat with a triumphant grin. Catching his breath, he looked at her as she wiped the corners of her mouth with her thumb, then sucked the digit clean of the remnants. Fuck, he could already feel himself hardening again from just that sight.
He tugged her in harshly by the back of the neck, kissing her hungrily and nipping at her lip. "God, I want you so bad," he said, resting his forehead against hers and holding her close.
"Then I guess we should hurry home," she teased.
He groaned, kissing her again before tucking himself away in his pants. A quick look over his shoulder, and Sam merged back onto the highway, his foot a little heavier as he rushed to get her home and struggled with his decision to wait to have her.
-
Several hours later, Sam sighed in relief as the Bunker came into view. He drove the car down the long tunnel to the underground garage and parked Y/N's car in its assigned spot. As he cut off the engine, he felt like things were slipping back into place, back into their version of normal. But the Impala was not there, and Sam quickly shot a text to his brother, who should have beaten them home.
Still doing wedding stuff. Cas is with me. Might be a couple days.
Sam chuckled at the thought of Dean and Castiel shopping for a wedding, his rough and rugged older brother and a billion-year-old celestial being, arguing over decorations and cake flavors. He glanced at Y/N, passed out in the passenger seat, and his smile shifted to something softer, warmer.
"Y/N?" He tried gently waking her by caressing her arm and shaking her lightly as she slowly woke up. "Baby, we're home."
She groaned and stretched, and Sam bit his lip as his eyes trailed over her body. It was hard enough not to just take her like he wanted, like they both wanted, especially when she'd been teasing him and driving him crazy the whole drive home. But he reminded himself that she was more than worth the wait.
"Where's Dean?" she asked as they walked inside.
"Still shopping, I guess," Sam shrugged, and Y/N chuckled.
When she turned down the hall to head to her room instead of Sam's, he paused, trying to tug her by the hand in his direction, but her feet stayed stubbornly planted as she smirked at him.
"Thought you might want to go back to sleep," Sam said, tugging her into his arms where he felt she belonged.
"I do," she said, kissing the corner of his mouth and pulling herself from his arms. "In my room."
"Okay," he said, trying not to pout over not having her in his bed. It's not like he'd been thinking about it the whole ride or anything. When he tried to move towards her room, however, he was stopped by her hand on his chest. "What?"
"I'm going to my room, and you're going to yours," she said, like it was obvious.
"Why?" Sam ignored the hint of a whine in his voice, but she didn't, as she chuckled again. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," she shook her head, that cute smile still on her face, and Sam wanted to kiss it away, kiss her senseless until she changed her mind. "We're not married yet, and we're supposed to sleep in separate rooms."
"Oh, come on!" Sam playfully complained, regretting his decision more and more, though Y/N was clearly amused by the whole thing.
"Nope," she remained steadfast. "You want the tradition and waiting til marriage and all that, so that's what we're doing."
"I change my mind," Sam quickly responded, wrapping her in his arms and kissing down her neck. "We don't have to wait."
She cupped his face and kissed him soundly, "Goodnight, Sam."
He stood in the hallway, watching her walk away, his eyes glued to her ass as her hips swayed with every step. He fought the urge to chase after her, though every muscle in his body itched to do so. He knew she was teasing him, riling him up, making him pay for the decision to wait. He hadn't anticipated just how much she wanted him, as much as he wanted her. As he went to bed alone, he texted his brother to hurry home. He wasn't sure he could handle more days of this torment.
Y/N was determined to try to make him break. Sam was notorious for his self-control, and when he was determined, he wouldn't be deterred. She saw it as a sort of challenge, and even if she couldn't break him, she could rile him up, and maybe on their wedding night she would get to see Sam snap, lose control, and claim her entirely. The thought alone sent shivers through her, and she amped up her efforts.
The first day back was pretty tame, settling back into life in the Bunker. She still felt like Y/N, like his best friend, with the added bonus that he could yank her down across his lap and kiss her silly whenever he wanted until she giggled and he finally released her.
The second day was torture, and Sam would know. It started when he woke from an intense dream that left his boxer briefs wet and sticky. Throughout the day, it seemed every little thing Y/N did was designed to draw out his torment. The way she'd walk and sway her hips or bend with her ass on display, the way she wore a low-cut top, her breasts pushed up and spilling over, the way she dropped innuendos every chance she got, or drew attention to her mouth with the tip of a pen or chewed on her finger in thought.
When she came out of the bathroom in only a towel, her hair and skin wet, her dirty laundry gripped in one hand, Sam had flashbacks to the motel. He was glad that Dean was gone as he had her cumming on his tongue and fingers multiple times in the middle of the hallway, pressed against the cool tiled wall as her screams of pleasure echoed around him, her towel and clothes forgotten.
The third day was by far the hardest, and Sam found himself wishing Dean would get home already and also that he'd stay away, 'cause Sam was sure he and Y/N would break and give in at any moment. From the time they woke up, they'd sought each other out, unable to stop touching or kissing. He'd made her cum on his fingers before coffee, and she'd nearly sucked his soul out of his body on her knees in the kitchen, thanking him for breakfast.
Sam increasingly had to fight to maintain control, desperate to fuck her hard until they both came screaming. But he forced himself to maintain control, enjoying the build-up and little bits of release. She had no idea what kind of trouble and payback she was in for when he finally had her on his cock.
By the end of the third day, though, Sam began to worry about his brother. It shouldn't take three days or more to shop for a few things, and it wasn't like they were doing anything elaborate that required reservations or anything. At least, Sam hoped that wasn't what Dean was doing. He really wasn't sure he could survive another day of wanting to bury himself balls deep inside of Y/N, or even another day to make her his wife like he'd been craving.
Turns out, he needn't worry.
A few hours after he stopped focusing on the throbbing need of his cock and started spiraling over his brother and his whereabouts, the Bunker door finally opened. Sam relaxed as soon as he heard Dean and Cas from where he now stood from his chair at the map table, though he quickly tensed again as they bickered on their descent into the War Room.
Sam chuckled and blushed in embarrassment over their marriage-like antics as the two men recounted their endeavors. Castiel complained about Dean's perfectionism, while Dean chastised Cas's color choices.
"He couldn't even help with the cakes, because he couldn't taste them," Dean laughed.
"It all just tastes like molecules," he complained, turning to Sam. "It's not very appetizing."
"No, yeah, I'm sure," Sam awkwardly replied, though he was touched by how much they seemed invested in this. "I guess I was just worried something had happened. It was a while."
Cas stared at Dean, who shrugged defensively and glared back with a silent 'what'. Cas sighed, "Dean hooked up with the bakery owner, so it took an extra night and day."
"We had chemistry," Dean defended, then smirked. "Besides, she gave me a great deal on the cake."
Cas and Sam groaned and rolled their eyes in unison.
-
It was another day and a half, nearly thirty-six hours, before Sam was putting on his suit for the wedding, and he had suffered, in one way or another, almost the entire time. In stark contrast to the last few days, Y/N insisted on a celibacy of sorts and did not allow any touch or hugs or kisses, which of course made Sam itch all the more for it, any of it, and all of her.
Then Dean came to him with an unexpected and possibly dangerous task that served as the perfect distraction, though he couldn't really be mad about it, considering how it had happened.
Dean had decided to make their wedding bands himself, from scratch. He chose angel blade metal for its durability and the white-gold sheen it gave off, and for its ability to protect them. It turns out, he needed a flame from the Forge of Heaven, which Castiel acquired, to melt and modify the metal. He was successful, and the rings were unique and stunning.
However, that left them with an eternal flame that could not be extinguished and which they figured might come in handy in the future, so Sam set out to find a way to store the ever-burning, bright-blue flame. It served as a welcome distraction while Dean assigned Castiel decorating duties with precise instructions, and took Y/N dress shopping.
Per Dean's detailed instructions, Castiel staged and decorated the area at the back of the Library, using the telescope alcove as an altar. The archway, decorated in flowers and vines, was for Castiel to stand beneath as he officiated, as Sam had requested. He had added flowers, streamers, balloons, and a plethora of decor that screamed dollar store, but was still placed with the utmost respect and attention to detail.
The Library table facing the alcove was also decorated with a small, simple two-tier wedding cake featuring generic male and female characters that bore no resemblance to Sam and Y/N, perched atop the frosted surface. Again, a detail that didn't matter to Sam but mattered to Dean and might matter to Y/N. What did matter to Sam was the thought and effort that went into everything.
Just like how Dean had been thoughtful enough to take Y/N shopping for a dress appropriate for the occasion, though Sam didn't think she owned a dress of any kind. He had told Sam that they found a beauty on the clearance rack at a small boutique in town, and that he and Y/N had a heart-to-heart. Sam was worried about what that meant and even more worried his brother might have given her a speech, but Dean wouldn't tell him and said it was between them, which Sam respected.
As she walked through the Library up to where the others waited for her, escorted by Dean, she looked like she walked right out of a dream in a dress made just for her. He thought maybe they had found an old prom dress or something, but she was stunning in a beautiful wedding gown. All Sam could see was the woman of his dreams ready to marry him, and he fought back the tears of overwhelming emotion that threatened him.
Y/N wasn't faring any better, on the verge of happy tears since Dean linked his arm with her to walk her to where Sam waited. She was more than surprised by how on board he was with everything, despite the rushed timeline, but she knew he, too, understood the importance of seizing the moment amid their uncertain lives.
As her eyes landed on Sam, wearing his fed suit and standing at the makeshift altar, her smile grew so wide it nearly hurt. It was far simpler and smaller than their wedding in the dream, which had been lavish and in a church. In retrospect, it probably should have raised a few warning flags in the dream, but she supposed acceptance was part of the venom at work.
Despite all that, it was more perfect than anything she could have dreamed up, because it was real, and Sam was waiting to be her husband. By the time they’d finished their vows and sealed them with a kiss, they were both silently crying tears of unrelenting joy. They kept it simple, neither of them artistic writers in any sense.
“I love you, Mrs. Winchester,” Sam teased with a grin, their foreheads pressed together as he cupped her face and breathed her in.
“I love you, too, Mr. Winchester,” she cheekily responded, and they laughed together.
They danced and laughed and drank and ate cake, and the four of them talked about what they'd endured to get here and what the future might hold, made even more special by sharing it with their closest friends and family, Dean and Castiel. Though she'd be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to the wedding night, alone with Sam, to connect and be together fully. It didn't help that Sam couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself; he always needed to hold, touch, or kiss her. She didn't mind, wanting it all the more, especially since they were allowed.
“Alright, you two,” Dean clapped his hands and grinned. “I packed a couple of bags in one of the cars for you.”
“You did?” Sam asked, confused. “Why?”
“Well, since I’m such an awesome brother, and technically the best man, I got you two a honeymoon suite for a few days. Here,” Dean handed over a slip of paper to Sam that had an address written on it.
“Dean, thank you,” Sam responded, genuinely grateful for all his brother had done to help make this happen. Dean loved Y/N too, like family, and to have him on board and so invested meant more to Sam than he could say.
“Yeah, yeah.” Dean waved them off.
As they hit the road, Sam interlocked their fingers, smiling over at her and admiring how stunning she was in her wedding dress, makeup, and hair. She was gorgeous and happy and all his. Dean had booked a honeymoon suite at a quaint, niche hotel in Overland Park, about four hours away. Dean had apparently discovered it while cake shopping and while planning other aspects of the wedding.
Sam had made his own plans for the long drive to keep things interesting and drive them both a little crazy. It was already dark outside, so he wasn't worried about being discovered, plus the roads were mostly empty as they drove the almost three hundred miles to the hotel. He kissed the back of her hand and released it as he smiled wickedly at her.
"Wanna play a little game?"
She smirked at his teasing tone, knowing he already had something wicked and probably delicious in mind. "What kind of game?"
"Hike up your dress for me," he nodded toward her flowing skirt, tucked into the passenger wheel well. It wasn't fluffy or big, but there was still a lot of it. When she complied, he bit his lip, seeing her thigh-high stockings, her garter, and the silky panties she wore. It was all white and smooth, shining prettily against her skin.
She parted her legs and looked over at him with an exaggerated, innocent pout, "Like this?"
She was so incredibly sexy, and despite how turned on he was, he was determined to work her up. With his left hand on the wheel, he moved his right to her panty-covered center and rubbed her through the thin and slick fabric. He focused on her clit, lowering down to tease at her entrance, and back up, but did not touch her skin directly.
She squirmed and moaned in the passenger seat, her legs spreading wider as her body silently begged for more, her hips canting against his hand. It didn't take long for her to start panting, showing the signs that she was nearing her release. Before she could get there, Sam removed his hand and sucked his fingers before placing them back on the wheel, smiling over at her with a shit-eating grin.
It took her a minute to catch her breath and realize what had happened. She was so close to cumming and Sam just stopped entirely. She looked over at him with a real pout, ready to vocalize her protests.
"Why did you stop?"
"Because I'm gonna keep edging you until we get there," he said.
"Seriously?"
She'd never done such a thing before, and the thought of it sounded like torture. But she could also see how hard Sam was just from fingering her while driving. It was torture for both of them, and if she thought she was desperate for him now…
"Okay," she agreed, fixing her skirt to at least cover her panties until he was ready to go again. But she had her own ideas of returning that torment.
Over the course of the drive, Sam had edged her another three times, one for each passing hour of their trip. Her panties were ruined, completely soaked through with her arousal. Sam had teased and fucked her pussy with his fingers every way he could from his position, leaving her desperate and whiny each time. And every time, he had to stop, curse, and grip his cock tight through his slacks.
Because every time he played with her, aroused her, and teased her, she retaliated with words. She told him how good it felt, how good he was to her, how much she wanted his cock, to feel him fuck her nice and deep. She begged him to pull over, to let her cum on his cock, ride him until they were both satisfied, though she knew he wouldn't. He clenched his jaw, stared at the road, and tried to pretend he wasn't as affected as he was.
When they finally arrived in Overland Park, they pulled into a surprisingly upscale hotel, and both Sam and Y/N were riled up to the point of breaking. Check-in was easy, as Dean had already registered and paid. Sam grabbed their bags from the trunk and wrapped his free arm around her waist as he guided them to their room for the next few days.
“Here we are,” Sam grinned, setting down their bags and unlocking the door. The room was large and beautiful, though clearly decorated for romance. His brother seemed to go all out, the bed covered in rose petals and a bottle of champagne waiting in a bucket.
Before Y/N could enter, Sam scooped her into his arms, pecking her lips before carrying her over the threshold and into the suite. He set her on her feet as she giggled, and he rushed to retrieve their bags before he kicked the door shut with his foot and dropped the bags haphazardly to the floor.
Y/N looked around the room, the king-sized bed the center of attention, complete with satin sheets and a cushioned, heart-shaped headboard. She flushed at the sight of the large mirrored ceiling just above the bed and turned to meet Sam's eyes. She shouldn't have been surprised; it was very on brand for Dean's idea of romance, but despite the tackiness, it all seemed more than perfect.
Sam smirked as he removed his jacket and tie, laying them over one of the chairs. He opened the bottle of champagne, and Y/N jumped at the sudden, loud pop of the cork, giggling as the bubbles overflowed and Sam cursed under his breath, struggling to contain the mess. He carefully poured two flute glasses, returned the bottle to the bucket filled with ice, and handed her one.
"To us?" Sam asked, holding his glass up for a toast.
Y/N grinned and held her glass the same, "To finally giving ourselves a chance?"
"To the family we'll make together," he added with a smirk.
They toasted and sipped, and the room grew quiet and a little awkward, neither of them sure what to do next, though they both had the same idea of where it would lead. Y/N downed her drink in a few sips, and Sam threw his back quickly, setting their glasses to the side on the table.
Y/N giggled in delight as Sam took her into his arms again, held her close, and kissed her passionately. His large, warm hands covered most of her back as he pressed their bodies together, unwilling to part for long, eager to make her his completely.
She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she and Sam were in love and married. It was like a dream. Well, no, she’d had this dream, and reality was much better. She grinned cheekily as her hands ran over his shoulders, and with his tie and jacket gone, it was no effort to start unbuttoning his shirt.
Sam grinned into the kiss that seemed to keep going, parting long enough to catch a quick breath, before meeting again and again. More than ready and a little impatient, Sam ripped his shirt open, surprising Y/N as the buttons flew across the room.
“Your shirt!” she giggled against his hungry mouth.
“I’ll buy a new one,” he chuckled, his now bare torso pressed against her.
She couldn’t complain as they continued hastily removing each other’s clothes. She had seen bits and pieces of Sam throughout their time together, but never all of him, and never where she was allowed to look and touch. Her hands and eyes were frantic as she roamed every inch of exposed flesh Sam offered to her. He was firm and warm and smooth, her hands enjoying every line and dip, her mouth and tongue teasing behind each caress.
Sam, too, couldn’t slow his movements or actions, almost starving and desperate to have her naked and writhing beneath him. He’d imagined it so many times and in so many ways. Now that the moment was upon him, he couldn’t decide where to start.
“My beautiful Wife,” Sam uttered once they were completely bare. She swooned, and he chuckled, picked her up, laid her back on the bed, and followed her down all in one fluid motion. Sam’s display of strength made her moan and grab onto him tightly, feeling his muscles flex beneath her hands.
“My handsome Husband,” she returned reverently. “I love you, Sam.”
“I love you, too, Y/N,” he whispered, kissing her deeply.
She parted her thighs, assuming he'd just go for it like nearly every man she'd been with before - not that there were many - but he surprised her as his lips moved down her neck, and his fingers expertly found her clit.
"Sam!" she cried as he slid two fingers into her core, his thumb continuing to toy with her sensitive button.
"Mmm, love that sound," he hummed against the swell of her breast, before taking a nipple between his lips and flicking it with his tongue. She released a shocked, high-pitched moan, and he grinned up at her. She was embarrassed by how close she was to coming already. "That sound was even better."
His voice was thick with arousal as he kissed his way down her body, spreading her thighs wider with his large hands, making room for his broad shoulders as he leveled his face with her pussy. His eyes glistened with hunger as he licked his lips. It was the hottest thing she'd ever seen.
His eyes fluttered shut as he opened his mouth wide and licked a broad stripe from her entrance to her clit, and back down, delving deep inside of her with a vibrating moan. With his tongue lapping at her sensitive walls and his nose rubbing perfectly at her clit, she came screaming. Sam sucked her clit hard as he slid his fingers inside her again, working her through the intense orgasm.
He reluctantly pulled himself away from her center, kissing up her body. He was rewarded by the sight of her: skin flushed, a light sheen of sweat, hair wild, and panted breaths. She was stunningly beautiful, better than he'd imagined, and he felt a swell of pride knowing he did that.
When her eyes finally opened and looked at him, he grinned at the intense lust and love he found in their depths. She ran her fingers through his hair, grabbed fistfuls in each hand, and tugged him down to crash their lips together in a sloppy and hungry kiss. The head of his cock rubbed between her folds and bumped against her clit as his hips ground into hers, making her buck needily beneath him.
He dropped his gaze between them, gripped his cock in his hand, and ran it through her folds, teasing her entrance and spreading her wetness as she bucked and whined.
"Can I have you just like this?" Sam asked, keeping up the teasing to enjoy her desperate struggle. "Can I come inside of you?"
Sam's deep, breathy voice made her moan; his hips and cock made her desperate for him just to take her. But despite her long-held breeding kink and Sam's utterly sensuous words, she had to maintain some sensibility.
"I'm not on anything, Sam."
He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers in a gentle and intimate gesture that made her heart flutter. "I know," he whispered, a slight tremor in his voice. "I'm not saying we try," he flashed a crooked smirk. "But maybe we just…let things happen?"
Her hips bucked sharply, and Sam grinned as he continued teasing the bulbous head through her drenched folds. She cupped his face and kissed him deep and slow, barely able to control her lustful reaction to his decree.
"I wanna feel you, Sam," she said, tilting her hips to try and encourage him inside. Reaching a hand between them, Sam lined up and slid deep within her warm and wet core in one smooth and slow stroke. They broke the kiss only to gasp into each other's open mouths the moment he bottomed out.
Sam was longer and thicker than anything she'd experienced before, stretching her wide and reaching deep to caress areas she'd never felt. She shouldn't have been surprised, as everything about Sam was large. But he'd managed to exceed her fantasies and the dream.
He took in every detail of her face and body, caressing her sides to soothe her as she adjusted to the intrusion. He was in awe, disbelieving that this was finally happening. They were married, and his bare cock was buried against her cervix, ready for him to make her his completely.
Testing, he adjusted his hips and gently nudged forward, watching her face for every little detail. She smirked and wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, and braced herself. Sam pulled out slowly, then thrust forward swiftly, repeating the action as she gasped and moaned.
He fell into a steady pace, a rock and grind as he pressed deep within her on each thrust. He wanted her to feel every inch of him, now and later. It took a great deal of effort for Sam to remain slow, to draw out the moment and sensations instead of claiming her hard and rough as his lust demanded.
Y/N was losing her mind. With his mouth and fingers, Sam brought her immense pleasure. The feeling of him inside of her, making her hyper aware of every movement, feeling his muscles flex, tense with restraint. Her mind reminded her that he was hers entirely, and she was his.
Sam shifted his hips and found the spot inside that made her gasp and cling to him desperately. He tried again, grinning once he realized. Increasing his pace, he rubbed her clit with his thumb, moaning when she clenched around him, and her eyes widened.
"Sam!" It was part surprise, part a desperate plea. It was so intense, so good, that it bordered on too much.
"It's okay," he soothed. "I got you. I'm right here. Trust me, just let go." He was desperate for it, to feel her clenching and squeezing his cock as she reached her climax. A few more thrusts, and she exploded as his cock hit that right spot inside of her.
"Sam!"
Planting his hands on either side of her head, Sam allowed his need to drive him, fucking her hard and fast as he could manage, extending her high while chasing his own. When he finally came with a long and loud roar, he pressed his hips firmly against hers, letting his cum flow deep, before his hips continued a slow and lazy thrusting to draw it out.
Slowly withdrawing, he knelt between her parted legs, taking in every detail as they both caught their breath. Her skin was flushed and sweaty, adorned with minor marks from his fingers or mouth. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breaths, her breasts shaking with the effort. Her pussy was swollen, her hole stretched, but what really caught his eye was the white cum - his cum - dripping out of her.
He groaned, bracing one hand on her thigh as the other scooped up the dripping and pushed them back inside with two fingers. She whimpered, and Sam couldn't resist, fitting back between her legs as he slid deep within her a second time. They were both sensitive, but Y/N eagerly welcomed him as he set a quick pace with short thrusts, and their sensitivity brought mutual orgasms much faster than before.
Finally spent and satisfied, Sam withdrew and stumbled to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. He dampened the fabric and returned to the bed, shushing her as he gently cleaned her up. Once satisfied, he quickly wiped himself and tossed the cloth aside. He climbed back into the bed, drawing Y/N into his arms, and she went willingly, her body lax as he curled himself around her.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she grinned, forcing her eyes open and head back to meet his gaze and smiling face. "That was amazing."
"You're amazing," he replied. Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes, playfully slapping his chest and snuggling back into him. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she whispered as she quickly fell to sleep.
-
Y/N sighed as she stood in the kitchen, finishing the dishes from lunch, and gazing out the window. The sun shone brightly on the large, old oak in the front yard, and she smiled at the four children running around the tree, the smallest and youngest barely able to walk, let alone keep up. She sighed and stretched, a hand on the curve of her back for support as she did. Their fifth child was growing fast within her belly, and she only had two months before they'd get to meet them.
As she went to the front porch to call in the children, they all erupted into cheers, jumping up and down, as Uncle Dean's black Impala sped down the long dirt driveway towards their small farmhouse. As soon as she'd discovered she was pregnant with their first child, Sam insisted on finding them a home, outside of the Bunker, where the kids would have windows and a yard.
Though he still commuted to the Bunker to prepare for cases or handle other hunting-related issues, they found a place just outside the Lebanon town limits and, with Dean's help, bought it and fixed it up. Now it was home, and Dean had his own guest room too, since he often slept over or stayed for dinner or family events. He was very active in the children's lives, just as their father was.
The Winchester Brothers climbed out of the parked Impala, massive smiles gracing their faces as the kids bombarded them with excited greetings, hugs, and prattle about their time apart. They all tackled and dogpiled on Dean before Sam could even get a hello from each other. He feigned offense before turning his attention to his beautiful, pregnant wife on the porch of their home.
"Hello, Wife," Sam grinned, cupping her large belly with one big hand as he kissed her tenderly.
"Hello, Husband," Y/N responded, smiling through the kiss. She was always happy when they returned from a hunt, especially when they were uninjured. Many times, it wasn't the case when Sam came home broken, and the reunion was anything but happy. So she always appreciated the better moments when they happened.
"How are my girls?" Sam asked, kneeling and using both hands as the baby began kicking.
"Good," Y/N smiled down at him, running her fingers through his hair. "She missed you, too, it seems," she sighed as the kicks grew rapid and harder.
"Go easy on your Mom, Baby," Sam spoke to her belly, grinning when the child settled. He stood back on his feet and wrapped his arms around her, pecking her lips again and again. "Do you need anything? Dean's gonna entertain the kids for a little while so I can take care of you. Whatever you want."
"Whatever I want?" she replied sultrily, biting her lip. "I want a bath, a massage, and a nap," she admitted with a chuckle.
Sam laughed with her. "Done," he said, pecking her lips and guiding her inside their home.
Life was better and more real than any djinn dream or fantasy could ever be. And neither the djinn nor her own mind really understood that Sam had a breeding kink and just how much he loved seeing her pregnant. But as long as she had support and financial means to care for them properly, she'd have all the kids with him. Sam - her best friend, her husband, the father of her children, and the love of her life - was a dream come true.
FOREVERS:
@lyarr24
@hobby27
@kazsrm67
@maliburenee
@440mxs-wife
@writercole
@spnbaby-67
@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone
@leigh70
@laycblack
@kr804573
@nancymcl
@yourcherrykisser
SAM WINCHESTER:
@b3autyfuldisast3r
Claymation
In the early 70s Sesame Street was created with an eye towards educating poor, inner-city children for free, and became a massive hit with all children. In 2016, faced with going off the air forever after facing conservative efforts to destroy public broadcasting since basically its beginning, new episodes became a timed exclusive for premium cable network HBO. In 2022 HBO Max, newly merged with and taken over by reality TV channel Discovery, removed Sesame Street episodes and spin-offs from streaming as a tax write-off and scheme to avoid paying residuals.
Sesame Street's official YouTube channel is uploading the episodes for free, btw. A lot of creators are rebelling against this bullshit.
Sesame Street on PBS KIDS. Play games with Elmo, Big Bird, Abby and all of your Sesame Street friends. Watch videos and print coloring pages
As always, America, PBS has you and your kids' backs.
I also want to put in a plug for the American Archive of Public Broadcasting, spearheaded by GBH in Boston to preserve and make available public funded programming from around the country. More than 7000 public television and radio programs are available to stream through the website, with more than 40000 hours of programming archived and available to researchers and educators through the Library of Congress and GBH itself.
https://americanarchive.org/
Lovely to see we have spaces where you can gain access to so much literature!
Fuck you I was expecting comedy and now I'm crying?!
This is beautiful.
Bumpy Beginnings
Summary: Y/N didn't fraternize with Alphas, and she wouldn't risk attachments that could bring innocents into her hunting life. That all changed when she met her Alpha.
Characters: Alpha!Dean Winchester/Omega!F!Hunter!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester, OCs
Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Angst, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex, Knotting, Dirty Talk, Teasing), Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries/Scars
WC: 8,570
A/N: This one has been in my WIPs for years. Feels good to finally get it right and share it. Let me know what you think! : )
My Masterlist
Y/N sighed as she threw her car into park. Sitting at the back of the lot, she eyed the busy bar hesitantly. As an isolated loner and a hunter of things that go bump in the night, she didn't enjoy the socializing and hunting she was about to embark on. But the mild twinge of pain in her belly reminded her why she was there.
Bang-A-Beta night, as she took to calling her monthly need, was a biological necessity for an Omega like her. Her heat was never something she relished. As a hunter, she couldn't allow herself to mate, to bring an innocent into her chaotic life.
On top of that, she'd never had good interactions with Alphas. Truth be told, she was scared of them, especially of being claimed and belonging to another. Alphas were known for being possessive and controlling. She was independent and wasn't interested in being some Alpha's bitch.
She wanted a partner and equal, someone who would understand and accept her life and her calling. So she made a point to never be with an Alpha, not even a True Mate—if one even existed—and resigned herself to Beta hookups that could satiate her needs and allow her to keep living her life, attachment-free.
However, her Omega side still yearned to belong to someone —her Alpha. She hated that a part of her wanted an Alpha at all. She wished she could erase it from herself entirely, but it wasn't possible. Sure, she could use suppressants and blockers to tamp down the effects of her biology and heats. But in her line of work, heightened senses were paramount, and after a few hunts gone sideways, she gave up on medications entirely.
Another twinge in her belly pushed her into action. Grabbing her things and checking her appearance, she climbed out of her car and sauntered inside. It didn't take long to find her friends, Sherry and Drew, sitting at a high table. She had met the Omegas a year ago, and a few towns over, on a case. Vampires had befallen their small village, preferring Omega victims for their rich and nourishing blood. Y/N had decapitated the foul creatures and rescued the pair, the only survivors.
She was surprised and grateful to have made friends, Omegas at that, who also knew of her hunting life. They'd invited her along on their search to find someone to help with their heats, and she'd met up with them nearly every month since.
With three Omegas in varying stages of heat, it didn't take long for people to make their way over. Drew took an immediate interest in a cute Beta who joined them. The two hit it off remarkably well, and Y/N briefly wondered if maybe Drew had landed himself a more long-term thing. It sent a pang of longing shooting through her that she drowned with the remainder of her beer.
"I'll get the next round," she offered, heading quickly to the bar. She placed her order, then glanced around the bar. It was slim pickings, for sure, and she sighed as she faced the bar again, knowing she'd likely go without.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a warm and comforting scent, which had her lifting her head to find its source. She looked to her side and found the source, a new patron she hadn't seen before, sitting with one stool between them. He was incredibly handsome and large. He was definitely an Alpha. His presence and appearance were enough if she couldn't tell by his scent. She expected to feel the familiar panic at realizing he was an Alpha, but instead, she felt a sense of calm, comfort, and familiarity.
"Hi, I'm Sam," he said with a soft smile.
"Y/N," she responded, taking another breath of his scent.
He was starting his rut, she could tell. But it wasn't arousing her. If anything, it brought out the caregiver side of her Omega. She wanted to tuck him in bed, bring him food and water, and drag an Omega by the hair for him to fuck and knot if he needed. It was admittedly a strange reaction to have, but she didn't let herself ponder it too much.
"Have we met?" he asked, his curious gaze sweeping over her, and she couldn't fight back the hearty chuckle.
"I was just thinking the same thing. But I'm sure I'd never forget that face," she added with a playful smirk. Another cramp broke through her, harsher than before, and she winced aloud.
Sam's curiosity turned to concern as he reached out to steady her. "Are you okay?" he asked before her blossoming scent reached his nose. "Do you…wanna get out of here?" he whispered as he leaned closer.
She shook her head, feeling better now that the cramp had passed, and gently pushed his hands from her. "No, I-I don't fraternize with Alphas," she explained apologetically. He nodded and retreated in disappointment, and she felt compelled to make it right. "I'm here with friends," she pointed at her table. "I know my friend Sherry would definitely be interested."
Sam seemed to think it over, glancing back at the table, his eyes dilating at the sight of her pretty and petite friend, before looking back at Y/N with a brilliant smile. "Okay, sure, thanks."
Half an hour later, Drew and his Beta were heavily making out and drunk, and Sam and Sherry hit it off even better than she'd anticipated. Y/N, however, was ready to give up the search. She was tired and disappointed and didn't find anyone even remotely interesting to take home for the night.
Satisfied that her friends at least found good company, she decided to call it a night. Leaving the bar, Y/N bid farewell to her friends as they matched with their conquests for the night. She sighed heavily at the fact that she was going home alone. That happened far too frequently for her liking.
One of these days, her heat would kill her if a hunt hadn't already done her in. She was prepared for it, either way—that was the life of a hunter. And just one more reason why she could never mate and bond, could never bring someone else into her chaotic life.
Slinking away to her car, the roar of an engine made her jump as she fiddled with her keys. She stood to the side as a sleek, black Chevy Impala glided into a spot several spaces from her car in the back of the lot. Her eyes were glued to the antique beauty as she approached her car, her eyes only leaving it as she reached her driver's side door.
A loud drone of music came from within the classic car, which promptly shut off as the rumbling engine died. She heard the door creak, and a deep, gravely voice made her gasp and pause, her keys dangling in her hand.
"What do you mean you just left?" the man growled, "I just got here."
She couldn't resist the urge to turn her head and steal a glance at the mysterious stranger with the delicious voice that tantalizingly scraped down her spine. He was gorgeous: tall and lean, with a chiseled jaw and eyes that captured the light from the street lamps and sparkled. He also had an air of danger about him that scared her to no end. She could tell from the various cuts and bruises that he had been in a fight recently. Maybe he was a professional fighter? Perhaps he was a dick, and someone put him in his place? Maybe he was in an accident? None of which seemed to detract from his unbelievable attractiveness.
Turning her attention back to her car, she struggled with her keys again, her hands shaking. While she couldn't smell the man from her position, thankfully, she could tell straight off he was an Alpha from his body to his car to how unbelievably attractive he was - all designed to lure an Omega like her. She was already fighting the effects of that alone.
She finally got her key into the door lock as a gentle breeze drifted by. It, again, made her pause as it swirled a hint of his scent her way, causing her body to spasm in need. Her heat was going to be a bitch this time, and this Alpha wasn't making it any better. She heard his footsteps pause, and she glanced at him again. He sniffed the air curiously before his searching gaze landed directly on her.
She whimpered.
Swallowing deeply and cursing under her breath, she finally opened her car, promptly dropping her keys again before she could get in.
"Hey there."
She gasped, stepping back into her open door, cursing the lack of space to get farther. He was right in front of her, about a foot between them, and he smirked as he leaned casually against the side of her car. Holy fuck, he was even more incredible up close, and some primal part of her was even more aroused by the blood and bruising that adorned him. She could smell him clearly, too; it was the best scent she'd ever encountered.
"You seem to be struggling with your keys there," he said, picking them off the ground and handing them back to her. She gripped them tightly like a lifeline. "Are you sure you're good to drive?"
His voice, this close, rumbled through her, and she gasped for breath, but that only brought more of his scent into her lungs. It traveled through her nose and down the back of her throat, curling in her belly, and she stifled a whimper as she moved to get in the car.
Oh, this was bad.
In that instant, she knew that this stranger was her Alpha. It should have soothed her, but it only made her more panicked. She was not ready to meet her Alpha. Ever. Especially not one as potent as he, one who seemed to be the Alpha in any room he entered.
"Uh, yeah, yep, all good." She settled into the driver's seat, ready to close the door, but Alpha held onto it as he leaned down to maintain eye contact. Fuck. It was like gazing at the night sky without light pollution, with all the stars and galaxies on full display. "T-thanks."
"Good to hear," he chuckled, and she felt a little faint. "Just one question though-"
She could feel the heat growing within her and fought to control the cramps and shakiness in her body. Their eyes remained locked, and she gasped as she forced herself to break the gaze.
"Yeah?"
"Why can I smell my brother on you?"
Her eyes widened at his words - and the accompanying light growl - as she leveled him with a questioning gaze. "I, uh…your brother?"
She was confused, to say the least, but allowed herself to breathe in another lungful of his scent. Her eyes fluttered, and a hum echoed in her throat. It was divine, but she could somehow sense a hint of something vaguely familiar.
"Did you meet a Sam in there by chance?"
No. Fucking. Way. Sam was this guy's brother? That family tree must be blessed.
"Yay tall, long hair?"
"Yeah, he's got the real Disney Princess get-up," he smirked. She thought he was even ten times more handsome when he smiled and laughed. Her heart needed to stop with the acrobatics. "That's my brother. Like I said, I can smell him on you. If he did something, I'll happily kick his ass."
She laughed, somewhat nervously, and shook her head, "No, he, uh…" She let out a deep breath. "My friend and I, it's a sort of routine for us to go out on nights like this," she started, glancing at him warily. "Anyway, she and Sam, uh, left together," she shrugged, focusing on her steering wheel as her brow furrowed. "I think they went to his motel?"
"Whoa…" he seemed surprised at that. "Good for Sam, I guess," he shrugged and looked back at Y/N. "So, is this you ditching out for the night? Hey, it looks like I'm on my own now, too. You're always welcome to join me for a drink. Name's Dean, by the way."
He grinned, his teeth bright and sharp, smile lines at the corners of his eyes. He winked, and she choked back a horrifically girlish giggle. God, why did it have to be like this? Why did her Alpha have to be so…so…fuck, he was like a walking wet dream. But no matter how much she may have wanted him, she couldn't bring him into her life. She refused to bring anyone down into her nightmare of a world.
"I should probably leave before I start attracting the wrong kind of attention," she said before looking up at him. "A-and I don't fraternize with Alphas," she added quickly, putting the keys in the ignition and starting the car. "Have a good night, Dean."
Y/N quickly threw the car in reverse, leaving the lot. She glanced in the rearview and saw her Alpha, hands tucked into his pockets, in the mostly empty parking lot under a street lamp, his heavy, saddened gaze locked on her as she retreated. Alphas always put her on edge. She was grateful that it went as well as it did, though she cursed her biology for acting up in his presence.
She thought Sam had thrown her through a loop, but his brother was something else entirely. Sam was beautiful, tall and built, charming and well-spoken. But his scent was more like family, which, in retrospect, would make sense if his brother was her mate.
She decided to stop at the local twenty-four-hour mart, where she grabbed snacks and water to stock up. Her heat was about to hit hard, and she wouldn't have the pleasure of a Beta to help her through this time. Damn that stupid Alpha - Dean, her mind so helpfully reminded - and his delectable scent. She'd have to stay at the motel for a few days while dealing with this heat, using toys, and more than likely calling out to the Alpha she could never have.
Gathering her bags of purchases, she tossed them into the passenger seat as she climbed behind the wheel. Somehow, she could still smell that Alpha, as if his scent clung to everything around her, but it had dissipated. Her body craved more, but she rolled down the window through sheer stubbornness as she drove to her motel, hoping the scent would be gone. She just had to endure this heat, and then she could leave the town and Alpha far behind.
-
Dean had been having a really shitty day. He had been captured, knocked out, tied up, and beaten on the hunt. Sam had to save him, which was another hit to his ego. Then they booked it, stopping at a motel a few towns over.
He and Sam were desperate for a drink and maybe a little company for the night. His not-so-little little brother was on the edge of his rut, and Dean wasn't far behind. Sam took first dibs on the shower, and Dean allowed it because Sam had saved the day and earned it - though he wasn't about to admit it - and Sam barely had a scratch on him, so his shower would be reasonably quick.
Dean, on the other hand, needed a thorough cleaning. He had a few cuts and bruises from being beaten in captivity, but it wasn't too bad and wasn't anything he wasn't used to. It would definitely make it harder to find someone for the night, but he could always just get blackout drunk and try his luck another night, in another town.
By the time Dean finished his shower, the room was empty. He hoped his brother would've waited for him - and Sam usually would have - but Dean guessed his rut must be pretty bad this time. The hunt probably didn't help. When he arrived at the bar, he called Sam, but was pissed to find he'd already found someone and was gone. He was pissed, but to be honest, he was also a little proud.
Dean had intended to find company for the night when he pulled outside the bar, but all of that faded away the second her scent reached his nose. It was the best thing he had ever smelled in his life. Apple pie, Baby's leather, and something else he couldn't pinpoint that screamed home. He knew she was his, his Omega, his True Mate.
It froze him in his tracks, and his eyes fluttered closed as the Omega's warmth and sweet spiciness drifted deep into his lungs. He tried to talk to her and make a connection, but she was so frightened. He wondered if some asshole Alpha made her react that way.
His heart screamed and cracked as he helplessly watched her drive away from him, but maybe it was for the best. He couldn't bring anyone into his shitty life and condemn them to the world of the supernatural, to hunting.
After she left, he couldn't go inside the bar; her scent was the only thing his mind could or would focus on. He was initially scared of what that might mean, but quickly dismissed it. It wouldn't do him any good to linger on it. His rut was brewing under his skin, and it had been ages since he'd been with anyone, let alone an Omega. He was getting too old for this, and sooner or later, his rut or a hunt would be the death of him.
Dean frowned as he parked the Impala in front of his and Sam's motel room door. His bags sat on the stoop outside the door. He groaned and cursed under his breath, knowing his little bitch of a brother had claimed the room for the night. He knew they got the last room, which meant he'd spend the night in his car. Could his day get any fucking worse?!
Reluctantly, he retrieved his bags, and the sounds from inside the room had him scowling at the door. As pissed as Dean was for being kicked out of the room, he was happy for his brother. At least he could work out his rut and stop being such a pain in Dean's ass.
As he threw the bags in the trunk and closed it, another car pulled in several spots down the parking row. Dean squinted, recognizing the car as its owner climbed out with several store bags. The universe was seriously fucking with him hard today.
Closing up the car and turning towards her room, Y/N stopped as her eyes landed on the Alpha from the bar. Her Alpha. Dean. The one she thought she'd left behind. Her eyes widened in surprise before his scent hit her again, weakening her resolve. Her body was calling out for him, and she was genuinely pissed at how attracted she was to him. Still, she was determined to ignore the Omega inside her, crying out that this entirely desirable man is her Alpha.
She just needed to get to her room. Unfortunately, that meant walking past Dean, whose intense gaze she could feel locked on her. Panicking, she lowered her head and attempted to power-walk past him and his car to get to her room.
"Well, this would be twice where I've met you, and you've run away," Dean forced a laugh that came out awkwardly.
He'd caught her scent again and could tell her heat was breaking through; it was much more potent than before. He began to tremble, a slight growl reverberating involuntarily from deep in his chest.
Omega. Mine.
When she drove away, he was ready to let her go and mourn her loss. But seeing her again, twice in one night, he convinced himself to try again. Maybe the universe was pulling them together? Perhaps he just needed to try harder?
"I-I'm not interested in Alphas," she hurriedly explained as she kept moving.
She could feel his presence and hear his steps as he followed behind her, exuding Alpha pheromones that called out to her Omega. Although she struggled to focus, she reached her door.
"Not even yours?"
She turned towards him, her eyes widened slightly, and she tried to bite back the moan from his declaration, "I'm not... you're not my-" her voice was weak, and she failed to vocalize her blatant lie.
She was only slightly surprised he could feel it, but it confirmed what she already knew. She was more surprised that he'd called it out, and what that did to her Omega. She felt that part of her was trying to claw its way out of her body and into his, but she continued to fight it. She knew he was right, but the ordeal was terrifying, especially after she had convinced herself she didn't want or need an Alpha.
She didn't want to bring him into this life, her messy hunting life. He may be tough, with whatever he'd been through that did that to his face, but hunting and the supernatural were something else entirely. She'd seen hardened former soldiers and trained hunters alike caught in the web and die, thinking it was something simple they could handle. Eventually, they all die, brutal and bloody.
Dean dared to step closer since she seemed to forget about running away from him temporarily. He felt like he was approaching a cornered animal, trying to gain its trust so he could close in. He again wondered who or what had made her so scared of Alphas.
"You feel it, too, don't you?" Dean said, keeping his voice low, scent as calm as possible in his rapidly declining condition, and a light smile. He tried to be as non-threatening as an Alpha on the cusp of rut could be. He was close enough to reach out and touch her, but he refrained, not sure he could handle it if she recoiled from him.
“You don’t…I’m not…” Y/N's voice was shaky, her eyes closed as her body trembled, his scent drowning out everything else.
Her brain wouldn't function well enough to form a coherent thought. It was only her heightened threshold for pain, after a lifetime of hunting, that allowed her to conceal just how much he was affecting her partially. But he could see, smell, and hear enough to know that she wouldn't be able to walk away again. He knew he sure as hell couldn't unless she slammed the door in his face. He hoped that didn't happen. He didn't need yet another reason to sulk off to his car like a kicked puppy after the shittiest of days.
"Will you at least tell me your name, Omega?"
God, just hearing him say Omega in that tone, with his sexy voice, had her insides doing Cirque du Soleil. She could smell his rut approaching, which only made her Omega want him more. Maybe she could, just this once, have an Alpha. Maybe they could satiate each other's cycles and move on without a claim or attachment. A taste could be enough to tide her over for a lifetime.
"Y/N," she breathed.
"Y/N," he whispered in response, and she clenched her thighs against how beautiful her name sounded on his tongue, like she was precious, something to be treasured.
"Dean," she whined.
His responding growl told her he liked his name on her tongue, too, and she whimpered as the sound sent a particularly cruel cramp rolling through her body. She would have slumped or doubled over if Dean hadn't rushed forward to catch her. His touch was so much worse if she thought his scent had afflicted her. She was struggling to fight her biology, and she was quickly losing the battle. She'd felt everything her Omega had been craving since her first heat in that one touch.
Dean was struggling just as much. His Alpha was clamoring for control, taking all his willpower to hold him at bay. Her scent, her touch, and the lust clouding her eyes all screamed for the Alpha to take and claim. But Dean was never that kind of Alpha and wasn't about to lose control with the one Omega he'd been waiting for.
"Alpha," she said, gently resting a hand on his chest as his arms wrapped around her and pressed their bodies together. All she wanted was to give in to her biology, to give it what it was craving - him.
He breathed heavily, chest heaving against her palm as their eyes locked. "Your heat, your scent-" he huffed, and she moaned, "Those sounds," he lowered his head to sniff delicately at her neck, "-It's driving me fucking nuts." He pressed harder into her, taking another deep breath and groaning, "I need you, Omega."
She whimpered, nodding emphatically, feeling the firm muscles of his body pressed against her. Her rational mind was quickly dissolving into nothing, leaving only the Omega at the mercy of her Alpha. Her head dropped to his shoulder as her body shook with more cramps, her temperature rose rapidly, and her jeans grew uncomfortable from the slick she produced. Her cheeks heated up at the realization that he could probably smell it, and she whined again.
"Alpha," was all she could mutter as her hands clung to him.
"Fuck," he groaned into her neck, allowing his lips to trail across her skin.
He could taste the salty droplets of sweat that had collected on her body as her temperature rose dramatically. Her skin was hot, and her scent intensified so fiercely that he thought he would drown in it. He clenched his teeth, feeling the painful bulge straining against his jeans as he ground his hips into her involuntarily.
He snaked his fingers through her hair on either side of her head, pulling her to look him in the eyes before he harshly collided his mouth with hers. A growl rumbled across his lips as he deepened the kiss quickly, pushing her against the wall as moans vibrated in his throat.
"If there weren't laws against it, I'd have you right here and now," he whispered across her lips.
"Silly laws," she moaned, trying to make a joke, but her voice was already so wrecked.
"We should go to your room," Dean uttered against her lips, their scents intense even in the open air. He looked around, ensuring no one was in sight. "Like...now."
Grinning and chuckling, she pushed him back enough to move away from the wall, took him by the hand, and dragged him to her room. Dean paused to scoop up her forgotten purchases from the walkway before letting her lead him to her room. Slamming the door behind them, Dean dropped her bags on the table, slowly letting his eyes take in all of Y/N as she stood before him.
"A-are you okay?" Dean stuttered, his head foggy and thick with urges.
It wasn't the first time he'd hooked up with someone he barely knew. It wasn't the first time he had someone to help him through his rut, or to help an Omega through their heat. Yet, everything was different because this wasn't just someone.
"I've never been with an Alpha. But I... I'm okay," she nodded and bit her lip.
Swallowing hard and closing her eyes against the painfully consuming heat, she swayed on her feet slightly. All these feelings and sensations were unlike anything she'd felt or experienced before. It frightened and excited her at once, leaving her thoroughly confused and hazy, with her need for Dean as the only thing she could focus on.
"You don't need to be scared," he said, closing the distance between them and snaking an arm around her waist. "I mean, if you'll have me-" he leaned back into her neck, breathing deeply and letting her scent flood him "-I'll protect you." He softly kissed her skin, moving along her collarbone with each statement. "I'll take care of you" -another kiss, deeper with a nip on the skin- "I'll fucking worship you." His hand bunched in her hair as his lips connected with her eager mouth again, hoping she'd let him prove his words.
With every word, touch, and kiss, she became dizzy, drunk on all that was Dean. She trembled and moaned as he continued placing kisses along her neck and shoulders. Sighing softly, her hands roamed his body, fingers digging into his back to pull him closer, wholly caught up in what he was doing to her.
Dean was lost, too. He found every inch of her neck to kiss, trailing along her jaw and back up to her lips, where he groaned and captured them hungrily. He pulled back for a moment, kicking off his boots and removing his layers of shirts - and she was quick to do the same, sounds of fabric tearing from both as they rushed to reveal themselves - before diving back in to devour her mouth, guiding her back towards the bed with his hands firmly on her hips.
She was down to her bra and panties, Dean left in his jeans that were rapidly growing uncomfortable, as they landed in a heap on the bed, the old springs groaned from the sudden weight. They let their eyes roam, and Dean noticed she had a couple of gnarly scars - including one that looked like a bite in her side, just above her hip - and a few smaller ones scattered about.
He wondered if she had been in an accident or had a nasty fight. Maybe it was a bad relationship, and that's why she didn't like or trust Alphas. He focused on the healed bite - not a mating type, but hateful, angry, and deep - and ran his fingers gently over the marred skin. She flinched, and he knew she was worried about his thoughts. He leaned down and gently kissed over the wound with the gentlest of touches.
He lifted his eyes to hers, glad to see her watching him, and asked, "What happened?"
Y/N cupped Dean's cheek, and her heart fluttered when he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She knew she couldn't tell him the truth. He'd think she was crazy and probably walk out on her. She wouldn't blame him. But she couldn't exactly lie to him either.
"Was a bad run-in with a ghoul of a man," she lightly chuckled, trying to brush off its severity. But Dean's gaze remained concerned as his fingers fluttered over another, the same questioning gaze meeting hers. "A real shifty bitch who jumped out from an alley," she sighed and closed her eyes.
She knew he couldn't grasp her meaning, but it was enough truth to scrape by. God, she wanted his questions to stop before she revealed something she couldn't brush off.
"I've just had shitty luck most of my life," she shrugged.
Dean had quite a few scars, which made her wonder about him. Her fingers drifted over a peculiar cluster against his shoulder.
He chuckled and shrugged, like she had, "Tripped and fell out a pane window."
He couldn't explain to her that he was tackled through that window by a two-hundred and sixty-pound werewolf. The glass shattered, and Sam later had to pick out the glass remnants with tweezers.
Instead, he covered her body with his and kissed her passionately as his hands ran under her back to undo and remove her bra. Y/N moaned against his lips, and he responded by grinding his hips against her and slipping his tongue in her mouth when she gasped from the friction.
"You're mine," Dean said admiringly, grazing a thumb along her cheek.
His solid claim had her cupping his face and drawing his lips back to hers, whimpering as another cramp rolled through her. "Alpha…" she breathed against his lips. "Please."
"Fuck…" he growled into her neck, his hips rolling into hers of their own accord. "Say 'please' again."
"You like begging, Alpha?" she teased, nipping at his bottom lip and tugging on the waist of his jeans. "Make me," she challenged, her lips hovering against his.
"Oh yeah?" his eyes turned dark as he smirked knowingly. "You need to be careful what you wish for, Omega."
He tucked his finger beneath the cotton, his large hands stretching the material too far, and there was a small rip in one of the seams. He ignored it, burrowing beneath her panties until he found her swollen, sensitive clit, grazing his fingertip lightly on the bundle of nerves. He felt another rumble of a growl in his throat as he watched her jaw pop open with a gasp at the contact. He drew a long stroke with his finger, gliding through her folds and gathering her slick.
"Fuck…" he moaned lowly, feeling his hair stand on end.
She gazed up at him, her jaw slack. His skin was slightly red, sweat glistening on his exposed torso. His muscles bunched with tension, and she could tell he was torturing himself as much as her. She flashed him a half-smile, tugging on one side of her mouth.
"Dean," she breathed out, "Alpha," she whined, gyrating her hips for more friction. The pleading was on the tip of her tongue, and she bit her lip to stifle it as her hands reached up for him, roaming across his skin hungrily.
He breathed out through clenched teeth before looking at her with a dark smirk. He took her roaming hands firmly, guiding them towards his jeans and placing them near the button. He leaned forward, pushing his chest into her before crashing against her lips with a hungry moan.
Her hands worked quickly to undo his jeans, reaching her hand into his boxers and teasingly grazing the tip of her fingers and nails across his hardened length before wrapping her hand around him and stroking in long, smooth, slow strokes.
"Fuck, Baby," he breathed, his head dropping slightly to watch her hands working him. He bit his bottom lip, breathing deeply before sinking his face into her neck. He rolled his hips in her hands, humming lowly, and his hot breath fanned across her skin.
She smirked, feeling his body shake as he held himself back. She ran her thumb over the head, collecting the precum, and slicked her hand back over him, "Now, who's gonna beg?" she whispered against his neck.
His hips stilled, and he breathed a long, low chuckle against her neck. "Sweetheart," he retorted, "You think you're in control right now? That's cute." He swiftly drew his hips back, releasing himself from her touch before he grasped her wrists with one massive hand and held them above her head.
"That's called a false sense of security," he tittered, enjoying himself far too much, "If you're going to make me lose control, there's only one moment where that's gonna happen." He arched over her, breathing in her scent as he looked directly into her eyes, "And that's when I'm inside that sweet pussy, fucking you to oblivion and knotting you so. Damn. Tight."
"Really?" she panted heavily, her bravado crumbling as she tried to wriggle against his grasp and keep from giving over to her Omega side completely. She tilted her head up, barely touching his lips with her own, "Seems like you're all talk, Alpha."
"Never stop doing that," Dean grinned. "Keep talking back; it'll just make it all the sweeter when you keep coming over and over and over."
He shuffled his knees, placing them both between her thighs and spreading her open for him, holding her wrists tight with one hand; his other snaked down to her entrance, stilling just in her folds while his hard cock rested on top of her mound.
"'Cause that's what's happening first before I take you, Omega."
She whimpered, her heat making it nearly impossible for her to think, his proximity and actions making her remarkably desperate. Feeling him so close but still being teased was maddening, and she just wanted him inside her, around her, taking her.
"Alpha, please," she whispered, almost inaudible, her head turned into the pillow.
"What was that?" Dean said teasingly, "Did you say please?"
Before she could react, two fingers plunged deep into her aching core. Dean grunted, and his cock twitched as he felt them become quickly drenched, and a heat jolted through him. He sank them in as deep as he could, twisting and scissoring before harshly pulling them out and pounding back in with a third.
"You're so hot…" he breathed, watching her expressions and gasps as she squirmed and her walls fluttered around his curved fingers. He firmly brushed them on that sweet spot, biting his tongue with a smirk. "I can't wait to see what you look like when my cock is inside you."
He released his hold on her hands, guiding one down to his hard dick and holding it around his shaft. "Feel how hard I am for you?" he asked, closing his eyes as he moved her hand along him. "Do you want me inside you, Omega?"
"Yes," she cried out desperately, sitting up and wrapping her arms and legs around him, pulling herself tightly to him. "Yes, please," she whispered against his lips, grinding her wet folds along his length. "Please, please, please…" she begged.
"Cum first," he demanded, his fingers now relentlessly pounding into her.
His thumb brushed up to her clit, rubbing quick, fast circles. He clutched the back of her hair, and his body pushed down, pressing his throbbing cock into her belly. His head dropped to her chest, drowning in her intensifying scent and hungrily capturing a nipple between his teeth. The tip of his tongue drew hot, wet circles around it before he sucked deeply with a hungry moan.
The combination of overwhelming sensations had her coming hard, screaming out his name as her whole body rolled against him, the climax providing little relief from the heat as her body begged for more.
"Oh God," she breathed out, her hips still wiggling.
Dean's eyes were dark and completely blown with lust. His jaw clenched with a growl as his hips drew back, the head of his cock nudging her entrance before he wasted no time in slamming through to the hilt. He felt his muscles tense as a loud grunt of pleasure burst from his lips. He stilled, letting her adjust to him, but his hips twitched with impatience. He whispered minor curses before glancing into Y/N's eyes like he was waiting for permission.
Her eyes softened as she met his gaze, and she swallowed hard, trying to control the swelling of her heart as she connected with him. She relaxed, a moment of clarity, as she lifted her hand and ghosted her fingers down his nose and across his cheek.
"My Alpha," she whispered sweetly, submitting to him completely, leaning up to capture his lips and undulating her hips against him to encourage him to move.
Her words flooded his senses and looped in his mind. A heat coursed through his body in reaction to her submission. He deepened the kiss quickly, so much so that he was devouring her mouth. In a brief moment for air, he growled, "Mine," promptly pulling his hips back and slamming hard back into her with a smack.
The strokes were long but fast, the slap of skin mingling in the air with Dean's grunts and Y/N's moans and cries. He cursed with another growl, shoving his arm under her lower back to raise her to meet him and fuck even deeper.
She felt herself climbing rapidly, Dean reaching depths she had never felt before, his girth stretching her wide in the most delicious ways. She briefly thought that he had ruined her for any man, ever. But somehow, she didn't care. She held onto him, pleas and encouragement falling from her lips.
As she came undone beneath him, Dean gazed upon her in awe, clenching his teeth against how tight and good she felt around him. He swiftly pulled out and flipped her to her stomach, lifted her hips, and leaned over her as he entered her again from behind. The angle allowed him to slide deeper, and his Alpha purred as he took her properly.
"Alpha, please," Y/N purred as she gripped the sheets. "Need your knot. Please, Dean…" she whined frantically.
He groaned loudly, nuzzling against her skin and panting as his pace grew impossibly quick. His fingers dug bruisingly into her hips as he held her tight to him. He leaned into her neck from behind as whines, grunts, moans, and curses washed over each other. He could feel she was already close to another orgasm, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold off.
"I'm gonna knot you, My Omega," he said lowly. "And when we're done, I'm gonna do it again, and again tomorrow. Do you want that, Y/N?" he hovered his lips over her neck and nipped at the skin.
She desperately wanted it, wanted all of him. But her brain swam through the fog of lust to remind her that, while she was on birth control, she was not on suppressants, and she feared it might not be enough against his potent Alpha seed. Especially since he was her mate. Luckily, she carried emergency contraceptive pills in case any survivors on her hunts needed them, which, unfortunately, happened too often.
She felt herself right on the edge, her moans and gasps at his words igniting her further. "Yes, Alpha, please," she pleaded, clinging to him.
He growled, pounding hard into her, grunts bursting from him with each slam. He felt himself swelling, gradually locking in pace as he started to struggle to move, so instead, he chose to push as deep as he could with a long moan. "Cum on my knot," he ordered, "Wanna feel you cum all over me."
She wailed, feeling his knot stretching her impossibly wider. She screamed out as she came hard, her body trembling with the force of it, as her body practically seized from the pleasure.
Dean's breath caught in his throat as he felt her walls flutter and clench around him erratically. He could feel the pressure building in his swollen knot before suddenly roaring and sucking harshly over her gland, careful not to bite, despite his teeth aching to sink in, as his hips jittered and long, hot ropes of warmth gushed deep inside Y/N. He moaned into her skin when a second flurry of ropes shot into her before he finally sighed out, slumping slightly on top of her and panting.
She went limp beneath him, sinking into the bed, his body covering hers like a blanket. She felt warm and secure and utterly satiated. It was a peace and contentment she'd only dreamed of before.
"I never knew meeting my Alpha would be like this," she said. "Never thought I'd meet my Alpha."
Dean rolled them onto their sides to wait as his knot eased. But he couldn't stop his hands wandering or his mouth teasing along her body. "Me neither…" Dean mumbled. "I just want to enjoy it tonight...deal with the details tomorrow. Just be with you."
She nodded, suddenly exhausted, and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.
-
Dean woke in the middle of the night, his bladder screaming for release. He was momentarily confused as he looked around the room, but the second his eyes landed on the Omega asleep beside him, he grinned sleepily. She had shifted to her stomach, her head turned away from him, one knee hiked, and he could see his seed coating her thighs.
He licked his bottom lip and bit down before shaking his head and slowly moving from the bed to the bathroom. He couldn't believe he'd found his True mate, the omega most perfectly meant for him. He hadn't told Sam, and he wasn't sure how he was going to break it to her that he was an unemployed hunter of monsters. But for the time being, he was happy, and he hoped to stay that way as long as possible.
Dean eagerly made his way back to the bed, hoping to hold her or even wake her for another round if she wasn't too tired. Eyes fixed on her silhouette in the bed, he didn't notice her duffel bag on the floor in the darkness shrouding the room. He cursed silently and hopped around on one foot as he stubbed his toe into the bag, which definitely should not have been as heavy and full of hard objects that weren't clothes.
He paused and stood completely still as Y/N shifted in her sleep, lay on her back, turned her head towards where he was supposed to be lying, and settled back into slumber. He let out a sigh of relief, then looked down at the floor to see one of her bags, a green canvas duffel. It was a lot like his own, or any you could pick up at an Army surplus store. He glanced at her again before he crouched down and quietly opened the bag.
There were clothes on top, which didn't surprise him, but also wouldn't explain what he'd hit with his foot. As he dug a little deeper, though, he found a large hunting knife, a small silver dagger, a pistol and sawed-off shotgun, and a box of extra ammo for each. He zipped up the bag and stood, thinking over its contents. It was exactly like any bag a hunter would pack, but it could just as easily be a well-armed civilian with a dark past.
"Dean?" Her sleepy voice drew his attention. She sat up and rubbed her eyes as she focused on him in the dark. "What are you doing?"
"I, uh, just stubbed my toe," he hastily explained.
She reached and turned on the bedside lamp, then looked over Dean again in confusion. She looked at his feet, as if she could see an injury, then her eyes flashed to her bag on the floor. The zipper wasn't fully closed, and a piece of cloth protruded from the small gap. Her eyes shot back to him and narrowed.
"Did you go through my bag?" she asked, getting to her feet, quickly tugging on her panties and a t-shirt that happened to be his, and did things to him that weren't very helpful at the moment.
"Why do you have all of that?" he asked, trying to be as gentle as he could. He was very aware that maybe the weapons and the fact that she was so against Alphas might have something to do with one another, and whatever might have gone down in her past.
Y/N was immediately on guard. It wasn't the first time one of her dates had seen her travel gear, and it never ended well when it did happen. Usually resulted in them calling her shady and leaving. Maybe it was for the best. She couldn't bring Dean down into her world, no matter how much she wanted to stay with him.
"Protection," she spat as she grabbed up her clothes and got dressed. But Dean still stood in his boxer briefs, eyeing her in silence as she moved about. "Why are you just standing there?" she huffed, feeling on edge and overly defensive. "Aren't you going to interrogate me or storm out in a huff?" she demanded.
Dean took a deep breath as he stared her down, as if conducting recon on a hunt. He wasn't sure how he was gonna tell his True Mate about his life of hunting, or how they'd even work out being together. But now, Dean suspected he might not have to worry.
"Are you a hunter?" he flat-out asked, and his eyes narrowed, and hers widened.
"What?" He couldn't be a hunter like her, could he? He had to mean something else, like an animal hunter or maybe even a bounty hunter. Maybe he was in trouble with the law. "W-what could I possibly hunt?" she chuckled awkwardly, his intense gaze almost seeing through her like a laser.
"Of nightmares that lurk in the dark," he said. "Are you a hunter?" He repeated as he stepped closer to her, his voice deep and rough with Alpha command. "Because I am."
"You're a hunter?" Was the first thing that came out of her mouth. Her heart raced as she realized that maybe she didn't need to hide from it anymore.
"Dean Winchester," he enunciated with a smirk.
Her eyes widened, having recognized the last name at least. "As in caused the apocalypse? I thought you had died?" she asked, confused.
The Winchester brothers were legendary among hunters. Well…infamous was probably a better word. Notorious, even. And Dean - who, last she heard around hunting circles, had died, for like the umpteenth time, which was fucking bizarre - was her Alpha.
Dean scratched the back of his neck as he awkwardly responded, "Yeah." He chuckled nervously and dropped his arms, "Among other things." She looked stunned, and he wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. He glanced at his shoulder and the scars she'd brought up earlier. "This was actually a werewolf. Tackled me through one of those big shop windows," he chuckled as his cheeks and ears pinkened.
Slowly, a grin spread on her face, and she chuckled at the utter ridiculousness, but also in relief. Her hand brushed over the bite scar in her side, and her smile faded as she looked at him. "This was a ghoul," she explained. "He knocked me on my ass and took a chunk out of me," she shook her head. "After he was dead, I spent the night in a motel trying to patch myself up between stints of passing out. Thought for sure I wasn't gonna make it," she breathed shakily.
"You were alone?" Dean asked and reached out to comfort her. It felt instinctual, but so did the way she voluntarily allowed it. He smirked to himself as he thought about her words and how she had told him the truth about her injuries in a roundabout way.
She shrugged, glad for his touch to ground her. "I always have been."
He sucked in a sharp breath, "You don't have to be alone ever again," he insisted, leaning down a little to meet her eyes. He hugged her tight and breathed in her scent, his heart racing with the thought he could have lost her before ever finding her.
It all seemed just a little easier, more possible, knowing she knew about hunting and the life. They still had a long road ahead of them, and Dean hoped to one day earn his claim on her neck. But for now, he had to wrap his head around finding his mate and telling his brother. It would change their dynamic, and he wasn't sure Sam would be willing to fold another into the fray. But that was a problem for the morning.
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I love this! Spoilers undrr the cut
One of my favorite parts was when she was trying to describe that a ghoul bit her but said a ghoul of a man to make it sound less monsterish.
Dean stubbing his toe on her bag of weapons was kinda funny too.
@kazsrm67 Aww! Thank you! That was one of my favorite parts too. Just made me giggle each time. Thank you so much for commenting. ❤️
I hope I’m not bugging you by asking but is not what you wanted on hold?
Thanks for the ask! Not What You Wanted is on an unintentional hold of sorts, I suppose. It's more that I've been lowkey working on it and am frustrated because it is not cooperating, and my mind is struggling to translate thoughts into words.
I've taken a step back and have been working on other projects, trying to let my brain rest and simmer. I hope to have more chapters ready soon, but don't want to make any promises that I might struggle to uphold.
In the meantime, I'm trying to post things I've been sitting on and hoarding for a while. Trying to get myself to stop focusing on perfection and just do the thing. Our minds can be our own worst enemies sometimes.
"We're underpaid, overworked, constantly exploited, and there's literally NOTHING we can do about it!" Union organizers are doing something about it
"There's no way out of this capitalist hellscape, we need a VIOLENT REVOLUTION" Well. Before plunging the country into war I have another suggestion we could try
"We need to all start acting like Luigi and start taking down these oligarchs!" Okay, it's easy to talk a big game about how you're gonna start shooting billionaires when you know you'll never be held to your words, but can you talk a big game about unions. To your coworkers.
"We need to MAKE OLIGARCHS AFRAID AGAIN!" Oligarchs are not afraid of Americans starting a mass revolution. 90% of the country is WAY too comfortable to do that. You know what they are afraid of though?
"We need to burn down the entire system! Sure, some people might die, but that's a small sacrifice for others to make so that I can get better working conditions!" What if instead of trying to talk the people around you into a violent revolution that will end in mass casualties, you tried talking the people around you into forming a union. What if we just gave that a shot before the mass violence option.
Everyone on Twitter is obsessing over this Artemis and Apollo NASA patch I have.
