#rewrite spn

[deancasforcutie]

a million years later I'm still emotional about how Dean's last word to Cas in the series was "Cas". the name he gave him, his brand on Cas as Cas' handprint was on him, marking all the ways they've changed each other, both affirming I am yours and you are mine. he was going to say "I love you" back but he already did

[stonelions]

starting to think dean's perception of cas as a weird, dorky, little guy is in fact a protection mechanism that he fired off subconsciously to shield himself from his otherwise mind-breaking attraction to a man wearing a beige trenchcoat & sensible shoes

[rubyvhs]

nightmare [dean winchester]

pairing; dean w x fem! reader summary; you go on a hunt with the brothers but when it goes to shit, dean can’t help being overprotective. tags; angst, stitching yourself, alcoholic dean, some you and sam in there cause he's the cutest baby, your dad died.

“fuck! sam, quick, get the girls.” dean runs into the impala forcing the engine to roar to life and flashes his lights at the highest setting for the vampires, burning their eyes as the other four get into it and he drives off.

it's quite for the first five minutes, except for the heavy breathing. the two girls that the trio rescued are sleeping peacefully, though you think it's anything but peaceful. their faces aren't relaxed, instead covered in blood and frowning, but their breaths have slowed, at least.

five minutes. that's all it takes before the tension is broken with a, “let me drive, dean.” the older winchester lets out an exaggerated airy laugh for all of two seconds before putting on a straight face and telling him no. “you're hurt, you can hardly keep your eyes open, let me drive, either of us.”

sam is right, dean is hurt way more than both of you combined, he fought off most of the vampires on his own while you took the girls and ran, but he was mostly hurt because he hadn't expected it.

your plan was to get the girls and dip then come back in the morning to wipe them out in their sleep, but you had woken one of them up with the loudest noise you've ever made when one of the girls stabbed you in the stomach with some glass she’d found on the floor. 

again, taken by surprise. obviously the girls thought you were one of the vampires. 

“shut up. it's only a ten minute drive to the nearest hospital.”

“we're going to a hospital?” you don't usually hunt with sam and dean, opting to stay in the motels and do some research, maybe figure out a better plan, but you've never seen them go to the hospital for their injuries, they'd always come home to you bleeding out on the floor.

“for you and the girls, yes.”

“what about you and sam?”

“it's fine.” that shut you up, his strict tone, and stare in the rear view mirror made you slide down in your seat.

ten minutes later you’ve reached 'northwest tawara horspital' and sam is helping the girls out of the impala. dean, while a wanted fugitive, does the same with you. 

but you refuse. “i won't go inside if you two aren't.”

“what?” he moves a little too quickly and holds his side as he winces. god, that can't be comfortable. 

“i won't go inside, we're just wasting time,” sam comes back and stands in the drivers side to talk to you, door open. “see? sam's back, let's get home quickly so we can fix you both up, and me.”

“no, you're going in.” sam was the one to insist this time but you just shake your head and stay planted into your seat. through the corner of your eye you can see both men discussing what to do then they get back in the car with a sigh.

on the drive home it’s mostly silent until you feel your eyes flutter closed. just a few seconds of sleep— but dean’s loud shout of your name wakes you up, “don't close your eyes, we need to fix you up first.” you nod and straighten up, “and what you did back there? fuckin’ reckless, don't pull that shit again. when we tell you to do something, you do it. or you don't come on hunts with us.”

“what the hell? i was the one who decided i didn't want to come with hunts on you guys, you can't take away my choice.”

“like hell i can't!” he isn't looking at you through the mirror, instead focusing on the road because you're on a busy one, but you can still feel his eyes burning into yours. it makes you shrink down in your seat. you hate how much his words affect you, and how visible it is too. 

sam has has never yelled at you really, but even if he had it wouldn't have done much damage, he's too soft for that. dean though... he scares you sometimes, not that he'd hurt you or kick you out, just that he'd be disappointed in you, maybe give you the silent treatment. you don't want that, but you also hate being barked orders at.

“you can't, dean.” sam says to his brother, slapping his shoulder once to ground him back, and it seems to have worked. because you’re not a bad hunter— if anything, you have their back most of the time, you aren’t clumsy or unreliable and what happened had been a mistake that any other hunter would have made. this isn’t about hunting. this is about dean being too controlling.

you thought it was over now that you're at the motel but when he parks baby, he looks back at you, “i can, and i fucking will. you can't act like a child and expect us to let you come on the hunts. you listen to whatever the fuck we tell you to do.” your lips part in surprise, thinking of how to respond, but he doesn't even give you the chance and gets out, slamming the door behind him. 

you don't look at sam as you close baby's door and start walking to the motel. sam catches up and tells you to wait and because you don't have it in you to be yelled at anymore, you turn back and face him.

he says your name, low and soft, “that wasn't an order,” 

shut up before i cry “hey,” he hugs you, your head on his chest and you just let it all out. god, you feel so stupid. you can't believe you were so unprepared and you caused them all this damage. if you had just been in defense mode you would've never screamed, you've been through worst and kept quite. and though you know it’s a little irrational, you can’t help but blame yourself for not being quiet.

“hey, he's just worried about you, he means well, you know that.” you let go slightly and he kisses your forehead, telling you to go into their room and that he'll be in yours to get cleaned up. 

+

walking into the room of the man who just basically called you a two year old is nerve-wrecking. you don't want to be screamed at and god knows you don't want to be treated like a child again. every time you think you’re getting through to dean, or that you’re becoming closer, something happens and he reminds you you’re still young, naive, and only with them because your dad had told them to.

your father is— was a hunter, he used to hunt with john sometimes, and when he heard about the apocalypse that's soon to be here and all the angels that seem to stride onto earth, he wanted to tie up loose ends, so he asked the winchesters to keep you with them until further notice.

then he never came back. but all of this is something you’ve dealt with ages ago. years even. but this? dean pushing you away all the time? acting like you’re some burden? that, you can’t get over.

“hey,” you hear his voice and turn around, not even having seen him walking towards the bathroom. “how you holding up?”

it’s a stupid attempt to make amends, but it works. the second he says anything, it works. it always does.

“fine.” you mumble and notice he’s finishing supplies to stitch himself up. ouch. you know the boys prefer to do it themselves than help the other out but you’ve always found they need a gentler hand. 

you walk towards him and hold his hand in place to stop his movements, taking the needle from him. he doesn't complain, just drowns the bottle of whiskey. with one hand, the other holding his shirt up. 

when it’s done you hold my hand out for the bottle and he scoffs, as if wasting his alcohol hurts him more than the wound that just got stitched up. he hands it over reluctantly.

you pull down his shirt and decide it’s better if you take a swig too. “does it hurt?” the questions rolls off easily, no matter how angry you are at him. 

“i'll survive.” he shrugs like it's nothing. like the gash over most of his stomach is nothing.

“not what i asked.” dean half-heartedly glares at you but your expectant expression makes him think there isn’t a way out. and there isn’t.

“it's fine, my arm’s just sore.” you sit next to him on the bed, pushing his sleeve up and he hisses, muttering something under his breath and snatching the bottle from your hand to drown it. 

“dean...” it’s surreal. it knocks all the air out of your lungs. you’ve never seen the mark, the one an angel of the lord imprinted on dean’s shoulder, though sam talked about it a couple of times. you clear your throat before he notices the staring and point to the wound, “i think you need to stitch that one too, hand me another needle.”

he does and you get to work. it’s mostly noiseless but it feels like there's something heavy in the air, a confession. though it’s impossible to tell who’s supposed to make it.

“i'm sorry.” you try to hide the surprise on your face by looking down but he doesn't let you, hooking his fingers under your chin and he makes you look up at him. “i was so worried about you.” he lets go, taking a breath in, “the way i felt when you screamed? damn it, i've never felt so scared before and i've been to hell,” he lets out a dry laugh and you smile a little. god he's so perfect.

“i don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart, never, so when i ask you to listen to me it isn't because i'm treating you like a child, i just wanna keep you safe.” there are more words on the tip of his tongue but he shuts up and it doesn’t nothing to help the growing smile on your face. it's more than you thought you’d ever get out of him.

you pour a more of the alcohol on his stitches and pull the sleeve down. “okay, you officially need a shower now, you're all booze and cologne. i need to clean this place up.”

“it's fine, sammy and i will do it.”

“not happening. go get cleaned up, i'll finish here.” you knew that what you’re doing is painfully obvious, but you hope he lets it go, just this once. 

of course he doesn't, instead pulling your shirt up to reveal the various cuts that don’t need stitches, just some treatment, and the stab wound you fixed in the car when they were both too busy sulking in the tension. you’ve gotten a lot better at handling pain since you’ve started with the winchesters.

“when did you do that?”

“doesn't matter, it's done. get in the shower dean, let me clean up and go to sleep.”

“damn it, just answer me when i ask something. when did you do this?”

“car.” you’re scared, tired and you don't want to fight. but he just apologized, for god’s sake, can’t he give it a rest.

you wait for his harsh blow. words that will knock you off my feet, anything really, but he just sighs, letting the shirt go and stands up. you do the same and he embraces you in a hug that you’re quick to reciprocate. so quick you’d already had your arms around his neck before he got his around your waist.

the whiskey burns your nose but it's nothing compared to how your body burns with you so close. “dean?”

“you're so strong, you know?” he takes a beat, a breath, “but that doesn't mean shit to me, i still wanna keep you safe all the time because god knows i don't deserve you but i'm too selfish to let you go.”

you pull away just to see his face. you need to know he means what he's saying. that you’re talking about the both of you in the way you’re thinking. the desperation to convey how he feels to you, it gives you all the confidence in the world to stand a little taller and finally kiss him.

you kiss dean winchester because for the first time in ages, someone cares, someone wants you safe. someone learned from their mistake and did better, someone is fucking perfect and it's dean. 

one of his hands is rough on your waist, the other on you cheek. his tongue, his cologne, it all makes you melt into him. 

then ten seconds later, way too deep into the kiss he pulls away slowly, shakes his head and groans, “why'd you do that.”

you step away him in panic. you were ready for rejection, sure. a small ‘i don't see you like that’, not this.

“i'm sorry, i didn't mean to—”

“no, no, hey,” he steps closer “i just... i don't wanna do this if it's gonna hurt you. i don't know how good i will be if we go down that road and you deserve something good.”

“you are dean,” he licks his bottom lip and it catches you attention, forcing you to bite on yours, “you're good. you're perfect.”

one thing i will not allow in my household is the winchester brothers being insecure that they're not enough (pov it’s all they do). anyways sooo this is for the jensen-a-thon for @artyandink so excited to have my first entry and there’s another one i’ve been working on for a week (hopefully i’m almost done with it). hope you enjoyed this!

[limbel]

🏳️‍🌈 day 2 ~ love in his eyes

sometimes love is fire and it consumes and devours and burns everything to the ground

sometimes love hurts before it gives you the chance to know that it's there

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bloodlust | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, implied sexism/objectification

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Dean was in the best mood you’d seen him in in a long time. He was grooving to his music as the Impala cruised along the highway; having finally fixed his baby. “Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me know, Dean.”

“Oh, don't listen to her, baby. She doesn't understand us.”

Sam laughed. “You're in a good mood.”

“Why shouldn't I be?” Dean questioned.

“No reason.”

“Got my car, got a case; things are looking up.”

You hummed. “Wow. Give you a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you’re little miss sunshine.”

He laughed. “How far to Red Lodge?”

Sam responded, “Uh, about another three hundred miles.”

“Good,” Dean smirked, flooring it.

***

The sheriff you and the brothers talked to obviously thought the three of you were insane when you questioned him about the decapitations and cow mutilations. He ordered you to get out of his office, to which you agreed.

Needing another plan, you and the brothers headed to the hospital in your respective suits and dress. You didn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes raked over your body as you made your way into the morgue.

“Decorum, please,” you teased, swishing your hips as you walked ahead of him.

Dean walked closely behind you and read the nametag of the unsuspecting intern sitting behind the desk. “John.”

“Jeff,” he corrected.

“Jeff. I know that,” Dean chuckled. “Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.”

“But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation.”

“Well, he's back. And he's pissed, and he's screaming for you, man, so if I were you I would—” he clicked his tongue and jutted his thumb behind him.

The intern looked terrified and ran away.

“Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead,” Sam responded.

“Yeah. So much fucked up crap happens in Florida.” He handed you and Sam pairs of latex gloves and tugged on a pair of his own. 

You pulled out a metal bed with a woman’s corpse laying on it and a box between her legs. 

“Alright, open it,” Dean told Sam.

“You open it,” Sam protested.

“You guys are pussies.” You grabbed the box and took the lid off, unfazed by the sight before you.

Dean cringed at the sight of the head, saying, “Well, no pentagram.”

“Wow. Poor girl,” Sam said.

“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat. Y'know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.”

“Yeah, here, go ahead,” you smirked, spinning the box toward him.

“No, you go ahead,” he rebutted.

“What?”

“ ‘Put the lotion in the basket.’ “ 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.” You pried her mouth open and looked down her throat. 

“Dean, get me a bucket?” Sam grimaced. “I'm going to puke.”

You felt around her mouth a bit more and found strange grooves above her gumline. You pulled her lip up and pressed just above one of the holes, and a fang descended. “Oh, this fucking bitch.”

“She’s already dead, (Y/N), relax,” Dean told you.

“Well, this changes things,” noted Sam.

“Ya think?” you and Dean asked in unison.

***

You and the brothers decided to go for a few drinks after the discoveries you’d made and pick up the next morning. You immediately felt a man’s eyes on you and uncomfortably shifted in your seat. “You pickin’ up what I am?” you discreetly whispered to Dean.

“Yeah, definitely,” he responded lowly, sitting on a barstool. “How's it going?”

The bartender answered, “Living the dream. What can I get for you?”

“Three beers, please.”

Sam began, “So, we're looking for some people.”

“Sure. Hard to be lonely,” the bartender smirked. 

“Yeah. But, um, that's not what I meant.” Sam pulled a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and dropped it in front of the bartender, who took it hesitantly. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink—”

“Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night,” Dean chimed in.

“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot— drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.”

You and Dean thanked the bartender for his help and continued to nurse your beers. After a few minutes, you and the brothers continued to feel the man’s eyes on you. On high alert, all three of you moved for the door and noticed all that was left of the man was a smoldering cigarette in an ashtray.

You and the brothers walked out of the bar and past the Impala to lead the man who’d been stalking you away. You rounded a corner and jumped out of the way so the brothers could pin the man who’d followed you to the wall. Dean held a knife to the man’s throat and commanded, “Smile.”

“What?” the man asked.

“Show us those pearly whites.”

“Oh, for the love of— you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire," he replied nonchalantly.

You frowned.

“Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.” Even his voice was unsettling.

“What do you know about vampires?” you asked.

“How to kill them. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.”

Dean cocked his head and the man started to pull away. Sam pinned him down harder. 

“Whoa. Easy there, Chachi,” the man said. He slowly brought his hand up to his lips and revealed normal gums. “See? Fangless. Happy?”

Dean let him up. “Now. Who the hell are you?”

"Gordon. Gordon Walker," he replied. "You?"

"I'm Dean. This is Sam; that's (Y/N)."

The man led you over to his car and pulled out an arsenal rack from behind his backseat. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot—”

Dean was on-guard. “You seem to know a lot about our family.”

“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk,” the man explained.

“No, I don’t, actually,” you chimed in.

“You're a firecracker, aren't cha?” he asked. His somehow hauntingly melodic voice had you on edge.

You refused to respond.

“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam jumped in.

“Yep. Been here two weeks.”

“Did you check out that Barker farm?” Dean questioned.

“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though, they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” You almost laughed at Gordon’s comment. 

“Where's the nest, then?” Dean asked.

“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin; tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.”

“We could help,” Dean suggested.

“Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.”

Dean groaned, “Come on, man, I"ve been itching for a hunt.”

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” He got down into his car and leaned out of the window. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off.

“He seems like a world-class douche,” you commented as you watched his retreating red car.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam snorted. 

“C’mon.” Dean started off to his car.

“Where we goin’?” 

“To find ourselves a fang.”

***

Dean followed Gordon’s distinctive red car to a warehouse where you deduced he’d tracked a vampire to. 

You rushed up the labyrinth of ladders toward the sounds of a running mill saw and the two men struggling. When you arrived at the scene, you saw Gordon on the verge of getting his head taken off by the vampire and the saw. You and Sam each grabbed a boot and pulled Gordon away from the vampire’s impressive strength. Dean attacked the vampire and replaced Gordon with him, lowering the saw to the vampire’s throat. You watched in concern as blood sprayed across Dean’s face, and he seemed completely unreactive. 

“So, uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink,” Gordon chuckled awkwardly. 

***

You agreed to meet Gordon back at the bar you’d met him at after you cleaned Dean up. Sam went into the bar with Gordon to get a round of drinks started. You took hydrogen peroxide out of the first aid kit in the car and began to wipe Dean’s face off with it.

“I can do this myself, y’know,” he mumbled.

“I do.” You let a silence settle between you before you spoke again. “What happened to you back there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dean, you got fucking scary back there. I’ve never seen you like that,” you explained.

“I was just excited to get back to huntin’, (Y/N).”

“No, dude, I know you. You’re lethal but never… cold. You’re worrying me,” you admitted.

“Well, don’t, okay? I’m fine,” he said, lightly pushing you off him and taking the towel from you. He finished wiping himself off and began to walk inside. You were hurt but refused to let that show and followed him into the bar. 

***

Rounds deep of Gordon and Dean swapping stories, you and Sam were exhausted of the talk of blood, guts, and gore. Gordon soon circled back to Dean’s kill of the evening. “Dean,” he laughed. “You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you,” Dean grinned.

“That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Was it, though?” you questioned, ignoring the way Dean’s gaze burned into the side of your head and keeping your eyes locked on Gordon.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Dean asked you.

“Fine,” you responded.

“Well, lighten up a little, sweetheart,” Gordon jested.

“He's the only one who gets to call me that,” you immediately stated firmly.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”

“Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess,” Sam chimed in.

“Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job,” Gordon said simply. 

"That's what it is, though," you broke in. "A job. I enjoy it, but bloodshed doesn't exactly get my rocks off." You kept your eyes locked on Gordon, who stared back.

Sam sighed and stood up. "Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel. C’mon, (Y/N).”

“You sure?” Dean asked the two of you as you stood.

The two of you nodded wordlessly.

“Remind me to beat that buzzkill out of you two later, alright?” Dean joked, throwing Sam the keys.

You walked out angrily and didn’t say a word to Sam on the way back to the motel.

***

“I don’t like that guy,” you muttered to Sam as you paced around his and Dean’s motel room. “I really don’t like vampires, but I really don’t like that guy.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m gonna call Ellen; see what she thinks.”

“Good idea.”

Sam raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, Ellen, uh, Sam Winchester… Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. Got a question. You ever run across a guy named Gordon Walker?... And?... Well, we ran into him on a job and we're kinda working with him, I guess…” His face suddenly changed. “I— I thought you said he was a good hunter.” 

You watched curiously as he listened to another thing she had to say before bidding the woman goodbye. “I’m guessing she told you he was bad news,” you said once he’d hung up.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Great.”

“Sam, I hate vamps more than probably anybody. But Dean was just… so… not Dean when he took the head off that one,” you said.

“I know. It’s buggin’ me, too,” he sighed. “I’m gonna go get a drink. You want one?”

“Just a water, please,” you replied.

Minutes went by, and Sam still hadn’t returned from the vending machine. You were beginning to get a little worried, but decided that maybe he just needed a second to himself. When ten minutes turned into fifteen, though, you really started to panic. You darted outside and looked over to the vending machine. Sam was nowhere to be found. You called Dean in a panic, saying, “Dean, Sam’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“What?! What the hell happened?!”

“I don’t know!” You ran a hand through your hair. “He just went to get a drink, and now he’s gone!”

“Well, maybe he just went for a walk,” Dean tried.

“No, Dean, he would’ve told me. What the hell is with you? Normally, you’d be flipping out by now.”

“Watch it, (Y/N). Hang tight. We’re on our way.” He hung up the phone.

‘We. Gordon. Fucking fantastic.’

***

When Dean and Gordon returned to the boys’ motel room, you clung to the back wall, feeling very uncomfortable around Gordon and Dean’s new attitude.

Gordon was discussing strategies on how to get Sam back with Dean— supposing the vampires you were hunting was behind this— when the man in question strolled through the door.

“Sam?!” you asked, pushing off the wall and running to him. You hugged him tightly around his neck. “Where the hell did you go?”

“Can I talk to you two alone?” he asked you and his brother.

“You mind chillin' out for a couple minutes?” Dean asked Gordon, who shook his head. You and the brothers exited the room and stood in the parking lot. 

“Guys, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”

“What makes you say that, Sammy?” you asked. 

“Where were you?” Dean questioned.

“In the nest.”

“What? You found it?” Dean questioned. Yours and his eyebrows shot up.

“They found me, man.”

“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?” the older brother asked.

“None.”

“Well, Sam, they didn't just let you go.”

“That's exactly what they did.”

“No fucking way,” you said. “I know vamps, they wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, how do you explain the fact that I’m not dead, (Y/N)?”

You shrugged. “Good point. But what the hell, man?”

“Where is it?” Dean asked.

“I was blindfolded. I don't know.”

“Well, you've got to know something,” the older brother pressed.

Sam huffed. “We went over that bridge outside of town, but guys, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.”

“Why not?” you and Dean asked.

“I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.”

“The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.”

“And you believed them?”

“Look at me, Dean. They let me go without a scratch.” Sam held his arms out to either side of himself, encouraging you and Dean to examine him.

“Wait, so you're saying—” Dean cut himself off. “No, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care. We find 'em, we waste 'em.”

“Why?” Sam huffed.

“What part of 'vampires' don't you understand, Sam? If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”

“No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil!” the brunet argued.

“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same, Sam. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.”

“Dean, I’m with Sam on this one,” you finally said.

“Really, (Y/N)? You?” he looked at you stunned.

“Yeah, dude. I trust Sam. I hate vampires more than the next person. But I just don’t feel good about this hunt all around. I say we leave these vampires and Gordon in our dust,” you responded.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Dean scoffed. “Gordon?”

“Why are you so defensive of him?” you questioned, voicing rising slightly.

“Because he’s been going after these things for a year, (Y/N), I think he knows,” he said.

“Sam called Ellen. She says he’s bad news.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Dean looked at his brother. “You called Ellen?”

Sam nodded.

“And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, (Y/N). No thanks, I'll go with Gordon.”

“Right. ‘Cause Gordon’s such an old friend,” you scowled. “You think I can’t see what this is?”

“What are you talking about?” Dean grunted.

“He's a substitute for your dad, isn't he? A poor one.”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

“Hey! Don’t talk to me like that.” You stepped closer to Dean, face set angrily.

Dean wasn’t backing off. “Then don’t talk to me like that.”

The two of you were in each other’s faces, angrily staring each other down.

“You know what? I'm not even going to talk about this,” Dean grumbled, turning away from you.

“I know exactly what you’re doing, Dean. I can see right through you. I know how you feel. I lost my dad, too. But nobody can replace him. That hole you’re feeling hurts; I know. But this isn’t what’s gonna fix it.”

He snorted humorlessly. “Okay.” He walked away from you and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He turned to his brother. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.”

You followed him back into his motel room. “We are not done with this conversation.” 

Dean went to respond to you but noticed Gordon was gone before he could. 

“You think he went after them?” Sam asked.

“Probably,” you said. “Dean, we have to stop him.”

“Really, (Y/N)? Because I say we lend a hand.”

Sam chimed in, “Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that.”

“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.”

Sam gestured to the table where he’d set the keys earlier, but they were gone. “He snaked the keys.”

“Fucking awesome,” you grumbled, eyeing Dean angrily for his trust in Gordon.

Dean then had to hotwire his own car, cursing under his breath about how he’d “just fixed her.” “So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?” Dean asked his brother as the three of you began to speed off.

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm,” Sam explained.

“How do you know?” you asked.

“I counted.” 

You smiled. This was another one of those moments where he reminded you a lot of Steven; he would've done the same thing.

The younger brother continued, “They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right, and we hit the bridge.”

***

A while later, you and the brothers arrived at the farmhouse the vampires had been holing up in. You found Gordon circling a tied-up vampiress covered in scratches and her own blood. 

“Guys. Come on in,” Gordon grinned at you.

“You’re fucking sick,” you growled, eyeing him dangerously.

“You wanna get a handle on your girlfriend there, pal?” Gordon said to Dean.

Dean ignored his comment. “What's going on?”

“Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?”

Dean sighed. “Look, man—”

“Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers.” Gordon dragged his knife across her arm, cutting her deeply.

“Stop it!” you ordered.

“Hey, let's all just chill out, huh?” Dean said simultaneously.

“I’m completely chill,” Gordon responded coolly.

“Gordon, put the knife down,” Sam quietly pleaded. He went to step toward Gordon, but Dean held him back.

“Sounds like it's Sam here needs to chill,” Gordon scoffed.

“Just step away from her, alright?” you tried.

“You're right. I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery.” Gordon pulled out a larger knife. “I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane.”

You stepped to block Gordon from reaching the vampire. “Gordon, I'm letting her go.”

Gordon pointed the knife at your chest, stopping you. “You're not doing a damn thing.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Gordon, let's talk about this,” Dean broke in, concern rising in his voice.

“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.”

“Yeah. I hear ya. And I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” He turned to Dean, but kept the knife trained on your chest.

“That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one—”

Gordon laughed. “Killed my sister? That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.”

Dean’s awkward smile wavered. “You did what?”

“It wasn't my sister anymore; it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you.”

“Gordon, I had to do the same thing to my parents,” you said. “But my parents were trying to eat me. I think that’s a bit of a different circumstance than these guys who are just eating a few cows.”

“Then you should understand why I have to do this.” He pushed the tip of his knife into your chest, trying to get you to back up. You hissed in pain.

Dean immediately drew his gun and pointed it at Gordon. “Cut it out.”

“So you knew all along, then?” Sam continued provoking the hunter. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.”

Gordon chuckled. “Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” With no warning, he grabbed your arm and sliced it open. You yelped as he held your arm out with one hand and held the knife to your throat with the other. He shoved you toward the vampire tied up in her chair.

Dean cocked the gun and demanded, “Let her go. Now!”

“Relax. If I wanted to kill her, she'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.”

“Oh, you motherfucker—” he held your arm over the vampire while you struggled, causing blood to drip on her face. She hissed, and her fangs extended. 

“Let me go!”

“You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.”

The vampire controlled herself, though, retracting her fangs and turning her face away. You softened at the sight as Dean continued to try and intimidate Gordon.

“You hear her, Gordon?” Sam said. 

The vampire was stringing together a chant of “No” over and over again, trying to control herself.

You kicked Gordon between the legs and worked your way out of his grasp when the knife moved away from your neck. “We're done here.”

“Sam, get her out of here,” Dean told his brother. 

He did as told, and when Gordon tried to step toward him, Dean caught his attention with the gun. “Uh-uh. Uh-uh! Gordon, I think you and I've got some things to talk about.”

“Get out of my way,” Gordon told you and Dean, who both had guns trained on him.

“Sorry,” Dean murmured.

“You're not serious,” the man scoffed.

“I'm having a hard time believing it too, but I know what I saw. If you want those vampires, you gotta go through me.”

Gordon nodded, considering. He looked down at his knife and jammed it into the table. “Fine.”

Dean looked at the knife and then his gun. He pulled the clip out of his Taurus and set it aside.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you asked.

“Trust me on this one.”

You kept your gun trained on Gordon as he lunged at Dean. You couldn’t get a clear shot as the two of them rumbled around. You couldn’t lie, they were pretty evenly matched in hand-to-hand combat. Gordon grabbed his knife again and held it to Dean’s throat. “What are you doing, man? You doing this for a fang? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here.”

“I don't think so, you sadistic bastard.”

Gordon threw Dean across the room.

“Hey!” you said, cocking your gun. “Back off!”

“Stay out of this, sweetie,” Gordon told you before turning back to Dean. “You're not like your brother. You're a killer. Like me.”

Dean kicked Gordon down and hauled him up against the wall before elbowing him between the eyes. He pinned him under his elbow and slammed his head into another wall. “Oh, sorry.”

You chuckled despite the situation as you and Dean began to tie Gordon up.

“You know, I might be like you, and I might not. But you're the one tied up right now,” Dean monotoned down at Gordon. He turned to you when he seemed to come back to reality. “Are you okay?” He put his hands on either side of your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. 

You nodded. “Fine.”

He grabbed your arm gently and looked over the cut Gordon had given you. Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I’m gonna take care of that.”

“Dean, you don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do.” He took a deep breath. “You were right.”

You gave him a lopsided smile. “I know.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to have a moment with you here,” he smirked.

You just smiled and looked down to the floor. “I know. Thank you.”

Sam came back into the room. “Did I miss anything?” he asked, noting Gordon tied up.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, not much. She get out okay?”

“Yeah. All of 'em did.”

Gordon groaned as he came back to. 

“Then I guess our work here is done. How you doin', Gordy? Gotta tinkle yet?” Dean snarked, making you giggle.

Gordon just glared at him.

“Alright. Well, get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days; have them come out, untie you.” He jammed Gordon’s knife into the table behind him.

“Ready to go, Dean?” Sam asked.

“Not yet. I guess this is goodbye. Well, it's been real.” He hit Gordon straight across the jaw, knocking him to the floor. “Okay. I'm good now. We can go.”

As you exited the farmhouse, you grabbed at your arm that suddenly began to sting. 

“I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up,” Dean lamented.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives. What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us—” Dean trailed off and shook his head.

The younger brother’s expression softened. “Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could.”

“I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it.”

“You didn’t kill that girl, though,” you pointed out.

“No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all.”

“Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters,” Sam reminded him softly.

“Yeah. Well, 'cause you two are a pain in my ass,” Dean grunted.

“Guess we might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then,” the brunet smirked.

“Thanks,” Dean said honestly.

“Don’t mention it.”

***

You returned to the motel to quickly shower off and gather your things. Dean followed you to your room and looked down at your arm. “Gimme that,” he said.

“What? My arm?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“This is our thing now, I guess, huh?” you asked as he pulled a chair up to where you sat on your bed, using your first aid kid to clean your wounds.

“Oh, god, don’t try and make this cute,” he groaned.

“Well, it is!” you protested. “I like how much you care.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you began to work on Dean’s wounds he’d sustained from Gordon.

“(Y/N), I—” he began, “I was a complete asshole back there. I just… it’s what I told Sam, I mean, this changes everything for me.”

“I get it,” you nodded. “Me, too. You know I fucking hate vampires, and I wanted to smoke every last one of them. But I don’t know. I’m starting to see the humanity in ‘em, I guess.”

“‘S funny. Humanity in monsters.”

“I know,” you giggled. “Sounds stupid saying it out loud. But think about it. That chick reacted the way any regular person does with severe addiction. Just makes you think, y’know? Maybe they’re more like us than we ever thought.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Don’t get all philosophical on me; I can’t keep up when you do.”

“Yeah, but you love it, though,” you teased.

“I do, actually,” he said, much to your surprise. “You’re so smart, it scares me sometimes.”

“Whoa, look at you and your compliments,” you joked, grinning.

“What?" he chuckled.

“Normally I'm the touchy-feely one,” you answered, giggling. “But thank you. It means a lot coming from you.” You finished wrapping a bandage around his knuckles. “There.”

He flexed them painfully in your upturned palm before playing with your hand in his. You looked up at him, breath hitching in your throat. “Dee, if you’re not ready—”

“(Y/N),” he said, leaning in to you. You surged forward and connected his lips with yours.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[beatsheetromanroy]

body swap episode let’s go!!! it’s a cursed object or some nasty, powerful spellwork. it zaps rowena, dean, and cas who are all in the same room together. rowena becomes dean, cas becomes rowena, dean becomes cas. jack walks into the room and with the ability to see people’s souls, recognizes everyone immediately. poor sam now has to see the woman he has feelings for in the body of his brother and he’s NOT having a good time!! rowena in dean is all loose, confident, flirty, she charms cas in her own body which drives sam and dean INSANE (for totally different reasons obviously.) it would be so fun to see rowena-cas stiff, serious, and genuine. cas realizes the deep attachment he’s grown to his body. dean’s freaking out about the possibility of needing to pee or take a shower. “I’m not gonna look at some other dude’s junk, that’s not cool!” meanwhile cas informs him that he won’t need to, “there’s enough grace left over in my vessel that will eliminate the need for bodily functions” forcing dean to act disappointed “oh, good” (he says lying) while he tries to actively avoid feeling up cas’ pecs.

[mxltifxnd0m]

sick days ◎ s. winchester

summary: after multiple back-to-back hunts, the stress and fatigue gets to sam

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader

word count: 3K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, taking care of sick! sam, barely edited lol

a/n: my last sam fic before i go back to college and get swamped with my course load. writing will slow down and be posted sparingly but i still plan to post if i have time!

as always, like, reblog, and comment on the fic! i always like hearing constructive criticism and love feedback <33 (also my last fic kinda flopped so give it some love please!)

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

It was rare for the boys to get sick. Surprisingly, they had very strong immune systems, and considering how well Sam ate, he would be the last person in the bunker to get sick. 

But you guys have been running yourselves ragged with hunting, having gone on them back to back for the past month and a half. It was exhausting, and when you guys made it back to the bunker, you all but collapsed in your shared bed with Sam, not even bothering to get under the covers. 

When you got up the next day, you felt significantly better, but exhaustion still riddled your body. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. It was nearing noon. It didn’t surprise you that you slept that long; the three of you got back to the bunker well into the late morning. You began to get up from next to the sleeping giant next to you, but you were immediately pulled back by a strong arm wrapping around your lower stomach. You let yourself be dragged back into Sam’s body and let his warmth cocoon you. 

You feel his jean-covered leg intertwine with yours as your chest hits his back, and Sam leaves a sleepy kiss to your pulse point as he nuzzled you, the scruff on his face from not being able to shave for the past two days scratched softly against your neck, making fond smile stretch on your lips. 

“What time is it?” You heard the rasp of Sam’s tired voice whisper in your ear. 

“Almost noon.” You told him as you traced shapes on his bare arm before interlacing his fingers through yours, your interlocked hands resting on your abdomen. 

Sam let out a soft groan before nuzzling your neck further, making a soft laugh escape you. You reached your free hand to thread through his silky locks and ruffled his hair a bit. 

“We should probably get up now.” 

Sam mumbled something into your neck, but you couldn’t understand a single word he said. 

You huffed an amused laugh through your nose. “Mind speaking up for the rest of the class? 

His head raised slightly from your neck. “Don’t want to.” Sam grumbled out before his head fell back to his previous spot. 

You smiled at Sam’s childlike nature. He could get grumpy when he crashes from a long hunt and doesn’t go on his morning runs. 

“We should. We’re still in our clothes from last night.” Your nose wrinkled at the thought. 

You weren’t a stranger to sleeping in your jeans or your hunting clothes. 

Before even meeting the Winchesters and moving into the bunker when you started to date Sam, you had collapsed into a motel bed (or a hundred) with your jeans on. But considering you were used to having somewhere you considered home now, you more often than not slept in your pajamas, even if you were dead tired from a hunt. 

Sam grunted and tightened his hold on you, shaking his head in your neck. You could only imagine what you and Sam looked like right now—having a 6’4 man completely wrapped around you. You mentally shook your head and managed to pry yourself out of his arms. 

Sam let out a whine of protest as you left the bed but decided that he wasn’t going to get out of bed anytime soon, so he rolled over to his stomach and went back to sleep. 

You saw his breathing even out, and you shook your head. There was a soft smile on your face as you rounded the bed to his side to kiss Sam on the forehead. He unconsciously smiled at the contact. You left his side to grab a change of pajamas from the dresser. You decided a shower was in order before you decided to cook up some lunch for everyone. 

You doubted that Dean was even awake at the moment, but to check, you peeked your head into his room to find your suspicions to be correct. Dean was sprawled out on his bed, but it seemed that he was able to strip down to his boxers and a t-shirt. You closed his door quietly and shuffled off to the shower room. 

Once you were freshly clean and refreshed, the shower having given you some energy, you padded into the empty kitchen and decided to whip up some food for you and the boys. You started the coffee maker and looked in the fridge to see it somewhat stocked, but you knew that you or Dean would have to make a supply run in the coming days. 

You settled on making sandwiches for you and the boys, and when the coffee was done, Dean stalked into the kitchen. It looked like he was moving on autopilot, moving towards the mugs and coffee pot, pouring himself a cup before plopping himself down at the table. Dean hadn’t bothered changing; all he did was shrug on his ‘dead guy’ robe and his hair sticking up in different directions, having been mussed up from sleeping. You placed his just-made sandwich in front of him, and he let out a grunt of thanks before diving into his lunch (breakfast). 

Soon enough, Sam stumbled into the kitchen. He also looked like he rolled out of bed, his flannel wrinkled, but he was able to tame his hair. Sam gave you a grateful smile as he sat at the table, and you placed a cup of coffee and his lunch in front of him. You grabbed your lunch and a water bottle from the fridge. You kissed Sam’s temple before settling next to him at the table, where the three of you ate in comfortable silence. 

A couple of days had passed since you came back from the last hunt, and you made the boys take at least a week off from hunting since you had been going on hunts consistently and deserved a break.  

You and Sam were relaxing in the library, Sam reading some lore book that he had yet to catalog, and you were reading a mystery/thriller book that you had been meaning to read for a while on your Kindle. The two of you were content in each other’s presence, but you noticed that Sam was clearing his throat more often today. 

Sam eventually let out a cough that made you look up at him. 

“Need some water hun?” You ask him with furrowed brows. 

Sam shook his head. “No, I’m fine.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure?”

Sam just nodded at you in response. Your eyes lingered on him for a moment before they flicked downward back to your Kindle. 

The day passed as it usually did, but the next morning was what you didn’t expect. For one, Sam was still in bed when you had woken up. You were confused because Sam was a stickler for his routine in the mornings. You glanced at the clock, the green letters reading 9:14 AM, which was a little later than you would usually get up, but you were still catching up on sleep. 

You decide to leave Sam in bed, figuring that he needs to do the same thing and go to the bathroom to do your morning routine. When you came back into the room to change, Sam was awake, resting on the headboard, but he was sniffling and looked pale. You quickly rushed over to him. 

“You doing alright there babe?” You asked as you made it to his side of the bed and sat next to him. You reached out to feel his forehead, but he leaned away from your touch. 

“Don’t, I’m going to get you sick.” Sam’s voice was raspy and tired. 

“I’ll be fine, I just wanna see if you’re running a fever.” 

Sam didn’t seem to like that idea but relented, leaning towards your hand. The back of your hand hit his forehead for a moment, pursing your lips as you felt his temperature before cupping his cheek, your thumb caressing the beauty mark near his eye. 

“You’re running a little warmer than usual, let me go see if we have a thermometer somewhere. Stay here.” You ordered him. 

Sam huffed but nodded as he sunk back into the bed. You smiled, pinching his cheek before releasing it. 

“Good boy.” You teased as you stood up. 

Sam rolled his eyes at you, a tired smile playing on his lips. 

You quickly made your way to the infirmary, hoping that the Men of Letters had a thermometer that wasn’t made of mercury, but you had an inkling that they didn’t. You passed Dean as you made your way to the infirmary, and he called out to you, seeing your hasty speed. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked when he noticed you were going in the direction of the infirmary. 

“Sam is sick and might be running a fever.” 

Dean’s eyebrows knit in confusion and slight concern, now walking with you, abandoning the direction he was already walking in. “You’re telling Mr. Health nut got sick? How?” 

“Not sure. But I have a feeling it’s because we had been running around on hunts and since we hadn’t been on one for a couple of days, the exhaustion and stress finally hit and this is how his body is reacting.” You explained to Dean your theory as to why Sam got sick, knowing how uncommon it was for them to get sick. 

“I’ll go out and grab some stuff for him. I have to do a supply run anyway.” Dean said as you two left the infirmary, nearly turning the place upside down, trying to find a thermometer that wasn’t made with mercury. You highly doubted that Sam wanted mercury poisoning, and that was the thing that took him out instead of a monster (again). 

You nodded. “I’ll text you a list.” 

Dean patted your shoulder before the two of you parted ways, you in the direction of your shared room with Sam and Dean in the direction of the garage. 

You made it back to your shared room to find Sam dozing off, sniffling, and clearing his throat. Sam’s tired eyes snapped to yours as you moved across the room to sit by his feet at the edge of the bed.  

“How are you feeling?” You asked him gently, letting your hand rest on his ankle. 

“Cold, and I can’t breathe out of my nose.” Sam’s voice was hoarse and sounded congested. 

You sent Sam a sympathetic smile. “Dean’s out getting you some stuff right now, he should be back in a bit.” You gave Sam’s ankle a reassuring squeeze. 

“Did you find a thermometer?” 

You huffed. “Yes, but they were made of mercury and broken. I don’t think you would have appreciated getting mercury poisoning on top of being sick.” 

Sam chuckled before it turned into a coughing fit. You cringed at the sound of his cough and stood up from your place on the bed. 

“I’ll get you some water and tissues.” 

You entertained Sam for about an hour before Dean came back. It looked like he bought the entire drugstore with the two bags full of medicine and other supplies that he thought you might’ve needed in the future. Well, at least the infirmary would be stocked with cough and flu medicine. 

You whipped a quick lunch for Sam that he could stomach before taking the meds. After Sam ate the small lunch you gave him, you made him take some Dayquil and placed a cold washcloth on his forehead. You were expecting for him to make a fuss about taking medicine, having heard the stories that Dean told you of Sam when he was sick when they were younger. 

You let Sam take a nap, knowing the only way that he would get better faster is if he just rested. You were planning on prepping Sam’s dinner while he slept, but as you walked into the kitchen, you found Dean at the stove cooking some veggies in a pot. 

“I was going to do that, you know?” You said as you walked over to Dean and looked at the ingredients for tomato soup scattered on the metal countertop. 

“Well, taking care of Sasquatch over there is a handful and figured you needed all the help you could get.” Dean looked at you with a shrug of his shoulder, but you could hear the undercurrent of fondness over the nonchalant tone that he had. 

“Mmhm. Okay, well do you need any help?” 

“You can start making the grilled cheeses’.” 

A couple of hours later, there was a plate filled with grilled cheese sandwiches (most of which were for Dean) and piping hot tomato soup that was enough for a small army. You tiptoed into the low-lit room of Sam’s bedroom, who was still asleep, with a tray filled with food, water, medicine, and a thermometer (a digital one). You placed the tray on the nightstand on the side Sam was lying on and sat down next to him. 

You looked down at the sleeping man in front and noticed how much younger he looked as he did. The crease in between his eyebrows was smoothed out, and stress wasn’t etched in his features as he breathed as evenly as he could with a congested nose. You shook your head in slight disbelief at how beautiful this man was even when he was sick. 

You took off the now warm towel on Sam’s forehead and gently brushed back the strands of hair that were dampened by the towel. Sam stirred at your ministrations as he groggily blinked the sleep from his eyes. 

“Hey sleepy head.” You said with a gentle smile. You were able to gauge his temperature as your hand brushed against his forehead for a moment before petting the long strands of his brunette locks. 

Sam cracked a smile and your hand fell from his hair as he pulled himself up and rested against the headboard.  He was still dressed in the white t-shirt and flannel pajama pants he went to sleep in. 

“How long was I out for?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat slightly.

You gave him the water bottle from earlier. “Give or take a few hours.” 

Sam took a sip of water, glancing at the alarm clock before capping his water bottle and nodding. He stretched his neck out with a slight groan before his head hit his headboard with a small thump.

“Still tired?” You watched him carefully. 

“Yeah, and I feel like I was tossed around by a demon,” Sam said as he absent-mindedly cracked his knuckles. 

You let out a small chuckle.” I mean, you did about a month ago.” You joked. 

Sam shot you a glare, but it had no heat behind it as he was still looking at you through tired eyes. “Haha, very funny.” He said dryly. 

You sent him a smirk. “Thank you, I’ll be here all night.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

You pointed a stern finger at him. “Hey, you should be nicer to the person who’s taking care of your sick ass or I’ll make sure you get mercury poisoning.”

Sam rolled his eyes at your empty threat. “I could take care of myself.” 

You raised an unconvinced eyebrow at him, your mind immediately flicking back to all of the times you had to pry him away from researching in the library to sleep. 

You hummed unconvincingly. “Sure you could big boy.” You quipped before reaching for the tray on the nightstand and placed it above his lap. The tray had legs, so it didn’t have to rest precariously on his lap. 

“Enjoy dinner, Dean and I made it.” You smiled at him before petting his head. 

Sam looked down at the tomato soup and grilled cheese before him. He couldn’t really smell it, but it looked delicious, and he felt his stomach rumble with hunger. 

“Thank you.” Sam’s tone filled with sincerity. 

“S’no problem love.” You winked at him before getting up from the bed. 

You pointed down at the medicine and the thermometer. “I’ll take your temp after you eat, then you’ll shower, and then take your meds.” You instructed Sam as he began to slurp at the soup. 

Sam nodded obediently. “Have you eaten yet?”   

“Not yet.” 

“Can you eat here with me?” 

You smiled at Sam. “Yeah, let me grab my food.” 

After you and Sam ate, you took his temperature, which was only at 100 degrees. You managed to get Sam out of bed and into the shower room, where you helped him wash off. He was practically putty in your hands as you washed his hair with the lukewarm water of the shower (he complained of wanting a hot shower, but you knew better than having him shower in hot or cold water when he had a fever). 

Once he was clean, he all but stumbled back into the room and collapsed in the bed. Sam was about to fall asleep, but you made him take some medicine before he got under the covers and got swept under by the drug-induced sleep. 

You were about to leave Sam’s side to sleep in your old room before you moved into Sam’s room when you felt a tug at your shirt, seeing Sam’s sleepy pout on his face. 

“Yes, Sam?” 

“Stay.” 

“Thought you didn’t want me to get sick.” You teased softly, grabbing his hand from your shirt. 

That was a bad idea because he grabbed you with strength that you didn’t expect from a drowsy Sam and pulled you into him on the bed, a yelp escaping your mouth. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist and nuzzled into your neck. 

“Don’t care, need you.” He mumbled into your neck, his breath hitting your collarbone as you were chest to chest. 

You huffed a small laugh through your nose, threading your hands through his long hair, uncaring of the consequences. “You won’t be saying that when I get sick and blame you for it.” 

Sam didn’t respond to you, his breathing evening out before you even said your last word. You shook your head, a knowing smile on your face before you eventually fell asleep yourself. 

A week later, Sam took on the caretaker role, and you guys weren’t able to go on a hunt for another two weeks until you felt better. 

[dianawinchester03]

The Beginning of Their Downfall: A Supernatural Series Rewrite Prequel Masterlist by @dianawinchester03

This book is dedicated to the childhood of Sam and Dean Winchester along with their best friend Y/N L/N. Both families lost their matriarch to devastating house fires. Sam and Y/N were just 6 months old at the times, while a 4 year old Dean witnessed not only one, but all two of his closest relatives diminish to nothing but ash.

The events in this books take place after the fires with John Winchester and F/N L/N struggling to raise their three kids meanwhile restarting the family business of which F/N had to reveal to John the dangers of the world, having been a hunter himself along with his wife, who was born from a lineage of psychics.

Prequel to The Old Testament Series: A Supernatural Series Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Aftermath

First Kiss?

Makeover

Period.

Juvenile Delinquent

Juvenile Detention Center

Behind Bars….Again

Haircut

Legally Drunk

Senior Prom

The Rebel

The Runaway

Authors Note: I promise more will be coming soon, this is just the only few I’ve finished

Updates on this will be slower because I’m terrible at multitasking but in time I will finish it, promise.

Xoxo

[ghomsts]

Supernatural "brothers story arch swap" au.

Sam the righteous man

Dean the boy with the demon blood

Sam is still the baby boy that goes to college

Dean still stays back home, finding Sam because dad has been missing for a couple of days

Consequences from this change:

John either has a different plan for dealing with Dean + the demon blood thing or he at least thought of killing him if he had to while sam was at college. Sick and twisted.

John still has all those fucked up issues with Sam because Azazel just lied about which kid was doing the demon blood thing

Castiel works with Sam from the get go. etc. Etc. You'd think this would make it more sastiel but it means destiel gets the "handshake scene" so it's anyone's game honestly.

Jess lives past episode one because she never would've been used against Sam. BUT they also may not have gotten together because Brady wouldn't have been a demon putting that piece into place. i could put a Sambrady agenda here, if I wanted to.

I think if Dean had any of the fucked up nuanced arcs Sam had paralleling Cas destielies would be frothing at the mouth harder. Maybe.

Dean is a more scared individual due to the implications. (HE'S the one verging on being a monster from demon blood addiction.) in my humble opinion Sam would defend Dean easier I think. A noticable amount easier. (None of Dean's brand of daddy issues lol, just his own defiant ones.)

Boy King Dean 🤔

Dean having a souless!dean arc instead of Sam???!!! can anyone here me? it's so dark in here.

[scarletqueenx]

chapter nine - afterglow

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean and you had dated for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for. You.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

Warnings: light smut

series masterlist

After discovering that Calum had lied about placing explosives around the house to get Maddie and Peter out of their hiding place, the nerves in Maddie and the two Winchester brothers calmed down a bit.

Yet the three were still worried about the condition of the two Holloway siblings, who after an hour since the burst of light still hadn't woken up.

"Any idea where she got that knife?" Dean asked as he entered the kitchen, where his brother had settled after grabbing several of Henry's books to check out the weapon.

"No. Nothing." Sam replied, examining the knife. "The only thing we've seen that can kill a demon so far is the Colt and Ruby's knife. But this one doesn't look like hers."

"Do you know where Laurel Holloway got this knife?" Dean turned to Maddie as she entered the kitchen to throw the shards of broken glass from the living room window.

"It wasn't until five years ago, when my mother died that I learned of the supernatural. That night, before those two demons, Ophelia and Calum showed up at our house to kill her, she told me that she had that book and knife in her safe and quickly explained to me who they belonged to. The rest of the things I know, like what works against a demon, Henry explained to me." Maddie explained.

"Then we have nothing until he comes back." Sam sighed, looking at his brother.

"Yeah. And he's not answering his calls." Dean said.

"We should burn that guy's remains."

Dean nodded.

"Do you have to burn him?" Maddie looked at them with confusion.

"Henry didn't tell you about ghosts?" Dean raised his eyebrows. Maddie stayed silence. "Salt and burn, so the spirits don't get trapped and can rest. Plus, less evidence."

"Okay." She sighed. "Do what you have to do. You guys are the experts. I'll go check on them."

"If they wake up or Henry shows up or calls, you send us a message immediately." Dean ordered. "We'll be back in an hour at the most."

"Okay." Maddie nodded, trying to stay calm. But Sam couldn't help but notice her uneasiness and the hesitant tone in her voice, so he turned to his brother.

"Get the house ready so no more demons come back in." Sam spoke.

"Okay." Dean sighed before leaving the kitchen.

Maddie watched him in relief, turning towards Sam as she noticed his gaze on her.

"We'll get some food." He said then. "Any requests?"

"Alcohol?" Her answer sounded more like a question, but the request was completely serious. Sam smiled amused.

"Beer or something stronger?"

"I don't care." Maddie admitted with a shrug.

"All right."

"Oh, and... You don't need to buy food. The fridge is full, I can cook something."

"Oh, we don't want to bother..."

"It's no bother." She assured, interrupting him. "Cooking would do some good to me right now for distraction."

"Okay." Sam accepted then, giving her a slight reassuring smile that Maddie didn't hesitate to return.

"The house is secure." Dean announced, walking back into the kitchen, gaining their attention.

"Good, let's go." Sam declared, grabbing his jacket. "Oh, if by any chance any demons come, use the knife." He informed Maddie before leaving the kitchen. The girl sighed, resting her gaze on the weapon resting on the counter, nodding slightly at his words.

When the Winchester brothers got back to the Holloway house, the place seemed much more welcoming. The smell of freshly cooked food was the first thing they noticed, as well as the radical change in temperature compared to the cold air of that particular evening.

Still the house was particularly quiet and the lack of life in it was noticeable. The fact that Peter wasn't running through the halls with his toy guns or reading a comic book on the stairs was very strange. Trying to forget that uncomfortable feeling, Dean and Sam headed for the kitchen, where they found Maddie sitting, reading a lore book with the knife next to her.

"Hey, smells good." Dean admitted, depositing a bag on the island counter. Maddie looked up at him, giving him a slight smile.

"Thanks. I made lasagna. I hope you like it."

"We brought ice cream and pie." Sam announced, taking off his jacket.

"The pie is mine." Dean warned them, earning an amused smile from Maddie.

"Oh, that's okay. I'm not really that hungry." Maddie shrugged.

"First time seeing a body and fighting a demon?" Dean raised his eyebrows, pulling a bottle of beer from the pack he and Sam had just bought.

"The latter, yes, the former... It's complicated." She answered, looking back at the book in front of her.

The two brothers shared a look, but decided to drop the subject when they noticed that it didn't seem to be a very pleasant one for Maddie.

"Any news?" Dean decided to change the subject, taking a swig of the beer in his hand.

Maddie shook her head. "No. They're still asleep. And no word from Henry."

Dean sighed in disappointment.

"What's the plan now?" Maddie looked at them with expectation.

"To wait." Sam answered. "Maybe call Bobby tomorrow."

"Yeah." Dean nodded as he served a plate of food for his brother and another for himself.

"You should get some sleep." Sam turned back to Maddie. "Dean and I will take shifts watching in case Henry shows up or that demon comes back."

Maddie's gaze traveled from Sam to Dean and back to Sam. "Are you sure?" She asked. "I mean... I can take a shift even if I'm not a hunter."

"Don't worry. We'll take care of it." He assured her.

"Okay." She sighed, getting to her feet. "I don't think I'll get much sleep, though. Enjoy the dinner."

"Thanks." Sam gave her a slight smile while Dean just nodded with his mouth full of food.

Maddie smiled back at them, hesitantly leaving the kitchen. Part of her wasn't convinced she could trust them, because she didn't really know them. But she had to remember that those two boys were your friends, skilled hunters and certainly far more capable than she was of protecting the house that night. But letting others protect her had never been Maddie's style. As an only child, she was used to protecting herself. Though that was against human people, not monsters and demons.

Sitting in the living room, the Winchester brothers ate a portion of Maddie's homemade lasagna while watching the news on TV. Outside, the rain had finally started to ease after three hours where it hadn't stopped pouring.

"I'm going upstairs to eat the pie." Dean announced after finishing his plate, getting up from the couch and grabbing his and his brother's plate. "I'll check on them. You should sleep. I'll take the first shift."

"You sure?" Sam looked up at him with hesitation.

"Yeah. I'm not really that tired anyway." Dean answered, walking to the kitchen.

"All right." Sam accepted, turning off the TV and standing up of the couch. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Dean answered him from the kitchen, turning on the tap to start cleaning the dishes.

After a few minutes, Dean was so deep in thought as he cleared the kitchen that he barely noticed the presence of another person in the room until one of the floorboards creaked.

He then turned his head quickly toward the sound, meeting your figure, dressed still in your wet clothes, with two dark circles under your eyes and wet hair falling out of your bun. Your eyes had a confused look in them as you saw him there, but before you could speak, Dean stood in front of you, holding you by the arms.

"Sweetheart. Are you all right?" He looked you up and down with concern.

"Dean? What... what are you doing here?" You asked, raising your gaze to meet his. "What happened?"

Dean was about to explain everything, but you interrupted him quickly.

"Oh, my God. Peter." You exclaimed, ready to go back upstairs, but Dean held you tightly, keeping you in place.

"It's okay, it's okay. Take it easy." He spoke, looking into you eyes. "Peter's okay. He's in his room."

"And Maddie?"

"Sleeping in the guest room with Sammy."

You sighed with relief, your breathing slowly calming as you learned that everyone was okay.

"She... Ophelia was here."

"Yeah. She was." He nodded. "And she left when you destroyed that book and killed her friend. Pretty badass, by the way." Dean smiled with amusement, but this smile disappeared as soon as he noticed that you were still disoriented and didn't smile back at him.

"The book?" You asked.

"Turned to ashes." He replied, receiving a sigh of relief in response.

As the silence settled between the two of you, you felt the grip of Dean's hands on your arms getting looser and more delicate with every second. His thumbs stroked you over the fabric of the black t-shirt you were wearing, sending a shiver down your spine. As if he could feel that same shiver himself, Dean seemed to react then, taking a step back.

"Uh... are you hungry?" He asked, clearing his throat nervously. "Maddie prepared lasagna. And Sammy and I got ice cream. There's pie too." His eyes traveled to the kitchen island, avoiding the your gaze.

"Pie?" You tilted your head and raised your eyebrows with amusement. "You're going to share your pie with me?"

"Well, I didn't fight a demon today." He shrugged, connecting your gazes once again. "But don't take too long to decide or I'll take back my offer."

With a smile playing across your lips, you wrapped your arms around your body as you felt a blast of cold wind hit your wet clothes.

"I think I should take a shower." You admitted.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Dean sighed.

"Maybe when I come back you could have a plate of warm lasagna prepared for me." You walked closer to him with a smile painted on you lips.

Looking down at you, Dean nodded slightly, fighting the urge to hold your cheeks and kiss you right then and there.

Watching you fight that demon to protect your little brother, wearing those tight jeans and that black t-shirt with your damp hair and the fierce look in your eyes was perhaps the hottest he'd ever seen you.

"You bet." He whispered, smiling back at you.

What Dean didn't know was that you were also fighting your own urge to kiss him. Maybe if either of you weren't so dumb and used the courage you usually had to kill and face monsters you'd already be kissing. But instead, you went back up to you room to take a hot shower while Dean prepared dinner for Peter and you. The boy was still asleep when Dean went upstairs to check on him, but considering you had already woken up, he hoped Peter would soon follow.

"You didn't answer my question by the way."

You leaned against your doorway as you untangled your hair. Dean turned to you, noticing how you had changed out of your wet clothes into gray sweatpants and a t-shirt of your favorite band. You still looked almost as good as before, if not better.

"Why are you here?"

"Peter called me." Dean answered. "He didn't say much, but I could tell something was wrong. Plus, you weren't answering."

You nodded slightly, taking in his words.

"Thank you. For coming to his aid."

"Always." He assured. "I know how important Peter is to you. Like Sam is to me."

Your eyes traveled to the floor at his response, feeling frustrated and saddened by the situation you were in.

"I shouldn't have destroyed the book." You complained. "Maybe I could have made a deal to save you, I don't know, maybe..."

"Hey, hey." Dean walked over to you, holding your cheeks to make sure you looked him in the eyes and listened to him. "You saved Peter and Maddie's life. You took away something the demon wanted. Don't worry about me."

"That's impossible, Dean." You assured. "I'll always worry about you. I worry about everyone. It's my fatal flaw."

"Wrong, your fatal flaw is your unbearable stubbornness." He smiled with amusement, caressing your cheeks.

"Look who's talking." You smiled back at him as your eyes sparkled with a feeling Dean had never seen in them and didn't know how to name it either.

It seemed like forever since the two of you had been this close to each other. And yet it seemed as if you had never been. Since you had reconnected, your relationship seemed to have started completely anew. As if you were two strangers.

Your courage seemed to grow at that intimate moment, as you both began to lean toward each other, hoping to listen to your urges to press your lips together in a kiss. But, just like in the movies, something had to interrupt you.

Peter's voice calling out your name made you pull away from each other and turn your gazes towards the door of the boy's room. There he stood, looking at you in confusion.

"Hey, buddy, are you okay?" You ran to kneel in front of him, holding both sides of his face to look at him more closely. Peter nodded, lifting his gaze to Dean.

"You actually came." He observed, almost not believing that the hunter had come to his aid.

"Of course." Dean answered. "You're a pain in the ass, kid, but I don't want you dead."

"The feeling's not mutual." Peter replied.

"Peter." You scolded him.

"I was just joking." He defended himself. You looked back at him with disbelief. "I was."

"It's fine." Dean assured as he noticed your apologetic look. "Dinner's on the table, by the way. I've seen you have quite a movie collection, why don't you pick one and have dinner with your sister? There's ice cream." He smiled towards Peter, who looked at him hesitantly for a few seconds before nodding.

"Sounds good."

"Great. I'll wait for you downstairs." Dean said, clapping his hands before walking off down the hallway, leaving them alone.

You let out a sigh as you watched him disappear down the stairs, feeling an aching hole in your chest at the absence of his presence. Peter narrowed his eyes, noticing the change in you.

"You can go with him. I'm gonna go take a shower." His voice voice snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to reality.

"Oh, no. No. I'll wait for you."

"You can do that downstairs. I'm fine." He assured.

"You sure you are?" You looked at him with concern. "Peter, I know what it's like to face a demon for the first time. Or any monster for that matter. You can talk to me."

"I know I can. But seriously, I'm fine. I knew what I had to do."

"It doesn't matter. Knowing the theory doesn't compare to the real thing. I just..."

"I'm fine." He interrupted.

Although his statement seemed firm and sincere, you could see right through him. Peter was trying to convince himself and you that everything was fine when it simply wasn't. And you both knew it, for since you had opened your eyes something in the two of you felt completely different. Yet neither of you could put your finger on what.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

After having dinner while watching Jurassic Park, one of Peter's comfort movies, you and him ended up falling asleep on the couch. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Dean put a blanket over you and busied himself picking up and washing the dishes. When he finished, he decided to sit on the couch next to you to watch the end of the movie while he ate the pie.

And that's how Sam found the three of you when he went downstairs in the middle of the night to do his watching shift. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, the young Winchester could make out the sleeping figure of his brother, Peter and you. Not wanting to wake you, he turned off the television, took a look around the lower floor and went back upstairs to the guest room, where Maddie was sleeping peacefully.

He stayed awake for a couple more hours, doing research on his computer before going back to his bed to get a little more sleep before sunrise.

The following morning, Peter was the first one up and soon followed by Sam and Maddie. The boy was reading a comic book while drinking a juice when they both entered the kitchen.

"Hey, kiddo, how did you sleep?" Maddie asked, ruffling his hair.

"Pretty good, actually." He admitted, looking up at her. "We're out of coffee and cookies, by the way."

"Well, we'll have to go shopping, then, right?" She said, receiving an enthusiastic nod from him. Peter wouldn't say it out loud, but he was anxious to get out of his house. Being there inevitably reminded him of the previous night's events and he felt somewhat trapped.

"We can take Dean's car." Sam suggested, grabbing the car keys from the counter. "I'll drive."

"Yeah, we should let them sleep." Admitted Maddie, glancing over at the living room, where Dean snd you still lay on the two comfy couches. Sam nodded in agreement with her, it was rare for his brother to sleep that much and he certainly needed it.

Still, it was only a few minutes after they left that Dean awoke to find a note on the coffee table beside him. A grunt left his lips as he read that there was no coffee left and that he would have to wait for his brother, Maddie and Peter to return before he could have what was the most important drink of the day for him.

"They left five minutes ago, it'll take them a while to get back." You spoke from the other couch. Dean turned to you, surprised to find you awake. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling while one of your hands fiddled with the necklace around your neck.

"How long have you been awake?" He asked.

You sighed, rising to a sitting position.

"Since Peter got up. I was comfortable so I pretended to be asleep." You shrugged.

A small smile tugged at Dean's lips at your response.

"Did you sleep well?" You asked.

"Yeah." He nodded. "This couch is very comfortable."

"I know. I've lost count of how many times Peter and I fell asleep here while watching movies." You smiled, standing up.

"Did you sleep well?" Dean asked, following your steps towards the stairs.

"Yes, I've already told you that the couch is very comfortable-"

"I'm not talking about that." Dean interrupted you, shaking his head.

You sighed, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the stairs before turning on your heels to look at him.

"Nightmares aren't new to me, and I actually didn't have that many tonight. Having Peter by my side helped a lot." You explained.

Dean nodded silently.

After that you continued on your way upstairs, splitting up in the hallway as you went into your room and Dean into the guest room so he could take a shower. You intended to change your clothes, but as you went into your room the feelings overwhelmed you, paralyzing you for what seemed like hours but had only been minutes.

"Hey. Sweetheart." Dean watched you from the doorway, confused and concerned to see you still in your pijamas while he had already showered and changed clothes. His voice seemed to bring you back to reality, as you slowly turned toward him, catching the loving gleam in his green eyes. "Are you all right?"

Blinking several times, you nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You assured him, turning back to your closet.

Dean sighed, watching carefully as you reached for a fresh set of clothes.

"You know what. No. I'm actually not fine." You snapped, turning back to him. "I'm tired. A demon killed my mother and a demon was going to kill my brother last night. It's like they have something against me, you know? And I didn't do anything. I was just a kid when she died. And if that wasn't enough, they're going to take you too." Your eyes filled with tears, your voice broke and your breathing became rapid. "Just when I was starting to feel like you and I... They're going to take you away from me again. And I don't know what to do."

Dean didn't know what to say. He wanted to comfort you, to tell you that everything was going to be all right, that your brother would be safe, that he would be safe. But he couldn't. He could tell you that you would get over him leaving, you would get on with your life. Dean really thought so. But for you these last few months had been if possible even more important to you than the time you two had dated years ago. It was as if a different connection had appeared between the two of you. Dean felt it too. As if something supernatural drew him to you.

Something supernatural that made him walk straight to you, hold your cheeks and place his lips against yours in a breathtaking kiss. Passionate and delicate at the same time. Full of feelings that none could name or describe. Magical even.

His lips felt so familiar that it hurt you. You let yourself sink into his embrace as your heartbeat accelerated like never before. But in that instant Dean seemed to realize what he was doing so he stopped the kiss immediately, taking a step back.

"I'm sorry, are you sure you-" Dean whispered. But before he could finish the sentence you kissed him again, this time in a more heated way.

Your breaths mingled passionately in your mouths. Your hands grabbed his clothes and pulled him closer as you began to step backwards, taking him with you. Dean let himself go until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Moving his hands down to your waist, Dean began to lay you down on the mattress, hovering over you without breaking the kiss, making you feel a rush of heat surge through your body. His tongue slid over your bottom lip, gently asking you to open your mouth for him. You didn't hesitate to do it, letting your tongues meet as your hands caressed the muscles of his arms all the way up to his well-shaped shoulders and back.

His hands moved lower and lower, eventually slipping under the hem of your shirt and gliding along the smooth skin of your side, making you moan softly as you surrendered further to the intoxicating feeling of being touched by him. You arched your back against him, your body seeking out more of his touch as your lips and tongues moved in perfect unison. He quickly responded by leaving a trail of hot kisses down your neck with a tender possessiveness that made your breath catch in your throat. You tangled your fingers into his hair as you pulled him closer.

As he continued to explore every inch of you, his left hand slowly moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lovingly over your bottom lip. The combination of tenderness and heat was a heady mix, causing you to melt into him even more.

You were the first to feel the eagerness to make the layers of clothing separating you disappear, your hands tugging at Dean's shirt. He couldn't help but smile against your lips at this, pulling away slightly to get rid of the piece of clothing himself. You couldn't resist the temptation of his exposed skin. With trembling hands, you slowly traced your fingers along his muscular chest. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, echoing your own.

At the same time, his hands began to roam over your body, tracing intricate patterns on your skin as he worshipped every inch of you. He lifted your shirt, his fingers teasing the hem of your bra, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You gasped at his touch, your breath coming in shallow pants as you longed for more. As his lips found yours once more, you met him eagerly, your arms encircling his neck and pulling him closer. Dean's hands moved to your back, unhooking your bra with a skillful flick, your lips never breaking contact. He gently caressed you, his touch both soothing and arousing.

You returned his kisses with fervor, clinging to him as if he was the very air you needed to breathe. It was a moment of pure bliss and passion that you never wanted to end.

Overwhelmed by the sensations, the two of you separated slightly, your breaths quickening as your eyes opened to meet each other's. A faint smile tugged at both your lips before meeting once again. You felt a wave of heat wash over your skin as Dean's mouth crashed against your own, making the world around you fade away. His lips were soft, yet urgent and eager, moving against your almost as if he was searching for something deeper within you.

He caressed you face with a tender touch, savoring every moment. You felt as if time stopped. Dean had a way of making you feel safe and loved, and you couldn't help but melt into him, your lips dancing with his in perfect harmony. Your bodies pressed even closer together, making you feel a little overwhelmed by the intensity of you connection, your body responding to his in every way.

Dean's hands found their way down to your sweatpants, his fingertips teasing the waistband. You eagerly helped him remove your remaining clothing, wanting nothing more than to feel him everywhere.

You were a tangle of limbs and kisses, exploring each other's bodies with a sense of urgency and need. The room was filled with the sounds of your breathing and the soft rustling of your clothes as you tossed them aside, your bodies now fully exposed to each other. Dean's lips traced a path along your collarbone, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin. Your fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close, as you surrendered entirely to the overwhelming sensations he was awakening within you. Every touch, every breath, was a step closer to that edge you so desperately craved.

Your hands moved to Dean's abdomen, your fingertips tracing of his muscles. You could feel his anticipation, the way he quivered under your fingers. You arched towards him, your body craving more of his touch, the overwhelming desire pooling between your legs, leaving you aching for him to claim you completely.

Dean's hand brushed against the most intimate part of you, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden contact. The heat from his fingers seemed to burn through you, igniting a fire that spread throughout your entire body. Your entire being was consumed by desire, your mind cloudy with pleasure as he continued to explore you.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, your bodies met, becoming one. You felt the world spin at the overwhelming sensation of feeling him inside you. Your eyes rolled up into your head with each thrust. Dean watched you with care and appreciation as he felt the same desire consume him.

Your bodies moved against each other effortlessly, as if they fit together like pieces of a puzzle. You gripped his shoulders, trying to ground yourself amidst the flood of sensations overwhelming you. As he took control, you gave in to him completely, your body responding to every touch with a shiver of anticipation. It was a moment of complete and all-encompassing surrender, where nothing else mattered except for the two of you and the way you moved together.

Dean's hands moved down your waist to your hips, where he firmly held you against him as he captured your lower lip between his teeth. A low moan escape your lips at that, his tongue grazing yours as he devoured you with a hunger that matched your own. You couldn't remember a time when you had felt more alive and sad at the same time, because you new this wasn't going to last. Dean would soon be gone. But you wanted to forget that fact for a moment, and for every moment you'll share together after this.

His touch was like a drug, one you had grown utterly addicted to. Dean's mouth moved to your ear, whispering sweet nothings in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down your spine. It was as if he knew exactly how to play your body, and he kinda did.

You couldn't get enough of him, your hands roaming over his body, trying to memorize every dip and curve. Dean's fingers traced lightly over your skin as if seeking to memorize every inch of you. You felt as if you were floating on a cloud, you body reacting to his touch with an almost primal hunger. Each touch sent fire racing through your veins, and you could feel the heat pooling in your core, aching for release. You longed to pull him even closer, to feel every part of him pressed against yours.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your hearts beating as one, as the two of you lost yourselves in the all-consuming fire between you. You arched your back, a soft moan escaping your lips, as he expertly guided you towards that peak, his touch sending you reeling. Your breath came in short gasps, as he led you closer and closer to the release.

In a final thrust, the waves of pleasure crashed over you in a overwhelming force. Your body shuddered, your hands gripping the sheets as you cried out his name, surrendering to the intense sensation that had taken over your entire being. Dean held you through your shared release, his lips finding yours in a tender yet passionate kiss.

Your bodies shuddered together in the aftermath, your breaths mingling as you lay entwined. In that moment, you two existed in a world completely separate from everything else, wrapped up in each other, consumed by the intensity of what you had experienced together.

The room fell silent, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of the sheets and your synchronized breaths. The air was heavy with a mix of passion and contentment, the remnants of your lovemaking lingering like a sweet perfume. You traced your fingers along Dean's back, the sensation grounding you and reminding you both that this wasn't just a fleeting moment of passion, but a connection that ran deep and genuine.

In the quiet stillness that followed your intimate encounter, Dean brushed a few sweaty locks of hair away from your face, his touch soft and soothing as a gentle, lovesick smile played at his lips as he looked deep into your eyes.

"That was incredible." He whispered softly, his voice filled with awe. He caressed your cheek gently, his touch sending sparks of electricity through you.

You couldn't find the words to express the intensity of what you were feeling, so you simply nodded, a wide smile spreading across your face.

"It was." You whispered back, your voice filled with awe and contentment. You felt as if you could stay there forever. Just being in his arms, you knew you were exactly where you belonged.

You lay there for a while, with your bodies entwined together, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion. You rested your head against Dean's chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. He played with your hair gently, his touch both calming and thrilling at the same time. It was a moment of perfect peace and happiness, a connection that seemed timeless and unbreakable. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated love that made you feel as if anything was possible, as long as the two of you were together. Even though you new that wasn't the truth. It was a deep, soulful connection that transcended anything you had experienced before.

As you lingered in the embrace, Dean gently stroked your hair and pressed tender kisses against your temple. He held you tightly yet tenderly, his touch conveying comfort, stability, and security. You felt a sense of tranquillity wash over you, knowing that you were cherished and beloved in a way you had never experienced before. Even if Dean never said it out loud.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

When Sam, Maddie and Peter came back, Dean and you tried to act as if nothing had happened or changed between you. After your passionate encounter and spending a silent, quiet time entwined between the sheets of your bed, words seemed useless in the wake of what had been such a deep connection. In a slightly stupid way, you were both scared to talk about the feelings it had brought up in you and the consequences that came with them.

Still, it was inevitable for Sam to notice something different after spending months by your side. The longing glances across the room, the comfort in feeling each other's touch, the magnetism your bodies seemed to have to always end up next to one another despite starting the conversations on opposite sides of a room. But even so, Sam decided not to say anything. Especially since everyone's heads were now on more important topics.

Topics that you all decided to avoid until Henry showed up at the house that evening. That was your sign to share the information you all had, about the knife, the book and the demons that had attacked you last night.

After hearing everything that had happened, Henry decided to be honest with Maddie and the Winchester brothers about who Ophelia was. A witch, now demon, who had helped Laurel's ancestor to have children at the time of the Salem trials and who had been burned at those same trials. He also explain that Laurel's bloodline was full of witches, due to the potion with which Ophelia had gotten her ancestor to have a daughter. And that the search for that same magic and book was what had led to Laurel and Christine's summer camp attack when they were teens, Laurel's deal to get her friend back and the death of both of them.

But now that the book was destroyed, you all came to the conclusion that this power in your family's blood no longer existed and that Peter and you had no magic, you were just human.

Also, thanks to Henry's information, you now knew that the knife with which you had killed Calum had been a weapon that your mother had created with her own powers, unique and special for killing demons.

"So you took him back to the mental institution?" You asked once your father and you enter his office.

"The demon left his body after screaming in pain and Carter fell to the ground unconscious." He explained.

"He has already broken out of there once."

"I had nowhere else to take him so I could come home. It was my only option. And if he's smart and doesn't want the demons to use his body again, he'll stay there."

You nodded slightly, watching your father closely as you sensed there were still things he was keeping from you.

"So... everything is over?" You asked after a few moments. "They only wanted that book and us so Ophelia could regain her power and become the queen of hell?"

"Basically." Henry nodded.

"And by destroying it, the power went with the book?"

"That's right. So, now I don't think it's necessary for you to go after them."

"What do you mean?" You frowned.

"Well, Ophelia wanted to overthrow the current leader of Hell, surely the demons working for him are now after her and Dorian and that's why they've run away." Henry pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." You nodded slightly. "Uh... Dean and Sam are going to go on a hunt by themselves. I'll stay here for those days and then rejoin them."

"Okay. It's good to have you home, honey."

"Yeah, you too, I guess." You sighed with a hint of irritation. Henry could sense your anger towards him. After the events of the past month he couldn't blame you, so he let you leave his office without another word.

The fact that everything that had started at that summer camp with your mother and Christine had apparently ended the night before didn't make your desire to avenge your mother's death go away. And your determination to save Dean from the fate that awaited him had only intensified after your intimate encounter of that morning. The depth of your connection and the way you had shared yourselves with each other filled you  with an even deeper resolve. You knew that you could never go back to the way things were before.

AN: 🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃 Looking forward to reading your reactions to this chapter.

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @lmhf1 @mochminnie @helo1281917 @barnes70stark

If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment

[s0urw00lf]

Twisted luck

Prolouge

Sam winchester x fem!reader

Series masterlist

Supernatural masterlist

An: i started this because there’s a huge drought for Sam Winchester x reader rewrites and someone had to be the one to step up so here’s the prologue

Prologue

Your fate had been decided for you from the moment you were born. Six months into your life your father had burned to death on the ceiling of your home while checking on you in the middle of the night. From there she met a man named John and his two sons who had experienced the same situation with his youngest.

Your mom had been introduced to the world of hunting through John and like him became obsessed with the thought of killing the thing that killed her husband. Your mother was angry and vengeful. She’d never say anything to you but you knew she blamed you. She trained you like a mad woman, there wasn’t a weapon you could get your hands on that you didn’t know how to use with 100% accuracy. John hadn’t trained his sons as hard as your mother trained you, but he would verbally scold them unlike your mother who would push you harder during training.

As you grew, Dean started to become somewhat of a shield for you once he realized how harsh your mother was. He’d take responsibility for you and Sam's mishaps and when he couldn’t he’d try to lessen the blow for both of you any way he could. When you and Sam were old enough you realized how alike he and you were. You became closer and eventually started dating, not that your parents really cared but dean did. He was you guy’s biggest supporter.

Then Sam decided to leave for college and you were happy for him. Sam begged you to go but the look your mother gave you told you not to move a muscle, Sam understood and you tried to keep up with each other but with you going on constant hunts and Sam keeping up with school it was impossible so you both decided it was best for each other to split.

Eventually you left hunting as well, still making an effort to keep up with dean, your mom, john, and even Sam at times. But you wanted a chance at a normal life, as normal as you could be. You got a job and eventually a boyfriend and you couldn’t have been happier. Until your mother and john stopped replying completely.

[lachelledavies-winchester]

" Dean, it's not porn. That's what makes sex so good, too. "

He looked at her in wonder at that lightness and lingered over every inch of her body. 

" Shall we change the game? " she asked as she stood up with feline stride. " Tell me what you like. "

Dean watched her in silence; she looked tremendously sexy with her blouse open and her boobs breezing down, between which the flower pendant descended. She had a few mini tattoos here and there and a couple of small scars that made her body even more intriguing and attractive.

" I wouldn't want to traumatize you. " he said to set the tone and test her again.

" Sorry, I forgot that you are older than me. " she teased him by pulling him toward her to reach the couch. " Do you see me as a schoolgirl? Do you think I can't chat like that too? Are you of those who like to be called sir? Or daddy?"

She smiled again when she saw him biting his lips, certain that she had discovered a kink in him at the first stroke. She knelt down this time and began to lick his member, showing him how much of a schoolgirl there really was in her; she neglected no part of it, alternating the pace from slow to fast and her hands to her mouth, combining them to stimulate his balls from time to time as well.

" You are so hard. You're making me wet again. " she moaned between lunges, making him gasp with that deep cavernous voice, not realizing the growth in the intensity of her own moans until she stopped to look at him and smile at him again with a look that communicated that she was restraining herself, but still with that lightness and complicity that he adored.

" You're really getting into trouble. "

" Then I can't wait to find out what my punishment will be. " she answered him as she calmly walked to her suitcase and pulled a condom out of a clutch.

" You are so sexy. " Dean remarked, at that moment completely captivated by her independence, by her being very different from the women he usually dated.

" I've been thinking all week about you fucking me in every place we've been, in every possible position ... in every possible hole. " she knew when to tread lightly to keep the desire from wavering, and this time she did so as she helped him insert the condom, alternating between thrusting phrases and twirling her tongue over the head as with obvious difficulty he completed the task.

" Oh baby, you're playing with fire. "

" What now? "

" Now daddy will teach you not to instigate such a man this way. "

Here the third chapter https://archiveofourown.org/works/50832031/chapters/141889423#workskin

[markpellegrinoimagines]

Soulmate V.2

Request: Could you do a soulmate with lucifer, He kidnaps her and she can see his wings.

Tw: Wing!kink, Smut, Kidnapping, Rough!Foreplay

-

Sam and Dean were always telling her that she was too bold. Unafraid of the consequences as she stared down adversaries wether they were demons, Or Angel's. It's most likely why she'd ended up in her current situation. Y/n had been trailing a demon for days now, the black eyed bastard was the best lead she had for tracking down an important artifact. She'd been stopped for the night, taking a much needed rest after days of stalking her prey.

That's when the dammed thing struck. She was fresh from a shower with a towel wrapped tightly around her form when pain exploded across the back of her head and the sight of her meager room went black, with her body hitting the floor with a loud thump.

Y/n felt feeling returning to her limbs, and her senses slowly slipped back into awareness. The first thing to hit her was the smell. It was musty, like old mildew and dust. The next was sound. Aged creaking of settling rafters and the squeak of old springs when she shifts against the uncomfortable surface she was laid upon.

Slowly and very carefully, Y/n pushed herself up until she could look around through hazy vision at what appeared to be an abandoned studio apartment. She was laid out in a dust covered bed and could feel the grit of it scraping across her skin. Not far from the bed was a living area with worn down couches and a coffee table with several layers of dust across its surface.

A chill sent shivers racing up and down her spine, and she snapped her gaze down. The damp towel shed been wrapped in after her shower was slipping loose, revealing bare skin, and she hurriedly pulled it tight, covering her extremities.

She slipped her legs over the edge of the bed and slowly ended up into her feet. The back of her skull throbbed with each movement, and the floor boards creaked under her feet. Couldn't the demon have waited until she at least had some clothes on?

There wasn't a single article of fabric she could use to cover herself. The place was picked clean, and she wasn't willing to come in contact with those bed sheets any longer than she'd already had.

"Oh fuck me.."

A dark chuckle and a freezing cold filled the room, making her whip around until she was facing the new threat. "Was that an invitation? I'm flattered, Little Human..." Glaciap blue eyes slid up and down her form, lingering on the lower hem of the towel. "Did you dress this way just for me~?"

Lucifer waited for her response. This was his first time meeting the little hunter that was often seen around the Winchester boys. She was quite the sight. He'd been expecting more flannel and crass remarks. Not this sweet little human with wide e/c eyes. In fact... it was as if she wasn't even looking at him. Her gaze was locked up and over his shoulder and her pupils were trembling with what he could only assume was awe.

Y/n had paused in what she'd been planning to say as she watched the large shimmering mass shift behind the form of the tall blue-eyed blonde. The more she focused on the ethereal mass, the more detailed it became. Six large arching wings hung from the man's back, They were a smokey silver tipped in burnt Pink and veins of glittering gold through every quill. Each shift sent a wave of ash to the floor.

They were gorgeous. Their unique and tragic beauty had her completely captured by awe. The urge to run her fings through the mass of feathers was strong. She completely zoned out the Blondes words.

Lucifer was feeling his patience wain. He'd wanted long enough, and the human hadn't even met his gaze for a mere second. Did she believe she was better than him? He slowly stalked forward, an angry frown beginning to pull at the edge of his lips before it lifted into a cruel grin. She still wasn't meeting his eyes.

His fingers closed around the weak column of her neck. She was so vulnerable and frail.. He ignored the small thrill that ran through him as he examined the way his vessels hand looked around her throat.

He could feel her pulse hammering away beneath the pads of his fingers. The beat, a salacious dance, tempted him in closer as he eyed her with glowing red eyes.

"I'll not be ignored by a sniveling little Mud-"

"Your wings are so beautiful...~"

Lucifers jaw shut with a clack of teeth and a crack of the joint. Her words echoed in his skull, buzzing around his grace. What did she just say?

His fingers tightened further and was soon joined by his other hand, caging in her cheeks.

"Repeat that, Now!?"

Y/n swallowed as an embered heat warmed her lower belly. A small hint of concern ebbed its way through the back of her mind. All logic was seeping out of her ears in the presence of this angel. It was just her luck she somehow managed to capture the interest of Lucifer, and now she couldn't even keep her head on straight. His hands squeezing her vulnerable throat should not be making her nearly as hot bother as it is.

"I said, You're wings are beautiful... I.."

Lucifers thoughts were moving a mile a second, A mate.. A soulmate..

Out of all the things his father could have done.. A human soulmate..

A humorless chuckle slipped past his lips. Was this his punishment? His eyes once again trailed down her toweled form, and the cleavage he could see wrapped loosely in its soft hold. His smirk grew as something settled over him..

Or maybe it wasnt..~

"You know little human~ I had you grabbed because of your relation to the winchesters. But it's seems," His slowly slid up one of his hands to run his fingers through h/l h/c locks, "I've found a different reason to keep you around..."

He watched her brows furrow in confusion, only to lift in alarm when chilled lips descend om her own. Capturing them in a demanding and devouring press. Two prodding tips slowly pride her lips open until he was able to twirl his split tongue around her warm muscle.

Y/n was lost the second his lips brushed hers. The low embers in her gut flared to life in an explosion of desire and need as she raised trembling hands to press almost uncertainly into the soft mass of feathers. That one touch unlocked the flood works as lucifer trembled against her and a dark needy groan was growled into her open mouth.

Freezing palms hooked underneath her bare thighs, and she barely recognized the twisting feeling of the world warping around her in a flurry of feathers and wind. Her back connected with silky smooth fabric as she was roughly pinned down against a soft bouncy surface.

Y/n cracked open her eyes and pulled her lips from the angels, scanning their new surroundings. The room was dark with an arched ceiling. The bed she'd been pressed down into had a large canopy hung above with deep red curtains closing them inside.

Soon, her attention was being drawn back to lucifer. Unable to stray away for long. E/c eyes widened considerably as she takes in the swath of bared skin. When had he...?

"When.."

"Shhh..." A chilled finger pressed against her lips quieting her thoughts as he used his free hand to arrange her legs around his waist and situate his hardened length between slick folds.

Y/n whined low in her throat when those first few rolls of his hips had his tip knocking against her sensitive clit. When it catches against her dripping entrance before slipping up to bounce against that nub, she lets out a loud whimper.

"That's it, Just like that little Human~ let me hear your pleasure."

As soon as his finger slipped free from her lips, a loud moan of his name filled the space, "Lucifer!~"

It tapered off into a gasping and breathy mewl as the chilled flesh of his length began to stretch her open, inch by inch. Heels dug into his back, urging her forward until his hips were flush with her own, and he was growling possessive obscenities into the shell of her ear.

"Made just for me, my own little human.. to keep.. to claim and Fill~ All mine!" His hips snapped harshly into the Crease of her thighs, carving her dripping walls open with every body jolting lunge of hips. The obscene smack of thighs was accompanied with gasping mewls from his little souldmates lips.

"Lu-Lucifer!! Ah~ Harder..please~!"

His response was a growl and glowing red eyes. Blunt chilled nails dug divots into her waist, holding her in place, giving him more leverage with every thrust. She could already feel the coil tightening up in her gut, threatening to snap at any second. It seemed even the Archangel rutting her into the sheets was needing the edge of pleasure.

A tsunami of ecstasy threatening to drown them both within the coiling Abyss of need sinking its claws into them both. Lucifers hands slipped up her waist until his palms were caging her cheeks and pulling her melting lips to meet his own in a possessive kiss. Her owns fingers slunk up and around his shoulders to trail teasingly along the muscled ridge of his wings.

They shuttered against her touch, and then she sank her hands into the feathers. It was all Lucifer needed to be sent crashing over the edge, his teeth scraping teasingly against her bottom lip.

Y/ns legs tightened around his hips as a warmth spread through her lower gut, Lucifer rolled his hips, pressing his release deeper into her core with every grunt and meeting of flesh. Her little whimpers were music to his ears as he nipped his teeth against her shoulder.

"You won't be leaving this bed, I'll have you begging me for my touch, Mewling and crying for more~"

He watched her cheeks flush, and he could barely restrain himself as he felt those little human fingers once again tease through ashen feathers.

"Please, Lucifer~ Don't stop.."

-

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Mystery Spot | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: so much death. just lots of it. SMUTTTTTTTTTT (18+ MDNI!!! LEAVE!!!), car sex (yum), canon violence, canon gore,

Word Count: 7578

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Sam was incredibly insistent on working a case he’d found instead of going after Bela, much to your and Dean’s dismay. You and your partner were desperate to get your hands on her and tear her a new one. 

However, you decided to humor Sam. 

“I really don’t think this is gonna take that long,” you told Dean. “Should be like, a week, at most.”

You’d found a motel room in a small town in Florida. Broward County was the last place your victim had been seen. You left Sam in the room, and you and Dean went for a night drive.

“I’m runnin’ out of time, though, (Y/N). I wanna find the bitch before I croak,” he responded. 

“Babe, I know. And we will,” you sighed, sadness taking over. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ‘ve brought that up,” Dean said, referring to his nearing trip downstairs.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you told him. “I know it’s constantly on your mind. It’s constantly on mine, too.”

He threw a lingering glance at you out of the corner of his eye before looking back at the road. Then, he pulled off to the side of it in a small clearing. 

“Dee, what are you doing?” you asked. 

Then, his lips were on yours. You let out a small squeak in surprise, but you melted into his kiss with your eyes fluttering shut. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you across his lap. You pressed yourself down onto his hips and began to grind slightly over the top of his growing bulge. Dean groaned into your mouth, and you pulled his hair back to get better access to kiss his neck. He squeezed your ass, making you inhale sharply, and he took the opportunity to push your lips back to his and away from his neck. 

“Back seat,” he growled. 

“Yeah,” you nodded breathlessly. 

With Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” playing in the background, Dean pushed you down into the backseat. Grinding down onto your core, he pressed passionate kisses to your lips. You pulled at his shirt, trying to cue him to take it off.

He chuckled against your mouth. “So needy.” He continued to kiss you while he quickly got his shirt off, and then, his lips were back on yours. He started to kiss down your neck and pushed your shirt up over your stomach. “ ‘S this okay?”

You nodded breathlessly. “Please.”

Dean pulled your shirt over your head, then unhooked your bra, then peppered kisses between your breasts. You tugged on his hair, making him groan. You tried to grind your hips up against him for some sort of friction, but he used his free hand to press your hips down. You whined, and you could feel him smiling against your right nipple as he bit gently on it. 

“Stop teasing,” you begged. 

“All business tonight, huh?” Dean taunted. 

“It’s been too long, c’mon,” you whined. 

That seemed to get through to Dean, and he started to unbutton your jeans. When your breath hitched, he immediately stopped. “Are you sure you want this?” 

You nodded frantically. 

“Words, baby,” Dean said, voice low and rumbling in his chest. 

“Please, fuck me, Dee,” you begged. 

That was all the encouragement he needed. He discarded both your and his pants and quickly sheathed himself inside you. You took in a sharp breath. No matter how many times you’d had sex with Dean, the stretch was still surprising no matter how turned on you were. 

Breathing heavily, he gave you a little time to adjust. 

“Move. Move, please,” you keened. 

Dean rolled his hips into yours slowly and kissed you deeply. This was different than the other times you’d had sex. While you’d had very passionate sex before as opposed to rough or kinky, this was just you and Dean. It was you and Dean in your rawest, most vulnerable forms. 

Before Dean, the phrase “love making” made you cringe. Now, you knew what it felt like. The kind of love you and Dean had for each other was the love you’d been searching for all your life. As a little girl, Disney princess movies had always been fun for you to watch, but you weren’t sure you wanted such a mushy, fluffy love. As you got older, you read about Mr. Darcy and the way he loved Elizabeth. That was the kind of love you were searching for. And, in his own way, Dean loved you just as powerfully. With each deep thrust of his hips, he was proving it to you. 

When you’d both cum, Dean laid on top your bare chest. The two of you just allowed time to pass as rain started to patter against the windows of the Impala and the Metallica cassette tape came to an end. 

Despite Dean’s avoidance to verbally telling you he loved you, you found him showing you more and more frequently as of late. Whether it be the extra time he took to make sure you were okay on hunts, his protectiveness, or those secrets he’d gotten better and better at sharing with you, there was no doubt in your mind Dean loved you. He would clean your guns without you asking, sharpen your knives, and replace your sets of your favorite black ink pens when you’d run out of ink for your journaling and sketching. When you smiled at him, it looked as though he was studying your facial expression as if to imprint it on his mind. 

You’d noticed him trying his best to tame his wandering eyes and flirtatious remarks to himself at the beginning of your relationship, and now, it wasn’t even a conscious effort. You seemed to be the only woman on the planet in his eyes, which was shocking considering the way he acted when you met him. All these things he did to make you feel more secure in your relationship proved to you how much he loved you. 

With that in mind, you pressed a kiss to the top of Dean’s head and noticed he’d drifted off. You smiled thoughtfully and raked your hands through his hair to soothe him. 

***

A day later, you woke up to the sound of Asia’s “Heat of the Moment” playing loudly through the radio on the nightstand between the bed you shared with Dean and Sam’s bed. 

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean laughed. He sat on the end of your bed, tying his shoes. 

You pushed his back with your feet still under the covers. “Get your shoes off my bed, Winchester!”

“Dude, Asia?” Sam scoffed. 

Dean hummed. “Come on. You love this song, and you know it.”

“Yeah, and if I ever hear it again, I'm gonna kill myself.”

Dean turned up the volume. “What? Sorry, couldn't hear you.”

You giggled, still trying to push Dean off the bed, and he suddenly flopped back down across your body. “What’s gotten into you?” you asked regarding his bright-eyed and bushy-tailed demeanor. 

“I got to fuck my baby in my baby. What could be better?”

Sam groaned. “Ew, guys. Dean? Shut up.”

You grabbed a pillow and chucked it at Sam. Then, you got up and moved to the bathroom. Dean slipped a hand on the small of your back and came to brush his teeth next to you. Sam took the only remaining spot at the other sink and did the same. In the midst of you and Sam brushing your teeth, Dean gargled his spit obnoxiously. 

You and Sam were disgusted, and Dean did not hide his excitement at that fact. 

Next, you got dressed in the bathroom. When you headed back into the bedroom, Dean was rummaging through his duffel bag. He pulled out your black, lacy bra. “This yours?” he asked Sam. 

“Dean!” you shrieked, grabbing it out of his hands and shoving it back in his bag. 

He laughed before rummaging around some more and pulling out his Taurus. “Bingo.” He got up and headed toward the door. “Now, who’s ready for some breakfast?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling lopsidedly, and headed out to the car behind him. 

***

The cashier was talking to an old man as you entered the diner. It was quite small, and the wood paneling on the walls was likely making the room feel smaller. 

You found a booth and sat down, and Dean sat next to you. Sam sat across the table, somewhat between you and Dean on the opposite bench. 

Dean noticed a poster on the wall. “Hey, Tuesday. Pig in a poke.”

“You even know what that is?” Sam grimaced. 

The waitress, whose name tag read “Doris,” came up to your table. “You folks ready?”

Dean grinned. “Yes. I'll have the special, side of bacon, and a coffee.”

“Make it two coffees and a short stack,” said Sam. 

“How ‘bout you, darlin’?” Doris asked you. 

“I’ll take a coffee and a short stack, too. Thanks,” you smiled. 

“You got it,” Doris nodded. 

“I'm telling you, Sam, this job is small fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela,” Dean said quietly. 

“Okay, sure, let's get right on that. Where is she again?” Sam remarked. 

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled. 

“Look. Believe me, I want to find her as bad as you do. In the meantime, we have this.” Sam pulled out a newspaper. 

“Alright, so, this professor—” Dean began to read over the headline. 

“Dexter Hasselback was passing through town last week when he vanished,” Sam informed. 

“Last known location?” you asked. 

“His daughter says he was on his way to visit the Broward County Mystery Spot,” Sam replied. 

You looked down at the flier Sam had put in front of you. 

Dean pulled it slightly closer to him for a better view. He read off the back of the paper, “Where the laws of physics have no meaning.”

You snickered. 

Doris arrived with a tray of coffees. “Three coffees, black, and some hot sauce for the—” Doris gasped and cut herself off when the hot sauce teetered and fell off the tray. The bottle smashed to bits on the ground. “Whoops. Crap! Sorry.” She turned around to the back of house. “Cleanup!”

***

After finishing breakfast, you walked down the street hand in hand with Dean. He’d been growing more and more touchy as of late; undoubtedly as his time was drawing nearer. 

A golden retriever barking pulled you out of your thoughts.

You gasped, “Puppy!” and turned your head over your shoulder to look at it. 

Dean chuckled. “What are you, five?”

You shrugged. “What? I like dogs.”

Dean reached over and grabbed the Mystery Spot flier from Sam’s hands. “Sam, joints like this are only tourist traps, right? I mean, you know, balls rolling uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling, they're only dangerous to your wallet.” 

“Okay, look, I'm just saying, there are spots in the world where holes open up and swallow people. The Bermuda Triangle, uh, the Oregon Vortex—”

You cut Sam off. “Broward County Mystery Spot?”

“Well, sometimes these places are legit,” the younger brother shrugged. 

“Okay, so if it is legit—” you began. 

“And that’s a big ass ‘if’,” Dean interjected. 

“What’s the lore?” you finished, shooting a glance at Dean. 

Dean accidentally bumped into a blonde girl who was carrying a stack of papers and bustling past. 

“Excuse me,” she said. 

“The lore's pretty fuckin’ nuts, actually,” Sam responded. “They say these places the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend spacetime, sending victims no one knows where.”

“Sounds a little ‘X-Files’ to me,” Dean scoffed. 

You watched two movers try to get a desk through the door of an apartment complex.

“Told you it wouldn't fit,” one of them said. 

“What do you want, a Pulitzer?” the other replied. 

“Alright, look, I'm not saying this is really happening, but if it is, we gotta check it out; see if we can do something,” Sam continued. 

“Alright, alright, we'll go tonight after they close; get ourselves a nice long look,” Dean conceded. 

*** Later that night, you did just as Dean said. The man in question was shining his flashlight around the glow-in-the-dark objects. Just as he’d said, there were various pieces of furniture nailed to the ceiling. “Wow, uncanny,” he commented. Dean moved his flashlight in your direction where you inspected a lamp at an angle to the floor. “Find anything?”

“No. Sammy?”

He held an unresponsive EMF meter. “No.”

“You have any idea what you're looking for?” Dean questioned his brother. 

“Uh…” Sam trailed off. “Yeah.”

You shot Sam a look. 

“No,” he admitted. 

You shook your head, smiling a bit. 

Suddenly, a gun was pointing directly at your forehead. “What the hell are you doing here?” the voice behind the gun questioned angrily. He appeared to be the owner of the Mystery Spot. 

“Whoa, whoa!” Dean said, holding his hands up in surrender. The owner moved his gun to point it at Dean. 

“We can explain,” the older brother continued. 

“You robbing me?!” the man shouted. 

“Nobody’s robbing you, I swear,” you said. 

“Don’t move!” the owner roared. 

“Just putting the gun down,” Dean explained, moving very slowly. 

The owner fired unexpectedly, and you shrieked in surprise. “Dean!” You rushed to his side as he fell to the ground, breathing laboriously. 

“Oh, my god. Dean!” you cried, his breaths becoming more and more choked. 

“Hey!” Sam shouted at the owner. “Call 9-1-1!”

“I—I didn't mean to—”

You cut the man off. “Now!” The owner left. 

You cradled Dean’s head in your lap. “Oh, my god. Not like this, please…” Tears welled in your eyes. “Not yet.”

Dean choked out one last breath, and then he went still; his eyes closed. 

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his. 

“Heat of the moment,” you heard Asia singing. 

Confused, your eyes snapped open.

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean laughed. He sat on the end of your bed, tying his shoes. 

Dean looked to Sam, waiting for a reaction. “Dude. Asia.”

You shot up and looked over at the younger Winchester for any validation that you weren’t going crazy. 

He seemed confused, too. “Dean?”

Okay, so maybe you weren’t alone in this. 

Dean hummed. “Come on. You love this song, and you know it.” He grooved along to the song just as he had— yesterday? In your dream?— you weren’t sure. 

Then, you got up and moved to the bathroom. You just needed to get away and try to come to grips with what was happening. Next, Dean slipped a hand on the small of your back and came to brush his teeth next to you. Sam took the only remaining spot at the other sink and did the same. In the midst of you and Sam brushing your teeth, Dean gargled his spit obnoxiously. 

Noticing that you and Sam had no reaction, he deflated and spit. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you and Sam responded in unison. 

“Just had a weird dream, that’s all,” you said. 

Sam shot you a curious look. “Me, too.”

Dean looked between the two of you, expression somewhere between confusion and upset. “Clowns or midgets?” Dean asked. 

You rolled your eyes. Next, you got dressed in the bathroom. When you headed back into the bedroom, Dean was rummaging through his duffel bag. He pulled out your black, lacy bra. “This yours?” he asked Sam. 

“Dean!” you shrieked, grabbing it out of his hands and shoving it back in his bag. 

He laughed before rummaging around some more and pulling out his Taurus. “Bingo.” He got up and headed toward the door. “Now, who’s ready for some breakfast?”

You rolled your eyes and headed out to the car behind him. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N), wait,” Sam called after you. 

You stopped just before the door. 

“You—”

You nodded. “It’s like de ja vu, man, it’s weird.”

“What the hell is happening?” Sam asked. 

***

The cashier was talking to an old man as you entered the diner. It was quite small, and the wood paneling on the walls was likely making the room feel smaller; just like yesterday. 

You found a booth and sat down, and Dean sat next to you. Sam sat across the table, somewhat between you and Dean on the opposite bench. 

Dean noticed a poster on the wall. “Hey, Tuesday. Pig in a poke.”

“It’s Tuesday?!” you and Sam asked in surprise. 

Dean looked between you and Sam. “Yeah…?”

The waitress, whose name tag read “Doris,” came up to your table. “You folks ready?”

Dean grinned. “Yes. I'll have the special, side of bacon, and a coffee.”

“Nothing for me, thanks,” said Sam. 

“Let me know if you change your mind. How ‘bout you, darlin’?” Doris asked you. 

“I’ll take a coffee and a short stack. Thanks,” you smiled uncomfortably. 

“You got it,” Doris nodded. 

“I'm telling you, Sam, this job is small fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela,” Dean said quietly. 

You stared after Doris, and Dean snapped his fingers in front of your face. “You guys with me?”

You shook your head. “You really don’t… remember any of this?” 

“Remember what?” he asked. 

“This,” Sam began. “Today. Like it's— like it's happened before?”

“You mean like déjà vu?” Dean asked. 

“No, I mean like, like it's really happened before,” Sam replied. 

“Yeah. Like déjà vu.”

“No, Dee,” you said. “What he’s saying is, it feels like we’re living yesterday all over again.”

“Okay, how is that not dé—”

Sam angrily cut his brother off. “Don't, don't say it! Just don't even—”

Doris came back to the table with a tray with two coffees and a hot sauce. “Two coffees, black, and some hot sauce for the—oops! Crap!” Sam caught the hot sauce bottle as it fell, and he seemed a little stunned by his own action. 

Doris gasped. “Thanks.” She put down the bottle and left. 

Dean looked confused. “Nice reflexes.”

You and Sam were frustrated, and you just stared down at the steaming coffee in front of you. 

***

After finishing breakfast, you walked down the street hand in hand with Dean. 

A golden retriever barking pulled you out of your thoughts.

You turned to look at it as you passed. 

“Guys, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Dean sighed. 

“Okay, look,” Sam huffed. “Yesterday was Tuesday, right? But today is Tuesday too.”

“Yeah. No. Good. You're totally balanced,” Dean deadpanned. 

“Why don’t you believe us, Dean?” you asked, frustrated with the whole situation. 

Dean laughed as he collided with the blonde girl holding papers and bustling past yet again. 

“Excuse me,” she said. 

“Look, I'm just saying that it's crazy, you know, I mean, even for us crazy. ‘Dingo ate my baby’ crazy. Hey, maybe it was another of your psychic premonitions.” Dean was clearly reaching. 

“How does that explain me, then?” you challenged. 

“I— I don’t know,” Dean sighed. “You’re—”

“Careful,” you warned. 

Dean closed his mouth at your firm stare. 

“Listen, we were at the Mystery Spot, and then—” Sam cut himself off. 

“And then what?” Dean prompted. 

Sam paused, appearing as if he didn’t want to say. “Then, I woke up.”

You watched two movers try to get a desk through the door of an apartment complex.

“Told you it wouldn't fit,” one of them said. 

“What do you want, a Pulitzer?” the other replied.

Sam snapped his fingers at you. “Wait a minute! The Mystery Spot. You think maybe it— “ The younger brother cut himself off again. 

“Maybe what?” Dean asked. 

“We gotta check that place out. Look, just – go with me on this, okay?” Sam said. 

“I agree,” you added. 

“Alright, alright, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look,” Dean conceded. 

Sam stopped in his tracks, as did you. 

“No, no,” you rushed out. 

“Wait, what?” Sam exclaimed simultaneously. “No!”

“Whoa,” Dean dropped your hand and looked between you and Sam. “Why not?”

“Uh,” Sam thought aloud, “Let's just go now. Right now. Business hours, nice and crowded.”

“My god, you're a freak.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Dean,” you warned again. 

“Okay! Whatever. We'll go now,” he sighed. Dean walked a few feet ahead of you and his brother and looked to his right. Suddenly, a car slammed into him from his left. 

“Dean!” you and Sam cried. 

You ran to the spot where Dean laid face down in the street. You rolled his head over into your lap, and his face was covered in bloodied scrapes. “No, no, no, not again.”

Again, you rested your forehead against Dean’s, hugging his body close to yours, and closed your eyes. 

“Heat of the moment,” Asia sang. 

Your eyes snapped open again. 

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean laughed. He sat on the end of your bed, tying his shoes. 

Your heart dropped. 

***

Dean noticed a poster on the wall of the diner. “Hey, Tuesday. Pig in a poke.”

“Okay, would you listen to me, Dean? 'Cause I am flipping out,” Sam said. 

You were flipping out as well, so much so that it felt like your brain was short circuiting to where you couldn’t speak. 

The waitress, whose name tag read “Doris,” came up to your table. “You folks ready?”

“He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee, black. Nothing for me, thanks,” Sam said. 

“How ‘bout you, darlin’?” Doris asked you. 

“I’ll take a coffee and a short stack. Thanks,” you smiled uncomfortably. 

“You got it,” Doris nodded. 

“Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that,” Dean snarked. 

You hit his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

“Quit fucking around, Dean,” Sam groaned. 

“Okay. Okay. I'm listening. So- so, you think that you guys ‘re in some kind of a— what again?”

“Time loop,” you and Sam replied simultaneously. 

“Like Groundhog Day,” the older brother said monotonously. 

“Yes, exactly,” Sam nodded. “Like Groundhog Day.”

Dean nodded skeptically. 

“So you don't believe us,” you said, feeling defeated. 

Dean laughed. “It's just a little crazy, I mean even for us crazy, you know, like, uh—”

“ ‘Dingo ate my baby’ crazy?” you cut him off. 

Dean turned to you sharply. “How'd you know I was going to say that?”

“Because you said it before, Dean, that's our whole point,” Sam responded. 

Doris came back to the table with a tray with two coffees and a hot sauce. “Two coffees, black, and some hot sauce for the— oops! Crap!”

Sam caught the hot sauce bottle as it fell, and he didn’t even have to look at it to do so. 

Doris gasped. “Thanks.” She put down the bottle and left. 

Dean looked confused. “Nice reflexes.”

“No, I knew it was going to happen.”

“So did I,” you added. 

Dean sighed. “Okay, look. I'm sure that there's some sort of an explanation—”

“You're just going to have to go with me on this, Dean, you just have to, you owe me that much!” Sam exclaimed.

“Sam, calm down,” you chastised. 

“Don't tell me to calm down! I can't calm down. I can't. Because—” the younger brother cut himself off. 

“Because what?” Dean pressed. 

Sam couldn’t answer.

“Because you die today, Dee,” you said softly. 

He tilted your chin up with his first two fingers. “I'm not gonna die. Not today.”

“We’ve watched you die twice now, and I—” you grabbed Dean’s wrist. “I can’t do it again. I won’t. Please, just go with us on this. Please.”

“Alright,” Dean nodded, “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”

You rested your forehead against his and nodded. 

Sam sat across from you watching, and Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. He pointed at Sam. “I still think you’re nuts, but we’ll figure it out.”

***

After finishing breakfast, you walked down the street hand in hand with Dean. 

A golden retriever barking pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to look at it as you passed. 

Dean collided with the blonde girl holding papers and bustling past yet again. 

“Excuse me,” she said. 

You watched two movers try to get a desk through the door of an apartment complex.

“Told you it wouldn't fit,” one of them said. 

“What do you want, a Pulitzer?” the other replied.

Dean’s mind was still racing over the situation, and you could very clearly see the wheels in his head turning. “And you think this cheesy-ass tourist trap has something to do with it?” he asked out of the blue. 

“Maybe it's the real deal, you know? The— the magnetic fields bending spacetime, or whatever,” Sam suggested. 

The older brother tsked. “I don't know, it all seems a little too ‘X-Files’ for me.”

“Well, I don't know how else to explain it, Dean!” Sam snapped. 

“Alright, alright, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look,” Dean conceded. 

“No!” you cried, stopping in your tracks. “No! We can’t.”

“Why not?” he asked. 

“Because—!” You shook your head and looked away, unable to finish. 

“Because what?” Dean questioned. It dawned on him suddenly. “I die there?”

“Blown away, actually,” Sam muttered. 

“Huh. Okay, let's go now,” said Dean. He walked a few feet ahead of you and his brother and looked to his right. Before he could step out into the street, you and Sam grabbed him and pulled him back from nearly being hit by the car speeding past. 

“Stay out of the way!” the man driving the car yelled. 

Dean laughed, staring after the car, until he saw your and Sam’s faces. “Wait, did he—?”

“Yesterday. Yeah,” Sam nodded. 

Dean raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“And what?” you scoffed. 

“Did it look cool, like in the movies?” Dean grinned widely. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “You peed yourself.” He walked off. 

Dean immediately got uncomfortable. “Of course I peed myself. Man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control over his bladder? Come on!”

“You didn’t,” you told him. “And it did look like the movies.”

Dean smiled with boyish pride before holding you back while he looked both ways across the street. 

***

“Folks, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. We could use all the good ink we can get,” the owner of the Mystery Spot told you. 

“How long have you owned the place, Mr. Carpiak?” Sam asked. 

“Well, my family's been guarding the secrets here since you don't want to know when.” Of course, he kept up the act. 

“So you'd know if anything strange happened,” the brunet continued. 

The owner chuckled. “Strange? Strange happens here all the time. It's a Mystery Spot.”

“What exactly does that mean?” 

“Well, uh, it's where the laws of physics have no meaning.”

Clearly, Sam was getting fed up. “Okay, like how?”

“Take the tour,” the owner grinned. 

“The guy who went missing, Dexter Hasselback, he take the tour?” asked Dean. 

The owner’s smile dropped. “Uh, uh, hold on a minute, what kind of article is this?”

“Just answer the question,” you demanded, patience wearing thinner than Sam’s. 

“The police scoured every inch of this place. They couldn't find that man. I never seen him before. We're a family establishment—”

You stepped to him, shoving the pen in his face. “There is something weird going on here. Now, do you know anything about it, or not?” 

The owner stiffened, staring at the end of the pen that he was keeping his distance from. “Okay. Look. Guys, um, give me a break. I bought the joint at a foreclosure auction last March, alright? Hell, I used to sell bail bonds.”

You continued to stare him down. 

“Okay, Anne Lewis, let’s get some air,” Dean grumbled, steering you away from the man. 

You weren’t angry at Dean, but you were upset with the entire situation. You shrugged Dean off as you hit the street outside. 

“Well, I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought: it's full of crap,” Dean remarked. 

“Then what is it, Dean? What the hell is happening to us?” Sam argued. 

“I don't know,” he sighed. “Alright, let me just— So, every day I die.”

You nodded. 

“And that’s when you two wake up again, right?” 

You nodded again. 

“So let's just make sure I don't die,” Dean finished simply. “If I make it to tomorrow, then maybe the loop stops and we can figure all this out.”

“Just… that easy? I don’t know, Dean,” you shook your head. 

“It's worth a shot,” your partner shrugged. “I say we grab some takeout and head back to the motel, lay low until midnight.”

You nodded, hopeful and anxious. 

“Alright,” Dean beamed. “Who wants Chinese?” 

He started walking again and got two steps in before a falling desk crushed him completely. It felt like the air was crushed out of you, and you looked up at the movers from the window who’d dropped the desk. You dropped your head back and closed your eyes. 

“Heat of the moment,” Asia sang again. 

‘I’m gonna go fucking crazy,’ you thought, staring at the ceiling. 

“Rise and shine, Sammy!”

***

One-hundred Tuesdays. You’d been through one-hundred Tuesdays, and there was no end in sight. No matter what you and Sam did, talked about, or tried to change the daily routine, nothing worked. Dean had gotten food poisoning, been electrocuted, choked, been shot— he’d died every way you thought a person possibly could. 

You were so frustrated, you thought you were going to end up dying next by your own hands. 

The cashier was talking to an old man as you entered the diner. It was quite small, and the wood paneling on the walls was likely making the room feel smaller; just like yesterday. And the day before that.  

You found a booth and sat down, and Dean sat next to you. Sam sat across the table, somewhat between you and Dean on the opposite bench. 

Dean noticed a poster on the wall. “Hey, Tuesday. Pig in a poke.”

Sam placed a set of keys on the table; Mr Pickett’s, the man who’d hit Dean with his car on your second Tuesday. 

“What are those?” Dean asked, clearly bewildered. 

“The old man's. Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel.” Sam’s voice was scarily devoid of emotion. 

The waitress, whose name tag read “Doris,” came up to your table. “You folks ready?”

Dean grinned. “Yes. I'll have the special, side of bacon, and a coffee.”

‘Hi, angel,” you said curtly. “How ‘bout you log in some more hours at the archery range. You’re a pretty awful shot.”

“How'd you know that?” she asked, looking both startled and hurt. 

“I’m not gonna answer that question,” you replied. 

Doris walked away from your table, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Okay, so you think you're caught in some kind of what, again?” Dean asked you and his brother. 

“TIme loop,” you and Sam answered in unison. 

“Like Groundhog Day,” Dean said, unsettled by you and Sam talking at the same time. 

“Doesn't matter. There's no way to stop it,” you and Sam said again. 

“What is wrong with you two?” Dean asked, looking between the two of you in concern and confusion. 

“This is the hundredth Tuesday we’ve been through, Dean,” you said. “And it never fucking stops.”

“Hot sauce,” you and Sam stated together.

Doris came back to the table with a tray with two coffees and a hot sauce. “One coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the—oops! Crap!” Sam caught the hot sauce bottle as it fell, and he didn’t even have to look at it to do so. His face was stony as he slid it across the table. 

Doris gasped. “Thanks.” She put down the bottle and left. 

Dean looked confused. “Nice reflexes.”

“We knew it was gonna happen, Dean,” you and the brunet continued together. 

“We know everything that’s gonna happen,” Sam said on his own. 

Dean scoffed. “You don't know everything.”

“Yeah. We do,” you argued. 

“Yeah, right,” the three of you droned together, you and Sam copying Dean’s dry tone. “Nice guess.” 

“It wasn’t a guess,” you and Sam said. 

“Right, you’re mind readers,” the three of you remarked. “Cut it out, Sam.” Dean looked to you. “(Y/N)!” you and Sam whispered sharply with Dean. “Stay out of this, (Y/N).”

Dean was growing frustrated, and the three of you leaned together to continue your memorized conversation. “You think you're being funny but you're being really, really childish!” You paused in time with Dean. “Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up he—”

Dean threw up his hands. “Okay, enough!”

“That's not all,” you said. 

“Randy the cashier?” Sam continued for you. “He's skimming from the register. Judge Myers? At night, he puts on a furry bunny outfit.”

“Over there, that's Cal. He's gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home,” you nodded at the man.

“What’s your point?” asked Dean. 

“We’ve lived through every possible Tuesday,” you explained. “Sam’s ripped the fucking Mystery Spot apart, I burnt it down, and we’ve both tried everything we know to save your life.”

“But we can’t,” added Sam. “No matter what we do, you die. And then, I wake up. And then, it's Tuesday again.”

***

After finishing breakfast, you walked down the street hand in hand with Dean. 

“Dog,” Sam pointed out. 

A golden retriever barking pulled you out of your thoughts.

“There's gotta be some way out of this,” Dean exasperated. 

“ ‘Where’s my damn keys?’ “ you and Sam mocked Mr. Pickett. 

You passed him searching his pockets for the keys Sam stole. “Where’s my damn keys?”

Dean collided with the blonde girl holding papers and bustling past yet again. 

“Excuse me,” she said. 

Dean stopped walking. “Hey. All the times we've walked down this street, I ever do this?” He turned to go back to the blonde girl. “Excuse me, miss!”

You sighed. “No.”

The blonde gave Dean one of her papers which you knew was a missing poster for her father, Dexter Hasselback. You’d spoken to her before around Tuesday sixty-seven. 

The dog growled and barked at Dean, and this was exactly what you were worried about. You tried to hold the dog back, but it still brutally attacked Dean. You closed your eyes again, not even wanting to see Dean lying dead on the concrete.

“Heat of the moment.”

***

The cashier was talking to an old man as you entered the diner. It was quite small, and the wood paneling on the walls was likely making the room feel smaller; just like yesterday. And the day before that.  Everything was as it should be, but something was really bothering you you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

Sam typed away at his laptop researching Dexter Hasselback having finally thought to do so when he got the chance over the last twenty or so Tuesdays.

You barely listened to the conversation between the two boys as you finished breakfast. When you got up from the booth, it dawned on you what was wrong. The man at the table next to you had used strawberry syrup. 

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked you. 

You saw the man who usually sat at that table passing by the diner windows. “He always has maple syrup.”

Sam caught on to what you were suggesting. “(Y/N), you’re a genius.”

“Someone wanna bring me into the loop, here?” Dean’s voice broke in. 

“Nothing ever changes here, Dean,” you said. “Just us.”

“Heat of the moment.”

***

You confronted the trickster, who, surprisingly, was the one you thought you’d killed back at that college. Somehow, though, he survived. 

“Why are you doing this?” Sam demanded, still having the trickster pinned to the wall with the steak. 

“You're joking, right?” the trickster snorted. “You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?”

“And Hasselback, what about him?” Dean questioned. 

“That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one.” The creature laughed at his own joke. “Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town.”

“So, this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over?” you asked angrily. 

“One, yes. It is fun. And two?” He turned his attention away from just you to you and Sam. “This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die, every day? Forever?”

“You son of a bitch,” Sam growled. 

“And my lovely (Y/N).” The trickster zeroed in on you again. “Joke’s on you, too. But you… you’re a lot more fun to push to your limits than Sam is.”

“And why is that?” you snarled. 

“Because you’ll actually give me something interesting to watch. I can’t wait to see what kinda magic you make when Dean goes to Hell,” the trickster laughed. 

Despite how his words rattled you, you kept your face steely. 

“How long will it take you two to realize?” the creature continued to taunt. “You can’t save him. No matter what.”

“Oh yeah? I kill you, this all ends now,” Sam pushed back. 

The trickster’s smirk dropped. “Oh-oh, hey, whoa! Okay. Look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear.”

“You’re lying!” you sneered. 

“If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner,” he grinned. 

You looked to Sam, refusing to look at Dean and let him see the emotions swirling in your eyes. 

Sam kept his gaze on the trickster. “No. Easier to just kill you.”

“Sorry, kiddo. Can’t have that,” the trickster tsked and snapped his fingers. 

“Promise me, I’ll be back in time,” Huey Lewis & The News sang. 

You snapped up, back in bed in your motel room. 

“What, you two gonna sleep all day?” Dean asked you and Sam. He stood near the bathroom sink. 

“No Asia,” you breathed out.

“Yeah, I know. This station sucks.”

“It's Wednesday!” Sam exclaimed. 

“Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off, will you?” Dean asked, gesturing to the radio closest to you. 

Sam grinned. “What, are you kidding me? This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?”

“No,” Dean snorted. “How many Tuesdays did you guys have?”

“Had to have been, like, one-hundred thirty,” you noted. “Hey, wait. What do you remember?”

“I remember you guys were pretty whacked out of it yesterday, and then, I remember running into the Trickster. But no, that's about it.”

“Alright, pack your stuff,” Sam asserted. “Let’s get the hell out of town. Now.”

“No breakfast?” Dean pouted. 

“No breakfast,” you smiled lopsidedly, kissing his cheek as you moved to the bathroom to get dressed. 

Dean headed down to the car while you and Sam continued to pack. A few minutes of silence passed between you and Sam before you suddenly heard a gunshot. 

Your heads snapped toward each other, and you were instantly speeding out of the door to see if Dean was okay or needed help. 

You hurried down the exterior motel stairs, and you made your way around the back of the Impala. To your horror, Dean splayed out on the ground with blood rapidly soaking his shirt. 

“Oh, god,” you breathed out, dropping to your knees and ignoring the gravel digging into your jeans. “No, no, no, Dean! Baby, look at me!” You pulled his head into your lap as you’d done many Tuesdays before. 

Sam was trying to close his eyes to make something happen. “I’m supposed to wake up. (Y/N), we’re supposed to wake up.”

Your heart dropped. “Somebody help!” you brokenly screamed, tears pouring down your cheeks. “Help us!”

***

Six months later, you were a shell of a human. No matter how many demons you hunted down, ghosts you’d popped, or monsters you’d slaughtered, you were unsatisfied. 

You hadn’t spoken to Sam in months. You hadn’t seen Bobby for even longer. It was lonely, but you only wanted Dean. Bobby left numerous voicemails, but you hadn’t heard from Sam. You figured he was doing just as well as you were. 

Sam had the Impala, and you kept stealing cars. The FBI was on your tail after St. Louis and Maryland and the bank robbery, and even more so now with your trail of stolen cars. However, you had gotten very good at leading them away. 

No wound you sustained was enough to shake your emotionless expression. You’d become a weapon; a mindless, killing machine. And you could only imagine what Dean was experiencing in Hell. That thought haunted you. You knew you had to get downstairs to help him some kind of way, but you hadn’t quite figured out how to ensure your one-way ticket to Hell. 

Well, you’d thought of a few possibilities, but you weren’t sure you were ready to do something that drastic. 

Another thing you were mulling over was what the trickster had said to you. “I can’t wait to see what kinda magic you make when Dean goes to Hell.” You wondered if this was what he was talking about. Was this what he’d imagined you’d be? Was there a worse fate to be discovered? 

Sleep was not your friend lately. You’d stay up rereading your journal entries from the years you’d spent with Dean and imagine the way your drawings would look in real life. If you couldn’t handle that as it was oftentimes painful, you’d just sit beside the window in the dark staring into the moonlight and imagine that Dean was sleeping in the bed across the room from you. 

A few years ago, you would have made fun of yourself for your life having fallen apart after the death of the man you loved. You were always incredibly independent, and this breakdown would have been incredibly out of character for you to act this way before Dean. 

Now, you sat at the table in the motel room illuminated by the lamplight eating takeout. 

Suddenly, the trickster appeared in front of you. “Holy Full Metal Jacket, (Y/N). Gotta say, sweetheart, if this is you now? I can’t wait to see the real deal.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, unsure what to do in this situation. You didn’t have a stake on hand, and you hadn’t really been paying attention to the trickster recently. You didn’t see a point in it given Dean was gone either way. 

“What, you really thought Dean was doin’ the hellfire rumba?” he tsked. “I gave you more credit than I should’ve, looks like.”

“Wait, this was all a trick?” You stood from your chair angrily. 

“Whoa there, Megan Turner,” he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. “Sam’s given me a deal. I’m here to put you two out of your misery.”

“Then why come and talk to me instead of just do it?” you asked. 

“Because! It’s more fun this way. It’ll be the last time I talk to you, hopefully. A little sentimental, no?” the creature smirked. 

You folded your arms. “Not really. But what do you want? Why stall?” “ ‘Cause I have a few parting words for you,” he replied. “You were a little quicker on the uptake than Sam to realize that you can’t save Dean from Hell. At least, not before he takes the plunge.” You looked at him in surprise. Did he know what you were planning to do?

“Yes, angelface, I know exactly what’s been swirlin’ around in that head of yours,” he continued without you saying a word to him. “And your little plan is bat crap crazy, but like I said before, I can’t wait to see what you do, kiddo. You’ve always been my favorite of the Three Stooges.”

It was as if your brain wasn’t quite processing what he was saying, and you just kept staring ahead with your arms folded. 

“Good luck out there, champ.”

“Promise me, I’ll be back in time,” Huey Lewis & The News sang. 

You snapped up, back in bed in your motel room. 

“What, you two gonna sleep all day?” Dean asked you and Sam. He stood near the bathroom sink. “I know, no Asia. This station sucks.”

“It's Wednesday!” Sam exclaimed. 

“Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off, will you?” Dean asked, gesturing to the radio closest to you. 

Tears rushing to your eyes, you leapt out of bed and ran into Dean’s arms. He made a sound in surprise but quickly returned your hug with your same ferocity. 

“Sweetheart, how many Tuesdays did you have?” he asked you. 

“Enough,” you muttered into his chest. 

“What, uh, what do you remember?” Sam asked, awkwardly standing near. 

“I remember you guys were pretty whacked out of it yesterday, and then, I remember running into the Trickster. But no, that's about it.”

Sam nodded. “Let's go.”

“No breakfast?” Dean pouted. 

“No breakfast,” you smiled lopsidedly, kissing his cheek as you moved to the bathroom to get dressed. 

“Alright, I'll pack the car,” said Dean. 

“Oh, hell no,” you replied from behind the closed door in the bathroom. 

“It's the parking lot, sweetheart.”

“Just— just trust her,” you heard Sam tell him. 

“Hey, you don't look so good. Something else happen?” Dean asked Sam. 

There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment. “I just had a really weird dream,” Sam finally replied. 

You could hear the smirk in Dean’s voice. “Clowns or midgets?”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[rubyvhs]

berry vodka [jo harvelle]

masterlist

summary; too many shots lead to the confession you’ve been keeping inside for seven months. tags; bi!fem!reader, angst, fluff, insecurities in sexuality but no details, not proofread. — verse: berry vodka next part (smut)

“C’mon, Dean, I’ve done everything you’ve asked for, I’ve tried—”

“Wasn’t enough if the demon’s still out there!” His voice is so clear it makes me shake. I’ve known Dean for years and years, he’s hardly ever raised his voice at me. No one respects women more than he and his brother do, and not once have they yelled at me no matter what I did— and now he’s screaming, for what? Because I let some demon outsmart me for two seconds?

I scoff and storm out of the bedroom we were fighting in. It was a stupid hunt right next to Ellen’s hence why we’re staying at the roadhouse for the week, so i end up at the bar. 

Thankfully, so is my favorite blond. “Hey, Jo.” She smiles wide, waving, and in return dropping the shot glass in her hands to the counter.

“Hi, berry. You’ve been kind of hot and heavy with Dean these days. You okay?” I roll back so I’m sitting straight. 

“Thanks,” I blow a kiss when she hands me a Berry Vodka, “we’re ‘kay, he’s just being an asshole.” 

She agrees with me (though I’ve yet to tell her what he’s being an asshole about) which makes me lean forward on the bar. “I mean, I’m his friend and you’d think that after hunting together for so long he’d stop blaming me for guys hitting on me.”

Her eyes widen and this time she almost drops the glass on accident, though it’s hardly a close call as she easily regains her composure. “He— what?” 

“What?”

“Dean what?”

“He got mad at me?”

“For guys flirting?”

“Yes.”

“Why—” she clears her throat and looks back down at her work, still moving, “why would he— why? Is he like— does he like you?”

“Does Dean—” I let out a laugh, “does Dean like me? Did hell freeze over? No, of course not. He’s not jealous, he’s overprotective. He’s being an ass but he isn’t in love with me.”

“Good,” she lets out a small breath and my heart seizes. Yeah, of course it’s good. Jo’s always been in love with Dean, him liking me would cause a bit of an issue. “I mean— whatever. Yeah. Anyways, why’s he fighting with you anyways?”

“I let a demon go. Thought he was an overly eager guy so I sent him on his way.”

“How’s that your fault?”

“He… might have mentioned he’s a demon— but I thought he was trying to be funny or something, I didn’t know he actually was one. Turns out he wanted to find Sam and Dean. He has something on Yellow Eyes.”

“You guys getting close, then?” One quick nod. The heavy alcohol in the drink burns as I try to finish as much of it as possible at once. I hand it back to Jo and ask for just shots. “You sure?” Another nod.

I need to let go tonight if I’ll be awake and attentive with the guys tomorrow on their wild goose chase. She hands me one shot and I shake my head. She furrowed her eyebrows. “C’mon Jo, I’ll pay.”

“That’s not it and you know it. You can’t drink.” 

“What does that even—” she glared at me and maybe, okay, so sometimes I get a little crazy when I’m drunk but so what? I just flirt and dance, it isn’t like I hurt anyone. Besides, waking up with someone in my bed tomorrow could maybe solve all my problems. “Let me have it, Jo. I just need one night, I deserve it.” That seems like the magic word for everyone in my life at the moment. 

I die for Dean once and suddenly I have a free pass for the rest of my life. If I’d known, I would’ve died for the jackass sooner. Sam brought me back the same day but still— everyone lets me have it.

She stares at me like she’s contemplating it and then gives in with a sigh. From that point on I’m being served shot after shot and I’m more than sure my tab is so high I won’t be able to pay half of it when the night ends. Jo starts serving me much cheaper brands as the night went on— I’m sure she knows that too.

Three shots later, I’m still sober enough to taste the vodka cheapening. “Jooo,” I draw out her name, “you’re not doin’ enough! I need to get drunk, not bored.”

“Slow down, honey.” I shake my head though my ears heat up at the endearment. No time for that now. Two shots more and I’m officially buzzed. Buzzed enough to not notice Dean sit down next to me. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” I shake my head quickly and stand up mumbling something about it being a good night and he seems to take the rejection well, sitting in place as I walk to the empty pool table. 

Immediately as I’m racking the balls up, someone’s hands are on my waist. “You wanna give me a round, honey?” And because I literally have nothing better to do, I let the Sam-height, almost Cass-level-hot guy play pool with me.

His facial hair covers most of his face, which actually looks way too good, but his blue eyes look really really beautiful and I can’t stop staring. “Yes. Yeah.” He smirks and moves his hands away.

“What are we playing for?” I almost answer, I’m not sure what to say, before his deep voice comes from behind me. His hands aren’t on my waist, but he might as well swallow me whole if he’ll make me feel this small. 

“A hundred bucks, how about that, man?” 

“And who are you?”

“Her friend.” Dean has a hand on my shoulder. Asking loudly enough for the other guy to hear, “you mind me playin’, sweetheart?” 

Obviously, I shake my head and we get started. I’m winning so far, the guy— Stefan or something— is downright embarrassing at the game. Dean is letting me and I’m drunk enough to not care. Three more hits and i sigh. “I want drinks.”

Stefan perks up from his round, “I’ll go get ‘em. What do you drink, honey?” He asked for my name ages ago and I gave it but he doesn’t seem to like it.

“I will go get them.” Dean decides and taps the taller man’s shoulder once. That’s smart. I’m not sure why it is— but it is. Stefan’s closer now. Too close.

“I like girls.” I whisper, or blurt, or something that means I say it so fast and so low that I don’t hear or understand it myself.

“You— what?”

“I’m into girls. M’sorry. You’re so close. M’not kissing you.”

“Yeah, I— I wasn’t.” He furrowed his eyebrows but I just shrugged and moved further back. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” I mean, he asked me if I wanted another round by trapping me into the pool table.

I must’ve said it outloud because, “I didn’t trap you, I mean, I held you but that’s because you were kinda off your feet. I apologize if—”

“Oh. M’sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. It isn’t your fault.”

“Good.” I smile and move closer now. He’s warm when I’m not worried he’s trying to get in my pants. I’m not exclusively into girls— only half way, I’m bi, but it seemed like the easiest way to disgust and run away a man.

We talk, enough for me to know his dogs name and for him to know that Dean means well, he’s just worried because I’m drunk, and that he isn’t my boyfriend. 

“You sure? Does he know that?” I glance over at the hunter, speaking to Jo with those twinkling green eyes.

I nod once and tell him we should keep playing. Dean seems occupied. We keep going and set the balls up evenly again. The first round I’ve won two hundred from both men, then we decided to play for nothing and I’m regretting it cause I could’ve really made my bill if I kept receiving money with the way I’m winning. 

“You’re good.” He’s sweet. I get his number and we talk— promise to keep in touch for when I come back to town and just as he’s about to leave I catch up with him.

“Stefan,” I call out once and then I trip over something. Faster than light, I’m already draped over his arm. Falling and whatever. He wants to say something but I quickly straighten up to kiss him, moving my fingers through his hair. He seems to enjoy that, pulling me closer. Then he pulls away.

“How much have you been drinking?”

“What?” That’s not a question you ask someone that’s sleeping with you. Or planning to.

“How many drinks?”

“I— I don’t know like so little,” he shakes his head, “only five.”

“Five?”

“Shots.” He lets out a scoff and walks me back to the bar. I’m sure I’m pouting by both the looks on Dean and Jo’s faces and by the pull of my mine. And maybe Stefan’s laugh. He hands me off to them and I wave at him. He makes me promise to call tomorrow and I nod. “He was so nice. Why don’t nice guys go for me?” I groan, banging my head against the wood of the bar softly. 

“That’s not true.” I know it’s Jo who says that which makes it even worse. Of course you’d think that. You’re trying to get me to leave so you can suck Dean’s face off. It’s not fair. He gets all the girls. Always. Even the ones I really like. 

“Whatever.” I take out the two hundred and hand it to Jo. “Keep it.”

“Berry, that’s a hundred and twenty five tip.”

I shrug and stand out of the chair. “M’gonna go to sleep.” Heading up the stairs proves to be a lot harder than i initially planned and so I just give up halfway through and sit down with my head in my hands and tears flowing too fast for me to comprehend why they’re there. This sucks. Having feelings suck. Why can’t I be an angel or demon or something devoid of emotions? Why can’t I be heartless like— I don’t know— Dean! 

“Ouch, sweetheart.” I need to stop speaking my thoughts out loud. “I agree with you there. What’s wrong, berry?” 

“I hate that stupid nickname.”

He frowns, sitting down next to me, a step below. “Why’s that?”

“‘Cause she came up with it and s’not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“That she likes you. She always likes you. And I like you too, De, but this is so annoying like why can’t she love me! Why am I not enough to love? S’it ‘cause I’m not a man? I don’t wanna be a stupid man, I like being a girl. Why can’t girls just like me without me being a guy!” I cant even comprehend the words before they’re out and I just wish Dean would hold me and comfort me. Or maybe make Jo fall in love with me magically.

“Who likes me, berry?”

“Jo! Stupid Jo! And I’ve been the best friend ever and she still doesn’t like me. She’ll never like me and it’s ‘cause I’m a girl.” Deans beautiful face scrunches up into a frown and he shakes his head.

“D’ya tell her you like her?” No. “Well there you go. You need to tell her so you can know if she likes you back or not.”

“N’what if she doesn’t?”

“I’ll still love you.” I smile at the words, “and Jo will always be your friend.” Who are you and what have you done with Dean? “Oh, shut up.”

“Dean,” I whisper after a moment. “Can you tell Jo?” 

He shakes his head.

“Can Sam tell her?” He shakes his head again.

“Tell who what?” Oh that’s Jo.

“Tell you I like you.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dean leave a room, or staircase, as fast as he just did. Ever. “Like you like you. Like i want to kiss you all day and I want to hold you— but I can’t ‘cause you like Dean.”

Her eyes are still wide which probably mean she hates me now but my legs aren’t working so I don’t stand up, just wallow in my  guilt and failure in front of her. 

“Berry, you mean it?” I nod once but keep my head down. Her soft fingers hook under my chin and I look up at her. She’s closer now. Very very much closer. Close enough for me to taste the vanilla perfume i got for her last birthday. She’s close enough to—

Jo’s kissing me. Jo Harvelle’s lips are moving against mine, gentle, but desperate. Hard and soft. Everything all at once and it’s better than I could’ve imagined. I think it’s so good i forget to kiss back because she stops to backtrack, small stutters of I’m sorry and I shouldn’t so I quickly stand up (wow, my legs are back) and kiss her a little too roughly I slip my tongue in there. 

“Jo,” I moan against her mouth and she nods but doesn’t acknowledge it. I’m sobering up. Too sober to be in a situation I’ve imagined a thousand times a day for the past seven months. 

“Jo, bedroom— please.” She nods quicker this time and pulls away enough for me to breathe and take the image of her kiss-flushed face in. She’s everything I’ve ever imagined and needed but I can’t do this.

“Jo, I can’t—” she stops right in front of her room. “I don’t— I love you. And I can be here for you if you’re… I don’t know experimenting but, you need to tell me. I can’t just be a phase, Jo.”

“M’not. C’mon, hey,” she presses another kiss on my lips, slow, “I love you too. You know that. You must’ve known that I’ve loved you ever since you and those idiots came into the roadhouse, but you’re just, you know so much and I didn’t know if you’d ever want someone who doesn’t even know their own sexuality or—”

Now it’s my turn to shut her up with a kiss and I push us into her room. “Shut up. So are we—”

“Yes.” She smiles against me. “You’re mine, berry.”

[taino-ti]

Supernatural Rewrite Project

Howdy, if you've seen me around you've probably heard I have a Supernatural Rewrite Project going. With a focus on delivering in both diversity & many of SPN's empty promises, I have started my revision of the pilot, which you can start reading here if you haven't already! Even if you've never seen Supernatural, the novelization of these episodes are written to be a cohesive presentation of the plot for a new audience, with my own changes as well (featuring brand new characters, like brand Winchester Middle Sister, Lorelai 🏳️‍⚧️)! As always comments and kudos are appreciated but never required, just hope you like my product! Want to connect with the project in a more hands on way? Join our Discord Server (15+!)