Summary: A bunker party ignites long-hidden feelings as Dean and the reader navigate stolen glances, heated touches, and a kiss that changes everything.
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption, swearing.
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The music pounded in the hunter's ears as soon as their boots touched the concrete. The bass thumped through their bodies, a deep pulse that made the ground seem alive beneath them.
Dean and Sam exchanged a look, confusion flickering between them. The driveway of the bunker was a chaotic mess of parked cars and trucks-some familiar, some unexpected. What the hell was going on?
The last thing Dean had heard from you was that you were planning a quiet night alone. But this? This was anything but quiet. And you were anything but alone.
Dean took the lead, pushing open the heavy door. The instant it swung open, the music rushed out like a tidal wave, slamming into them. His sharp gaze scanned the room below, taking in the scene. The place was packed with familiar faces-almost all of them women.
Jody and Ellen were at the far end, locked in a fierce dart game. Meg leaned against a table, exchanging a sharp-witted banter with Rowena. And there you were, laughing with Jo as the two of you took shots, a radiant smile lighting up your face.
Dean's breath caught.
It wasn't just the way your laughter filled the room, effortlessly drawing people towards you. It wasn't just the way your eyes sparkled under the dim, golden glow of the bunker's overhead lights.
No, it was something far more dangerous.
It was what you were wearing.
Because it wasn't yours.
It was his.
His green Henley draped over your frame, the sleeves pushed up, the fabric hanging loose over your curves in the most delicious way. And beneath it? Boxer shorts that were definitely not yours.
Dean swallowed hard. His chest tightened, his pulse quickened and his jeans grew tighter as an undeniable heat surged through him.
God help him, but you were killing him. And the worst part? This wasn’t new.
Dean had been harboring a secret crush on you for longer than he cared to admit. It had started as something small—a passing thought about how your laugh made his chest feel lighter, how your presence made the bunker feel less like a tomb and more like a home.
But over time, it grew. It became a weight in his chest, a constant ache every time you walked into the room, every time your hand brushed his, every time you gave him one of those smiles that made him feel like he was the only person in the world.
And now, standing here, watching you in his shirt, looking so effortlessly gorgeous, he felt like he was on the verge of losing his goddamn mind.
From the middle of the room. you felt it.
That pull, that familiar presence. Your body reacted before your mind even registered it. Your eyes searched the space instinciveyl, heart skipping a beat like it always did, when your eyes landed on him.
Dean.
His gaze was locked onto you, a mixture of awe, adortion and something deeper-something raw and unspoken. A slow, shy smile tugged at his lips, one that made your breath catch.
You grinned and before you could overthink it, rushed towards the stairs, your body humming with excitment. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the courage bubbling to the surface, but suddenly, keeping your eyes off of him felt impossible.
"Your home! Come join the party!" You called out, your voice carrying over the music.
Sam chuckled, descending the stairs first, greeting everyone with easy familiarity. But Dean? He hesitated.
His eyes never left yours as he made his way down, slow and nervous.
The air between you crackled with unspoken words, with something you couldn't quite name but desperately wanted to.
You stepped forward, opening your arms for a hug.
Normally, Dean wasn’t one for hugs unless it was Sam or someone like Jody. But tonight felt different. Something in his eyes told you this was okay.
His breath hitched, but he stepped into your embrace, His hand rested at the small of your back, fingers pressing lightly, like he was anchoring himself. Even when you pulled away, he didn’t.
When he finally pulled back, he ducked his head, rubbing his neck. A faint blush spread across his cheeks.
He was flustered. But all he could think about was how good you felt in his arms. How natural it was. And how much he wanted more.
He told himself you were just tipsy, caught in the moment, that tomorrow you wouldn't remember the way you looked at him like he was something worth wanting.
Little did he know, you had spent countless nights tangled in the same heartache, the same longing. Pining after a man who you thought would never see you the way you saw him.
That was why you called your friends, why you threw this party.
And for a while, it worked.
Until he walked through the door, looking like sin on legs, and you were right back where you started.
But this time, it was different. There was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. And God, you hoped he felt it too.
You smirked, grabbed his arm, and tugged him toward the kitchen. "Let's drink!"
The night blurred into a haze of music, laughter, and stolen glances.
The music got louder, drinks flowed faster, and you and Dean drifted closer.
It started as playful teasing—an innocent invitation to dance. But the moment he touched you, something shifted.
At first, it was lighthearted. Then the space between you disappeared. His hands ghosted over your body, his breath mixed with yours, his gaze locked onto you.
The music faded into the background, and it was just you and him.
Jo announced some kind of game, but you barely heard her. You couldn’t focus—not when Dean looked at you like that.
Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist and led him away, out of the crowded room and into the dimly lit hallway.
Dean leaned against the wall, smiling at you, waiting.
You opened your mouth, searching for words, but what could you possibly say? How could you put this feeling into something as fragile as language? Your thoughts tangled, but one thing was clear—you wanted this.
So, you didn’t speak.
Instead, you stepped forward, placed a hand against his chest, felt his heartbeat stutter beneath your palm. You tilted your chin up, letting your lips brush against his with a quiet, hesitant urgency. A question. A plea.
Dean didn’t hesitate.
His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back with a hunger that left you breathless. It was deep, aching, like he had been waiting for this just as long as you had.
And then—
He pulled away.
Your heart plummeted.
You barely noticed the way he was breathing heavily, the way his eyes were blown wide with shock and something deeper. All you saw was the rejection.
"S-Sorry," you stammered, stepping back. "I shouldn’t have—I know you don't feel that way-"
"Wait, what?" His voice was rough, laced with disbelief. "What do you mean I don’t feel that way?"
You turned away, but he caught your wrist. "Sweetheart, talk to me, please."
You swallowed hard. "Dean, I’ve liked you for so long. Maybe even more than that. And tonight… I thought maybe—"
Dean let out a breathless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. His cheeks were tinged pink. "Sweetheart, I do feel the same way. Completely."
You blinked up at him. "Then why-?"
His expression softened. "Because you’ve been drinking, and I’d never want you to think I took advantage of that."
Your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you at his words. God, this man.
A slow smile stretched across your lips. "You… are amazing."
Before he could respond, you pulled him back in, fingers tangling in his hair, lips molding against his in a kiss that left no room for misinterpretation. This was real. This was everything.
Dean groaned softly against your mouth, his grip tightening as he deepened the kiss, pouring everything he felt into it. When you finally broke apart, breathless and grinning, he pressed his forehead against yours.
"If you promise I’m not taking advantage… maybe we can keep doing this," he murmured.
You giggled. "Dean, you’re not. But I wish you had sooner. We could have figured this out ages ago."
His smirk was wicked as he laced his fingers through yours, tugging you toward his room. "Guess we've got some lost time to make up for."
summary: the new monster of the week just so happens to show up at your diner. the winchesters think they’ve saved another damsel in distress, little do they know...
warnings: 18+ content, minors dni, adult language; violence to fluff to smut - rinse & repeat; oral (freceiving), ass play, heavy petting, gore, “torture,” weapons, weed mentioned, kidnapping, consensual as always, etc.
word count: ~6.9k
support your writer: if you enjoy, please give a reblog so others can enjoy too! 🤘🏼
• stories for hunters •
note: hello there! welcome to a new series! we are finally entering a new universe, supernatural. i've been missing my winchester boys! it’s time to bring them back for some fun! please let me know what you think! i'm hoping to make this a series! ps - sorry it’s so long for a first part! i hope you find it worth it!
—- x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x —-
“Hey! We’re behind. We got tickets on the board,” you say as you walk down toward the kitchen. “Heard,” you hear from your cooks. You turn the corner to get behind the line. Quickly grabbing the next ticket, you help your workers get the food out. “James, my burger’s almost up. Can you grab me some fries?” you say pointing towards him. He replies with a quick nod. “Aye, Annie, table 42′s about to start bitchin’. Let’s get those poppers out,” you share, tapping her on the back. “Echo,” Annie says with a smile. “Y/n! We got a Karen up by 9. Can you help out?” Brandy asks, coming from the front. “Annie, James. Y’all got it back here?” you ask, continuing to flip the burgers and getting them set with their sides. “Yeah, we got it,” James says. You nod and walk out towards the front.
Landing your eyes on table 9, you see that classic “Karen” hairstyle with her dopey husband across from her. With a sigh, you head towards her. “Hello there! Brandy shared you wanted to speak with me?” you ask, fully prepared for whatever bullshit comes your way. “Yeah, this salad has tomatoes on it. I was very specific when I said that I don’t want tomatoes,” she says with a stern, condescending tone. “Great! So I’ll go ahead and get the chopped salad without tomatoes,” you say with that clear fake customer service voice. You take the plate from in front of her. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” The woman scoffs, “Yeah, you can take this off our bill.”
Your eyebrows raise in response to her audacity. “So, you don’t want the salad anymore?” you ask. The woman shakes her head. “What are you stupid? Yes, I want my salad,” she screamed. You laugh as you place her plate back onto the table. “You can’t have both, honey,” you say with a stern whisper. You lean your hands onto the table. “Do you want to eat the salad that you’re going to pay for, or do you want nothing, ma’am?” The woman gasps, as though you stabbed her with a fork from her plate. She nods, hiking up a side of her top lip. “One salad with no tomatoes coming right up,” you smile.
As you walk by your other tables, you hear laughter and someone say, “Nice! I love dinner and a show.” You stop and turn to him. You are prepared to give him the highest level of sass for the day. That’s what they should expect coming in to your diner. As soon as your eyes reach him, your face deadpans. This man looked like a god damned angel. His jaw chiseled and enough to make a grown woman cry. His eyes so damn green the whole world could have stopped but you would have never known. His hair gelled up, but in a way that it still looks so natural and amazing to push your hand through. His shirt as green as his eyes. His eyes that are looking right back into yours. Your heart races and you try to calm yourself with some shaky breaths. “How’s your food?” you ask attempting to fill the space.
“I’m not complaining,” he says as he takes a huge bite of his burger. You smile, suddenly having worried thoughts if you had anything in your teeth or if your smile was too big. Turning towards his companion, you notice a much taller gentleman. Just as beautiful, but with darker and longer locks. His eyes just as green. His face more sweet and welcoming, as opposed to drop dead gorgeous like the first one. “How about you?” you ask. He smiles, “It’s great. Thank you.” He pushes around the vegetables within his salad. You smile in response, giving the male model a special wink as you walk away. A smirk resting on his face.
“Brandy, you did not tell me about the male gods at fucking 13!” you say as you land your elbows onto the expo counter. Your heart thumping in your chest. “Oh my god, I know,” she says, meeting you on the counter. “The guy with the short hair already has my number. I will definitely be seeing him later,” she says fanning herself with her receipt pad. “Oo, he’s the one I was looking at too,” you say with a giggle. “Get him, girl.” You look back through the expo window to take one last look at them. The tall one pulled out a laptop and they seemed to now be in a more serious conversation. No matter how serious the discussion must be, the other one is deadly focused on his burger. A man after your own heart.
-xox-
Finally it’s time to close up shop. You have been counting down the minutes. Two in the morning - absolutely disgusting. The crew is finishing up their closing duties, as you count the money from the registers. “Brandy, I have your tips,” you say, waving her money in the air. She walks by, grabbing the cash as she passes. “Thank you!” You turn towards Annie and James, “Y’all are good to go too! I’ll finish up.” Annie makes a confused face and asks, “Are you sure, y/n?” You laugh as you wipe off the front counter. “All good. Head out before I change my mind,” you chuckle. They all rapidly grab their things. The front door’s bell ringing nonstop as they all rush off into the night. You’re left completely alone in the diner. Exactly how and where you’d like to be.
A little more cleaning and you’ll be on your way. But first, some rock. You turn on your headphones and place them carefully into your ears. With a simple hit of the play button, your ear buds flood “Crazy Train.” Pretending to play the drums on each intense beat, you begin to walk over to the back to retrieve your broom. You grab onto it, using it like a fake electric guitar as you play your heart out to the song’s devilish riff. You feel the rush as you yell out the lyrics. You wouldn’t have to worry about anyone hearing you, seeing as your diner is at least 5 miles away from the closest civilization.
As you continue to sweep out any food left under the tables, you hear the front door bell ring. That unbelievable piercing ring that you unfortunately hear through even the most noise cancelling of headphones. “Hey, we’re closed,” you say as you raise from the table and pull a bud out of your ear. You look towards the front door and see it swinging but no one in sight. “Hello?” you say with higher volume, your eyebrows raised. The silence is deafening. Even the air felt unbelievably still and quiet. The hair on your arms begin to raise. You feel goose bumps travel up your back. Every part of your body screaming for you to run out and leave without even seeing anything tangible.
You take a deep breath. Your jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other. As you slowly back yourself towards a wall, a shadow began to take shape in front of you. A man. Your grasp on the broom tighter than before. “Get the fuck out of here,” you say sternly and powerfully. You approach this unfortunate situation as though he were a bear. Making yourself larger, able to put up more of a fight, and then hope he gets scared off. The shadow moves closer to you. Instinctually, you bring the broom across your body - ready to swing if needed. But god, you hope you wouldn’t need to do that. “I got 9-1-1 already on the way. They should be here any fucking minute!” You scream loudly, knowing full well that your phone is on the front counter. As the body continues to slowly move to you, the moonlight shines perfectly against its teeth. It’s incredibly long, sharp teeth.
With that sight, you drop the broom and run towards the back. You hear tables being pushed around and growling as you rush towards the back door. Adrenaline pumping throughout your body. You’re terrified, but your body pushes you to keep moving. The shadow jumps over the counter in an attempt to lessen the distance between you two. With one swing, you feel claws rip through your lower back. Pain shoots up your spine. Your legs unfortunately buckle at the sudden red hot sensation.
You land right onto your face. Your hands taking most of the beating, but your forehead having taken quite the smack onto the kitchen floor. Dizzily, you attempt to raise your head - looking for any potential weapon that could help you defend yourself. Very slowly, you feel the shadow’s body straddle yours. Biting deeply into your lip, you try to hold back your whimpers. This is it. You’re going to die. You’re not ready. And that’s when you hear it. “I-I didn’t want to do this. I can’t s-stop. I’m so sorry, y/n,” a familiar voice whispers. With a quick hit to the back of your head, you are unconscious.
-xox-
Pulsating beats flood through your head. The pain in the base of your skull leaving you nauseous. You feel a trail of dried blood resting on your eyebrows, nose, and lip. You attempt to look around, but your eyes are too shaky and blurry. You hear, “Oh thank god, you’re okay.” A sweet, small voice shoots through your hazy vision. “Where am I?” you mumble. Your throat and lips were dry. Your voice cracked to the point where it left you in pain. Whatever hit you took, it was bad. It is incredibly difficult to hold your own at this moment. You close your eyes as to not get nauseous.
As you slightly shift your weight, you feel a deep pain in your shoulder’s joints. You realize that your arms are hanging above your head. Wrists tied together. Your toes barely grazing the floor. The rope being the only thing holding you up right now. “We’re in deep shit, but we’re going to help each other get out, okay?” a voice appears. You turn and open your eyes in the direction of the voice. It’s a girl. You don’t know her, yet your life might depend on her now. Her arms tied above her head as well. “What do we do?” you say with a whisper. You can see her moving and twisting about.
Looking around, you find yourself in a room that looks like it was made by Lincoln-Logs. A fire burning and crackling in the cornered chimney. You focus your efforts into slowing your breathing - attempting to remain calm despite this terrifying situation. “Do you see that table next to you?” the girl says, nodding towards your left. You twist your body to see the small end table. A butter knife laying atop it with other surrounding knick knacks. It is rather far from you, but you could reach it at the risk of popping your shoulder out. Hey, it’s better than dying. You nod towards the girl.
With a pointed toe, you attempt to pull the table closer to you. Your foot finally hooking around its leg. As you lean more of your weight onto your right side, the rope digs deeply into your wrist. You feel it dragging and ripping against your skin. You let out a shaky breath, pain lingering down your arm. With a bit more force, you are able to flip the table on its side with a crashing noise. Your movements now more rushed than before. “Yes, yes! Okay, now grab it!” she screams towards you. You quickly move your eyes towards her. “Be quiet. We don’t know where they are,” you whisper softly. You turn back towards the task at hand. Using your toes, you grip onto the base of the knife. “Okay, now can you lift it up or something?” she says with a whisper. You nod and attempt to raise your leg towards her. Your weight resting on just your big toe.
As you lift your leg, attempting to get it high enough to reach the girl’s hands, your back sends deafening pains through your limbs. “Fuck!” you yell. You drop the knife harshly into the floor. Your weight quickly drops onto your joints, sending another rush of destruction throughout your body. Suddenly, you hear a door burst open behind you. The pain leaving you with an inability to move. The girl gasps and shudders in response to the shadow re-emerging.
“What are you doing?” the familiar voice shakes you to your core. You stay as still as possible, as though he won’t be able to see you. “Don’t make this worse than it has to be,” he says hesitantly. “Let me the fuck out of here, James!” the girl screams. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. Before you can stop yourself, you turn towards him. Your eyes landing on his face. You get the pleasure of having emotional pain on top of your physical. James is - was - so important to you. He’s always been there for you. He’s always had your back. He’s always supported you as you pushed your way through the glass wall at the diner. Yet here he is.
You desperately keep your eyes from his. You feel him scan your body from top to bottom. “Keep your mouth shut, June,” he says in a terrifying tone you don’t recognize. He walks towards the girl slowly, as though he was stalking her. As he walks past you, you catch a glimpse of sharp nails extending from his fingers. The sight leaves shivers up your spine. This is not normal. “Please, James. Please just let me go. Please,” she whispers. Before she’s able to say anything else, a growl erupts from him. He pulls his elbow back and thrusts it deep within her chest.
With an audible gasp, you find yourself absolutely petrified. Your entire body begins to shake, but you cannot pull your eyes from James and June. June’s mouth gapes open, a permanent expression of shock upon her face. James growls loudly in her face as he pulls his hand back from her torso. You surprisingly were able to look down at his hand - there rests her heart. It gradually slows its beat. You remain absolutely still. You oddly don’t feel pain in your body, despite the grueling torture you’ve experienced so far. James quickly rushes the heart into his mouth. He took a bite, breathing incredibly deep with satisfaction.
James slowly turns towards you as he takes another bite. His face completely covered in blood. His eyes a golden yellow now, despite normally having blue eyes. “Do you want some, y/n?” he says with a deep laugh. You cringe away from him as he lifts June’s heart to your face. Gritting your teeth together, you continue to place distance. Tears welling within your eyes. Your body shakes at his closeness. James quickly pulls away, his eyebrows furrowing together. As a tear falls down your cheek, he lifts his sharp claw to your face. He wipes away the drop. “I-I’m so sorry, y/n. You don’t deserve this,” he says. His entire demeanor shifting so quickly it leaves you unbalanced. You could swear that his eyes were slowly flooding with blue.
“I’m just so hungry,” James says softly. “And there was no one else. I don’t want to do this.” You remain quiet, continuing to shake uncontrollably. He slowly takes another bite of June’s heart, maintaining eye contact. Before you could process everything, a force bursts through the window. The glass thrashes throughout the room. James drops his meal and rushes towards the window. You hear loud grunts and growls. Following the sounds, your eyes land on James fighting the tall man from the diner. You must have truly hit your head, because there is no way that this is real life. You watch as the tall man attempts to raise his gun towards James. He attempts to claw at the man. The tall man continues to throw punches while seemingly attempting to avoid James’ mouth. You begin to feel lightheaded, wanting to simply give up.
As they continue to swing at each other, growing bloodier and bloodier by the second, you hear the door open behind you softly. Suddenly, you feel someone’s body against your back. A comforting voice says, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Without taking a beat, you fall back towards the voice. Your eyes close as you drop your guard. You could hear a snapping of the rope and sudden release of pressure on your wrists as you flail back onto their chest. With a soft grip, they quickly lift your arm around their shoulder. You try your best to keep your torso up, but it continues to prove difficult. Continually tripping over your feet, you make it through the threshold of the front door.
You are met with a cool rush of air. The sun rising in the distance. You watch as someone supports you towards a car - an older, yet loved car. Your vision completely blurry. The comforting voice speaks again, “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to lay you down and I will be right back. We’ll get out of here soon.” It opens the backdoor of the car. Ever so gently, the man supports you in lying down on your side in the backseat. Several bangs suddenly ring through the air. The tall man must have gotten his shot. As you lean back onto the seat, you recognize the comforting voice as the male god from the diner. He rushes saying, “I’ll be right back.” As he straightens up, he pulls his own gun from his waistline and closes the car’s door.
The next few moments were small and quick blurbs of coming in and out of consciousness. You remember the male god throwing the tall one into the passenger side. He seems to be in pain, open cuts against his check. Blood staining his face and hair. The male god jumped into the driver’s seat and quickly reversed, leaving a screeching sound in the air. “Sam, Sammy! Are you good?” he says with increasing intensity. “I’m good, Dean. I’m good,” the tall one replies with evident fatigue. “Y/n, are you okay?” he says, adjusting his rearview mirror to see you. “I’m okay,” you say in a soft mumble.
You feel the car moving very quickly. “Where are we going?” you say. The two men continue to converse outside of your earshot. “Where are we going?” you say loudly. They continue to speak, unable to hear you for some reason. The lack of response leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of distrust. Opening your eyes, you see what looks like a machete underneath the passenger seat. With another surge of anxiety, you grab the blade, push yourself up despite the pain. You lift the tip of the machete against the tall one’s throat. His nostrils flared in nervousness. His hands begin to raise. The driver continuing to thrash his head between you and the road. “Where. Are. We. Going?” you ask sternly. The tall one hesitantly replies, “We’re going somewhere safe. We saved you, y/n.” “Where?!” you yell, your eyes closing due to your deteriorating energy. “Flamingo Bay Motel,” the driver spits out. Before you are able to acknowledge the answer, you loosen your grip on the machete. It falls upon the tall one’s lap, as you fall and hit your head harshly against the leather of the back seat. Another bout of unconsciousness envelops you.
- xox -
In and out of consciousness, you find yourself carried from the backseat and into a room. You are unsure of who is moving you. As you are laid carefully on your stomach, you feel the comfort of a slightly softer surface - compared to the car’s seats. The side of your face gently placed onto a pillow. You find yourself back into a state of sleep. In another string of regained consciousness, you hear voices above you. “Dean, we gotta do something about her wounds. Her back is scratched to hell,” the first voice says. You feel the sensation of someone touching the bottom of your shirt. Slowly, they lift your shirt. You involuntarily wince at the pain as the clothing sticks do your back, drenched in dried and fresh blood. “It’s going to be okay, y/n,” a lower toned voice calls out. “Okay, we’re going to need more bandages and antibiotics. Go grab those and I'll start on the stitches.” The first voice agrees as you hear a rush of movements out the door. Another calming “you’re okay” leads you into another fog of unconsciousness.
You awake to a sudden cold touch on your back. Hands begin to push a piece of fabric onto your lower back. Your eyelids slowly open and land onto the male god’s face. Part of you is excited to see him. The other part terrified seeing as you don’t yet know his role in this trauma. Following his gaze, you realize he is staring at your ass. Your eyebrows furrow in a mixture of bewilderment, disappointment, and shock. The slight movement of your face draws his sight towards you. His eyes widen, deep green irises full of shock. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, blood flushing towards his cheeks. “What?” another voice replies behind you. “Oh, nothing,” the man says, sinking his chin towards his chest. As your eyes slowly close again, you notice the sky darkening beyond the window’s curtains.
With a groan, you lift your head from the pillow. You feel as though you were hit by an 18-wheeler. Moving your hands by your pillow, you raise your torso off of the bed. As your lower back arches, you feel an intense agony spread through your back. You yelp at the sensation and drop your body down. A quiet voice says, “Oh, oh, oh. Don’t try to move, y/n. Let me help you.” You feel a comforting hand press against your upper back, supporting you as you attempt to lift from your side. You slowly swing your legs around the edge of the bed.
Looking up, you recognize the tall man. A new bloodied bandage across his cheek. The remaining blood cleaned from his face. “I’m going to ask you some quick questions, okay? What’s your name?” he says calmly. With a mumble, you reply, “Y/n.” He laughs nervously, elated at your response. “Okay, and do you know where you are?” Your head feels like it’s about to explode. You have never felt this intensity from a migraine. Squinting as you raise your eyes towards his, you say, “Flamingo Bay Hotel.” A blunt chuckle generates from a corner of the room. “Close enough,” the low toned, male model replies.
Addressing him, you ask, “What happened?” The tall one pulls a chair up to the mattress. “We’re actually hoping you could tell us,” he replies softly. You close your eyes, raising your hand to your temple. Applying some pressure, you answer, “I was closing up the diner. I heard the front bell and then this shadow came at me.” The male model in the corner stands up, walking closer to you. His arms crossed against his chest. “A shadow?” he asks. You open your eyes to look at him. “Yes, a shadow. I could also see claws and these really terrifying teeth. He scratched my back,” you reply. “Before I knew it, I was hanging from my arms in this shitty ass cabin. H-he,” your words choke you as you attempt to continue. With a clearing of your throat, you share, “He killed that girl, June.” The tall one quickly turns toward his companion. “June Emery,” he says quickly.
“You knew her?” you ask. He turns back to you slowly. “No, she, uh, she went missing about a day or two before he got you,” he answers softly. With the brief mention of “him,” it all comes flooding back. Without realizing it, you mutter, “James.” The tall one leans closer towards you. “Yes, James Carlton,” he says with a bit of excitement. “Do you know where he lives?” You look up towards him, a confused face meeting his. “Why would you go to his house?” With a twist of his neck, he nervously speaks while gesturing with his hands. “Well, we need to find him-” Quickly, you rise from the mattress. Looking down towards him, you raise your voice, “You didn’t fucking kill him?!”
The tall one backed his chair from you slowly. The male god raising his hand towards you. “It’s okay,” you hear him say. Finally, the voice that you’ve been listening to - that’s comforted you. “We’re going to get him, y/n,” he says gently. You breathe harshly through your nostrils. You are not satisfied by that answer whatsoever. It was not good enough. James should be dead for what he did. Your fists begin to ball up. “I don’t even know who you guys are. I’m fucking leaving,” you say rushing towards the door. The two boys instinctually move towards the door, blocking you from escaping.
“I’m Sam,” the tall one says with a soft tone. “And this is my brother, Dean. We saved you from James two days ago. You’ve been in and out since then. We want to make sure that this doesn’t happen to anyone again.” The model, Dean, continues to sternly stare at you. Looking at Sam, you whisper, “I want to go home.” They continue to stand in your way. “I don’t care if you guys come. I just need my medicine and-and I’ll tell you whatever you need to know, okay?” Sam nods, looking quite concerned. “Dean’ll take you,” he says. Dean raises his hands, his mouth open. “What are you going to do?” he says. You watch, disgusted, while expecting some annoying brother-like banter. “I’m going to canvas the neighbors,” Sam says softly, leaning towards Dean. “You know, just in case,” he mutters discretely. Rolling your eyes, you push forcefully through the two men and walk towards the unforgettable car.
After an excruciatingly silent car ride, you finally reach your house. With a wince, you slowly raise from the passenger’s side. Dean rushes around his car’s front to support your arm. “I’ve got you,” he says softly. You both walk towards your house. After a night like you’ve had, you would imagine being home would give you a sense of comfort or safety. But it just leaves you with an empty feeling. You finally open the door after a few seconds of struggling with the keys. “So what’s this medicine you need so bad?” Dean asks, walking through the threshold. You chuckle as you walk towards your living room. In your first aid kit, you grab hold of the fragrant joint you got a hold of last week. "I’ve been saving this for something special,” you sigh. “Fuck it.” He laughs as he walks towards you. Placing the j between your lips, you ask, “You smoke?”
“No, I don’t smoke during a case,” Dean says, taking a look at your living room. You shrug and begin to light the joint. “A case?” you ask with a giggle. He turns towards you with confusion as you suck in a puff. “Ah,” you say releasing a long trail of smoke. “Yeah, this should take care of these aches. No problem.” Turning back towards him, you ask, “If you don’t smoke, what do you do?” Dean smiles, walking towards you. “I’m a beer man,” he says confidently. Your eyes widen in excitement. “Oh, I’ve got that too!” He follows you as you glide towards the kitchen. You grab a cold beer from your fridge, and proceed to sit on your small kitchen table. With a wave, you invite him to join you.
Dean sits down slowly. He twists off the cap of his beer and takes a quick swig. “James lives in an apartment back in town, on Pentrose Ave. I doubt he’d go back there after all this,” you say. He leans his elbows onto the table. “Is there any where else he’d end up?” he asks with a serious inflection to his voice. “Where was the cabin?” you ask as your press your finger back onto your temple. “It was about 3 miles behind your diner. Pretty hidden in those woods,” he says as he takes another sip of his beer. “Well, there’s an old mining tunnel a few miles into the woods. It’s supposedly haunted by ghosts and shit,” you say laughing to yourself, taking another puff.
With a sudden deadpanned face, you take the moment to realize that you might actually believe in those ‘ghosts and shit’ now. What happened two nights ago was not normal. He was not normal. “What was - What happened to James?” you ask hesitantly. Dean sharply stopped sipping on his beer. He slowly places the bottle onto the table. “He was turned into a werewolf,” he says quietly. His eyes fixated on your face - attempting to prepare himself for whatever reaction you gave. “A werewolf,” you repeat slowly. Somehow the unbelievable makes whole lot of sense to you. “He seems to target important women in his life. Three women, including you and June, have gone missing,” he says emotionless.
“And they eat hearts,” you whisper. Dean looks at you with surprise. His eyebrows furrow together. Concern plastered throughout his face. “Yes.” With a sucking of your lip, you keep your eyes down. “He ate June,” you mutter. He reaches his hand towards your chin. With a slight push from his jaw, he maintains eye contact with you. “He did and he will never do that again. You are safe,” he says matter of factly. His green eyes intensely looking at yours. You can see the pain in them, but you note the strength and power behind them. Luckily for you, heroes are just as beautiful as they make them out to be.
Pulling your eyes from him, you question, “So, you guys patched up my back? I don’t have to worry about any surprise hospital bills?” Dean laughs, following your lead in the conversation. “Yeah, you’ll have a pretty bad ass scar.” Taking another puff, you chuckle, “Great, just what I need.” He leans forward, touching your hand. “Hey, scars are sexy,” he whispers. You giggle in response. “You sure you weren’t just looking at my ass while you stitched me up?” you reply with a twist of your head and a raise of your brow. That familiar flush presents on his cheeks.
“Oh, so you remember that,” Dean states, taking a large sip and leaning back into the chair. His hand slowly leaving yours. “Yeah, a bit hard to forget given everything,” you say with a smirk. “I’m sorry,” he says with a hand to his face. You lean forward to hold his other hand before he could place it further away from you. “Don’t worry, I liked it,” you whisper. His eyebrows rise and a smirk appears on his face. He scoffs as he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand. With a smile, you squeeze your hand and raise from the table. You walk towards your ashtray on the counter and flick off the cherry of your joint.
With a smooth quick movement, you walk towards your bedroom’s French doors - swiftly opening them. You turn your head around towards Dean as he continues to sit at the table. “I’m going to bed,” you say softly. With a slow back and forth, you lower the waist band of your jeans. You bend over as you push them down towards your ankles. As you step out from them and continue forward, you mention, “You can join me if you’d like.” You smile as you hear a loud grinding of the chair against the floor. His steps rushing towards you.
Dean carefully places his hands on your waist as you walk into your bedroom. With a look over your shoulder, you ask, “Can you help me take this off?” He smiles, biting his lip. He slowly lifts your white top off of you. You wince at the intense ache as you raise your arms. “Are you okay?” he asks as he plants the gentlest kisses onto your neck. You spin around and place your hands on his low back - pulling him closer. As you maintain eye contact, you lean towards him and kiss him gently. His lips felt like clouds, soft and generous. His body refreshing against yours. You feel his hands gripping onto your hair. You slowly press your tongue against his lips. His softly meets yours in a loving embrace.
You both begin to walk towards the bed. Sustaining kisses throughout the action. Dean slowly lowers you onto the mattress. His touch leaving you with a jolt of excitement and pleasure. As he leans onto you, you unfortunately feel weight onto your bandages. You attempt to hold in the wince as much as you could. You had hoped that the weed would have softened your pain receptors. Unfortunately, he was able to notice. “Is your back hurting you, y/n?” he says in an angelic voice. You nod, leaning into another kiss. He pulls away, staring at your face. You watch as his eyes shift focus on different aspects of your body. He smiles and leans past your face towards your ear. “Turn over,” he says softly.
With his support, you slowly flip over. Dean instinctually grabs one of your smaller pillows and places it under your hips - leaving your ass up in the air. “Perfect,” he says as he lands kisses on the dimples of your low back. You grip tightly onto the pillow below your face. His hands start on the side of your thighs and up to your hips. Your body is filled with pins and needles. He hooks his fingers below your panty line and begins to pull them down. You shake at his touch. A wetness forming between your legs as he pulls ever so slowly.
“God, you’re amazing,” Dean says breathlessly. You grip even harder onto your pillow, knowing that you are fully on display for him. He begins with his finger traveling up and down your pussy, gathering slick. He releases short breaths. You softly begin to moan, so terribly excited for what would come next. With a swift but gentle movement, Dean spreads your legs apart. He leans himself closer into the gap. He slowly circles his finger onto your clit. Your legs tighten against his body. He lands tender kisses onto your ass as he squeezes his hands onto your thighs.
Dean’s kisses grow closer and closer to your pussy. It leaves your thighs desperately shaking. Your body aches for his touch. Aches for his mouth. Aches for him. As his lips finally reach, a tongue slowly emerges and laps up your slick. He feels absolutely incredible against you. Your heart begins to race. Your clit starts to pulsate to a steady beat. “Dean,” you moan aloud. He quickly shushes you as though you were distracting him. He traces his tongue deep against your skin. You release harsh breaths and begin to bite onto your pillow. Dean slowly pushes his tongue deep within you. His finger continuing to stimulate your clit. Your hips begin to wiggle at the extreme pleasure.
Every so often, Dean would come up for air. He continued to moan your name with each breath. You begin to tense around his tongue and finger. Your walls begin to tighten, furiously craving him. He slowly pulls out from you. He returns to kisses on your cheeks, leaving you with a flood of intensity in your groin. With a sudden movement, he bites down onto your skin - moving back and forth between cheeks sweetly. It leaves you with a white hot sensation, but a frantic need for more. He then traces his tongue onto your ass. It slowly comes closer and closer to your hole.
You tense up, never having done anything like this before. Dean’s hands gently guide you and relax your body. His tongue begins to circle your hole, leaving you with an almost overwhelming rush of pleasure. You moan louder into the pillow, learning something new about yourself. “Fuck Dean,” you blurt out. He continues to circle your hole. His hands gripping harder against your cheeks. As you struggle to maintain your breathing, he quickly pulls from your hole and slams his tongue deep within your pussy. He drags his tongue in and out of you with a quick and sudden pace. You feel your body collapsing onto him. A hard, hot beating felt up to your ears. Your walls pulsating around his tongue. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you scream desperately. You feel a giggle against your skin, as he grips harder onto you. That all too familiar pit in your stomach begins to appear. Without realizing it, you begin to move your hips back into him. As your moans increase, he begins to make more noise against you. Each of his grunts leaving you in a whole other level of pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m going to cum. Fuck Dean!” you scream as your cum releases into his mouth. You feel your toes curling. Your body tensing against him. You feel lightheaded through the extreme gratification.
As you continue to ride out your high, you grind your bottom against his face. A man has never ate you out as well as he has. Of course, you would never tell him that. As your movements slow, Dean raises from your legs and lands himself beside you. You grab onto his shirt and pull him closer to you. He wraps his arm underneath your pillow. His fingers tangling within your hair. Your head resting softly against his chest. “Shit,” you say, out of breath. He laughs as he plants a kiss against your forehead. You look down towards his jeans and see a rather large bulge. A smile forms across your face as you bite your lip. Dean follows your eye line and smirks. He uses his other hand to slowly unbutton his jeans.
You giggle looking up towards his chin. “Oh, were you expecting something?” you whisper sarcastically. Dean chuckles, “Well, I didn’t expect you to be a pillow princess, but that’s fine, y/n.” You scoff, raising yourself from his chest. “I am not a pillow princess! But ... I am definitely going to leave you wanting more.” He bites his lip and pulls you back down towards him. “God, you are so beautiful,” he says with a tight grip around your shoulders. You lean up and kiss his jaw and eventually land upon those supple lips. “I know,” you whisper. “I’m going to make us some pancakes,” you say enthusiastically as you pull away from his chest. “No way,” he says with a sudden serious tone.
With a giggle, you prance into the kitchen and begin to make your famous pancakes. “Go clean up, I’ll get started,” you say pointing towards your bathroom. Once he’s washed his face, Dean slowly returns to the kitchen. He leans onto the threshold, biting his lip, as he watches this beautiful naked woman cooking him up some pancakes. “They do say ‘food is the best way to a man’s heart’,” he shares with a smile. You turn towards him with a hum, “Hm, your heart, huh? You already feeling something here, baby?” You wave your whisk between the two of you. With a laugh, he says, “I already know I will be coming back for more.” With a smile, you return back to your cooking. “I hope you will,” you whisper to yourself.
After watching this man eat your pancakes in less than 2 minutes, Dean leans back onto his chair with a hand on his stomach. “Shit, that was good,” he smiles. You take another bite of your first pancake. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you say. “Oh, baby. I enjoyed every minute,” Dean says with a confident smirk. It is your turn to blush. With another bite, he reaches into his pocket. He grabs a flip phone. “What the hell?” you chuckle. “It’s a classic,” he replies with a wink. As his eyes land onto his phone’s screen, his facial expression shifts. A sudden switch from happiness to stern and serious. The change so drastic that it leaves you asking what was wrong. As he pulls his eyes away from his phone, he whispers, “Sam didn’t check in. He should have checked in by now.” He quickly pushes off from the table and begins to gather his things. “Something’s wrong,” he says gravely.
You quickly rush to grab your clothes as he finds his keys in the living room. “Just stay here, y/n. I’ll come back for you,” Dean says sternly without looking back. “I’m coming with,” you reply. He slowly turns towards you. “Look, I don’t have time to deal with this. You stay here. I will come back for you,” he says impassively. As he slightly opens your front door, you land your palm closing it loudly. “Let me be clear. I will be going after James whether you’re there or not. So I will be helping you get back Sam and kill that fucker in the process.” Dean watches your eyes intently. He recognizes your passion. He acknowledges your strength. He also knows that he might end up having to save two asses instead of just his brother’s. With a clenching of his jaw, he mutters, “Fine. Let’s move.” You follow him out the door.
—- x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x —-
note: i hope you liked it! let’s pretend it makes sense for someone who got their back ripped up to later get their ass eat up. what do you think? lmk your thoughts in the comments or reblogs!
Sam Winchester X Reader- Getting in a fight over him trying to leave you and him regretting it
Don’t know where this fits in the timeline of the show, but I hope you enjoy. Angst with fluff and a few laughs.
Word Count: 5,546
No One’s P.O.V.
While pure bliss was the last good feeling you had before the downward slope, Sam Winchesters face was the last thing you’d seen in both.
That night, you were awoken by the sound of shifting around. You knew it to be your beloved Sam. Although the thought to let slumber tempt you back was present, you fought against it in case Sam was having a bad night or a nightmare. Not to mention you were a bit curious as to what he was up to.
You kept your conscious state unknown to him; thus, you hoped he didn’t notice the small smile he caused by leaving you a small hug and a sweet chaste kiss on your forehead. After feeling him leave the bed and hearing him leave the room, you opened your eyes. Instantly, the quietness he left the room with concerned you, so you opened your eyes to look around the room and saw that his bag that was once on your desk was gone.
Your heart not wanting to make anything out of it, but you weren't naïve either. You heard him carefully close the door to the bathroom. Your room seemed clean and meant for one and only one person.
You move your pillow in your place and pull the cover over before you walk out of your room stealthily in order to make it to your living room, the only place to exist from.
You sat back on your couch biting at your knuckle hoping you were overreacting...Actually, you prayed you were.
After a few agonizing moments, your heart shatters as his footsteps get closer confirming your suspicions.
Despite the nerves, you are able to calmly ask, “Where are you off to?”
With your words, Sam responded with a flinch and raised gun pointed right at you. The only words uttered but not finished were, “Shi-”
You guessed your presence stopped him short of his words. When he realized it was you, he lowered his gun with a surprised look, but you could see the slight panic in his body language.
He spoke rushed as he began to ask, “Y/N you were-” You stayed calmly and next cut him off by speaking with a sternness you didn't usually need to use, “I was what, Sam? I was supposed to be sleeping?” You walk over to him and stare into his eyes. He looked back and forth from your eyes and to a random part of the room. He called your name, but he didn’t seem to know what to say. “I was supposed to fall asleep happy, loved, and with your face being the last thing I saw and wake up alone? Wake up alone and stay that way?...Without you?”
With all that you had, you tried not to break over the reality of it all. You walked over to the lights to turn them on.
Without any thought, your hand grasps his large bag, but his hand clenched on the handle. Your heart scrunches into itself at the reaction, which makes your whole body stay tense. Somehow you found it in yourself to stare him down until he reluctantly let the bag go.
Along with putting the bag on your coffee table, you sit right next to and try not to let your body give off how freaked out this was making you.
You let out a small shaky breath as you felt the panging of your heart and tears trying to push out your feelings.
After your shaky breath, it gives you the vigor to ask him, “Once again, I ask, where are you off to?”
His eyes meet the ground, and he clicks his tongue. He meets your eyes with a sad expression before answering, “I think you already know…” You swallowed hard.
Your voice cracking slightly as you asked, “Fine. Better question...” You’re lip quivering with the, “Why?”
“It’s time.”
“Elabor-”
“Don’t make this harder, it-”
You didn't know what to feel first. Do you feel the sadness of him not wanting to stay with you? Do you feel the anger over the fact that he was going to leave you alone without any explanation? Do you feel frustrated over him not giving you much to go off as you question him? Then, there was the anxiety and aching for not him now wanting being happy where he was...aching because you wanted him to stay…
In the moment, it was a mix of it all, and you found yourself telling him, “You don’t want me to make things harder? Interesting. That would be so convenient for YOU. But, screw me right? I mean you were just gonna go and leave me to myself….How hard do you think that would be on me? But, I shouldn’t make this hard...Not like you were gonna do to me.”
He bit at his lip, walked over a little closer to you before firmly and sincerely stating, “I don’t mean to hurt you.” While you thought it was sweet, it hurt to hear the words considering the situation. Holding onto the sweetness, you stand up and look him in the eyes with your hands reaching out to him and pleading eyes you say, “Then, don’t leave...because that’s going to hurt more than-” You tone was going in and out from firm to whispers. Finishing your statement weakly with, “ That’s going to hurt over anything else…” With shaky hands, you grasp at his jacket and attempt to pull him toward you. Even if the love lied in his glassy eyes, he seemed to brush past you, not giving you even a millimeter of contact to grab his bag, which made your stomach clench with a bad feeling. While you reached for his bag, you called his name, but you didn’t stand a chance.
“Y/N-” He goes over to the door and opens it. He looks like he wants to say more, but you see him pulling back. While you felt like you couldn't breathe your throat tight, stomach bruising, you yelled out, “Sam!”
Momentarily, he stopped in his tracks. Although you wanted to walk forward, you didn’t want to risk scaring him off. Not to mention, you were pretty sure your body was trembling by then. He doesn't look at you as you tell him with a crack to every word, “You can’t just leave. You can't just do this.” In a hushed and forced voice, you hear him say, “I’m sorry…”
“Why were you with me to begin with if you were gonna leave in the end?” He turns his head toward you and honestly answers, “I didn’t think I’d like you this much.”
“It doesn't have to change anything! We-”
“It changes everything. Goodbye.” Tears falling without you noticing, you lunge forward landing on your knees and say, “Please….please, don’t go.” He looks away from you. He coughs out as he tries to regain his composure. He turns to you with a forced smile. Then, in a strained voice, he tells you, “I’m sorry and wish you the best.” With the last bit you have, you hoarsely yell, “Fine! Go!” You rose from your position and stride forward. He turned around to look at you, and he was shocked to see you walk forward pain written in every gesture and wrinkle on your face. You walked forward with all your emotions in your eyes. You held the door tightly and said, “ Don’t let the door hit you.” You slammed the door on him. The click of your door taunting you into a full blown sob. Without any more straight and a shuddering breath, you slid down the door. It was over, and you loved him oh so much…Even now, despite it all, what wanted most in that moment was to hold him.
Despite it being weeks later, your body still reacts to the dream of the reenactment of that night, and you're left to a tense state with a heavy heart. Considering the heavy heart, it makes it more difficult to wake up, so your routine was to reach for his side, followed by cursing yourself for the emptiness every single time. It wasn't the first time you’ve relive that night, but you wish every time it's the last. The memory eating away at you in addition to the many recalls you have to the memories you shared and dreaming of the things you planned to do together. It seemed the more you tried to forget the more the world pushed you to do the exact opposite
Later that week, you were at work when you yet again remembered one of the sweetest memories with Sam. You and Sam were laying in bed, reading. You weren't too sure what either of you read, but you remember staring at him as he read. As Sam was immersed in his book, you watched him move his hair out of his eyes a lot even if the hair didn’t necessarily seem to be in his way. You noticed the way he laid his chin on his knuckle, and the way he used his thumb to graze his lips here and there in thought. His other arm helps the book close to him, and he’d kept snuggling it closer and closer. It was if he worried the book would run off. Having looked at him for quite a while, he turned to you with a smile and asked, “Are you just going to ogle me?” Your cheeks flush, so you cover your face and answer, “No!” He chuckles at you lightly.
“Then, what?”
“Just-Never mind.” When the dream ended, you felt a warmth spread through your body before realization hit, and you could only feel stress from the short memory
On the same night, you dreamt of Sam and you riding in a carousel. You were laughing at how big he was compared to the horse pole. He almost didn’t fit. He looked almost bigger than the horse. You called him, “Cowboy.”, and he chuckled at the statement. The sun was shining and illuminating him. His eyes glistening in its colors. His beautiful smile shining brighter than the sun to you. He held out his hand to you, and you helped hands as you rode. He made a motions like he had a lasso with his other hand, and you laughed when he wobbled a bit about to fall. He slouched forward in laughter, laughing close to your face in delight. When the dream ended, your eyes opened to feel a sense of light in yourself. You wanted that for him. He had mentioned that he’d never had the chance to do things when he was younger. You and him settled on a carousel because it wasn't over the top. However, you two never got the chance to do it as he left. Realization hit, and you could only feel stressed from the fantasy. A fantasy that could never come true. This was how you’d been spending your days, despite how much you didn’t want to miss him.
Sam’s P.OV.
The night I left Y/N was a rough one to say the least. I remember that as soon as I reached the outside, I darted for my car. After closing the door, it became too much to think about the look on her face. They were in so much pain...me, the cause. Quickly, I was opening the car door right up again and throwing up. I was disgusted. With an empty stomach, I put the car in gear and drove off with eyes full of tears. I’d wipe them away, but there wasn’t much use. I couldn't convince my body, mind, or heart that any of this was okay. I drove as far as my consciousness would take me, which was a good few hours. I stopped crying on the outside by that point, but it still hurt. I stopped at a motel, and I headed straight for the shower. Even if I could feel clean on the inside, I hope I could feel some kind of effect from being clean outside. When I finished, it did little to no effect. Not bothering to put clothes on just yet, I walked over to the counter in the room to see two bottles of wine. Without another thought, I started to drink out of one of the bottles, and I reviewed my bag to pick out clothes. Choosing whatever to wear, it ended up coming with a consequence: I found a small picture of Y/N in the pocket of the pants. I sighed drunkenly, wiping my face after taking another swig. I sat down on the bed and leaned on the headboard of the bed and laid down. How stupid of me to leave the picture there. Sadly and drunkenly, I fell asleep crying to the picture.
The next morning, I felt awful. I was a little glad for it though, it was almost as bad as I still felt, so I was momentarily not thinking of Y/N. I was quickly to leave the motel almost leaving the picture on purpose, in the trash, but I didn’t have the heart and went back to get it. Idiot. I placed it in my bag hoping I wouldn’t have the urge to look at it again. I don’t know what possessed me to want to clean the car, but I did. However, I wasn’t taking the time to clean and was rushing around as I was hungover that as I was cleaning the car, I came across a bottle of cologne/perfume. It was Y/N’s. With about half a bottle left, it was a little spilled, and it slipped out of my grip getting everywhere. I groaned out in frustration, which earned me a look of judgment and fright from the people around. I played it off with a smile, but they all moved away from me. I drove off once again. Not really sure where yet. I heard about a few cases, but I didn’t know where to start.
I opened the windows hoping it would help with the smell, but it honestly made it worse. While I hated smelling it, I won’t lie I enjoyed it. I just hated that it was impacting me this much. That smell stayed in the car for a week and a half as I tried to get a case going, but the cases were mostly duds with one salt and burn. I couldn't believe I was wanting to have some crazy monster that needed to be killed. I wanted a challenge. As I need it the most, of course, I couldn’t get that. Fuck you, universe. At least, with the smell gone, I was finally back on some better cases. Drowning myself in the work because what else could I do?
After wrapping up a case, I was driving to the next possible case when my phone rang. It was a random number, but you never know, could be important. I answered, but regretted it rather quickly as it was Dean's voice ringing out, “What the hell have you been up to?!” I pulled the phone back a bit and sighed. Like nothing happened, I answered cheerfully enough with, “Hey Dean, haven’t talked to you in awhile. What have you been up to?”
“Cut the crap, Sam. You’ve been ignoring my calls. I know your working jobs a little too quickly for my liking-”
“How can you possibly make this about-”
“I’m just worried, Sammy.”
“I’m just working cases the same as you.”
“What happened to staying around that one area for a little longer? Something happened?”
“I-It’s no different from any other place...I’m back at the same old routine.”
“Then, what with ignoring my calls? It took me to all but get a whole new burner, for you to answer.” I didn’t mean the next words to come out so bitter, of course the words, “Just need some time to myself. That’s not too much to ask is it? I have the right.”
“No, time to yourself is perfectly fine...It’s fine as long as you're not running from anything. You're not trying to deal alone, are you?”
“That’s rich coming from you. You’re not exactly Mr. Healthy Habits.”
“Maybe not, but that’s me. You don’t roll that way, and I think you should stick to not being that way.”
“I can deal however I want.”
“So, there is something wrong.” I could hear the smirk on his face.
“So what?!”
“Talk to big brother.”
“Dean-”
“Come on, limited time only, no judgements…” I let out a dry chuckle at that and told him.
“I know that’s not true.” I shook my head, but I kept talking, “I liked being in the area before...so much...I left it for that reason.”
“Oh, and area. Can you describe the area at all? Why is it so great?”
“It was beautiful...truly handsome. It was a war-Point is, I miss it.”
“Does this area have a name?” I know he knew it was someone, so I couldn’t bring myself to answer. “You’ve been separated for what a month, and your suffering? Don’t answer that, I know you are. Maybe that should tell you something.” He was indefinitely right. Y/N won’t leave my head and certainly hasn’t left...my heart. They’re in there. They have been for a while now. With the realization, I was quickly swerving the car around and going back in the other direction. Dean must have heard as he asked, “Sam, you okay?” With a small real smile, I responded, “I’m good. I know what I have to do. I’m going back to the place.”
“I’d love to meet this place if they make you act like this.”
“One thing at a time. Talk to you soon.” I hung up and began driving right back. The perfume/cologne I once smelled in the car was a scent I missed, but I could never miss it more than the real thing. I had to go back to them. How could I have left? So stupid. I already love them. It’s too late...Will they take me back? Every time I was brought back to hunting, it was never hard. Even if I may not have wanted it most of the time, it wasn’t hard to get back in. However, being pulled in and out of the hunting life, it couldn't compare to the hold Y/N had. I missed Y/N. I wanted to be selfish. I went to see her.
It took me a while, but I made sure to at least get some sleep. Well, It was more that I kept falling asleep, which didn’t give me the best judgement to say the least. It was late at night, and I was hoping they lived in the same apartment. In fact, I was breaking in going through the window after climbing the fire escape. Wasn’t too hard. If Y/N took me back, I would make sure to fix that. As I made it inside, everything was mostly the same, which I was happy for. My review of the room stopped short when I stared at the dead flowers in a vase on this small table in the living room. More specifically, they were dead, blue hyacinth flowers. Y/n usually changed them every once in a while for me. I couldn’t help think of the first time she gave them to me.
It was a relatively bright day. I was just on the computer looking for possible activity. I couldn’t help myself, and I was waiting for Y/N to come home. After a bit of time, Y/n came back. I looked over to them and smiled widely at their presence. They respond with an even bigger smile, which made my heart race. They inched forward with their hands behind their back in a weird position, which made me quirk my head at them before chucking and asking them, “Why do you look so smiley?” In response, they said, “I’m a smiley person, Sam. Can't I be that without being questioned?” They were definitely hiding something. Behind their back more specifically. I playfully scoffed and stood up before smirking and answering with a shake of my head, “No.” I knitted my eyebrows close together and asked, “Whatcha got there?” The huffed out playfully and responded, “Darn, your height. Close your eyes. I have something for you.”
“What is it?”
“Am I not about to give it to you?”
“I’m gonna end up seeing it anyway.” I grinned knowing it was getting under their skin just a tad bit. They commanded, “Just close'em.” I obliged with a small word of, “Fine.” I heard them step forward. I was suddenly feeling very nervous and interested in what I’d see. As soon as they said, ”Open them”, I did as asked, and they were standing there holding these blue flowers with one hand up and the other up. With a waving motion of the hand that was up, they said, “Ta-da!” I was not expecting that as I pursed my lips slightly, but I took the bouquet from their hands. I almost thought this was a joke or there was more to it, so I asked them, “These for me?”
“No, I bought them for you to give to me.” With that, I knew they were mine. I couldn't help teasing them though as I held them out to them with fake seriousness. Y/N sent playful daggers my way, and I busted out laughing. “They are yours! Sheesh. Someone so smart.”
“I knew. I did. You're giving me these...because...because…” I was racking my brain for the root of the gesture but I couldn't figure out the occasion. I couldn’t understand why they were giving them to me, and why I was making such a big deal out of it. Y/n noticed my thoughtful nature and asked me, “Is it too much? You don’t like them? They don’t have to be a big deal. Just felt like it...Just saw them and felt why not give you flowers…” Y/N looked down feeling a bit embarrassed with the gesture now. I didn’t want to make them feel bad, I just was surprised. It was so touching that it made my whole body heat up and my brain short circuit. I tried to recall if I’d ever felt anything more innocent in my lifetime, or if I’d had the experience of being given flowers like this. I couldn't grasp any of those memories, so I’d consider this a first. A beautiful first. The words, “I love them,” leaving my lips softly. Y/N nodded nervously. I stride forward and lifted them, so I could sit them on the countertop. They yelped in surprise, which made me love the moment all that much more. I slide my hands around their waist to meet on their back. I pulled them in close and kissed them softly. While occupied on their lips, I carefully laid the flowers aside on the counter. I really wanted to pay attention to them for being so sweet. My hands go on either side of their face. I remember pulling away and seeing the big smile on their face. With their thumb fluttering across my cheek, they stated, “I should’ve bought you flowers sooner.” We both let out a small laugh. I couldn’t help get a bit sentimental and admitted, “I’ve never gotten flowers before-I don’t think. I really really love them though...seriously.” They nodded their head at me acknowledging my experience, and they accepted that wholeheartedly. We stayed that way staring at each other comfortably and warming silence.
After reminiscing that day and looking to the flowers once more, it gave me a little hope and dread all at once. That day, Not gonna lie, the flowers could be a bit of hope because they may still want to be with me. On the other hand, she could be too sad to move them, or let them die on purpose. I somehow ended up right in front of the vase, which also led to me knocking over a box after hearing the door open. I grimaced at the action and looked toward the door. They let out a small gasp and stood there with a phone in their hand with 911 reading across the top and a metal water bottle raised. The surprised look faded quickly surprisingly, and they nonchalantly talked to the 911 operator to say, “Sorry. False alarm. It’s someone I know.” Y/N hung up and looked very exhausted. They did look exhausted like they haven’t been getting enough sleep either. Very plainly, they said, “Gosh again?” I assumed they didn’t want to see me, so I tried to convince them by saying, “I know you probably haven’t missed me after everything that happened…”
“Trust me, clearly I missed you the 1st 20 times I saw you, and I missed you now but- I wish I’d stop seeing your beautiful face.” I squinted at them in confusion. Only to see them wiping their faces in frustration. 20 times? Could there have been a shapeshifter in contact with them. I stepped forward and asked, “What are you talking about?” I waved my hands at them a little bit because I was very concerned with that statement. They let out a laugh like they were crazy and stated, “Woah, look at that. My brain is really messed up because it's trying to convince me that I’m sane...I mean this is a little much. It’s one thing to have the dreams and flashbacks, but now I’m going as far as hallucinations.”
“I am thoroughly confused. Y/N, I’m not some hallucination. Although, if you were having some, I’d be very concerned how you got to that point.” They put their things down and took a drink of the water bottle before replying, “Hallucinations are just the icing on the cake to my fucked up break up process. I mean it wasn’t enough that I saw you in my dreams. Dreaming of the things we didn’t do. The nightmares of the fight we had. I mean it wasn’t enough to have that and not to mention the constant call back to the memories we shared. Now, I’m losing it. I’m hallucinating you, right now, and talking to open space. I must have gone crazy, and my brain is trying to protect me and trick me into thinking it's real…” It hurt me to hear that they’d been struggling so much. It made my body ache. “I miss you so much, but I really don’t want to keep seeing you.”
“Y/N, I-” They stood up and walked past me and said, “Excuse me, I think I should ignore you before I really go mad.” With thinking, I grabbed their arm and asked, “If this weren’t real, could I touch you?” They got a little scared and pulled away, but I had to make this right somehow. Give them some kind of piece of mind. I did this. My intentions were a bit more selfish, but I hoped I could still honor that to some level because I just wanted them to feel better right about now. They looked toward me and said, “How would I know? I’ve never had hallucinations before.” I gave a small smile and nodded before responding, “That’s good to hear.”
“Why are you here? You were the one that left...” They turned their back toward me. I sighed, and they looked back over to me. I told them, “I know and that was a stupid thing to do. I was stupid…” They let out a small chuckle and expressed, “Now I know that it’s a dream. That’s exactly what I'd want to hear from you if you were here.” I wanted to laugh at that, but I kept true. I told them, “I’m serious...I’m sorry...I never meant for this to hurt you like this. You were right about leaving. You probably would have been worse off if I left without you knowing. I care about you so much...I'm sorry for causing this…” I didn’t realize I was tearing up until I felt them wipe a tear away. I could see the realization in their eyes, which made them move back and ask, “Okay if you’re real I don’t think you’d come here...Are you possessed? Are you?!” They raised the vase from before in their hand threatening me. On the one hand, good on them, but I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. They were freaking out as they uttered, “Oh god! What is that thing you-ugh Sam told me to do with demons?!” I held my hand up defensively and tried to protest with, “I'm not-” However, I was cut off real quick when they pulled out the flowers from the face and threw it right in my face.
No One’s P.O.V.
Sam shut his eyes at the action of you dumping water on his face. There wasn’t any burning, so you asked, “Did it work?” He whipped his face and replied, “Was that holy water?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not a demon, but I am very wet now.” He moved his hair out of face with his hand.
“Sam?”
“Yeah. It’s me. It’s me.” You couldn’t believe it as you walked over to him. You wanted to reach out, but the hurt rushed through you. You stepped back and stated, ”Gosh, now I wish you weren't. Never thought I’d wish I was hallucinating so much…”
“Y/N-”
“No, I can't do this. Go.” You opened up the door for him. With all the pain that’s been had, you didn’t know if you could handle more pain. You didn’t even know exactly why he was here. Guilt? Worry? Sam’s always been a considerate guy. Maybe he wanted to make amends. Whatever the reason, you weren't ready for it, or more you were way too ready for it. You just didn’t want to be. His tempting words, “I know I messed up. Please don’t make me leave. I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear it-”, made you open up and respond, “That's the thing, Sam…” You sighed heavily and added, “I do want to hear it…” He walked a little forward. You couldn't bring yourself to move away from him. YOu missed the way he smelled, and the warmth that always radiated off of him. It was making you weak as you admitted, “All I’ve been wanting is to see you, hear your voice,...feel you again. I want to love you even still after everything...and I can't have that… I mean what does it say about me to forgive you so easily?”
“It’s not easy...I know that. You don’t have to forgive me exactly...I just don’t want to be away from you anymore...You deserve an explanation.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“I have it.”
“I-Fine.”
“Thank you...I left because it was getting to be too real and it was dangerous to want you so much. ”
“Then, why would you come back? Are you gonna stay?...How do I know you won't leave again.”
“I won’t. it’s too late for that.”
“Too late? What are you talking about?”
“I left thinking that I could get away from us when, but I couldn’t...I still love you…” Your ears and senses perked up at the declaration.
“Still? Still love me? We haven’t even said that the first-”
“I love you, and I loved you that night I left. I didn’t realize it until I left and was away from you. I was running from the feeling of love, but it didn’t make a difference.”
I loved you that night I left. Even though I left because I love you that's the exact same reason why leaving did nothing.”
“Sam…” He takes one more step forward, and he puts his hands intertwined with yours.
“It was wrong of me to leave. It was getting to close with you. I thought leaving would fix that. Keep you safe. Keep my heart from holding you in my heart. Which failed….It just once you’re in...I’m scared to death something will happen…You’re hold is too strong though you’ve made me destined to love you...”
He laid his forehead to yours. You close your eyes and embrace the feeling of having him close. The feelings that bursted all over, and the heat from having his skin on yours. With tears falling from yours eyes, you look over to him just as emotional.
“You really hurt me…”
“I know...I’m sorry.”
“But, god are you so sweet. How can I say no to you after everything you said?”
He leaned his face closer to yours and whispered desperately, “Can I stay?” His eyes unwavering in the emotion of desire. You nodded to him, and he enveloped you in a hug. You laid a kiss to his lips. All of the suffering from before reversing into happiness and joy with 10 times the power.
Request by anon: Can you write a fluffy Cas x Reader where she is his best friend and they are both in love with each other. He is the careful and overthinking angel she is the girl who just wants to live in the moment. One night they go skinny dipping.
Summary: You’ve lived with humans for centuries, and you can’t ever think about going back to Heaven. When Castiel shows up, you have to show him how good it feels to be human.
Squares Filled: childhood friends @castielspnbingo // fools rush where angels fear to tread @as-the-saying-goes-bingo // castiel for my frist card of heavenandhellbingo // kissed to be quiet @spnfluffbingo // new years resolution @spngenrebingo // “whatever you lack in talent, you make up for in confidence.” @spnquotebingo // non-canonical relationship for @trope-bingo
Author’s Note: This is unbeta’d and all mistakes are mine. If you have any requests, please send them in!
Heaven has always been a “one-track mind” and a “black and white” kind of way. There is a set of rules every angel is supposed to follow, and if you don’t, then you’re cast out. Most habitable planets have and follow the same kind of rules, and they become so boring to live by. It’s fine for the first couple millennium, but then it gets kind of boring and predictable.
God entrusted his angels to serve Heaven and to follow those strict rules. Heaven always comes first, and it didn’t matter if you had other priorities in your life. You went where the archangels sent you, you did what they asked of you, and you did it without complain.
There has to be something more out there, something that challenged its people and didn’t tell them what to do and where to go. There had to be someplace in the entire universe that held creative imagination to a high standard. For a while, you never found it. You searched high and low for it, but you always came up empty. It made you question whether or not such a thing existed until you found Earth.
Such a small planet in some tiny solar system lying in a galaxy that is barely out of its diapers. Such a tiny and insignificant planet, and they defy all the rules. Upon first discovering them, your heart soared at the thought of being able to creatively express yourself--to be who you are instead of being who someone else tells you to be. Heaven is exactly that--you don’t get to be who you are. They program you into being perfect soldiers, but that’s not who you want to be.
You want to be able to talk with your peers without the fear of being judged by them, you want to be able to do something without your four older brothers reigning hell down on you for disobeying your father, and you want to be able to find love and joy and humor and sadness and grief--something you can’t ever find in Heaven. Everyone’s Heavens are perfect little sanctuaries that protect them from the horrors of their own lives. You won’t find what you’re looking for in there--and you’ve gotten in trouble for popping into people’s Heavens before.
Humans have a silly way of doing things, but what makes them so unique is that they are imperfect. Everyone in Heaven is perfect--no scars to tell people where they’ve been and what they’ve been doing. Humans are flawed to the T, but that’s what makes them so special to be around. They cherish life because it ends. They find value in happiness because of sadness and fear. They crave thrills and adventure because their bodies are built to withstand so much, yet, they don’t know that. Human souls are so valuable and pure, it’s amazing what each person does with them.
Humans have come a long way since they were first created, but they still have such a long way to go. They won’t ever be perfect, but that’s why you love them so much. It’s also the main reason why you left Heaven to hide on Earth to be with the humans. You pretended for centuries to be like one of them--talk, act, love--just so you can feel like you belong to something.
There are bad ones that filter through every once in a while, but you’d rather be here than on Heaven a million times over. There is just something so powerful and heartwarming about being surrounded by imperfect beings. It really makes you question what God has been doing, and what kind of plan he has for the angels. Even now you can see angels are heavily flawed because the system is flawed.
There is a flawed system down on Earth regarding the demons and monsters that Eve unleashed onto the world. They are the diseased little insects that have been infecting the world from the very start, but you try and do your part to make it a better place without outing yourself to the rest of your friends and family. The only one you want to know you’re down here is Castiel.
He’s the only person you absolutely love out of your entire friends and family from up there.
He’s a good soldier, and you fought beside him in many battles, but he’s also the only one who gets and understands you. He’s seen the flaws up in Heaven, but you’re the only one who had the balls to leave and do something about it. He stayed, and you wish to your father he would come down here and find you.
You’ve prayed to him before in hopes he would change his mind and come down here, but you hadn’t heard anything from him in a while. He’s your best friend who you love with all your heart, and he’s not down here experiencing this with you. You’ve been everywhere on this Earth three times, and it would all be better if he were by your side. You’ve hunted with hunters from all over the world in fighting their monsters, and the ones you actually like are the Winchesters.
They know you exist and how you’re trying to hide from Heaven, so they kept your secret all these years. Then Dean died, and that’s when Castiel finally made his appearance. He’s the one who saved Dean from hell and learned you were here from Sam. Sam knew how much you missed him, so he spilled the beans just a little bit.
While the Winchesters traveled around the United States, you stayed in one place: New York City. While most people would say it’s a dump and has dirty people and things, you think of it as a place where creativity flies high. You don’t think you ever met a group of more independent people than in New York City. You used your angelic powers to get yourself a penthouse suite in the Big Apple just so you could watch the humans live their life all around you.
And now Castiel is here, and you couldn’t be happier about it.
“Castiel!” you rejoice and hug him tightly.
“Y/N, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. Michael wants you back.”
“Michael can sit on his ass and wait. I cloaked myself. I didn’t want to be found, that’s why I prayed to you al the time in hopes you’d join me down here.”
You’re sitting inside a cafe in one of the corners, just watching as humans ordered, talked, and laughed with themselves and other people.
“Why Earth?”
“That seems to be the question that everyone asks these days. Why Earth? Humans are so messy and imperfect and animals. We’re so much above them that they don’t even have any kind of value or worth.”
“Exactly,” he nods.
“But that’s exactly why they’re so special. How old are we, Castiel? Megaannum, that’s how old. We’re millions of years old, and we still have millions more to go. They see the value in life because it ends. For some, it lasts 70 years and others, 100. But it ends, and that’s why they cherish it. They’re reckless and rash and impulsive, but they’re the best judge of characters. I’ve learned that living down here for a few centuries. I’m not human, but it’s not such a bad thing to learn to be it.”
“You sound like God,” he sighs.
“Yes, I do. The only difference between me and Him is that I actually lived among them instead of creating them. He may have created their structure, but they evolved from it and made it better. This is a new year, and I want to try new things. I want you to stay with me here, Castiel. I want to be human with you.”
“We’re not human.”
“No, but we can act like them. How about I make you a deal. You come camping with me for a whole week, and if you decide to stay with me, then that’s great. However, if you decide to go back home, then I won’t blame you. All I ask is that if you do, don’t tell them where I am. They’ll make me come home, and I already found a new one. I’ll still aid and help if and when Heaven needs me, but it’s not right now.”
“What’s camping?” he asks in confusion.
“Oh, Castiel, you’re going to love it! It’s where humans go into the woods and bring camping gear and tents and sleeping bags and non-perishable food while being in touch with nature!” you gush.
“Like animals.”
“You can be so stoic sometimes. Let me take you camping. It’s, like, the most human thing I’ve seen. Well, apart from eating and sleeping and showering. It’ll be so much fun!”
“Can’t wait,” he sighs.
His words express excitement, yet his tone expresses the complete opposite. Just he wait because this is going to be the best camping trip ever.
“You’ve been hanging with the Winchesters, I can tell. It’s why I brought this fancy-ass tent. You don’t need sleeping bags for this because there are air mattresses inside of it. They’re pretty sturdy actually. Great for sleeping.”
“We don’t sleep.”
“Exactly,” you smirk.
You’ve always had a crush on your fellow angel, but you never did anything about it. There are a lot of angels in Heaven making relationships with one another. It’s the most human thing you’ve seen them do. You’ve always hoped you and Castiel would be together one day, but then you left and you hadn’t seen him since. Maybe you can start something with him down here, and he would want to stay.
“What are we supposed to do now?” he asks.
“Now we set up the fire. It’s going to get dark soon. It’s my fault for leaving so late. I try not to use my powers down here. I’ve figured out how to live without them.”
“I could never,” he mutters, but you choose not to comment on it.
Castiel stands there as still as can be while you try to get the fire going. You want to be human, but you haven’t figured out how to everything they can do. Like building a fire, for instance. It’s a lot harder than it looks. Castiel can see you struggling, and he just snickers at your attempts to get a flame going.
“Whatever you lack in talent, you make up for in confidence.”
“Shut the hell up,” you laugh and give in with your powers.
You start a fire instantly despite not needing the warmth. It’s mostly to sit around and watch the fire embers bounce off Castiel’s face. You’ve never seen him in this kind of light, and you can only imagine what color blue his eyes would be against the red of the flames.
“We can start doing things tomorrow, but you need different clothes. It’s hard to do anything with a trench coat and suit on. Let me help you,” you state and walk over to him.
Your hands slide up his coat so you can push it off his shoulders. He watches the emotion in your eyes as you do so, so you know he sees just how much you want him.
“I can manage on my own.”
“You’re still so stiff. Let me help you with that. There’s a reason why I picked this spot. You want to know why?” you ask and step back from him.
“Why?”
“Because there is a lake, and I really love swimming. Care to join me?”
“Isn’t is tradition to wear a swimsuit when doing things like this?” he asks as you lift your shirt over your head.
If it’s possible, he gets stiffer at the sight of you in just a bra and shorts. Not just his body, but his cock as well. Jimmy Novak’s cravings must be getting through somehow.
“It is, but there’s also your birthday suit,” you smirk and finish undressing before his very eyes. “Care to join me?”
“I’d like that,” he says in a much lower voice than normal.
You turn with your back to him as you walk into the lake by your campsite. Castiel doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but he knows he wants to do it with you. The crush you have on him is exactly the kind of crush he has on you. He’s had it ever since you two were children. He never thought relations between angels were allowed until most recently. If he’s going to do anything with anyone, then he’d rather do it with you.
As soon as he’s naked, he walks into the lake to be by your side. While you don’t have sexual cravings as your angel grace prevents it, your vessel’s cravings do shine through. Castiel is a lean and sexy man, and she definitely likes what she sees.
“Do you like the way the water feels on your skin?” you ask as you swim closer to him.
“It’s nice, yes.”
“You’re still tense. Would you like me to help you relax? I’ve picked up a few tricks along the way,” you chuckle.
“What would you do that could help me? Don’t you get nervous or anxious in situations like these? Like you don’t know what you’re--”
You cut him off with a kiss to the lips. He’s shocked, to say the least, but he doesn’t not like it. His vessel is popping up through the cracks in more ways than one, and he’s not sure if she should roll with this or end it.
“Don’t think, feel,” you whisper and wrap your legs around his waist.
His cock springs to attention the more your hands and lips are on his body, but he knows exactly what to do. He’s been to Earth before, and he’s observed this kind of activity before. He’s never participated it in personally, but he knows what to do and where to put it.
“This is new,” he mutters lowly.
“Do you like it?”
“I do.”
“Then let me do more of it,” you grin.
Your lips move from his down to his neck to find that one spot that would have made his vessel soar with pleasure. The water sloshes around you two, but you don’t pay any attention to it. Instead, you’re focused on the thing that’s poking at your center. You’ve come to learn a lot about your body and what it can do and handle. Right now, you can handle a lot more than this.
“I’m not sure what to do now,” he pants.
“You do, Castiel. Take me back to the tent and have your way with me. You’ll know what to do,” you encourage.
You attach your lips to his just as his hands grip your body tighter. He begins the trek back to the tent without ever letting you go. You two drip water everywhere, but you can’t seem to care right now. He lays you down on one of the sturdy air mattresses before detaching his lips from yours.
“I’ve seen many people do this,” he mutters as he kisses down your neck and chest.
“And now you’re doing it yourself,” you moan when he takes a nipple into his mouth.
The noises you make and the way your body arches fuels him to go down further. It’s like the more skin he exposes to himself, the more he knows what to do. He’s not listening to the angel side of him, but the human side of him. Every angel has one, and the longer an angel spends away from Heaven and other angels, the more it pops out.
“Your body is exquisite,” he praises as he descends down your body.
“I can say the same thing about your mouth,” you chuckle-moan.
By the time he reaches your pussy, he knows exactly what to do. He licks one broad stripe up your center, and his vessel goes crazy with the need to be inside you. Castiel’s tongue is warm and wet, but there is time for that later on. Right now, all you want is to feel him inside you. You’ve waited a long time for this moment, and you’re not going to waste another second of it.
He kisses up your body and locks his lips with yours as he grabs the base of his throbbing cock in his hand. He rubs the tip over your lips a few times just to spread your juices around. Humans say this part hurts, but he knows you’ll be able to take the pain. He slides himself in inch by inch until he bottoms out, holding your hands in his by your head.
“Shit, Castiel, you feel so good inside me,” you moan.
“Who knew you could be this tight,” he chuckles.
He gains a surge of confidence that allows him to pull out and slam right back in. Your back arches the moment of impact, and your mouth forms a perfect ‘o’. No noise comes out of it because your body is just in complete shock at what he’s done. He can see how much pleasure he’s giving you, so he does it again, making sure to hit that one spot guaranteed to make you scream.
“Fuck!” you cry.
He doesn’t waste any more time and pistons in and out of you. Out of all the humans you’ve been with, Castiel is the one to come out on top. Nothing is better than angel sex because it can withstand a whole lot more than human sex. Castiel’s hips snap to yours aggressively, and he grips your hips to hold you in place. If he’s going to do this, he may as well do it right knowing you can take a lot.
“Play with my clit, Castiel. I’ll come easier with that,” you guide one of his hands to the bundle of nerves at your center.
“Like this?” he asks and pinches the bundle.
“Yes!” you squeak and moan louder.
He pinches and rolls your clit a few times as he thrusts go harder and deeper in you. Both stimulations are enough to cause the coil inside of you to get tighter and tighter. It’s going to snap soon, and you express it through your words.
“Feel that tightness in me, Castiel? I’m going to come if you keep that up,” you moan.
“Then come,” he simply puts.
Your body comes on command, coating his cock with everything you got. He didn’t know it himself, but he was also close. Feeling your release all over him caused him to shoot his load into you. He never knew sex could be this fun, otherwise, he would have done it a long time ago.
“That’s the best sex I’ve had in a long time,” you laugh.
Castiel pulls out of you and watches as the mixture of yours and his releases drizzle down your thighs. He lays next to you and looks at you as if you are his world.
“You’ve had sex before?”
“Castiel, it’s the best part about being human.”
“I’d like to learn more,” he says seriously.
“You know, I am going to wipe all that tension out of your body until you’re just like me,” you grin and bounce back rather quickly.
“Y/N, no one can be like you.”
“I take that as a compliment because Castiel, there is so much more for you to learn,” you grin.
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Warning: Demon blood addiction, angst, fluffy end, first fic ever written for on Tumblr,
Summary: Dean’s a demon, and the reader just wants to be the best hunter there is. Demon Dean knows the fix for that.
Word Count: 2,018
a/n: Told entirely in the first person. Edited it a bit, added some more content.
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Time was getting tough between me and the Winchester’s. Feels were raging, or was it hormones. I couldn’t take Dean’s asshole attitude, being a dick ninety percent of the time. When they slept I left a note for each of them explaining myself. Didn’t hear from them, I took it that they really didn’t want me, confirming not only Dean’s attitude, but Sam’s. That was months ago.
My phone vibrated and vibrated, indicating to me either my alarm was going off or I was getting a call. Sam was calling me. A pit in my gut says something’s wrong. He never calls me. Even when we were hunting together, when Sam called, something happened to Dean.
“Hello?”
“Y/N?” Sam sounded lost, broken on the other end.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? How’s Dean?” I asked rapid fire.
“I’m fine, Dean died a few days ago and now…” he paused. What? Dean died?
“He,” I began. My eyes stung, tears surfacing.
“He’s alive, don’t know why but he’s a demon.” He stated.
“A demon but, the tattoo you guys have.” I said, almost asking a question in that.
“I know, not sure if it’s intact. It could be the mark.” He said. The mark?
“You might have to get me up to speed on what you guys have been doing, what mark?” I asked.
“The Mark of Cain.” He said.
The next half hour was him saying he got the mark from Cain himself, on a mission to kill Abaddon. Now they were on a mission to kill Metatron, but Metatron killed Dean in the process. Now he’s a demon, doing god knows what.
“I’ll be on the lookout Sam.” I said.
“So, you’re not coming back, I know he can be a dick but, it’s Dean. It just takes him a while to warm up.” he tried to beg me back. It might have worked.
“I’ll have to think about it Sam,” I told him. Hesitant maybe at the thought of getting back with them. “I might, this hunting solo thing, it’s tough.” I said.
“I know, Dean did it for a while before he found me. Not sure how he got by, but I know we can save him. It was something I learned from the trials.” He said.
“The demon cure? Sam, what are the chances it would work and it not working?” I asked. There was that chance it could work.
“Never know until we try, we have to find him first.” He said.
“Like I said, I’ll keep an eye out.” I said.
After assuring him I’m fine right now, and I’d call him if I found him. Knowing Dean, not only making the search for him my top priority, I searched every bar with in a 50 mile radius.
I came across one, just by accident. I was done for the day, got a room down the road just needed a drink to unwind and relax.
“Hello Ferret.” A familiar brit or scot whatever.
“Crowley,” I say, meeting his gaze.
“And why do you give me that nickname, I’m not a ferret.” I whine.
“Would you rather I call you a rabbit?” he asked.
“Yes, rabbits are cuter, and they’re not mean.” I said.
“What brings you here?” he asked.
“Finishing up a long hunt, needed a drink. Now leave.” I asked, as the bartender brought me my drink, whisky on rocks.
And then I sensed someone sitting next to me, a little too close.
“Not interested.” I said coldly.
“Not even for an old friend.” It was Dean.
“An old dick ass of a friend.” I said harshly.
“I deserved that.” He said, stating the obvious.
Taking a sip of my drink. “What do you want Dean?” I asked coldly.
“Did Sam send you?” he asked.
“No, I was working a salt and burn nearby. Happened upon some witches at the same time, putting an undead asshole to rest, I’m exhausted. And I just want to unwind, and be left alone.” I said, lying at the same time. There was no witch.
“Tired of feeling exhausted all the time?” he asked. “Feel like you’ve lost that drive.” He adds.
“Doesn’t everyone?” I asked. “And you’re sounding like a, Viagra commercial or something.” I added.
He just smiles, clearly up to something. And gets up to leave. But I follow behind, leaving my payment for my drink on the table. In an alleyway, Crowley was there and did some spell that forced my feet to remain glued. I couldn’t move. Dean turns around, holding a small vial. It had dark liquid. I could only assume it’s his blood, his demon blood.
He starts walking up to me. “You’ll be a hunting machine; you’ll never be tired again. kill all the bad and not need a break.” He pitched.
“Sounds tempting, but pass. Sam nearly died when we tried to detox him off of demon blood. I’m not going down that stupid path.” I said.
“Oh, but my blood’s different than Ruby’s sweetheart.” He says. And he is close, he pulls the lid off.
“And you’re going to try it, one way or another.” He says.
Closing the distance, grabs my hair jerking my head back. The sudden sting of pain I gasped; he forced the red metallic tasting liquid through my lips. Once the vial was empty, he forced my jaw shut, forcing me to swallow. But I hold the liquid. I heard him groan in frustration, firm fingers stroking almost harshly on neck, forcing the muscles to relax and swallow.
The taste, was awful but the effects. Hearing became so keen. All the senses became keen. I smelled EVERYTHING. Heard everything to the fine pitter patter of his heartbeat. My head began to spin at the new senses.
“The high will last a bit, keep you busy for a while.” He said.
My gaze zeroed in on an individual. I saw fangs drawn; it was an alleyway across the main road from me. A vampire drinking from his next victim.
I sprint, faster than how I normally would run. Almost inhuman. And I grab him by the throat, throwing him away from the girl who dropped nearly lifeless, her heartbeat beating faintly. I took out my machete I keep on me, under my shirt on my back. And I behead him right then and there. Burning his body in an empty dumpster, I take the girl to the ER. And I call Sam, telling him I found Dean only for the phone to answer to some dude named Cole. He’s looking for Dean, for revenge.
“You don’t wanna do that, he’s not exactly,” I began only for him to cut me off.
“I don’t care, he killed my father, I vowed revenge.” He yelled.
“Fine, but it’s your funeral.” I said, hanging up. Now I have to warn Dean.
I think I’m still on my high, because I can smell him. I remember his smell, his scent. But he knew right away I was there at the bar.
“Can’t get enough sweetheart.” He says coyly. A smirk followed.
“Someone is after you, not Sam, a dude named Cole.” I said.
“Let him come, it’ll be his funeral.” He says.
“Already did, just don’t kill him.” I say.
“He your boyfriend or something.” He says.
“No, humility, I have a heart and soul. He’s just a hurting human, out for revenge for his father.” I explained bluntly.
He takes a drink from his beer. “You want more?” he asked.
“My head is starting to split in two, I feel sick. If this is the withdraw, yes. I want more.” I said.
He chuckles. “You give in too easily, meet me at your motel room.” He said.
He was true to his motive. I had gotten out of the shower, and tried to sleep but the pain, vertigo and the sick feeling would not subside. I sat on the edge of the bed, massaging my temples.
I felt the bed dip beside me.
“Ready for another hit sweetheart?” he asked, holding up his wrist, and in his hand a regular pocketknife. “Gotta be quick before I heal.” He says, bringing the blade across his flesh. And I see the blood ooze freely from the cut.
I tried to resist it. Turning my head away, but he just eggs it on. Holding his wrist closer to my lips. I felt the warm liquid touch my lips. Tasting the metallic flavor on my tongue. I was hooked.
My lips latched on; I began to suck on his wound. Feeling the liquid pouring into my mouth. I held his wrist close. At the same moment, tears began to sneak through my closed eyes.
I could feel him petting my hair, soothing me.
“That’s it my little junkie. Drink up.” he says.
What turned into two, turned into four, six then too many to keep track of. But once Sam found Dean, cured him I still tried to hide the fact that I’m going through withdraw.
It was the same night he was cured; I hadn’t had a hit of demon blood since Dean was cured, even days before then. I wanted to get off of it before I was in too deep. I tried to convince myself I could do this on my own. I didn’t need help. I even tried hiding it from the guys.
I think the dead giveaway was I was sweating, shaky, irritable.
I sat in my room on my bed, dead center of it with my knees hugged at my chest. My door opens with a loud thud. Sam walks in, angry yet concerned Dean right behind.
“You drank demon blood!” he shouted.
“I was going to tell you; thought I could do this myself.” I said. Bringing my head to my knees.
“We could have helped you.” Sam continued to shout. Dean placed a hand on his shoulder, calming him or attempting to.
“We’ve been through this before. We can help.” Dean says.
“It’s so bad, my ears are ringing, it’s so bad I can barely hear you. My head wants to split in two, the smells burn my nose and the light hurts my eyes. I can’t take it anymore.” I cried, placing hands on my ears, cradling my head.
“Y/N,” Sam says softly. “It’s withdraw, it’s going to be bad for a few days, maybe a week, depending on how much Dean gave you.” Sam explains, kneeling next to the bed.
“In the meantime, we’re going to have you in the dungeon while you go through the worst of it.” Sam adds.
“Am I dangerous?” I asked looking up at Sam, tears in my eyes at the fear of what is happening to me.
“No, well maybe. We don’t know how you’ll be during this. I know when I was going through it I had to be strapped to the bed.” Sam says.
“I just want to get better.” I cried. Bringing my head back down to my knees. I felt the bed dip. A familiar smell. Dean.
“You will, with our help you’ll get better.” Dean says, placing a strong arm around me hugging me from the side. I hug back, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“This is going to be a hard road, it’ll seem long, but we’ll be there for you to lean on. Give you a little push, but you will get better. Just got to keep on fighting sweetheart.” Dean says. I nod in his chest.
“I just wanted to be a better hunter. I wanted to find you all the same. I was tired of how weak I was, how easily tired I got, how easy it was to catch me, to hurt me.” I continued.
“Sweetheart, you’re better than any of us. And you’re going to get through this, because you’re a badass. You’re strong. But once you come out of the other side of this, you’ll be even stronger. Trust me.” Dean continues, rubbing my arm and shoulder in the hug.
“Come on, let’s do this.” Dean says, getting up. Leading me to the dungeon where I was going to fight for a better me.
Let me know what you think reblog/ask, feedback is fuel for success and better fics for all creators. ps, sorry for the long delay. had a rough week. :)
[A/N: Any fic made by me is mine, please do not copy and paste my stories. All characters belong to Supernatural and that belongs to CW and creator Eric Krepke, this is purely fiction. Don’t steal/copy and paste. Plus Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 10/3/2020]
A/N: This is a short story about Sam, dean and the reader going on a hunt and when Sam and the reader are left in the house alone they get stuck in a sticky situation. 😁 Enjoy
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader
Word count: about 800
The house I was in was undoubtably at least 100 years old based on the creaking floors and broken, boarded up windows. The salt and burn Sam, Dean and I were on was simple. Dean went to torch the body while Sam and I made sure no teenagers entered this thing called a house and got hurt. Everything was going totally smooth until Sam and I separated to go into different rooms. I decided to go down the hall to check out the rooms.
I entered to what seemed like a bedroom, I could barely tell since the only light I had was coming in through the brown paper covered broken windows. From what I could tell there was a large closet and a queen sized bed with a night stand next to it. I stepped further into the room and looked around, and every step created a loud echo that rang through out the old rickety house. I stopped, scanned,
and heard something behind me. Fearing it was the ghost I turned around and fired. Thank good I missed since it was Sam.
"Sorry Sam I guess I'm just a little bit jumpy right now. Old house like these give me the creeps" I shuttered.
"Yeah well next time just make sure it's me alright?" Sam brushed the hair out of his face. Suddenly the ghost flashed behind him.
"SAM BEHIND YOU!" I yelled he whirled around but it was to late. We were both thrown into the closet, the door slamming behind us. The closet was only big enough for two small people let alone a giant and a full grown woman.
I felt the steady rise and fall of Sam's breathing against my chest. He tried to push open the doors but it was no use. For a moment it was uncomfortable, both of us shifting to make it tolerable until dean found us.
"I'm sorry Sam it's my fault we're in here." I shook my head trying to see him through the darkness.
"It's not your fault y/n" Even though I couldn't see him all to well I could feel his eyes on me. I could feel my breathing quicken as my hand rested on Sam's arm. I felt Sams large hand find its way to the small of my back and somehow pull me even closer. He cleared his throat.
"Just Incase the ghost comes back," he said. I could hear that he was nervous.
We had been in the closet for about an hour now, stiff and quiet.
"I guess we're gonna be in here a little while longer." I joked. He exhaled out of his nose and I felt it over the top of my head. It was quiet for a moment again. It started getting warmer. I looked up in the dark just barely making out his face. And to my surprise his hair started to tickle my face and I felt him getting closer and closer. By now I could feel his soft breaths on my lips. Without hesitation I tip toed up and pressed my lips against his. The kiss was quick and only lasted a second before I regretted it thinking that he didn't feel the same way. But slowly I was pushed against the doors of the closet and our lips met again. But this time it was him that kissed me. I kissed back wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands cupped my face and I, to my surprise, closed my eyes and melted into it.
Suddenly the door that held all of our weight was on was pulled open and I fell backwards, Sam falling on top of me. I looked up to see Dean standing above us. He tilted his head and he gazed down on us. Sam groaned and climbed off of me, hair all in his face.
"What in" Dean was cut off. " Don't ask." Sam said, irritation in his voice. As Sam left the upstairs room Dean following I could hear him whisper, "go Sammy!" And threw a fist into the air.
Hi! Thank you so much for reading I hope it's okay! Any help or advice you have would be wonderful😁 this is my first story on Wattpad
Also written for @spnfluffbingo : Square filled- Cuddling
Warnings: Witches/hex, language, some angst, a fight, Dean’s a dick, period talk, Sam’s a bit rude, fluff, crack!fic
Word count: 3027 (My fics have been longer than usual lately. Good thing or bad thing?)
A/N- Woah, first crack!fic. Calm your tits, I know it’s a bid deal (Not really). Anyway, I wrote this fic for the lovely @squirrel-moose-winchester‘s crack fic challenge (happy early birthday!). My prompt was switching bodies, which I had a lot of fun with. I hope you guys enjoy, find it humorous or even hate it, whatever. Love y’all:)
Your limbs felt heavy against the wooden armrests of the chair, the witch’s lips by your ear, her whispers low and tickling your skin as she held your head against her mouth, the spell spilling from her lips. Your eyes were glazed over, the world tilting as you began to slip into unconsciousness.
She had popped up out of nowhere. You and the brothers had been hunting a witch- a trickster copycat more like- when she had sprung up from the shadows, grabbing you before the boys could notice. And here you were.
She was sly and downright annoying. She liked to pull pranks and trick people through her hexes. She turned a man into a potted plant, twins into a kit-kat bar and made one woman wake up as a man.
Now as she whispered a hex into your ear, you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell you would turn into. Fear bubbled into your stomach as you tried to move away but found it near impossible just to raise a finger, your body feeling as though cement had been poured inside of you and hardened.
“Y/N!” You heard Dean yell. His name was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t find your voice. The door to the room burst open just as the witch completed the verse, the redhead standing up straighter as the men rushed in. Dean’s eyes landed on you, his face going hard, nostrils flaring.
“Hello, boys. I was just finishing up with girlie here,” She said moving your hair off your shoulders.
“You bitch,” Dean growled. She scoffed.
“Real mature, Winchester.” Her heavy Georgian accent was accentuated with each word, her voice dripping honey as she smiled at them. She was a looker, one of the many ways she lured her victims in; long red hair in ringlets hung to her waist, wide blue eyes and a bright smile highlighted by cherry lips. She was a young witch and Dean couldn’t help but wonder why she had gotten into messing with people in the first place.
“What did you do to her?” Sam asked, worried hazel eyes locked on your dazed form.
“Oh nothing yet, baby. I haven’t finished the hex quite yet. But she’ll especially like this one, I promise.” She moved around the chair, walking slowly towards the men. Her hips swung with each step, a seductive smirk on her lips as she made her way to Dean. They were both captivated by her, an almost siren power rolling off her in thick waves. Before they could react, she had blown purple dust into Dean’s face, giggling before dashing from the room. He grunted, falling to his knees as Sam took off after her.
“Dean?” You murmured, finally coming out of the haze. He looked up at you, blinking and letting out a sneeze.
“Yeah sweetheart.” He got up, shaking his head a bit. “I gotcha.” He helped you out of the chair. You wobbled a bit but stabilized quickly.
A gun shot was heard in the distance and you and Dean shared a look. Sam came rushing in soon after, a small splatter of blood across his neck.
“She’s dead.”
***
“I feel fine, Dean,” You said sighing. He ignored you, his hands lifting your chin, looking this way and that way, his eyes roaming every inch of your body for anything that could say you weren’t “fine.”
“We don’t know what that witch did to you,” Dean said. “For all we know, you could be internally bleeding and we wouldn’t know it.”
You furrowed your brows, glancing over at Sam who rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Dean, chill. She’s fine. The witch is dead. Whatever she hit you and Y/N with probably went away with her.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Dean murmured. He let out a deep breath, standing back up from his crouched position in front of you. “I just get worried.”
“I know you do, baby,” You said, patting his cheek lovingly. “But I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”
He kissed your forehead before collapsing on the bed, groaning as he sunk into the springy mattress.
“Alright. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Remember- thin walls.” You laughed, nodding Sam farewell as he left you and Dean’s motel room, heading to his own.
“You going to sleep?” You asked, changing into one of Dean’s t-shirts and climbing in with him.
“Yep,” He grunted. He sat up, shrugging out of his clothes and laying back beside you, slinging an arm over your waist and pulling you close to his chest. You tilted your head up, his lips pressing firmly to yours.
“I love you,” You whispered. He hummed, kissing your jaw.
“I love you, too.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, sighing contently.
***
Your eyes fluttered open, a yawn escaping your lips. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled away from the body sleeping beside you, rolling out of bed. You stumbled a bit, feeling heavier than normal. Perhaps you had gained weight? You shrugged, not thinking much of it and trudged into the bathroom.
You closed the door softly behind you, your hand running to smooth your long locks back away from your face. Your heart leaped when you felt the soft, short hairs upon your head. Whipping towards the mirror, your eyes- or should you say Dean’s eyes- widened, a strangled scream erupting from your throat.
Somehow, you had ended up in your boyfriend’s body. Your now long H/C hair was short, light brown and spiked up by sleep like a hedgehog. Your E/C eyes had turned to a crisp leaf green, the flecks of gold you had loved inside his eyes now inside yours. A light coating of stubble graced your face, your hand coming up to rub over it, feeling the prickly strands against your larger, callused hands.
“Dean!” You bellowed, his voice coming from your mouth. You walked back into the room, watching as Dean- or, you- woke up, E/C eyes blinking awake. Dean sat up, rubbing his face and squinting at you.
He jumped into action seeing himself standing at the foot of the bed.
“Son of a bitch!” He reached under his pillow, fumbling for the gun that wasn’t there. He cursed to himself, eyeing you warily.
“Where’s Y/N?” He asked.
“I am Y/N you jackass,” You growled, downright scary as Dean. “Take a look at yourself.”
Dean furrowed his brows, scoffing. “Right.” You rolled your eyes- or- Dean’s eyes.
“I’m fucking serious, Dean. I woke up in your damn body and you woke up in mine.”
“What?” He got out of bed, rushing past you into the bathroom, a squeak falling from his mouth as he stared back at you. “How the hell did this happen?”
“I uh…” You thought for a moment, eyes widening in realization. “The witch.”
“Shit!” Dean grumbled, slapping his hand down on the counter. “I can’t be a chick. I can’t be… Shorter than you!” He turned to face you, your face staring up at you with a horror stricken expression.
“Oh yeah,” You said smiling. “I’m taller than you now! Awesome!” You moved closer to him, almost a head taller than him now. You laughed loudly, placing your larger hands on his shoulders. “Who’s the tiny one now?”
A knock sounded on the motel room door, the knob rattling as a key was being put into the hole.
“Morning,” Sam said as he entered the room. He tossed his pair of room keys onto the small table, watching as you and Dean emerged from the bathroom. He noticed your horrified faces and he chuckled. “What? Is Y/N pregnant or something? Wait, are you? I have noticed your stomach has been a bit rounder.”
“Oh wow. Thanks, Sam,” You said bitterly. His eyes flashed to yours.
“I wasn’t talking to you. And you can’t get pregnant, moron,” Sam said.
“Oh great. Now I can get pregnant,” Dean grumbled. His eyes widened, looking up at you. “Are you pregnant? Am I pregnant?”
“What? No! And fuck you, Sam!” You said angrily. “That really helps a woman’s self esteem, her best friend saying she’s getting fat.”
“Hey now. I didn’t say she was getting fat,” Sam said defensively. “And I wasn’t talking to you, Dean!”
“I’m pretty sure you were saying she was getting fat,” Dean said. Sam’s look of utter confusion made you laugh. One that was quickly dissipated when Dean sent you a glare.
“I didn’t say she was getting fat!” Sam said. “And why the hell are you talking about yourself in the third person?”
“I’m not,” You said.
“Yeah, she’s not. ‘The hell is wrong with you this morning?” Dean asked.
“What the hell is wrong with you two this morning?” Sam said loudly.
“You’re the one who called Y/N fat!” Dean said.
“I didn’t call… Wait… What?” Sam asked.
“The witch’s hex went through after all,” You said. “I’m Y/N.”
“And I’m Dean.” Dean nodded, clicking his tongue in annoyance.
Sam stared at the two of you in disbelief, his eyes flicking between the two of you. He looked like he was gonna scream.
And then suddenly he laughed.
A full body, throwing your head back laugh. You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched the youngest Winchester laugh his ass off at.
“Oh my god. That’s fucking great,” Sam said, wiping a tear from his eye.
“It’s really not,” Dean said.
“Oh, it so is,” Sam laughed. “Isn’t your period due, Y/N?”
You thought for a moment, a smile spreading across your face. “Holy shit, it is.”
“What?”
“You’re gonna have your first period!” You said slapping Dean on the back. He lurched forward at the force of it, a grunt escaping his lips.
“No I’m not,” Dean said. “We’re gonna find a way to fix this. And fast.”
“No, can’t we wait until next week?” You asked, sending a wink at Sam. He chuckled and shook his head.
“Hell no!” Dean growled. You and Sam looked over at Dean, his face- or, your face- scrunched up angrily. Now you understood why the boys never took you seriously when you got angry. You were kinda cute.
You and Sam burst out laughing, Dean rolling his eyes. He groaned then, his hand pressing to his lower abdomen, causing you and Sam to laugh harder.
“It’s not funny!” He said.
“It’s pretty funny,” you replied.
***
The drive back to the bunker was awkward to say the least. Dean sat in the passenger seat as Sam drove, having to move the seat up too far in your body. You were incredibly amused. Although it affected the both of you, it was the best thing to have happened in a while.
First, the waitress at the diner had hit on you. Which, of course, you weren’t interested in because of Dean, but he finally realized how you felt when girls would flirt with him left and right and he’d do it right back in front of you.
Next, men addressed you more. Usually as a woman, you tended to not be noticed or addressed as much as the brothers. Your hand was always in Dean’s or his arm was always around your waist, and men would speak to Dean directly. It was worse when you three were working a case.
“You sure you wanna go in there, little Miss?” “How are you supposed to go in there with heels? Why don’t you just wait out here?” “I’ll give you the keys, but I need to speak with you privately in my office.” It pissed you off, and when you expressed those concerns to Dean, he brushed you off, telling you that was silly, to man up. Heh, sure.
That’s rich.
It hadn’t been your idea for the two of you to switch bodies in the first place, but you wouldn’t deny it felt good to prove to Dean what you meant.
You had to show Dean how to use tampons, which was a chore. He had complained through the whole process, and then refused to let you show him how.
“Dean, it’s my body,” You had said. He had crossed his arms, staring defiantly up at you.
“And for the time being, it’s mine and that’s just weird,” He answered.
“That doesn’t make any sense! I’ve literally seen every inch of my body millions of times. Why can’t I show you how this works?” You had asked.
“Oh my god, get out.” He had pushed you out of the bathroom, an amused smirk on Sam’s face.
“I assume it didn’t go well?” He asked. You scoffed.
“No.”
For days, Dean had avoided you. It was getting quite annoying, honestly. He usually just locked himself in your shared room, making you sleep in your old room. The bed was too small for Dean’s body, and it started to piss you off.
Sam found a reversal spell, and had left to get the needed ingredients, leaving you alone in the bunker with your boyfriend in your body.
“Dean, open the door,” You called, knocking. He ignored you, like usual, but you just banged on the door harder. “I swear to God, Dean. If you don’t open this door, I will break it down.”
Silence.
Taking a step back, you raised Dean’s foot, kicking the door. Something snapped and you were able to push it open.
“What the fuck?” Your voice exclaimed from across the room. You found him, clad in one of his t-shirts and a pair of your sleep shorts.
“What the hell, Dean,” you growled. You stalked over to the significantly smaller body, towering over him for the first time. He craned his neck to look at you, jaw set. “I don’t know what your fucking problem is. I gave you space, I tried to help you. But you’re being a dick.”
“Well, sorry,” Dean said holding his hands up. “You’re the one who got us into this in the first place.”
Your brows raised. “Me?! It was the fucking witch, you dick! You think I wanted this?”
“She said you would!” He shot at you. “Now leave me alone.”
“Why are you acting like such a bitch?” You yelled. He glared at you.
“I don’t know. Maybe being in your body, I picked up some of your tendencies,” He snarled. Eyes widening, you took a step back, hurt flashing across your face.
He realized his mistake, his face softening. “Baby, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean-”
“Go to hell, Dean… Again.” You turned and stalked out of the room, not in the mood anymore to break the news about the cure.
***
You and Dean sat at the library table, a chair between the two of you, arms folded, sour looks on your faces. You were still pissed at him, and he hadn’t said a word to you since the earlier talk- which was normal now, you supposed, seeing as he rarely talked anymore anyway.
You watched as Sam made the cure, carefully mixing each ingredient before dividing the gray liquid into two cups.
“Alright,” he said. “Bottoms up.”
Not sparing Dean a second glance, you snatched the cup, tossing it back quickly. The metallic taste took you by surprise and your shuddered.
“Mutatio autem revertimini, quod est bonum novi.” Sam read the words as Dean finished his cup, face scrunching into one of displeasure.
You flinched as your ears started ringing, your hands coming up to grip your head.
“Jesus, Sam,” Dean said. “The hell did you do?”
It all happened quite fast actually. Suddenly the pain had stopped, your eyes fluttering open to find yourself in a different spot then you were before.
Looking up, you locked eyes with Dean, who was in his correct body. You narrowed your eyes at him, getting up from the table.
“Thanks for the help, Sammy,” You said over your shoulder, stalking to your old room and away from Dean.
You didn’t think you could contain your temper around him at the moment.
***
“Y/N?” Dean called through the door. “Let me in, would ya?”
You rolled your eyes. “Leave me alone, Dean.”
“You’re acting like a child. Just open the goddamn door.”
“No!” You said. “You can’t tell me what to do. Fuck off.”
You heard a bang against the door. Dean must have rested his forehead roughly against it.
“Come on, Y/N,” He said. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Really.”
You sighed, getting up from the bed and opening the door. He stumbled a bit at the loss of support but quickly regained his balance, giving you a soft look.
“I can finally look at you again,” he murmured, cupping your cheek.
“I’m still annoyed with you,” You said. He let out a breath.
“Come to bed?” He asked. You grumbled under your breath, flicking off the light and grabbing his hand, letting him lead you down the hallway into your shared room.
“I love you,” He said as you turned away from him in bed. His hand found your hip, thumb rubbing softly on your exposed skin where the shirt had ridden up. He moved closer to you, pressing himself into your back, your body automatically curling into his. You could practically feel his smirk.
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.” He sounded amused.
“You were thinking it.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because I know you… And I’m smart.”
He snorted. “Well, you’re pretty dumb to be with me.”
“You got me there.”
“Hey!” He laughed, tickling your side. You giggled, his lips pressing into the side of your neck. You could feel his smile against your skin.
“I missed being able to touch you,” He said. You hummed, grabbing his hands in yours. He took a deep breath, tangling his legs between yours and resting his face in the crook of your neck.
“Love you,” He murmured into your skin, lips tickling you.
“Love you too,” You told him. “Even if you are a dork.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Whatever.”
You smiled, letting yourself finally fall asleep in his arms.
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Summary: You and the boys just finished up a hunt. You took out a nest of vampires, killed them all. It was a successful hunt and you guys won, but it was still hard to kill sometimes. Dean headed to the bar with Sam, you stayed at the motel to pack and to fall asleep early. Sam comes back first, and he’s really drunk.
Pairing: Sam x (Gender Neutral) Reader
Word Count: 523
Warnings: Drunk Sammy, and Sam fluff.
---------
You hear a knock at the door, so you cautiously open it to be prepared for anything, but it’s just Sam. He stumbles right in and knocks his leg into the table.
“We got any beers left?” He mumbles at the door of the fridge.
“Maybe you should open it and check.” You laugh as you sat yourself onto your bed to watch Sam fumble with the fridge handle. “Are you drunk?” Sam abruptly stands up straight and folds his arms, turning toward you.
“Noooo. Why would you think that?” He purses his lips and averts your eyes.
“I don’t know, maybe just because you seem really… trashed?” You say standing up and folding your arms right back at him, stifling your laugh. His eyes meet yours and he squints, then bursts into a laughing fit and unfolds his arms. You let yourself chuckle, still standing with your arms crossed.
“Okay, yeah. Hell yeah.” He says walking up to you. “Y’know, I gotta tell you something, Y/N.”
“Alright, tell me.” You say as Sam keeps walking toward you. He stops when his toes are just about to touch yours.
“You’re amazing, and I just… I love you.” He says putting his hands on your shoulders, with a drunk look on his face. Your face softens and you don’t understand if he’s saying this in the way you want him to mean it.
“Yeah, and I love you too, Sam.” You say in a casual, but chipper tone, returning the ‘I love you’ like normal.
“No, like I-… Y/N, I really… really love you. You’re the one person I’ve felt totally connected to in my whole life. You get me, and you make me feel … safe. And nothing makes me happier than spending time with you. Which is why I walked home from the bar, so Dean could hook up with some chick and I could spend my time with you.” Sam slurred through this little confession, but he meant every word. You could see it in his eyes, and in that goofy smile he gave you afterwards. You couldn’t help yourself, you put your hands on either side of his face and you kissed him. He was shocked, but soon after your lips collided you could feel a smile on his lips and his hands found their way up your back. Your arms folded behind his neck and you pushed yourself up on your tippy toes, and then you heard the door open.
Dean…
“Am I interrupting something here?” Dean says popping in with a girl on his arm. You and Sam pulled away from each other immediately.
“Yes… yes you are. Go away.” Sam says in a serious tone, but still with a slight smile on his face.
“Okay, okay… just be careful you two.” Dean says with a smirk and a wink before backing out of the motel room. You and Sam laugh and turn back to each other, and your cheeks begin to burn as Sam gives you that same smile he did right before you kissed him.
“Where were we?” Sam questioned before kissing you again.
