Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: After another sleepless night, Y/N plots revenge against Dean... but things don’t quite go as planned.
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Word Count: 3299
Warnings: Sexuality, language, spell-induced angst, Dean not being helpful, Sam trying to be helpful but still enjoying the reader’s predicament
A/N: This is going to be 2 parts because again, I’m wordy and can’t control myself. I will be posting the second part later on this week. I actually dreamed this happened to me and it was pretty awesome until... well... you’ll see in the next part. :) It was beta’d by @kittenofdoomage. Enjoy! - Part 2 -
“Sam, it’s official. I’m going to kill your brother.” A muffled snort of laughter from the bed next to you was all he replied with. “It’s not funny. He’s been going at it for what, over an hour now? I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.”
As if on cue, the rhythmic thumping coming from the motel room next to you increased in volume and frequency, and so did the moans and grunts that were peppered along with the symphony of sex you were hearing through the thin wall. Getting a second room was your idea, but Dean stole your key as he was leaving the bar with a buxom redhead practically dry humping his arm, leaving you no choice but to sleep in Dean’s bed in his and Sam’s room.
“He just needs to get it out of his system,” Sam replied sleepily. “Better he gets some ass than act like one for the entire ride home.”
You opened your mouth to reply when a loud and girly squeal from Dean’s midnight companion interrupted you. You whimpered, pouting pathetically while flailing your arms around in frustration, slamming them down on either side of you with a soft thump. Sam chuckled once more at your childish tantrum and nuzzled back into his blankets.
“There are other ways to blow off steam than chasing pussy, Sam,” you groaned. “Maybe we could get Dean to try yoga. Or kickboxing.”
“Go to sleep, Y/N,” Sam murmured. “You can always nap in the car on the way home if you need to.”
The moaning and thumping continued well into the wee hours of the morning, and you barely slept after Dean and his companion finally passed out. While you were laying in bed staring at the ugly yellow stained popcorn ceiling, your mind wandered. It wasn’t the first time Dean had kept you awake while he had sex with some random townie, and your mind could only conjure ideas for revenge.
One idea in particular stuck out at you, and when you were loading up the Impala the next morning, you scowled at Dean’s chipper attitude and bright smile. The plan for revenge wasn’t too complicated, and after a quick cryptic text to Rowena, she provided the last couple pieces of information to get the ball rolling. But, you had to survive a ten hour car ride back to the bunker first.
Dean kept the music low at Sam’s insistence, scolding his brother when he asked why you were so tired. The low rumble of the Impala soothed you to sleep, and the next thing you knew, a car door was slamming and fluorescent lights were shining bright in front of your eyelids.
“We’re home,” Sam whispered, opening the door near your feet and lightly wiggling your ankle. “Come on, Y/N, get up. You can sleep in your own bed.”
Groaning, you heaved yourself up and slid down the seat, stepping out of the car and stretching. Sam handed you your duffel bag and you both headed down the stairs into the hallway. When you split off and started headed down one of the side corridors, Sam stopped and raised a brow.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m… uhh… I’m gonna go start some laundry before I go take a shower,” you lied. “I don’t want that vamp blood to stain.”
Sam eyed you suspiciously for a moment, but then he nodded and smiled. “Okay, don’t stay up too late. You need to get some sleep.”
“Will do, thanks Sam. Sleep well,” you replied with a grin, thinking about the ingredients you were going to need from the storage room. Getting some rest was the furthest thing from your mind right now, and right when Sam disappeared around the corner down the hallway, you sprinted to your room, threw your bag down, and grabbed your Latin spellwork journal.
Dean wouldn’t know what hit him.
The mixture was relatively simple considering the complicated affect the spell would have, and all of the ingredients you needed were plentiful in the storage room. The workshop area was relatively far from the brothers’ rooms, so it was the perfect location to combine the ingredients, say the spell, and get rid of all the evidence without being interrupted.
It was close to midnight, and according to the information from Rowena, the spell would take effect overnight while the person was asleep. Quickly and quietly you began to chop, crush, and combine various ingredients into the large metal bowl on the table in front of you. The spell said to wait until a small plume of smoke appeared before throwing in the final ingredient and saying the spell.
Swirling the brown mixture around the bottom of the bowl, you only had to wait a few seconds before a small cloud of smoke appeared over the liquid. Grabbing a pinch of hair, you tossed it into the bowl and looked over at your notebook, reading from one of the pages.
“Invoco magiae agere,” you paused trying to read some of the smudged handwriting, “Ego, uhh, ergo convertens felem?”
The smoke shot up and sparkled a light brown color, and you swallowed hard, hoping you got the wording correct. It was the perfect revenge against someone who only thinks about one thing when he wants to blow off steam. Dean was going to have a hell of a morning tomorrow.
Smirking, you cleaned up the spell ingredients and washed the bowl, making sure to return everything to the proper place before you left and headed down the hallway to your room. Dean’s door was closed and you could hear soft snores coming from inside, and it only made your smile wider. Your room was down the next hallway and you quietly slipped inside and changed into your pajamas. The smile never faltered from your face as you climbed into bed and drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
The following morning, the smell of coffee and breakfast pulled you from your dreams. It was still early, so it was likely Sam that was in the kitchen, and you wanted to make sure you were with him when Dean realized what you did. Not even bothering to change out of your pajamas, you threw the covers off and slipped on your fuzzy shoes before pulling open your door and practically power walking down to the kitchen.
When you walked in and saw both Sam and Dean in the room, you froze. The spell didn’t work. Dean should be a cat right now, but his very human form was relaxing at the kitchen table sipping on some coffee. Figures, your perfect revenge idea of changing him into animal version of the one thing he craves, pussy, wouldn’t work. With a sigh, you shuffled over to the coffee pot.
“Good morn-” Dean began, but stopped mid-word, making you turn around and look at him as you stirred your coffee. “Y/N?” His eyes were focused on your head, and you were not in the mood for him to make fun of your bedhead.
“What, Dean? I literally just rolled out of bed, I know my hair is -”
“No, not that. You, uhh, you have…” he trailed off and pointed to your head.
Reaching a hand up, you patted the top of your head, eyes going wide when you felt two lumps of fur buried within your hair. The contact made you whine and pout, and you locked eyes with Dean as he tried to contain his laughter. Sam was staring up at you now, too, but his eyes were full of intrigue and fear instead of humor.
“What the fuck?” you screeched, darting to the mirror above the sink in the corner of the room. You practically stopped breathing when you realized those two tufts of fur were giant cat ears standing straight up on your head. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you hissed, watching your ears flatten back against your head.
“Oh my God,” Dean snorted, pointing behind you, “you have a tail, too!”
Spinning your torso, you looked behind yourself and sure enough, a long brown tail was swishing and twitching behind you, jutting out from a spot near the bottom of your spine. The spell must have worked, but it didn’t work completely nor did it work on the correct person. Figures, the one time you want to magically prank someone, it backfires in your face.
Gripping the sides of the sink, you took a deep breath and growled, your tail twitching almost violently behind you. “It’s not funny.”
“You tried to use a transmogrification spell, didn’t you?” Sam asked and you nodded, making him sigh. “They’re tricky and the words have to be said exactly right or else it’ll backfire on the caster. Who were you trying to change? And to what?” Cheeks pink, you avoided eye contact and fiddled with your cuticles, ignoring the question. “Come on, Y/N.”
Groaning, you crossed your arms and shivered at the new feeling of your cat ears twitching in annoyance. “I was trying to turn Dean into a cat, alright?! I thought that the man that can’t seem to stop chasing pussy would totally enjoy being one for a few days.”
“I really should be mad, but the fact that you look like some Anime cartoon cat chick is all the revenge I could ever need,” Dean said between laughs, and you looked over at him and scowled. “Meee-owww,” he drawled in a high pitched voice, extending his hand and bending his fingers like a claw.
“Dean, enough,” Sam scolded, making his brother roll his eyes. “These types of spells are common, we can find a reversal.” He grabbed his coffee cup and stood up, walking toward the doorway to the war room and library.
“Umm, slight problem,” you announced, stopping Sam’s trek before he could leave the room. “The spell I used... I made it so the person it’s casted on can’t undo it and the only person who can undo it is the person who casted it.”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed dejectedly, turning around and placing his cup back on the table. “So you magically painted yourself into a corner with a paradox.”
“It’s not like I planned on casting it on myself, Sam!” Your ears flattened against your head and your tail began flicking wildly again. Dean was still giggling to himself between sips of coffee, and you had the sudden urge to claw his eyes out.
When you growled, narrowing your eyes at Dean, Sam turned toward you and held up a palm, trying to calm you. “Relax, there’s gotta be a way to break the spell without you doing it yourself.”
“Rowena helped me with some of the technical stuff, she might know a way to undo it,” you informed him and he nodded. Before Sam could leave the room, you growled in pain. “Argh, my hands!” you shouted, dropping to your knees and squeezing your hands into fists to try and stop the pain. Both brothers rushed over to you, Sam squatting down on your right and Dean on his knees to your left.
“What’s going on?” Sam reached out and took your right hand, examining it as it began to change. “Oh, no.”
The skin on your hands and fingers was rapidly being covered by fur, and your fingers were changing shape, bending unnaturally until they were curled back and covered with fur. Your fingertips were replaced by curved claws, and you whimpered once the pain stopped, looking down at your hands.
No, not hands. Paws. Your hands were now covered in dark brown fur and shaped like the paws of a lion or other large cat.
“This… the spell was supposed to work overnight and change Dean into a cat. I think I messed it up so bad that the spell not only backfired on me, but it’s changing me slowly over time.” You spoke without moving your eyes from the black leathery skin covering the underside of your paws.
“Well,” Dean began, sitting back on his feet, “I think there’s only one question we should ask. Where are we going to find a litter box big enough for a human-sized cat Y/N?”
His joking and annoyance finally took you over, and you pounced, pinning Dean to the ground with one paw on his neck and the other on his chest so you were straddling his waist. Sam backed up and watched, making sure you didn’t have your claws out, which you didn’t. He knew better than to try and interrupt cats when they fight, so he sighed and stood, walking from the room, much to Dean’s dismay.
“Sammy!” Dean yelled at his brother’s back as he walked away, and you pressed harder on his neck, making him grunt and look back to you. “Sweetheart, just relax. You know I didn’t mean it.”
Growling low in your throat, you extended your claws slightly when Dean began to try and wiggle you off him. They were just scraping his flesh, not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to let him know they were there. He instantly ceased his movements and swallowed, eyes wide in fear.
“Y/N -”
“Chill out, Dean. I’m not going to do anything to you,” you said softly, sliding off his lap to kneel on the floor next to him. “Yet.” Springing to your feet you winked at him and sashayed from the kitchen, tail high in the air, leaving Dean on the floor with a half-hard cock and a confused smile on his lips.
The next six hours were spent in the library with Sam trying to find a way to break the spell before it turned you completely into a giant cat. After your hands turned to paws, your feet were quick to follow, and you were happy you got your fuzzy shoes off in time before they ripped. The hours after that, your eyes changed to vertical pupils, allowing you to see things so much more clear. Once the whiskers appeared, jutting from your your cheeks, you almost wanted to start crying.
Not only were you upset at slowly changing into a cat, your senses were completely unfamiliar and overwhelming. You could hear the repetitive plinking noise of a leaky faucet in the kitchen, soft rustling of what you assumed to be a mouse in one of the storage rooms, and to top it all off, you had the urge to crawl into Sam’s lap and take a nap.
It was driving you nuts.
“Y/N?” Sam’s voice cut through the other background noises and your attention snapped to him. “You okay?” When you nodded and began looking around the room like a paranoid person, Sam crossed his arms across his chest and raised his eyebrows at you.
“Fine,” you threw your arms up, “I’m not okay. Everything is so intense, Sam. I can tell exactly where Dean is and that he’s,” you sniffed the air, “eating one of your Hot Pockets,” you sniffed again, “ham and cheddar. My eyes can see so much wider than I’m used to, and every little thing keeps drawing my attention. It’s like my hunter reflexes think that every dust bunny is an enemy that needs to be killed. Do you know how dusty this place is?”
“Y/N,” Sam said slowly, watching your chest heave.
“And to top it all off, I have the urge to curl up in your lap or lay across the book you’re reading so you can scratch my head until I fall asleep!” You saw Sam staring at your paws where they were flat on the table, and your eyes went wide when you realized your claws were fully out and scratching deep gashes into the varnished wood. Retracting your claws and dropping your paws to your lap, you took a deep breath. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright. It’ll make for an interesting story one day.” He shrugged, flipping the old lore book in front of him closed. “But, I think it’s not just your body that’s changing into a cat… it’s also your behavior.”
Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. “No way, Sam. I’m still me. I can still talk and think and use a normal human bathroom. Although using toilet paper is definitely interesting.” You stared at your paw hands and wiggled your fingers.
A playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips made you tilt your head, but Sam only reached over and tore an empty page from the notebook he was just scribbling in. He crumpled the paper into a ball and quickly waved it around in front of you before tossing it into the empty space next to the map table in the war room.
It was like all logical thought was shut off in your brain. You had one mission and one mission only: to catch and kill that paper ball.
You scrambled out of your seat and leapt down the stairs into the war room, sliding to a stop next to the paper ball and giving it a whack with your paw, sending it skittering across the marble floor. You chased it across the room and smacked it again, and soon enough you were only focusing on the yellow paper, knocking over chairs and sending the documents sitting on the map table flying as you played.
Once your cat brain assumed the paper was finally dead, you picked it up in your mouth and trotted on all fours back over to Sam, dropping it onto the floor next to him and sitting back on your haunches.
“Yeah,” Sam chuckled, bending over and picking up the paper ball. “Definitely not starting to behave like a cat.”
Dean shuffled into the war room after hearing the commotion and looked around at the toppled chairs and papers strewn about. “What the hell happened in here?”
Dean’s voice made you growl softly and instantly want to seek out comfort. Hauling your body up onto Sam’s leg, you climbed across his lap and curled up with your back facing toward Dean. You didn’t pay any mind to Sam’s strained grunts as you walked across him, but his hand landed on your back when you finally settled and tucked your tail around yourself.
“Y/N isn’t just changing into a cat,” Sam explained as Dean’s footsteps grew closer, “she’s also acting like one.” Sam’s hand wasn’t moving where it was resting on your back, so you extended your claws a little bit until he hissed in pain and jumped. “Y/N! That hurts!”
“Pet me,” you grunted, waiting for him to comply before you retracted your claws.
Sam’s hand began to shakily glide from your hair down your back and you sighed, feeling a strange rumbling coming from your throat as you retracted your claws and relaxed. Closing your eyes at the immense amount of bliss you were feeling, you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep as Sam’s warm hand continued to stroke you.
“Is she purring?” Dean asked, taking a seat across the table from his brother.
“Yeah, I think she is. We really need to figure out how to stop this. What if she completely turns into a cat and all of her inhibitions are gone?” Dean lewdly smirked, and Sam rolled his eyes. “Not like that, you pervert. What if the part of her that’s Y/N is completely taken over by a cat and she decides we’re prey? She’d be the size of a lion, she could easily kill us without even knowing what she’s doing.”
Dean sighed and nodded, his concern for you beginning to break through the jokes and humor he was trying to use to lighten the mood. “Dungeon?”
does anyone know of a spell to summon/bring a cat into your life? I have a literal ball of shed hairs of the cat I want, and I’ve scrounged up $120/$135 (for the adoption fee).
Feel free to reblog with links, or message me directly... whatever is easier on the anxiety.
Sorry if you noticed I didn’t post a 13th one. This one is a Cat Protection Spell by Patti Wigington
What you need:
A Yellow candle
A photo of your cat
Catnip
1.) Light the candle and place it beside the photo of your cat. Rub the catnip between your palms until it becomes a fine powder. Sprinkle it around both the photo and the candle, forming a circle, and say “ Great adventurer, wild warrior, noble cat, be protected on your journeys, within this home and in the wild. Wherever you roam, you will always return safe,healthy and whole.”
2.) Extinguish the candle when finished, or when your cat begins rolling around in the catnip dust
Light the candle and the lavender incense, and make sure that both are safe. Switch off all electric lighting, and lie down with your cats heart across your heart. Stroke your cat until he purrs. Breathe in rhythm to the purring to link the slow alpha brain wave that connect you to the ether where all knowledge is.
Tell your cat you are asking, with your cat’s help, for the light of the candle flame to bring a perfect partner into your life. The say,
Cat be nimble,
Cat be quick.
As the flame burns the wick,
Bring me true love quick.
If when your cat is on your heart and you are stroking him, you see or feel static electricity, it reveals you have created and magic spark or attraction, perhaps in the life of someone whom you have already met. Do not try to create static, but take it as a good sign if it occurs naturally.
After relaxing as long as you like with your cat, sprinkle a little of the fur that may already be on your hand, or picked up from your clothes, into the candle flame. Then snuff out the candle.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
does anybody have a spell or ritual to honor my cat/familiar that passed away recently? i’ve been trying to search for them but i can’t seem to find any :(
Summary: As the reader’s body continues to change, she finds herself in a bad spot when her primal instincts take over.
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel
Word Count: 3631
Warnings: Angst, shit hitting the fan, mention of minor character deaths (not graphic), more angst, language, sexuality, fluff
A/N: Part two and it is now complete! Nothing like a good cat fight, right? Right? It was beta’d by @kittenofdoomage and gif made by me. Enjoy! -Part 1-
You felt someone shifting you into their arms and carrying you, but the hand that was stroking you was now scratching at your ears, so you remained with your eyes closed. Sam and Dean’s voices were surrounding you, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying. It sounded muffled and far away, like they were on a speakerphone across the room. The arms that were holding you deposited you onto something soft, and you drifted off, not feeling the cold metal of the shackle as it was fastened around your ankle.
The next time you woke, you rolled to your hands and knees and stretched, leaning down so your arms were out in front of you on the soft blanket and your ass was up in the air.
“Y/N?”
You turned around quickly and tilted your head when you saw Sam. It was then when you realized you were chained in the dungeon, and the shackle around your ankle jingled as you shifted towards him. Fear bristled inside you and you immediately got into a crouch and growled, trying to shake the chain off your right foot.
Sam said something to you, his palm facing you to calm you, but you couldn’t understand what he said. His lips were moving but you could only hear mumbled speech in a soft baritone voice. It sounded like the adults on the old Peanuts cartoons, and your eyes went wide. Opening your mouth to say something, you began to talk, but your words came out as squeaks, whimpers, and pathetic mewls.
Sam noticed when you began to panic, and he waved his arm to get your attention. Holding out both palms, he moved his hands up and down trying to placate you. Placing one hand on his chest, he took a deep breath, then pointing at you before doing it again.
Right, he was telling you to breathe and relax.
Nodding, you took a deep breath and tried to calm the animal inside you that was begging to be released. Part of you wanted to run to Sam for comfort, and another part of you wanted to drag him to the ground and tear his throat out. The internal battle between the logical side and the beast side of you was hard to contain, and when Sam began approaching you, you shook your head, afraid for his safety.
Sam offered an understanding smile and took a few steps back before he waved once more to get your attention. He raised his arm and used a finger to draw a circle above his head. When you raised a brow and tilted your head, he sighed and looked down at the ground, deep in thought. A few moments passed before he waved his hand again and pressed his palms together in front of him, closing his eyes, like he was… like he was praying.
Castiel.
Nodding, you smiled and tried to say the word Castiel, but it only came out as a growled squeak. Groaning, you slumped to the ground and rested your chin on your crossed front paws. The spell had definitely spread; you were now almost completely covered in fur and your entire body from the waist down was that of a cat. It was likely also the reason why you couldn’t understand anything besides your name. Looking up at Sam, you could feel tears stinging your eyes, earning a nod of sympathy from the younger Winchester.
Over the next twelve hours while you waited for Castiel to arrive, you continued to change. The human body parts that had remained before were completely gone, replaced by fur and the bone structure of a large cat. When that change happened, it was the most painful thing you’d ever experienced. Both Sam and Dean came running into the room at the sound of your painful roaring, watching as your human bones snapped and elongated, shifting to the anatomy of a feline.
You could hear them arguing, based on how loud they were and their tone of voice, but you could tell they both wanted to comfort you. It was too dangerous, though. The animal side of you was winning the war, and you were starving. The meat they were giving you could barely satiate your hunger, and you wanted nothing more than to break free of the chain the brothers had moved from your ankle to around your neck while you were sleeping.
When Castiel finally arrived, you were practically feral. You were now completely changed into a big cat, like a puma or lioness, and there was nothing human remaining now, only the soft voice of logic still in the back of your head. Dean and Sam had kept their distance as you continued to thrash against the chain and growl, snapping your jaws. The three of them spoke for a few minutes before Castiel approached you.
“Can you understand me?” he asked. You immediately stopped moving and calmed, sitting up on your haunches with wide eyes as you nodded, making him smile. “I know you can’t speak, but I can read your thoughts. Is that okay?”
“Yes. Can you hear me?” you replied in your mind.
“I can. Are you okay? Has the spell caused you any harm?” Cas crouched down in front of you and placed his hand on your head.
“No.” You closed your eyes at the warmth of his touch. “Changing into a cat was really painful, but I’m not in pain right now. I just can’t seem to control myself. All I want to do is kill the boys and eat them. I didn’t expect the spell to be this… potent.”
“I can see the spell,” Castiel murmured. “It seems to be feeding off the anger you were feeling toward Dean when you cast it.” Dean stepped forward and he said something, gesturing wildly at you. “You will, Dean. She’s going to be fine. The spell backfired and took root as a curse, making her not only become the animal she was trying to change you into, but a stronger and more revenge-driven version of that animal, feeding off primal instinct.”
Dean said something, smiling, and Sam slapped his arm before you turned your attention back to Cas. “What do I need to do?”
Castiel stroked the fur on your head and smiled. “Nothing, I will take care of it. Angels have a calming effect when they are in proximity of animals, but once I leave, you will return to your feral state.” He plucked some hair from your head and you grunted. “I will get started on the reversal.” As he was leaving the room, he plucked some hair from Dean’s head as well, making him yelp and you snorted.
Dean crossed his arms and pointed a finger at you, and although you couldn’t understand what he was saying, you know he was trying to scold you. Once Castiel left the room, you could feel the animal side of you begin to take over once more, and your claws scraped against the concrete floor as you raised up and lowered your head, glaring at the Winchesters.
You moved backward until your back paws were resting against the wall and you lowered yourself into a crouch. Sam’s eyes went wide in recognition and he immediately began running toward the door, dragging a very confused Dean with him. You pushed off the wall and sprinted forward, grinning when you felt the collar around your neck pull tightly before the chain snapped under the sudden pressure of your pounce.
Now free from your tether, you could only imagine Sam and Dean as two giant flannel covered paper balls that needed to be killed. Leaping forward, you gave chase, but Dean wasn’t able to shut the door in time, allowing you to swipe a paw at his leg as he scrambled around the corner of the doorway into the hallway.
Slithering through the slightly open door, you turned, just as the Winchesters disappeared down the hallway to your right, making you break out into a sprint, quickly catching up to them as they ran ahead of you. Both boys were yelling your name along with other things you couldn’t understand, but you continued to follow them closely, swiping your paw whenever Dean or Sam’s legs were within reach to try and trip them.
The brothers turned quickly down another hallway and you tried to twist your tail to change your direction and momentum, but your paws slipped on the smooth floor of the bunker, sending you sliding sideways into the wall. You slammed into the tile wall with a grunt and regained your footing quickly, sniffing the air to track your prey. Heightened sense of smell easily allowed you to follow the unique musky scent of the Winchesters, and you began galloping down the hallway to catch up.
Tracking the scent down a familiar hallway, you knew the brothers were headed for the front door. If they couldn’t trap you in the dungeon, they’d trap you in the bunker while Castiel worked on the reversal. The anger you were feeling began to burn like a wildfire, and you growled, picking up your speed. You had to get to them before they locked you in; you didn’t want to be fixed. While being a cat was strange, the feeling of freedom and power was addictive.
Coming around the corner into the war room, you snarled when you saw Sam and Dean at the top of the stairs fumbling with the door to the bunker. You were so wrapped up and focused on killing the Winchesters, that you hardly recognized movement coming from your right as you stalked closer to the stairs.
You pounced forward with a feral roar, but the last thing you saw was a tan trenchcoat and a red powder being blown in your face, followed by darkness.
The firm mattress against your back made you shift, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Throbbing behind your eyelids made you reach up and grab your head, and when you realized you felt skin and human fingers instead of a paw and fur, your eyes shot open.
“Hello, Y/N.”
Blinking, you turned your head toward where the voice came from, seeing Castiel sitting down in a chair next to the dresser in your room in the bunker. “Cas?”
“Yes. The Winchesters wanted me to stay with you since angels are a neutral species.” He straightened his tie and narrowed his eyes at you. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I was possessed by the world’s angriest cat,” you chuckled humorlessly, wincing when your head began to throb again. “How are Sam and Dean? I didn’t hurt them, did I?”
Castiel shook his head. “I was able to stop you from killing them. Barely, I might add. Luckily the spell reversal rendered you unconscious and you changed back into your human form shortly after we carried you to your bedroom.” You sat upright, looking down at your body clad in a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt. “Don’t worry, I was the only one with you when you changed back. Human nudity does not bother me, but I assumed you would want to be clothed. I apologize if I crossed a line.”
“No, it’s fine, Cas. Thank you. I’m glad you got here when you did, I don’t know what I would have done if I hurt the boys.” You frowned, looking down, noticing the handcuff wrapped around your ankle, attached to a chain that disappeared over the side of the bed.
Castiel noticed you staring at the chain and stood. “It’s just a precaution, we didn’t know if the spell would still be affecting your mind even after you changed back… but it appears that everything has returned to normal. Would you like to see Sam and Dean?”
You hesitated for a moment. Did they even want to see you? You tried to curse Dean and ended up cursing yourself and almost killing them. It wasn’t something that would be easily forgivable, but it wasn’t something you could avoid forever. “Yeah, Cas. Can you grab them for me?”
Castiel nodded and walked to the door, patting your unchained foot comfortingly as he walked past, shutting the door behind him. You moved up the bed so your back was against the headboard, and a few moments later there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” you said, and the door opened. When nobody came in right away, you leaned forward, but before you could speak again, a yellow paper ball sailed through the air from the open door and landed on the floor in front of your bed. Sighing with a groan, you rolled your eyes. “I’m not a cat anymore, guys.”
Dean poked his head in and smiled. “Just making sure.” He opened the door the rest of the way and you smiled at Sam as they both walked in. Sam took a seat on the edge of the bed and Dean sat down in the chair Castiel vacated.
“How are you feeling?” Sam asked, resting his large palm on your lower leg.
Nodding, you scratched the skin around the handcuff on your ankle. “I’m fine. No lingering need to kill you or -”
“Curl up in Sam’s lap and claw him until he pets you?” Dean finished for you, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips.
“No, Dean. No desire to be pet or chase paper balls or anything else cat-like.” You paused for moment and sniffled, looking up at both brothers. “I’m so sorry, guys. This really blew up in my face. I mean, I ending up trying to kill you all because I wanted to get back at Dean.” Glancing over at Dean, he was already staring you, an unreadable but hardened expression on his face.
“Y/N, it’s okay. I knew you were going to plan some kind of revenge against Dean, I could see it in your eyes when we were getting ready to leave the motel yesterday. I just didn’t expect you to use magic.” Sam glanced over at his brother and sighed, obviously sensing the tension in the air. “Alright, I’m going to let you two talk,” Sam said as he got up from the bed. He leaned down and kissed your forehead before whispering, “If you need me, just text me.”
“Thanks, Sam,” you replied softly with a nod. He smiled and then looked over at Dean, having a silent conversation with him for a few moments before leaving the room. When Dean let out an exasperated sigh and looked down at the floor, you raised a brow. “What, Dean?”
“S’not important,” he murmured. “I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve been acting. I didn’t realize it was having an affect on you.”
Scoffing, you crawled down the bed and sat on the edge, moving the chain still attached to your ankle out of the way. “That’s bullshit, Dean, and you know it. You’re going to sit there and tell me you had no idea that hearing you bang random women was affecting me? How many times have I begged you to come back to the motel alone and get some sleep? How many times have I shouted at you to keep it down? How many times have I had to sleep in the back seat because I got no sleep the night before?”
Dean had shrunken back into the chair, his eyes focused on his hands in his lap like a scolded child. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
“No, Dean. You did think, just not with the head on your shoulders.” Rolling your eyes, you kept talking, cutting off what he was about to say. “And another thing! I get that you need to blow off steam, but come on. You sleep with three times the amount of people that Sam and I do. I know you only do it after rough cases, which we’ve seen plenty of recently, but you shouldn’t whore yourself out like that, Dean. It’s not healthy.”
“I’m not a whore,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“Then talk to me so I can understand! Why do you do it?”
“Because it’s the one thing I can do that I can’t fuck up!” he shouted back. “We lost two teenagers on that last hunt, all because I couldn’t get there in time before that vampire snapped their necks.”
You expression softened. “Dean, that’s not your f -”
“Don’t you dare say it’s not my fault. I was the one who was sweeping the basement. I was the one who hesitated and couldn’t kill it in time. I was the one who had to watch those two kids have their entire lives stolen from them.” He paused to take a deep breath and unclench his fists. “I sleep with random townies because I know sex isn’t something I can screw up. I know how to do it, and I’m good at it. I can at least get that job done so everyone goes home happy.”
“Dean -”
“You know who isn’t going home happy?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small plastic rectangles you instantly recognized as ID cards. “Brandon Roberts,” he flipped to the second ID, “and Angelo Davis.” He tossed the cards on the floor to the right of your bed and you glanced down at them before looking back at Dean.
“You didn’t kill those kids.” He opened his mouth to interrupt you, but you held up your hand. “No, listen to me. You didn’t kill them. After you stormed out of the farmhouse, Sam and I checked the bodies. They had both been turned already, Dean.”
“The cure! I could have saved them!” he roared, standing from his seat and gesturing wildly.
“You didn’t know which one turned them! You know the cure is a one-and-done kind of thing, and if you don’t have the correct vamp’s blood, it kills them.” You saw his shoulders drop, but you continued. “You have to realize that the vamp killed them in front of you just to mess with your head. We would have had to kill them anyways, no matter what, so stop blaming yourself for something that was inevitable.”
Dean’s hardened and angry expression slowly faded into something that was akin to the look on a child’s face after they break their favorite toy. He was hurt, and you could see it now. The random sex was a coping mechanism for him. It was how he coped with grief, loss, and other things that can slowly consume a hunter’s mind.
“Dean.” When he didn’t look up at you, you sighed. “Dean, come on look at me.” He slowly lifted his head and you weren’t sure if it was the low light in the room, but you thought you could see tears brimming in the bottom of his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you blame yourself for things when they go wrong, and I’m sorry for overreacting and trying to curse you to get back at you. I just wish you would have told me, so I could have understood instead of thinking you were just an asshole who enjoyed really loud sex.”
Dean let out a wry laugh. “But I am an asshole who enjoys really loud sex, though,” he chuckled, making you smile. “I didn’t know he turned those kids, but I shouldn’t have hesitated and that’s on me. And before you interrupt and say it’s not my fault, I know. I know it’s not my fault and we would have had to kill them anyways. It just… it doesn’t make it hurt less, you know?”
“I know, Dean. Hunters deal with tragedy and loss every day, and if having sex with random women helps you deal, then that’s okay. Just make sure you’re being safe,” you playfully glared at him, “and try to get a motel room away from where I’m sleeping. And if you wanted, I can show you what I do to deal with stress, it might be something you’d enjoy as well.”
“Yoga and deep breathing?” he scoffed and you rolled your eyes with a small smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’ll stick to my booze, bacon, and babes… but thank you for the offer.”
“The offer stands if you ever change your mind,” you added and he nodded. “I’m just really glad you don’t hate me. I thought for the longest time you were being obnoxious on purpose because you didn’t want me hunting with you and were trying to annoy me until I left.”
Dean’s grin immediately disappeared and he vehemently shook his head. “No way. I, uhh, I actually thought you hated me, to be honest. You were always in a bad mood after hunts and wouldn’t talk to me… but now I guess I know the real reason why.”
“Lack of sleep can turn even the nicest person into a grouchy asshole,” you mused, wiggling your ankle to move the chilly metal to a more comfortable position.
Dean got up from his seat and came over to the bed, producing a small silver key from his jeans and uncuffed the restraint from your ankle. He sat down next to you and smiled. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted you to think I didn’t want you with us or not want you as a friend. How about we start over?” He held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Dean Winchester; monster hunter, pie eater, and lover of classic rock. Nice to meet you.”
You shook his hand with a smile, appreciating his sincerity. “Hi Dean, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Hunter, ex-cat, and good friends with the Winchester brothers. Nice to meet you, too.”
