#spncac

    Your limbs felt heavy against the wooden armrests of the chair, the witch’s lips by your ear, her whispers low and tickling your skin as she held your head against her mouth, the spell spilling from her lips. Your eyes were glazed over, the world tilting as you began to slip into unconsciousness.

    She had popped up out of nowhere. You and the brothers had been hunting a witch- a trickster copycat more like- when she had sprung up from the shadows, grabbing you before the boys could notice. And here you were.

    She was sly and downright annoying. She liked to pull pranks and trick people through her hexes. She turned a man into a potted plant, twins into a kit-kat bar and made one woman wake up as a man.

    Now as she whispered a hex into your ear, you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell you would turn into. Fear bubbled into your stomach as you tried to move away but found it near impossible just to raise a finger, your body feeling as though cement had been poured inside of you and hardened.

    “Y/N!” You heard Dean yell. His name was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t find your voice. The door to the room burst open just as the witch completed the verse, the redhead standing up straighter as the men rushed in. Dean’s eyes landed on you, his face going hard, nostrils flaring.

    “Hello, boys. I was just finishing up with girlie here,” She said moving your hair off your shoulders.

    “You bitch,” Dean growled. She scoffed.

    “Real mature, Winchester.” Her heavy Georgian accent was accentuated with each word, her voice dripping honey as she smiled at them. She was a looker, one of the many ways she lured her victims in; long red hair in ringlets hung to her waist, wide blue eyes and a bright smile highlighted by cherry lips. She was a young witch and Dean couldn’t help but wonder why she had gotten into messing with people in the first place.

    “What did you do to her?” Sam asked, worried hazel eyes locked on your dazed form.

    “Oh nothing yet, baby. I haven’t finished the hex quite yet. But she’ll especially like this one, I promise.” She moved around the chair, walking slowly towards the men. Her hips swung with each step, a seductive smirk on her lips as she made her way to Dean. They were both captivated by her, an almost siren power rolling off her in thick waves. Before they could react, she had blown purple dust into Dean’s face, giggling before dashing from the room. He grunted, falling to his knees as Sam took off after her.

    “Dean?” You murmured, finally coming out of the haze. He looked up at you, blinking and letting out a sneeze.

    “Yeah sweetheart.” He got up, shaking his head a bit. “I gotcha.” He helped you out of the chair. You wobbled a bit but stabilized quickly.

    A gun shot was heard in the distance and you and Dean shared a look. Sam came rushing in soon after, a small splatter of blood across his neck.

    “She’s dead.”

    ***

“I feel fine, Dean,” You said sighing. He ignored you, his hands lifting your chin, looking this way and that way, his eyes roaming every inch of your body for anything that could say you weren’t “fine.”

    “We don’t know what that witch did to you,” Dean said. “For all we know, you could be internally bleeding and we wouldn’t know it.”

    You furrowed your brows, glancing over at Sam who rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Dean, chill. She’s fine. The witch is dead. Whatever she hit you and Y/N with probably went away with her.”

    “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Dean murmured. He let out a deep breath, standing back up from his crouched position in front of you. “I just get worried.”

    “I know you do, baby,” You said, patting his cheek lovingly. “But I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”

    He kissed your forehead before collapsing on the bed, groaning as he sunk into the springy mattress.

    “Alright. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Remember- thin walls.” You laughed, nodding Sam farewell as he left you and Dean’s motel room, heading to his own.

    “You going to sleep?” You asked, changing into one of Dean’s t-shirts and climbing in with him.

    “Yep,” He grunted. He sat up, shrugging out of his clothes and laying back beside you, slinging an arm over your waist and pulling you close to his chest. You tilted your head up, his lips pressing firmly to yours.

    “I love you,” You whispered. He hummed, kissing your jaw.

    “I love you, too.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, sighing contently.

***

Your eyes fluttered open, a yawn escaping your lips. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled away from the body sleeping beside you, rolling out of bed. You stumbled a bit, feeling heavier than normal. Perhaps you had gained weight? You shrugged, not thinking much of it and trudged into the bathroom.

    You closed the door softly behind you, your hand running to smooth your long locks back away from your face. Your heart leaped when you felt the soft, short hairs upon your head. Whipping towards the mirror, your eyes- or should you say Dean’s eyes- widened, a strangled scream erupting from your throat.

    Somehow, you had ended up in your boyfriend’s body. Your now long H/C hair was short, light brown and spiked up by sleep like a hedgehog. Your E/C eyes had turned to a crisp leaf green, the flecks of gold you had loved inside his eyes now inside yours. A light coating of stubble graced your face, your hand coming up to rub over it, feeling the prickly strands against your larger, callused hands.

    “Dean!” You bellowed, his voice coming from your mouth. You walked back into the room, watching as Dean- or, you- woke up, E/C eyes blinking awake. Dean sat up, rubbing his face and squinting at you.

    He jumped into action seeing himself standing at the foot of the bed.

    “Son of a bitch!” He reached under his pillow, fumbling for the gun that wasn’t there. He cursed to himself, eyeing you warily.

    “Where’s Y/N?” He asked.

    “I am Y/N you jackass,” You growled, downright scary as Dean. “Take a look at yourself.”

    Dean furrowed his brows, scoffing. “Right.” You rolled your eyes- or- Dean’s eyes.

    “I’m fucking serious, Dean. I woke up in your damn body and you woke up in mine.”

    “What?” He got out of bed, rushing past you into the bathroom, a squeak falling from his mouth as he stared back at you. “How the hell did this happen?”

    “I uh…” You thought for a moment, eyes widening in realization. “The witch.”

    “Shit!” Dean grumbled, slapping his hand down on the counter. “I can’t be a chick. I can’t be… Shorter than you!” He turned to face you, your face staring up at you with a horror stricken expression.

    “Oh yeah,” You said smiling. “I’m taller than you now! Awesome!” You moved closer to him, almost a head taller than him now. You laughed loudly, placing your larger hands on his shoulders. “Who’s the tiny one now?”

    A knock sounded on the motel room door, the knob rattling as a key was being put into the hole.

    “Morning,” Sam said as he entered the room. He tossed his pair of room keys onto the small table, watching as you and Dean emerged from the bathroom. He noticed your horrified faces and he chuckled. “What? Is Y/N pregnant or something? Wait, are you? I have noticed your stomach has been a bit rounder.”

    “Oh wow. Thanks, Sam,” You said bitterly. His eyes flashed to yours.

    “I wasn’t talking to you. And you can’t get pregnant, moron,” Sam said.

    “Oh great. Now I can get pregnant,” Dean grumbled. His eyes widened, looking up at you. “Are you pregnant? Am I pregnant?”

    “What? No! And fuck you, Sam!” You said angrily. “That really helps a woman’s self esteem, her best friend saying she’s getting fat.”

    “Hey now. I didn’t say she was getting fat,” Sam said defensively. “And I wasn’t talking to you, Dean!”

    “I’m pretty sure you were saying she was getting fat,” Dean said. Sam’s look of utter confusion made you laugh. One that was quickly dissipated when Dean sent you a glare.

    “I didn’t say she was getting fat!” Sam said. “And why the hell are you talking about yourself in the third person?”

    “I’m not,” You said.

    “Yeah, she’s not. ‘The hell is wrong with you this morning?” Dean asked.

    “What the hell is wrong with you two this morning?” Sam said loudly.

    “You’re the one who called Y/N fat!” Dean said.

    “I didn’t call… Wait… What?” Sam asked.

    “The witch’s hex went through after all,” You said. “I’m Y/N.”

    “And I’m Dean.” Dean nodded, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

    Sam stared at the two of you in disbelief, his eyes flicking between the two of you. He looked like he was gonna scream.

    And then suddenly he laughed.

    A full body, throwing your head back laugh. You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched the youngest Winchester laugh his ass off at.

    “Oh my god. That’s fucking great,” Sam said, wiping a tear from his eye.

    “It’s really not,” Dean said.

    “Oh, it so is,” Sam laughed. “Isn’t your period due, Y/N?”

    You thought for a moment, a smile spreading across your face. “Holy shit, it is.”

    “What?”

    “You’re gonna have your first period!” You said slapping Dean on the back. He lurched forward at the force of it, a grunt escaping his lips.

    “No I’m not,” Dean said. “We’re gonna find a way to fix this. And fast.”

    “No, can’t we wait until next week?” You asked, sending a wink at Sam. He chuckled and shook his head.

    “Hell no!” Dean growled. You and Sam looked over at Dean, his face- or, your face- scrunched up angrily. Now you understood why the boys never took you seriously when you got angry. You were kinda cute.

    You and Sam burst out laughing, Dean rolling his eyes. He groaned then, his hand pressing to his lower abdomen, causing you and Sam to laugh harder.

    “It’s not funny!” He said.

    “It’s pretty funny,” you replied.

        ***

    The drive back to the bunker was awkward to say the least. Dean sat in the passenger seat as Sam drove, having to move the seat up too far in your body. You were incredibly amused. Although it affected the both of you, it was the best thing to have happened in a while.

    First, the waitress at the diner had hit on you. Which, of course, you weren’t interested in because of Dean, but he finally realized how you felt when girls would flirt with him left and right and he’d do it right back in front of you.

    Next, men addressed you more. Usually as a woman, you tended to not be noticed or addressed as much as the brothers. Your hand was always in Dean’s or his arm was always around your waist, and men would speak to Dean directly. It was worse when you three were working a case.

    “You sure you wanna go in there, little Miss?” “How are you supposed to go in there with heels? Why don’t you just wait out here?” “I’ll give you the keys, but I need to speak with you privately in my office.” It pissed you off, and when you expressed those concerns to Dean, he brushed you off, telling you that was silly, to man up. Heh, sure.

That’s rich.

It hadn’t been your idea for the two of you to switch bodies in the first place, but you wouldn’t deny it felt good to prove to Dean what you meant.

    You had to show Dean how to use tampons, which was a chore. He had complained through the whole process, and then refused to let you show him how.

    “Dean, it’s my body,” You had said. He had crossed his arms, staring defiantly up at you.

    “And for the time being, it’s mine and that’s just weird,” He answered.

    “That doesn’t make any sense! I’ve literally seen every inch of my body millions of times. Why can’t I show you how this works?” You had asked.

    “Oh my god, get out.” He had pushed you out of the bathroom, an amused smirk on Sam’s face.

    “I assume it didn’t go well?” He asked. You scoffed.

    “No.”

    For days, Dean had avoided you. It was getting quite annoying, honestly. He usually just locked himself in your shared room, making you sleep in your old room. The bed was too small for Dean’s body, and it started to piss you off.

    Sam found a reversal spell, and had left to get the needed ingredients, leaving you alone in the bunker with your boyfriend in your body.

    “Dean, open the door,” You called, knocking. He ignored you, like usual, but you just banged on the door harder. “I swear to God, Dean. If you don’t open this door, I will break it down.”

    Silence.

    Taking a step back, you raised Dean’s foot, kicking the door. Something snapped and you were able to push it open.

    “What the fuck?” Your voice exclaimed from across the room. You found him, clad in one of his t-shirts and a pair of your sleep shorts.

    “What the hell, Dean,” you growled. You stalked over to the significantly smaller body, towering over him for the first time. He craned his neck to look at you, jaw set. “I don’t know what your fucking problem is. I gave you space, I tried to help you. But you’re being a dick.”

    “Well, sorry,” Dean said holding his hands up. “You’re the one who got us into this in the first place.”

    Your brows raised. “Me?! It was the fucking witch, you dick! You think I wanted this?”

    “She said you would!” He shot at you. “Now leave me alone.”

    “Why are you acting like such a bitch?” You yelled. He glared at you.

    “I don’t know. Maybe being in your body, I picked up some of your tendencies,” He snarled. Eyes widening, you took a step back, hurt flashing across your face.

    He realized his mistake, his face softening. “Baby, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean-”

    “Go to hell, Dean… Again.” You turned and stalked out of the room, not in the mood anymore to break the news about the cure.

        ***

    You and Dean sat at the library table, a chair between the two of you, arms folded, sour looks on your faces. You were still pissed at him, and he hadn’t said a word to you since the earlier talk- which was normal now, you supposed, seeing as he rarely talked anymore anyway.

    You watched as Sam made the cure, carefully mixing each ingredient before dividing the gray liquid into two cups.

    “Alright,” he said. “Bottoms up.”

    Not sparing Dean a second glance, you snatched the cup, tossing it back quickly. The metallic taste took you by surprise and your shuddered.

    “Mutatio autem revertimini, quod est bonum novi.” Sam read the words as Dean finished his cup, face scrunching into one of displeasure.

    You flinched as your ears started ringing, your hands coming up to grip your head.

    “Jesus, Sam,” Dean said. “The hell did you do?”

    It all happened quite fast actually. Suddenly the pain had stopped, your eyes fluttering open to find yourself in a different spot then you were before.

    Looking up, you locked eyes with Dean, who was in his correct body. You narrowed your eyes at him, getting up from the table.

    “Thanks for the help, Sammy,” You said over your shoulder, stalking to your old room and away from Dean.

    You didn’t think you could contain your temper around him at the moment.

        ***

    “Y/N?” Dean called through the door. “Let me in, would ya?”

    You rolled your eyes. “Leave me alone, Dean.”

    “You’re acting like a child. Just open the goddamn door.”

    “No!” You said. “You can’t tell me what to do. Fuck off.”

    You heard a bang against the door. Dean must have rested his forehead roughly against it.

    “Come on, Y/N,” He said. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Really.”

    You sighed, getting up from the bed and opening the door. He stumbled a bit at the loss of support but quickly regained his balance, giving you a soft look.

    “I can finally look at you again,” he murmured, cupping your cheek.

    “I’m still annoyed with you,” You said. He let out a breath.

    “Come to bed?” He asked. You grumbled under your breath, flicking off the light and grabbing his hand, letting him lead you down the hallway into your shared room.

    “I love you,” He said as you turned away from him in bed. His hand found your hip, thumb rubbing softly on your exposed skin where the shirt had ridden up. He moved closer to you, pressing himself into your back, your body automatically curling into his. You could practically feel his smirk.

    “Shut up.”

    “I didn’t say anything.” He sounded amused.

    “You were thinking it.”

    “How could you possibly know that?”

    “Because I know you… And I’m smart.”

    He snorted. “Well, you’re pretty dumb to be with me.”

    “You got me there.”

    “Hey!” He laughed, tickling your side. You giggled, his lips pressing into the side of your neck. You could feel his smile against your skin.

    “I missed being able to touch you,” He said. You hummed, grabbing his hands in yours. He took a deep breath, tangling his legs between yours and resting his face in the crook of your neck.

    “Love you,” He murmured into your skin, lips tickling you.

    “Love you too,” You told him. “Even if you are a dork.”

    “Am not.”

    “Are too.”

    “Whatever.”

    You smiled, letting yourself finally fall asleep in his arms.

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Fluff Bingo Tags:

“Where are we even supposed to look, Sam? It could be anywhere in here.”

“I know exactly where to look.” He moves over to my dresser and pulls open the top drawer. His shoulders hunch when it squeals along the track, and I have to bite my lip to keep from giggling at the face I know he is making.

“How d’you know it's in there? You jus’ wanna go through her underwear drawer.”

“This is where she keeps secrets, Dean. And I know because I know things. I drink and I know things.”

“Okay, Tyrion, you don't even drink enough to say that. How d’you know where she keeps her secrets?”

“Tha’s my secret.”

I hear him rummaging around, the light on his phone on but not pointed at any specific place as he shifts things in the drawer, and I consider interrupting him, until I hear him gasp.

“Did you find it?” Dean’s whisper has become less of a whisper and more like a normal speaking voice.

“Umm, no, not yet. Just...gimme a minute.”  I hear whatever is in his hand hit the wooden bottom of the drawer, and then the sudden violent vibrating of plastic as it reverberates through the room. “Oh, fuck.”

“What the hell, man? Turn it off!”

“I don’t know how I turned it on! Shit!”

I can’t hold it in anymore, and laugh.  

“AH!” Sam screeches, and his phone flies out of his hand and nearly hits Dean in the face. “How long have you been awake?!”

I sit up and rub my eyes, blinking as Dean flips on the light, “Long enough to know you're both idiots.” I shift so my legs hang over the side of the bed, groping for my fuzzy slippers with my feet. I sigh contentedly when they slip into the soft, fuzzy material, then stand and shuffle  sleepily to my dresser. Sam snorts and I give him a not so scathing glare. “What?”

“Those slippers are ridiculous.”

“You're ridiculous. And also a liar,” I accuse as I reach into my drawer and switch off the offending noise maker, “because I know you know how to turn this off.” Sam’s jaw drops and Dean looks at him with a mixture of curiosity and offense.

“What's she mean by that?”

“S’nothing, she's just...she's just playing around.” He gives a nervous laugh and I grin.

“Oh, playing around is one way you could put it.” I wink at Sam and Dean’s nose scrunches.

“I don't like what's happening.”

“You don’t have to. Now, both of you take your drunk asses back to the living room, and pour me a glass of whiskey so I can catch up to you two assholes. Go. Now.” The two of them shuffle out of the room, and I dig around in my dresser for a tank top and shorts. I grab the contraband Sam was looking for and walk down the hall and into the living room, where Sam and Dean are talking in hushed whispers.

“What are you guys whispering about?”

Dean looks up, a glint in his eyes, “We were just wondering how often you slept with no pants on.”

“At least one of you should know that answer.”

Dean gapes at Sam again, “Seriously, dude, what is she talking about?”

I grab the glass of whiskey they had obediently poured for me and throw it back, grimacing at the burn, “If you can’t figure it out by now, sweetheart, you don’t need to worry about it. Now, let’s get me caught up so we can get to what you were looking for.”

“Y/N...I don’t think that’s how you make potato salad…”

I turn around and point the wooden spoon at Sam, flinging bits of potato in his direction. He flinches and wipes a piece of rogue tuber from his cheek. “My grandmother taught me this recipe, and it has been passed down for generations.”

“One...I don’t think potato salad has existed for generations, and two, I’m pretty positive no recipe includes honey.” I look back at the bowl and frown, then back at Sam.

“I don’t have any mayonnaise. Honey’s the next best thing.”

“That sounds wrong.”

I shrug, then give another squirt of honey in the bowl, “Sweet potato salad.” I snort and Sam rolls his eyes.

“That's not how that works!”

“Not how what works?” I turn to see Dean sauntering into the kitchen, one of the joints I had taken from the kid balanced loosely between his thumb and pointer finger.

“She doesn't have mayonnaise so she used honey instead.”

“Ha! Sweet potato salad!” I giggle and he takes a drag, breathing out slowly, sending a cloud of smoke directly into Sam’s face, “If you were higher, you'd appreciate our jokes more.”

“I don't think there's enough weed in this world to make me think your jokes are funny.”

“That’s harsh, Sammy. Here, have some more. Clearly, you have not imbibed enough.” Sam snatches it from Dean and wanders off, smoke billowing behind him. “Don’t smoke all of it, Jesus!”

“It’s alright, we’ve got more.” I go back to stirring the potato salad, reaching for the paprika.

I feel him walk up behind me, barely grazing my back as he leans over to see what I’m doing. “What was that earlier?”

“What was what?”

“You know, with Sam. The whole ‘you should know how to turn off a vibrator’ thing?”

I snort again, popping a potato into my mouth, “I think you know perfectly well what that was.”

He grabs my elbow and spins me around, “Yea, but what was that?”

I lick honey from my thumb as I look up at him, “Nothing. Sometimes I like to blow off steam.”

He groans quietly, pushing me against the counter, “You can’t say things like that when you’re licking honey off your fingers.”

“I can say whatever I want whenever I'm licking honey off anything I want,” I say with a wink. I lean closer, standing on my tiptoes so that my lips are almost grazing his. “You know what I think?”

“What?” he whispers, his hand resting gently on my lower back.

“You're jealous.”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?” he scoffs.

I turn back to the bowl of potato salad and grab some bowls and forks, “Omaha. Silk restraints. Magic fingers.” I look over my shoulder to find his normally tan face a bright shade of red. “One time deal, you said it yourself. ‘It'll be too weird, we were drunk.’ Do you remember saying that?”

“Well, yea-”

“Exactly. Sam and I have a casual, no strings attached arrangement. He doesn't think it's weird.”

“I'd bet he doesn't think it's casual and no strings attached.”

I roll my eyes and turn around, shoving the bowl at him, “Maybe not! But he doesn't think it's weird. And what we do is no stranger than you wearing my underwear and having me tie you up with silk ties.” He stares at me, his mouth open but silent. “I'm not high enough for this conversation. Can we please just go eat sweet potato salad and watch bad, made for TV movies?”

He nods, “Yea, sure.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen without another word.

I need more whiskey.

“What the hell did we just watch?”

“I think it was Sharknado 5.”

Dean tilts his head to look at Sam and I on the couch, “I hate both of you.”

“You didn't have to stay in here, you know.” I can feel Sam shift uncomfortably next to me and stifle a giggle. He frowns, knowing that I am taking great pleasure in teasing him.

“Yea, well, you seemed pretty sure we should all watch this movie.”

I shrug, “I thought you would enjoy it more. I mean, aren't you a fan of whatserface?”

“The blonde chick with the robot arm? Oh, hell no. Tara Reid lost her appeal after the first American Pie movie. Nope, gross. Although I will say, the Hoff being able to function after that cheeseburger video is pretty impressive.”

I let my hand creep up Sam’s leg and stop at his thigh. He clears his throat, “Well, I think it's time to, uh, go to bed.” He shifts, but stays seated, his obvious need to be somewhere else thwarted by his even more obvious reason as to why.

“Yea,” I agree, my hand slipping even further, gently palming him through his jeans, “it's time we go to bed I think.” I grab the whiskey bottle with my unoccupied hand and relinquish my hold on Sam as I stand up. “One for the road?”

Dean stands up and stretches, his shirt pulling up to show off a little span of tan skin and fine hair trailing from his belly button to just under the edge of his jeans. I can feel the heat crawling up my cheeks as I stare, and he chuckles.

“You done?”

I clear my throat, “Quite.” I hold out the bottle to him and he shakes his head.

“Nah, I think I'm gonna cut myself off this time. You okay to get to bed?”

I nod, “Yea, yea, I'm good. I am gooood.”

He smiles and shakes his head, “Alright. G’night, guys.” He stumbles away, turning the corner and disappearing into the dark hallway.

“You are the worst.” I look over to see Sam stand up, the reason for his discomfort obvious as I stare at his bulge. I take a giant swig of whiskey, and sway a little as I look up at him.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I dunno, fondling me and then immediately checking out my brother is on the list, I think.” He steps closer, towering over me as he tries not to smile.

“You aren't mad?”

“Nah, I guess not. You aren't my girl, anyway.”

“I’m...I’m not?”

“I heard you talking to Dean. Just a casual way to blow off steam?”

I duck my head, “I...you...I'm sorry…”

He tucks his knuckle under my chin and forces me to look up at him, “I didn't say anything to tell you otherwise. No need to be sorry.” He drops his hand and it lands on my hip, his thumb rubbing the exposed skin between my tank top and the elastic band of my shorts. “You can do whatever you want, I just hope I'm allowed to be in on it every once in awhile.”

“Can we do whatever I want right now?”

Instead of answering, he dips down, his lips crushing mine as he pulls me into him. I can feel the heat radiating off of him, and he practically crushes me in his arms. His tongue traces the crease of my lips, gently parting them so that we can explore each other. This isn't the first time this has happened, but something seems different. It's more desperate, like there's something more to lose if we go through with it this time.

“Sam…” his lips move down my neck, sucking and leaving marks as his hands move down to grasp my ass. His mouth moves back up, nipping at my earlobe, and I gasp as his voice, deep and rough from the alcohol, rumbles against my ear.

“Did you want to do something else?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

I press myself against his denim clad bulge, wiggling my hips and making him moan, “What do you think?”

Suddenly, my feet aren't on the floor anymore and I squeal, wrapping my arms around Sam’s neck and my legs around his waist as he strides quickly through the bunker. I take the opportunity and begin running my fingers through his hair, kissing along his neck and along his jaw. He stops suddenly, pushing me against the wall and holding me there, “If you don't stop, we aren't going to make it to my room.”

I grab the hem of my shirt, balancing against him as I pull it off and toss it to the floor. The look in his eyes changes; the playful glint is replaced with dark lust. His hand snakes between us, rubbing against my clothed mound as he kisses me again, all teeth and tongue and quiet moans.

“We should...we should go to your room now,” I manage to moan out, my hips thrusting to meet his hand.

“You mean, you don't want me to fuck you in the hallway? Afraid Dean might see?” I let out an involuntary whimper; the thought of Dean catching us is more appealing than worrisome. “Not afraid...you sound like you want him to catch me fucking you out in the open.” If my panties weren't wet before, they're absolutely soaked now.

He pulls back to look at me, his eyes narrowed as he contemplates what he wants to do. “I could eat you out right here, but if he caught us, maybe I'd have to share.” His hand slips up the leg of my shorts, and under the elastic of my underwear. I gasp as one of his thick digits pushes inside of me and he begins moving it slowly. “On the other hand, if the thought of that gets you so turned on-”

“Just take me to your room, Sam. Please…” my voice is barely above a whisper, but he smiles at how wrecked I sound. He isn't wrong; the last few times this happened, it was sweeter, gentler. I don't know if it's the alcohol or the weed, or a combination of the two, but this...I don't have words for this.

Then he starts walking, and it's then I realize that his hand is still in my shorts, and he's still pushing and pulling, in and out, every step he takes adding to the thrust of his hand. My arms wrap tightly around his neck and the thought occurs to me that not only is he strong enough to hold me up with one arm, he's also coordinated enough to keep fingering me while high and walking down the hallway. Add that to the list of things I didn't realize was such a turn on. A drawn out moan escapes me and he chuckles, a low, throaty laugh. “We aren't going to make it past Dean’s room if you do that.”

Then he stops, dead in the hallway. Fuck.

“What...what are you doing?” Dean’s door is closed, and Sam’s eyes are trained on it like a beacon. Without a word he turns so that my back is towards it. “Sam…”

He pulls his hand from my shorts, then rips them off in one fluid motion. I hear his belt clinking and can feel his knuckles brush against me as he undoes his pants, shimmying them down so he can kick them off. He pushes me against the door and the wood is rough against my bare back.

“I’m going to give you what you want.” I gasp as he nudges my entrance, “But you have to be quiet.”

“I don't think-”

“Oh, you will,” he practically growls as he pushes further into me, “because I don't think I'm ready to share just yet.”

I bite my lip to keep from crying out as he bottoms out, my eyes wide. He takes a deep breath, as if he's trying to control himself, then slowly begins to thrust again. He switches which arm is holding me up and puts his free hand on the door to steady himself. Just the sound of his heavy breathing is almost too much paired with his slow, dragging pace and I clutch at his shoulders, my head falling back against the door with a quiet thud. I flinch, but Sam doesn't seem to notice as he ducks his head down to kiss along my collarbone, nipping and sucking his way along my neck and up to my jaw.

His lips drag along the shell of my ear, his breath hot as he whispers, “Do you think Dean knows we’re out here?” He pulls out almost all the way, “Do you think he is picturing what you look like while I fuck you?” He punctuates his question by slamming back into me, pushing against the door so it doesn't rattle in the frame. I can't answer, afraid that if I do, I'll be too loud. “You aren't answering. Do you think he knows,” he pulls out again, “that I'm fucking you,” he slams back in, grunting quietly into my shoulder, “right against his door?”

I can feel the coil tightening, his motions and the picture he's painting pushing me closer and closer to the edge. “I...I don't...maybe…” I can't form a coherent sentence, not the way he’s dragging in and out of me, and my head drops forward, resting against the soft flannel shirt he's still wearing.

“If he does know, if he can hear us,” another deliciously slow thrust, “I'd bet he’s getting off to it. Imagining what you look like, how you bite your lip, how it feels to be surrounded by your warmth. I know I've thought about it more than once, spilling over my fist in the shower…”

That's all it took. The fire deep in my belly bursts into flame, consuming me as the coil snaps. My teeth sink into Sam’s shoulder, hoping that his shirt is thick enough to muffle the loud cry that is involuntarily leaving me. His thrusts quicken, but his hips start to stutter and I hold onto him, riding him through his own release as he groans out my name.

He pulls back and looks at me, sweat trickling down his temple and towards his neck, and smiles.

“You are the worst,” I giggle whisper, and he shrugs.

“You like it.” He starts walking towards his room and I start laughing.

“Sam, put me down! You're leaving my clothes!”

He keeps walking, his grip tighter so I can't wiggle free, “I'm not finished with you yet.” He kicks the door open to his room, then shuts it with his hip. “You can get your clothes later. You won't be needing them for awhile.”

I can't say I'm unhappy about this turn of events.

I wake up, my throat dry and my body aching for some sort of refreshment. I slide out from under Sam’s arm, and grab his shirt off the back of the chair where it had landed earlier. He groans and rolls over, and I stare at him for a moment, taking in his long form as it stretches the full length of the bed.

I sneak out and leave the door cracked behind me, then turn towards the kitchen. Before I can take a step, a hand covers my mouth and I end up pressed against the wall. I have somehow managed to forget everything I know about self defense in my half asleep state, and only manage to weakly slap at the arm holding me against the wall.

“Shh, it's me!” The hand disappears from my mouth, and I glare at my would be assailant.

“Dean, what the hell?!” I give him a playful shove and he grins, his moss green eyes glinting in the low light of the hall.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask the same of you! I’m thirsty, I'm getting a drink.”

He shrugs, “I’m hungry, thought I'd get a snack.”

“Oh, well, then we can go together.” Suddenly, he's standing far too close, and I realize how little clothing I'm wearing.

“Not exactly the kind of snack I was thinking about.”

“W-w-what do you mean?”

He takes another step, and his body presses against mine, “I think you know exactly what I mean.” He fingers the buttons on Sam’s shirt, his eyes roving from my face to where it's hanging open down to the third button. “You expect to just fuck right outside my door and not expect consequences? Seriously?”

“We thought you were asleep!”  I rush out, panicked.

“I'm gonna stop you right there. Sammy knew damn well I wasn't asleep, and, even if I was, do you really think you were being that quiet?” His hand slips under the soft fabric and he squeezes my breast, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “I could hear every little moan and whimper that was coming out of you. Not like I haven't before, but knowing you were just on the other side of that door…” he trails off and brings his gaze back up to meet mine.

“Listen-”

“I get it, you and Sam. I'm not blind, I can tell. But I also know neither of you have done anything about it, and I owe Sammy some payback.” He leans down and wraps his lips around my nipple and I can't help but groan; his tongue is sinful, and he hasn't even done anything yet. His tongue swirls around the pebbled skin, and I can feel goosebumps run down my arms and legs. He lets go with a quiet pop, and puts his forehead against mine. “You've gotta be quiet, that's the rules.”

“Then how’s Sam gonna know?” I draw a sharp breath as Dean’s hand wanders under the hem of my shirt, his fingertips brushing along my wet entrance like a feather.

“Oh, he’ll know.” His fingers move up and down, the rough pads gentle against my sensitive skin. With each pass, they move a little deeper, but then he pulls back, his thumb barely grazing my clit as he plays, his forehead still pressed against mine.

“Dean…” We shouldn't do it...but he's right. And honestly, the way his fingers feel against me right now, common sense isn't playing a part. “Please…” He slips one finger inside, curling and twisting it while he pushes in and out, and suddenly his mouth is on mine, swallowing the moan I can't hold back.

He tastes like whiskey, and his five o’clock shadow is rough against my face. It's one of those delicious burns, and I open my mouth for him, our tongues meeting as he explores. It's different than kissing Sam, almost softer, but there's a hidden edge I can't quite put my finger on. I nip at his bottom lip, and it's his turn to groan into me. He pulls away and smirks, then drops to his knees in front of me.

“What are you doing?”

He raises a brow as he looks up at me, “Do I really need to answer that question?” Both hands are under my shirt now, and he pushes my legs further apart. He ducks under my shirt, and I cry out as his tongue drags along my folds, working in tandem with his fingers as he adds another one. “I said,” he mutters against me, sending vibrations to my core, “you've gotta be quiet.”

I drop my head back against the wall, my chest heaving. He laps at me, making happy little grunting sounds as he moves. I can already feel the warmth building in my belly, and I bury my fingers in Dean’s hair. “I'm not gonna last much longer, Dean,” I whimper. He lifts one of my legs and puts it over his shoulder, and the change of angle nearly pushes me over right then. He sucks my clit into his mouth, his fingers pistoning in and out, and then suddenly the world goes black. He doesn't stop, and I tighten my grip on his hair, riding his face as a second orgasm rips through me.

I finally relinquish my hold on him and he drops my leg, standing up so that he's still up against me. I'm pretty sure it's the only reason I'm able to still be upright.

“You alright?”

I nod weakly, “I would say I'm more than alright.”

“Good.” He backs up and I walk to Sam’s door.

“So you're okay with-” my thought is interrupted when I see Sam, sitting up in bed, the blankets pooled around his waist. “Sam? Did you hear…?”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, and his muscles ripple down his back as he shifts. He stands up, and it's very obvious that he heard us. “What do you think?” He walks closer to me, seemingly oblivious to Dean standing right behind me, “One Winchester not enough?”

“Listen, man, it's my fault. It wasn't her idea-”

Sam’s gaze shifts from me to Dean, and the older Winchester, in a surprising turn of events, stops talking. “It's alright, if that's what she wants…” He reaches out, his fingertips brushing the buttons like Dean’s had done only moments before, “Is that what you want? Both of us?”

What is happening? “I...I don't know…” My mind may not know the answer, but my dripping cunt does. I squeeze my legs together, trying to find some sort of friction, and Sam notices the movement.

“I think you do know.” He fingers the buttons some more, as if contemplating what he should do with this information, then slowly begins to pop them open. He slides the shirt apart enough so that just a small part of my breasts peek through, and my mind is racing. The look on his face, the slow, calculated movements...it's Sam, but it's not, and for some reason it's one of the hottest things I've ever seen.

He looks back to Dean, his expression softer than earlier, and, though I can't see his brother’s face, I know they're doing that silent conversation thing reserved only for those close enough to understand it. He nods, then looks back at me, the corner of his mouth turned up. His hand traces up the edge of the shirt, his fingers slipping under it at the shoulder. He carefully slides it off, pushing it down my arm, and his other hand repeats the motion on the other side. The shirt slips off and hits the floor, and he takes another step towards me. I can feel his arousal pressing against my stomach.

Suddenly, his lips are on mine, desperate and hot. There's no gentle exploration this time; his tongue pushes its way against mine hungrily, and his large hands grip my bare ass, pulling me roughly into him. He bites at my lip, pulling gently before letting go and traveling lower, planting sloppy kisses along my jaw and down my throat. He spins me around so that my back is against him, one of his hands roughly cupping a breast while the other travels between my legs, spreading me apart as Dean watches.

“You're already so wet, Y/N...wet, and warm, and tight.” Dean gives a strangled groan as we lock eyes and Sam plunges inside of me, two fingers moving in and out as his thumb rubs my clit. “What do you think? Should we let Dean in on this, too? Say the word, and we won't. It's up to you.”

I can't think, not with his rough fingers dragging in and out, and the obscene noises they’re making as he continues his ministrations. “Y-yes…” my wrecked voice is quiet, but they both hear me. Sam walks backwards with me as Dean follows, needlessly shutting the door behind him.

He turns so that I'm facing the bed and he pulls himself free. I look over my shoulder in time to see him lick his fingers clean, slowly and deliberately, and my mouth drops open; this is a Sam I've never seen, and I can't say I wouldn't like to see him again.

He steps out of my line of sight, and I feel a different set of hands running down my back, gripping my hips before traveling to the globes of my ass. He turns me to face him and Dean’s eyes are dark with lust. “How do you feel about me going first, sweetheart?”

I finally find my voice as I grab his belt buckle, “I think you're wearing too many clothes.” I make quick work of it, and, as he shimmies his jeans down his legs, pulling his boxers with them, it seems like everything is going in slow motion. This is going to change things, major things, and I'm left wondering if any of us are ready for it. Then Dean is pulling off his shirt, tossing it to the side, and suddenly the moment is over and I feel everything ten fold.

Dean gives me a gentle push backwards and the backs of my legs hit the bed. I plop gently onto it and shimmy backwards as he stalks towards me, like I'm some kind of prey. He grabs my ankles, smooths his hands up my calves and up to my knees, then pulls my legs apart. His fingers trail up my thighs, brush past my aching core, and move up to hips as he positions himself between my open legs.

“I think it's time we get to the main show, don't you?” he asks with a smile, and I can feel him, hot and heavy, against the inside of my thigh. He reaches down and strokes himself a couple of times, then slowly eases in.

I gasp, and, though he's not quite as big as Sam, it's still enough to burn as I adjust to his size. “Oh...Dean…”

Despite being filled by Dean, I still can't help but wonder where Sam is. I roll my head to the side and find him sitting in his desk chair, legs sprawled and dick in hand as he watches, his eyes narrowed as he focuses on me. Dean starts to move, slow but deep thrusts that pull my attention back to him. “How's that feel, huh? Feel good?”

“Mmhmm...so good.” He looks down at me, his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves, and I would give him anything in that moment. Absolutely anything. I grab the backs of my thighs and pull my knees closer to my chest, and he goes even deeper.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, you're gonna kill me…” he moves my hands out of the way, replacing them with his own, and pushes, spreading my legs further apart as he bears down.

I roll my head again to look at Sam and see that he's mesmerized by the way my tits are bouncing, stroking himself in time to every move. I reach up and start plucking at my nipple, grabbing a fistful of tit as I roll my stiff bud between my fingers. When he finally looks up and meets my eye, a look is all it takes.

He quickly moves from the chair to the bed, kneeling on the floor by my head. Despite his roughness earlier, he smooths the hair from my face, kissing me deeply and swallowing the moans coming out of me as Dean continues to thrust, then moves down and captures my nipple in his mouth.

“Sam...fuck…” He bites gently, flicking his tongue in time with Dean, while still stroking himself. “Dean...I need...can you…” I can't form a coherent sentence, not with both of them touching me, but he seems to understand.

“Flip over, sweetheart,” he pulls out and lets my legs drop, and I roll over onto my belly. He grabs my hips and yanks my ass up, teasing my entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Dean, please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me, and quit teasing.”

He laughs, and I nearly come the moment he slams back into me. He's not as gentle this time around, picking up speed as he nears his own climax. I look at Sam and lick my lips, and he understands immediately what I want. He stands up, dick eye level, and I wrap my lips around him. Each thrust Dean gives causes my mouth to go further down his shaft, and he groans when he feels himself hit the back of my throat.

He grabs a handful of hair and begins practically fucking my face, and for a moment all you can hear is the pornographic sounds of skin slapping skin, muffled moans, and the wet sucking of my cunt swallowing Dean’s dick.

“I'm gonna come, Y/N,” Dean grinds out, his rhythm faltering as he gets closer. Sam pulls away from my mouth and steps back, and I look over my shoulder at him. “Come with me, I wanna feel it.” He reaches around and starts rubbing my clit, and I start pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts with my own.

“I'm so close, Dean, please...don't stop…” He slams into me two more times and I'm done for. I come, hard, and Dean grabs my hair as he spills inside of me, growling and cursing under his breath. He pulls out slowly, and I collapse onto the bed, unable to hold myself up anymore.

I feel the bed shift as Dean stands up, and then again when Sam slides in next to me. I open my eyes to see him looking at me, his hazel eyes like sunflowers. I smile and he tilts his head.

“What?”

I shrug, “Just...you have really pretty eyes.”

Sam smiles back, a genuine smile that I rarely get to see, “I think we've sexed you into madness.”

I shake my head, “Not possible. I've still got at least one more in me.”

His hand slides across my thigh, and he dips a finger along my folds. “As wet as you are, I'm not sure there's enough friction for you to even enjoy it,” he says with a laugh, pressing his thumb to my clit.

I arch my back and close my eyes as his thumb makes lazy circles, “You'd be surprised.”

He props himself up on his elbow, looking down as his hand teases my entrance, a finger dipping in and back out, tickling my clit and moving down. I open my eyes to see Dean walking towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Uh, well, I thought my part here was done, so I was just gonna go back to my room.”

“I want you to watch.”

“What?”

I wiggle my hips against Sam’s hand and sigh, “You heard me.”

“Okay, then.” He moves to the seat Sam was just occupying and sits down. Sam settles in on the other side of me so I can see Dean and continues what he was doing. Dean watches with hooded eyes, and I roll my head so that I can see him better. Despite just getting off, he's already half hard again.

Sam slips a finger inside me, and I groan, never losing eye contact with Dean. His cock twitches and I can tell he wants to touch himself. I nod, and his hand wraps around his dick. Sam adds another finger and I can't concentrate on Dean, all I can feel are his two large digits pumping in and out of my wet cunt.

“Sam, that feels so good,” I mewl, breath catching at how full I feel. “Lay on your back.”

“You sure?”

I nod, and he rolls over so that he's laying on his back instead of his side. I reach down and stroke him, though he doesn't need much help at this point. I plant a knee on either side of him, then line him up and sink down. I take a minute to adjust to his size.

“Oh my God, Y/N. You feel so fucking good.”

I laugh as I begin to rock back and forth, “We just did it a little bit ago!”

“I don't think I'm ever going to get used to how amazing you feel. Fuck…” I add some bounce to my gyrations, and glance at Dean, who is watching my every move as he strokes himself. Sam's hands grip my hips and I know there will be bruises in the morning; in all honesty, I kind of hope there are.

“Shit...Sam, I need more, please.”

He plants his feet on the mattress and begins fucking into me as hard as he can. I lean back on my palms, aching for a final release. Dean is watching me hungrily, his eyes on my tits as the bounce with each thrust. Must be a Winchester thing.

“C’mere, Dean,” I pant out as Sam’s thumb finds my clit again. “You're almost there, aren't you?”

“Fuck...yea…” he walks over to stand next to me, and I suck him into my mouth, twirling my tongue around his head as Sam pounds into me. Dean buries his hand in my hair, grips it as I move, and it's like Sam can't stand the thought of sharing me. He moves faster, lifting me almost off his cock before slamming me back down on it. I add a hand to work with my mouth and Dean cries out, a strangled moan as he comes in my mouth, hot and thick. “Holy shit.” His voice is wrecked, but I don't have time to respond. The build up I've been feeling finally hits the edge of the cliff and I'm about to fall off of it.

“Sam, I'm so close…ohhh, I'm going to...I'm coming, Sam!” My legs tighten against him and I clench around him as he also comes, milking him of every last drop. After the high of it wears off, I roll off of Sam, sighing at the sudden emptiness of him pulling out. He puts his arms around me, and though he's like a furnace, I can't help but hold onto him.

Dean sits on the edge of the bed, “Well...that just happened.”

I smile sleepily, nuzzling into Sam’s side, “Yea, it sure did.”

“Are you okay?”

I nod, “I'm not sure my legs work anymore, but who needs legs?” Both of them laugh, and it gives me hope that tomorrow won't be weird.

“We can always carry you around.”

“Mmmhmm…”

And then I'm asleep, lulled into sweet dreams against Sam’s solid form and the sound of the two brothers quietly talking.

I wake up to Sam’s large body curled around mine, his hand cupping my breast gently as he sleeps. I smile, happy to wake up with him beside me, then look around to find the room is empty besides us; Dean is gone. I carefully slip out of Sam’s grasp, and take a shirt from his dresser. As I'm slipping it on, I trip over one of his boots and hit the floor. I curse under my breath and wait for him to ask if I'm okay, but he is still passed out. Surprising, for a hunter, but after last night, not unexpected. I gather myself and limp out of the room, making a mental note to make a place just for shoes.

The bunker is quiet, and the kitchen is empty when I get to it. I shuffle around, regretting not wearing my fuzzy slippers, and put the coffee on. I pull out the toaster and toss a couple of pieces of bread in, then lean against the counter and wait for both things to finish.

“I smell coffee.” I look up to see Dean in the doorway, hair sticking every which way and eyes half closed.

“You do. Do you want toast to go with it?”

“Pie. I want pie.”

I laugh and nod my head towards the fridge, “There's still some apple in there, have at it.” He makes a happy grunt and detours towards the fridge. I pour a cup of coffee for both of us, butter my toast, and move over to the table to eat. Dean sits down in front of me and proceeds to eat the pie straight from the pan.

“Dean, listen-”

“I know, I should have gotten a plate, but I'm hungry and it's my turn to do the dishes so I don't really want to-”

“No, that's fine, I don't…I don't care about that. I meant about last night.”

“Oh. Yea, right.”

“It was great.”

“Yea, it was.”

“But…” I stir my coffee again, staring at the way the creamer swirls in the darkness of the bitter liquid, “it can't…we can't do that again.”

“Mmm.”

“It's just, it’s Sam, Dean. It's always been Sam. And I love you, I do, and you are good, but it just...it can't happen, okay?”

He sits quietly for a moment, and the euphoria I felt last night is gone. It should have never happened; the major change is coming right now. Not later, now, and I'm not ready for it. Then he looks up and smiles.

“I know it's Sammy. You two have been dancing around it for ages. I get it. Can't say I regret last night, but I understand.” He picks my hand off the table and brings it to his lips, kissing the top of it gently, “You're an amazing woman, and you and Sam...shit, you guys are perfect. I also can't say I'm not a little jealous, but I'll get over it. You deserve each other, you know?”

We’re interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Sam is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching as Dean drops my hand like it's burnt him.

“I, uh...I gotta go.” He stands up to leave then grabs the plate of pie, “I'm just going to take this with me. And then it's my turn to do dishes and laundry so, uhhh, if you need me, I'll be doing chores. For the rest of my life.” He disappears around the corner and Sam walks over to the coffee pot.

“Sam…”

“What?” He pours a cup of coffee, then leans against the counter as he drinks it.

“About last night-”

“Yea, I get it. Can't happen again. It's fine.”

“Sure, but that's not exactly what I was going to say.”

He sits his mug down a little too forcefully, then crosses his arms across his chest, “Listen, it's fine. When I woke up and you were gone, I knew. I'm not surprised that Dean got the girl, I just figured after last night-”

“Are you jealous?” I ask with a nervous laugh, and he frowns.

“You aren't my girl, so there's not really any reason to be jealous, right?”

I stand up from the table and walk up to him, putting my hands on his crossed arms. “What if I want to be your girl, though?”

His expression softens, “Do you?”

“Of course! I told Dean that as much fun as last night was, you are the one I want to be with. I love Dean, but not like that. You're the one I want to be with.”

“Really?”

I nod, “Really.”

He pulls me into him, wrapping himself around me and I sigh happily. He kisses the top of my head, and I smile up at him.

Maybe this isn't going to be so complicated after all.

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After I had gotten dressed, I met them in the library.  “So, Steve, you’re Dean’s brother? I didn’t know he had a brother. But let me tell you this,  if you ever try to get in the shower with me again, I will shoot you where you stand!” 

The younger Winchester frowned at me. “My name is Sam. We have been dating for three years, Y/N. I’ve taken lots of showers with you.”  He turned to Dean.  “What are you thinking, witch?”

“You think I’m a witch?” I responded, highly offended.  “I hate witches!”

“No, not you, Y/N!” He answered, rubbing his face tiredly.

Dean nodded.  “Maybe.  Let’s go check her stuff for hex bags. Y/N, why don’t you come help us?”

“Sure!” I said enthusiastically. “So who is your friend? Boy, he sure is tall!  Did he sleep over?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s Sam. S-A-M.”

“I can spell you know,” I told him sarcastically. “I’m not an idiot!”

Dean, this other guy who just showed up out of nowhere, (which I thought was pretty weird, but Dean didn’t seem concerned) and I looked through all the stuff in my room.  We didn’t find anything so we decided to stop and have some breakfast.  Dean made pancakes.  

“So Stan, Have you been friends with Dean long? I don’t remember him mentioning you.” I was trying to make conversation with the new guy. He just sighed and ate his cereal. “Dean, why didn’t you tell me you had such cute friends?”

“It’s Sam.” The brothers said in unison.

“Okay, we need to figure this out.  This is going to drive me nuts.” Dean stated emphatically.

“How do you think I feel? My girlfriend doesn’t even know my name!” Sam complained.

“You have a girlfriend, Seth? You should bring her over. I’d love to meet her!” I told Sam, flashing him a winning smile.

“YOU are my girlfriend, Y/N.  YOU.  WE are a couple.” Sam told me in a raised voice.

“Jeez, Sal. You don’t have to yell. I’m not deaf!” I turned to Dean. “Your guest seems a little grumpy!”

This went on for two days. Finally, in desperation, Sam called Rowena.  “She doesn’t remember me at all. Just me. She doesn’t know my name, or that we are dating, or that I’m Dean’s brother.”

“You are his brother? No way!” I said in a surprised voice. “Dean, why didn’t you tell me you had a brother?”

“I see what you mean,” Rowena commented. “It’s a memory spell. Her memory of you has been completely wiped away.”

“Can you fix it?” Dean asked.

“Of course I can”.  Rowena said confidently.  “I’ll perform the counter-spell, and when she wakes in the morning, her memories of you will be restored.”

It was getting pretty late and suddenly I was very tired so I said goodnight to Dean and his friend. He’d sure been hanging around a lot lately.  I think his name was Scott or something.

When I woke up it was very early in the morning. For some reason, I was back in my old room. I had no idea how I had gotten there. I got out of bed and padded down the hall to the room I shared with Sam. I slid into bed next to him and wrapped my arms around him for warmth.

“Y/N? Are you okay? So you know me?  What’s my name?” Sam asked me, instantly wide awake.

“I know you’re older than me, Sam, but you still have some time before dementia sets in,” I said sleepily, yawning hugely.

His arms tightened around me. “I love you.” He said with relief.  It was over.

“Love you too, you big weirdo,” I whispered before I dozed off.

“What did you just say?”  Dean asked.  You glanced behind you as he stepped into the room and shook your head.

“I didn’t say anything.”  You replied innocently as you sipped on your third cup of coffee that afternoon.

The three of you had been hunting in a small town near Myersville and had finally deduced that the strange events around town were the result of a witch.  Now all you had to do was figure out who it was.  You kept thinking that the first witness, a clerk at the supermarket, seemed a little off but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“I think you are right.”  Dean told you, sitting down at the table across from his brother.

“Right about what?”  You asked him.

“The clerk.”  He answered.

At first he surprised you and you watched him out of the corner of your eye, wondering if you had said that aloud.  After a moment, you shrugged your shoulders, convinced that you had mentioned it earlier in the night and it was just coincidence that you had been thinking about it then.  You sat down and opened your laptop, ignoring the conceited smirk you saw on Dean’s face.

The three of you looked through the files you had and a few old newspaper articles.  As the evening wore on, Dean grew more and more restless.  Although it wasn’t uncommon for him to become bored and irritated doing research, this seemed different.  It caused a few glances between you and Sam, but neither of you said anything.

“Stop!”  Dean shouted, pushing himself away from the table and standing up, his hands pressed to the side of his face and his eyes squeezed shut.  “Just stop.”  He repeated, calmer.

“What is wrong?”  You asked concerned.

“I’m not crazy, Sam.”  Dean barked instead of answering you.

“I didn’t say anything, Dean.”  Sam told him innocently.  He glanced at you and you simply shrugged.

“No, but you were thinking it.”  Dean argued.  He sighed and grabbed his car keys, marching out the door.

“How did he???”  Sam asked, looking at the door and then back at you, unable to finish his question.  You shook your head and got up to follow Dean outside.

Dean was sitting in the driver’s seat of the impala, keys still in his hand and his head resting on the steering wheel.  You opened the door and slid in next to him without saying a word, just watching him.  He looked so guilty, and you knew something was up, but you weren’t sure what it could be.  Dean started to chuckled and leaned back away from the steering wheel.

“Don’t you wonder why I think you are right about the clerk?”  He asked you quietly.  “I mean, we never really agree on anything when we are on a case.”  He added.

You thought about it for a moment, remembering a lot of heated discussions.  “I always thought you did that on purpose just to rattle me.”  You accused, rolling your eyes.

“I know, and I usually do.”  He admitted. 

“Ok, shoot.  Why do you believe me?”  You asked.  Dean turned in the seat so he could face you.

“Because ever since we were there this morning, I’ve been able to hear what people were thinking.”  He told you.

“Be serious, Dean.”  You told him, annoyance in your voice.  Dean just waited a moment, quietly watching as the curious parts of the day slipped their way out of your memory.

“There you go.”  He said, nodding as you turned back to him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“All day?”  You asked and he nodded.  “Everything?”  You practically whimpered.

“I especially like that song you kept singing in your head when we left the police station.”  He smirked, raising his eyebrows as you felt the heat flow up into your face.  “Baby you can drive my car.”  He teased, wiggling his shoulders from side to side.

“Shut-up!”  You shouted, punching him in the shoulder and hiding your face as he laughed.  “I can’t believe you.”  You muttered into your hands.

Dean reached out and pulled your hands away from your face.  “Come on, that’s not the worse thing I’ve learned today.”  He told you.  “You should have heard what that waitress was thinking at the diner.”  He told you, shuddering.

“I figured you would love to hear what women think.”  You teased him.  Dean shook his head violently.

“Trust me, there are some things that should remain a mystery.”  Dean told you.  “Especially when they are about my brother.”  He added, and you threw your head back in laughter.

“Serves you right.”

“Yeah, I know.  It was fun for a while, but when we were sitting there at that table inside, I heard both of you at the same time.  The words you were reading, your thoughts about the case, all of it.  It was like being in a crowded bar, only I’m the only one that could hear it.  I couldn’t think.”  He explained.

“So, what do you say we go take care of this witch and you can get back to normal.”  You offered.

“Gladly.  Just…do me one favor?”  He asked. 

“What is it?”  You asked, pausing.

“Can you just not think anything?”  He pleaded, scrunching up his nose. 

“That’s a promise.”

+++

Read more from my Masterlist here

Tags: (let me know if you would like to be added or removed)

@just-another-busy-fangirl @imagining-supernatural @aubreyreadsstuff @jensen-jarpad @your-modern-shakespeare @wildfirewinchester @jpadjackles @wonderfulworldofwinchester @akshi8278  @tamtamlov @aubreystilinski  @wildatheart15 @notnaturalanahi @underestimatemethatwillbefun @chelsea072498 @mogaruke @mamapeterson @19agbrown @adoptdontshoppets @lifelovelaughangell123 @iamabeautifulperson18 @thewinchesterchronicles @rainflowermoon

The thing is, though, you sucked at baking. No matter how many different recipes and ingredients you tried or how many YouTube masterclasses you watched you could just never get it quite right. Either the frosting was too sweet, you used baking soda instead of baking powder or vice versa, or your cake layers stuck to the pans, something always went wrong. However, you were determined for this one to be perfect, because you refused to just buy a store bought one, it just wasn’t the same. Over your year spent with Jack you got to know his likes and dislikes pretty well and like a certain pie-loving hunter you knew Jack loved sweets, his favorite was nougat but close second was chocolate.

Since you had no clue how to incorporate nougat into a cake you went with the latter. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting-simple right? Not. Currently you were trying to get your stand mixer under control while it viciously beat your butter and eggs, the contraption like a centrifuge that you had no idea how to slow down-why the fuck was the dial on the back of it?! Just as you finally switched it off you felt a winged presence hovering behind you. Turning, expecting Cas’s face you were surprised when it was Jack worriedly staring at the mess you had made.

“Jack! I thought you went with the boys on that haunted shop case?” Dammit Sam and Dean! You wanted to surprise him when he came back with them from the hunt. Jack just gave you a sheepish smile, his shoulders slumping slightly,

“No, Dean said I had to stay back because the shop was ‘Adults Only’ and I apparently don’t fit that description.” You muffled your cackle with a cough-no wonder Dean insisted of going to scope out the place before close. Although noticing Jack’s disappointed stance you felt somewhat irked that they left him behind on his birthday; maybe they didn’t even realize Jack was turning one today.

“What are you doing?” Jack’s question cut through your irritation and you suddenly remembered the mess at hand.

“Well, I was trying to get this mixer to work with me instead of against me so I can get this batter combined,” Picking up a wet rag you lightly scrubbed the counter around the bowl so that your area was clear of the residual dusting of flour.

“Baking? What’s that?” The inquiry caught you off guard, you had forgotten that Jack still lacked a lot of common knowledge about everyday at home life due to the life you all lead. He never had a mother to make cookies with for the school bake sale or a father to help cook dinner on a school night...and he never would. You gave him a small smile, hiding your somber thoughts; today was not a day for sadness it was a day of celebration-and since Jack was left behind on the hunt it just looked like you would be the one he hung out with on his birthday.

“So you know how you love cakes and cookies and all those sweet treats?” Jack nodded, a spark in his eyes, “Well all those thing have to be made and cooked, that’s what baking is.” The fascination that glimmered in his eyes was the same look as when Sam taught him lore or when Dean finally showed him how to clean a gun. An idea sparked in your head, “Actually, I could use some help-maybe you can? I’m having the worst time with this mixer.” Jack beamed and nodded excitedly, waiting for further instructions. “Would you mind getting out a large bowl from that cupboard? I’ll get a hand whisk so we don’t have to deal with this asshole machine.”

So you both started, it was surprisingly fun. Somehow Jack cracked every egg perfectly just by watching your demonstration, he didn’t enjoy the actual mixing though since he lacked the patience to stir the ingredients together for so long. Instead you set him about greasing three cake pans and pouring in the ingredients the recipe called for; you purposely chose not to warn him about the flour and had a laughing fit when he dumped it into the bowl and it exploded into his face. After assessing the only damage was to his shirt he laughed with you, and you were surprised when he retaliated by spraying you with water when he was washing his hands of the powder. After a short break for a food fight you were both covered in flour and water and the cakes were in the oven while you got to work on making the frosting.

The bunker door slammed open followed by Dean’s voice shouting down the stairs, “We’re home!” in a mock sing-song voice. A little while later the two hunters popped into the kitchen, puzzled looks on their faces. “Woah. What tornado flew through here while we were gone?”

“Ha-ha, Dean. I asked Jack to help me bake since you both abandoned him for what I’m assuming was a satisfying hunt?” You gestured to the plastic bag Dean gripped in his hand, slightly hiding it behind his side. He shot you a sheepish smile before handing the sack off to Sam and scurrying off. You sighed, and noticed the time, “Jack, I got it from here, how bout you go wash up?” He nodded and followed the same path Dean took out of the kitchen.

The buzzer beeped and you hurriedly took the pans out of the oven, setting them on a cooling rack. Sam set the bag on the counter and you grimaced, “Sam, I don’t want whatever perverted thing you bought from that sex shop on the kitchen counter next to my cakes!” He gave you a confused look before the boys’ earlier excuse dawned on him.

“No! Oh-god, no, Y/N, There wasn’t actually any hunt. Dean and I went out to pick up some stuff for Jack’s birthday, since we knew you always celebrate this stuff anyway and he’s had a tough year...so...here,” Sam dumped the contents of the bag onto the counter and revealed streamers, balloons, noise makers, and even party hats. There was a beat of silence while you took in all the party decorations and then you wrapped Sam in a warm hug, so happy they were finally on board with you. You couldn’t cover up the cheshire cat grin while you excitedly directed him on where to hang everything. Then you set to work on assembling and frosting the cake.

…

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JACK!!!” The boisterous declaration shocked Jack and he jumped back in surprise before taking in the brightly colored streamers and balloons strewn around the dining room and the huge crookedly hung banner that read Happy First Birthday!!! Dean and Sam each gave Jack a sentimental hug and motioned him towards the table to sit down. You entered through the kitchen door carrying a giant birthday cake with a large lit ‘1’ candle on top and all three of you began singing an out of tune rendition of Happy Birthday. Jack’s eyes were wide with bewilderment as the song ended and you set the cake on the table in front of him.

“Wh-what’s all this?” He gasped out in wonder, staring at the cake with a furrowed brow.

“You’re officially one year old today, Jack! It’s your birthday and we wanted to celebrate; you’re family. Now blow out the candle, make a wish! It’s tradition,” You excitedly pointed at the candle on the cake, but Jack took a moment to look around at each of you, his eyes glimmering with an emotion you had never seen on him before. He closed his eyes, murmuring to himself and sucked in a long breath, then quickly blew as hard as he could to put the flame out. Smiling triumphantly he turned and opened his mouth to exclaim his wish but Dean stopped him.

“Not so fast hot shot, can’t tell us what you wished, then it won’t come true; birthday rules,” Dean shot you a playful wink and patted Jack on the back, admiring the cake, “I do have to say, Y/N, this cake looks amazing! You should have Jack help you bake more often, then maybe more food would be edible.”

“Hey! Rude!” You teased back, and came forward to slice the cake to serve. However, Jack stopped you.

“Wait…This is what we baked?” He looked astonished at the final product, even though it was slightly off kilter it was delicious-you had tasted some scraps to make sure. You nodded to answer his question and started cutting, placing a large piece on a plate and handing it to him. Much like Dean he scarfed it down. When he was done he leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile curved at his lips, “That is the best thing I have ever eaten!” The awe in his voice filled you with pride and you offered him seconds since there were only the four of you there. Just as you sliced off another piece a loud swoosh sounded and suddenly Castiel appeared sitting at the end of the table, and exhausted look on his dirt covered face.

“Nice of you to show up Cas,” Dean greeted. Cas glared at his friend and hefted a gallon pale onto the table, breathing out an exasperated sigh.

“I got the ice cream. Happy birthday, Jack.”

A Few Tags

Rules:

You do not have to be following me to join, but it would be awesome if you did! 

I will be allowing 3 to a prompt. (You may also do MORE than one prompt if you wish.)

Fic MUST be crack, but may contain other genres (as mention above).

Any member of TFW (2.0) ONLY. RPF is fine. (Why? Because they are my leading men!)

AUs, A/B/O, are welcome! (Please, no crossovers with other fandoms.)

Female reader/Mutual reader x TFW (2.0) member ONLY! Reader inserts only. No ships. (I ONLY read reader inserts, otherwise, I won’t be too interested.)

One Shots, Drabbles (minimum 300 words), and the Beginning of a series are Okay. Max words: 10,000 (yeah, I went there. So you wordy sons of bitches better get in line. LOL. - seriously, I’m sure no one will exceed 10,000... i think.) USE the “read more” feature if your fic exceeds 500 words. 

Warn your fics accordingly, and include the appropriate disclaimers. 

Mention me, @squirrel-moose-winchester in your authors note, so that I can receive the notification and read your awesome writing! If you can’t tag me, because that has been a thing recently, hit me up in my messages and let me know that you’ve posted, also please include the link.

Tag, #Supernatural Crack Attack Challege, #SPNCrackAttackChallenge, or SPNCAC, or all of the above in the first 5 tags. 

DUE DATE: October 19, 2018 (my birthday), LATE EXTENSION: October 31, 2018. 

PLEASE contact me if you need more of an extension or need to drop out. There will be no hard feelings. Life happens. I’ve been there.

I will be reading, reblogging, and commenting on every entry! As well as making a masterlist :)

If you are interested in joining, please send in my ASK Box which prompt you are interested in. Also send in a back up prompt just in case your first choice is already filled. Mention of your pairing is not necessary. (Why? I tend to want to change my mind all the time, so with this, it gives you the choice of changing characters if you want. Sometimes the flow of your fic may match a different character/person.) ALSO! PLEASE enter, not only the numbers, but the prompt itself in your ask. It’ll just be easier for me. 

SINGAL BOOST!! Please? With Dean’s freckles on top?

Have fun and get creative. I hope this will be a challenge for all of you, but I also hope that it’s not too challenging. I know we all have our stronger points when it comes to writing. Like for me... angst is so hard!

Prompts:

Switching Bodies - @mellomish @theworldiscolorful @waywardrose13

Attire Malfunctions

Drinking/Drunk - @hannahindie

Curses/Spells/Potions (and the like) - @a-winchester-fairytale @storytimewithylva (@wingedcatninja) @bamby0304

Clumsy - @hollygopossumlovesj2 @waywardmoeyy

Innuendos - @rideandwritethings

Accidents

Disguises/Undercover/Costumes - @thatfanficstuff

Time Travel - @time-travel-bouqet 

Awkward Moments - @evansrogerskitten

First Encounters

Temporary Memory Loss @winchesterprincessbride

Getting Caught - @curly-haired-disaster

Allergic Reactions - @deans-jiggly-pudding

Epic Fails

Alternate Universe - @jo-yo

Jack Asks Questions (because he’s still learning, ya know?) - @myinconnelly1 @rubynationwins @sculptorofbeginnings

Singing/Catchy Tunes - @spnbaby-67

Pick Up Lines - @bamby0304

Kids/Old People - @samslittlespoon

Sexy Time

Flirting/Getting Hit On - @waywardbaby

Misunderstandings/Misheard Words

Parties/Games - @and-we-are-all-dead

Fear/Scared/Surprises

Karma

Animals - @winchesterwolf30

Nakedness