#spncrackattackchallenge

After you figured out that the case had involved a witch, it was a little too late. She was on the three of you the second you got into town, and the instant Dean drank the potion she worked her own magic before getting the hell out of Dodge.

Now Sam was off, hunting with Donna, trying to track the witch down. You, though, were stuck with Dean, who was stuck in the weird dog state the potion had put him in. For three days now he’d been sniffing your butt and humping your leg non-stop.

Lying in bed, trying to get to sleep, you were jolted awake as Dean bounded onto the bed, plopping himself next to you. Groaning, you turned your head to see him kneeling over you, a dopey grin on his face.

Is it just me… or is he getting worse?

“Breakfast?” he asked eagerly, smiling like a damned fool.

“Sleep,” you countered, rolling back over to try and do just that.

But Dean wasn’t having it. He nudged at your shoulder with his hand, over and over. He whined a little too, shifting around the bed to the other side so he could meet your face again. When you cracked an eye open you saw him looking at you with puppy eyes that rivalled his brother’s.

Damn…

“Fine!” Sighing, you threw the blankets off you and got out of bed. Dean happily followed, keeping barely a step between the two of you as you both headed into the kitchen.

The cabin was pretty much one big room. There was a living area with an old fold-out couch that creaked if you moved too much. The bathroom was off to the side and very small- smaller than a lot of the motel bathrooms you’d suffered through. A fireplace a few steps away from the dining area, and a small kitchen with the essentials- including food that you’d brought here once it was decided Sam would head off to hunt down the witch with Donna.

You were grateful that Dean was at least walking like a person, but there was a bounce in his step that wasn’t usually there. Dean seemed a lot happier being like this.

Fixing up the two of you some bacon and eggs, you dropped the two plates onto the dining table, once again thanking whoever was listening when Dean took a seat across from you. Again, you thanked them when he picked the food up with his hands before stuffing his face. You weren’t sure you’d be able to handle him eating like a dog...

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. For the most part, you stuck to the cabin, much like you had since Sam went off. TV distracted Dean like it usually did. When Sam called to check up on the two of you Dean eagerly spoke to his brother, telling him all the ‘fun’ things you’d been doing- dog-Dean was a lot like a child. When the cabin got too stuffy you headed out to a nearby park.

Following a path from the cabin and through the woods, you came across a small park that was part of a national woodlands. The place was empty, thanks to it being a school day and in the middle of a chilled Winter afternoon. That meant you and Dean could run around and play fetch without any weird, accusing or assuming glances from others.

Time flew, and after four hours of playing and running around you called it a night. You sent Dean back to the cabin while you started the short trek to a nearby roadhouse to grab some burgers for dinner. He was exhausted from all the exploring and running he’d done, while you were exhausted just from watching him.

One of the great things about being with Sam and Dean meant that if you went to diners, roadhouses, bars or cafes the sleazy men that frequented those places usually left you alone. Unfortunately, though, with Sam gone and Dean acting oddly, you were left to defend yourself as you headed into the roadhouse.

Less than thirty seconds after you passed the threshold, you could feel the linger gazes of a few men, two of which turned to each other to whisper. You had absolutely no doubt they were talking about you.

Great.

Sighing, you moved to the counter, resting your forearms on it as you leaned forward and waited for someone to serve you. They didn’t get there fast enough.

“Hey sweetheart,” a man passed the middle-age stage slid into the seat next to you.

You cringed at his use of the word ‘sweetheart’. Dean and only Dean could call you that. But you couldn’t make a scene, not if you wanted food, so you decided to ignore him as you continued to wait.

“Gettin’ some dinner, sweetheart?” he asked, and you literally cringed this time, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “I got something you can-”

Maybe it was because you’d been stuck babysitting Dean for the past few days? Maybe it was because you hadn’t had to deal with scum like him in a while? Either way, you weren’t having a bar of it.

Spinning on your heels, you turned to give him a tight smile. “Dude, if I wanted whatever it is you’re offering I would find someone who isn’t going to make me want to throw up. You stink like three day old stale beer breath. You haven’t showered in about a week. Your beard has got leftover crumbs that look like they’re close to getting mouldy. And your clothes scream hobo. Why would I want to touch you? Please, explain this to me.”

He gawked at you, mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to respond but didn’t have the brain capacity to manage it.

“Exactly. So, please kindly fuck off.” You turned back to the counter then, smiling sweetly at the server who was watching with wide eyes. “Two burgers and fries to go, thanks.”

When you returned to the cabin, Dean was all over you. Sniffing and whining, following you so closely he was actually pressed against you as you headed to the dining table. You tried to shoo him away, once, twice, three times, but no matter how many time you scolded him he was right there, still up against your back.

Sighing, you turned to him. “What has gotten into you?”

He leaned in, sniffing at your shoulder. “I can smell a guy on you.”

You tensed. First of all, it was probably bad that Dean could actually smell someone on you. Secondly, you were really hoping you wouldn’t have to tell him about the sleazebag at the roadhouse. But that can of worms was well and truly open now…

“It’s fine,” you assured him turning back to the table to pull the food out and set it down. “Just some sleazebag who thought he was the shit. Turns out he’s just shit. Full stop. So, can we eat? ‘Cause if we keep talking about him then I’m gonna hurl.”

Relenting, Dean did as you asked and took a seat at the table. He watched you as the two of you ate, though. There was a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite read, but you didn’t pay it much mind. All you wanted was some food in your belly, a hot shower, and then a good night’s sleep.

Curled under the blankets of the fold out bed, you were fast asleep when you were woken by the feel of the blankets being lifted, the bed dipping and the creaking sound that followed.

Turning, you watched Dean as he settled himself down next to you. In that moment he looked more like his usual self than he had since taking the dog potion. He just laid there, with his head on the pillow as he watched you with those green eyes that made your heart swell.

In the past, the two of you had enjoyed each other’s company but never on an intimate level. You’d joked about it, hinted at it, contemplated it, but neither of you had actually done anything about it. Over the last few days you’d think you’d be seeing him in a different light, but he was just too happy for you not to fall more hopelessly in love with him.

“Did that guy upset you?” he asked out of nowhere.

You frowned, confused. “What guy?”

“The sleazebag.”

“Oh, right.” You shrugged. “Not really. He was gross, but I can handle myself.”

“I know.” He smiled at you sweetly, reaching out to brush your hair out of your face. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”

Everything froze. You blinked, waiting for his words and their meaning to dawn on him. But he either didn’t get it or didn’t care. He just kept watching you with that unreadable expression.

“Is this the dog in you talking?”

It was his turn to shrug. “Probably.” When your eyes fell, trying to hide the disappointment in them, he went on, “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Lifting your gaze, you met his.

“I think about you a lot. These last few days have been perfect, ‘cause I’ve just been able to hang out with you. Going out to have fun at the park. Watching TV with you in bed. You’ve cooked me bacon and eggs every morning. It’s been great.”

“Dean,” you sighed. “That’s the kind of stuff dogs get excited over. Spending time with their owner. Going for walks. Cuddles. Food. Everything you just said… it’s what dogs like.”

“Yeah, but I like it too,” he noted.

“That’s ‘cause you are a dog right now.” You grinned at him.

As much as you wanted him to have feelings for you, it was pretty clear he didn’t feel the way you did. That was okay, though. You didn’t expect him to like you. He didn’t have to. It wouldn’t change things. You were happy just being friends.

“Come on.” You gave his chest a pat. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow I’ll make you some more bacon and eggs, ‘kay?”

He perked up at the promise of more food, before he nuzzled into the pillow. You were fine with him sleeping in the bed with you, knowing it was just because he was a dog and wanted you close by. You didn’t mind. It didn’t mean anything.

Sam better get back soon...

As you stood by the stove, cooking the last of the bacon you had, Dean walked up behind you. It wasn’t odd for him to look over your shoulder to watch you cook. His lips would pout with curiosity, his chin would rest on your shoulder, and he’d just watch.

But there was something different about today. After his admission last night you felt a little jumpier. It seemed he was feeling a little odd as well, because unlike the other days you’d cooked for him, this time his hands came to rest on your hips.

You jumped as soon as he touched you, bumping into the stove which quickly had you pushing back. As you did though, you found your backside bumping into something else…

Tense, you turned your head to meet his gaze. “What is that?”

Instead of answering you, he turned his head into your neck and breathed in. “You smell incredible this morning.”

“New shampoo?” you offered as a lame explanation.

“No,” he groaned, the sound coming deep from his chest. “You smell like me.” His grip on your his tightened as he stepped closer, pressing himself against you more.

This time there was no mistaking it. What you’d felt before and what you were feeling in that moment was definitely not his gun.

Part of you knew you should back away. Dean wasn’t himself, and when you thought about it he could be getting affected by the pheromones from your upcoming period. But then there was the other part of you- that could have been tied to said hormones- that didn’t want to pull away. A part that had wanted Dean to want you for far too long. A part that refused to let this opportunity pass.

This is wrong. This is so very, very, very wrong…

You ignored the voice in your head, choosing to enjoy the moment and regret it later. Eyes fluttering shut, you let him rock into you as he breathed in the smell of you.

Rutting against you, Dean’s grip tightened. “Want you.”

“The food will burn,” you noted on a breath.

That made him pause and pull back for a moment. You whined, much like he’d been for the past few days, wanting him pressed against you once more. But as he reached around you and turned the stove off, you understood completely.

With no more excuses being offered, Dean grabbed your arm and tugged you away from the kitchen area of the room. You let him lead you over to the bed, and let out a surprised yelp when he shoved you in front of him and pushed on your back. Your hands flew out to rest on the bed to keep you from falling as you felt him behind you.

“Dean!” you gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Want you,” he repeated simply.

But as he started to tug on the hem of your pants you found some remaining sanity and quickly spun around to face him. “I get that, but you can’t just push me around and pull my pants down.”

“Why not?” He took a step closer to you as he sniffed the air. “You liked it. I can smell it.”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you tried to come up with an explanation or excuse to shrug his words off, but you couldn’t come up with anything. You couldn’t come up with a good lie. He wasn’t wrong. You had liked it. Dean getting a little rough and demanding had played on your dormant hormones, and now you were practically drenched between your thighs.

That didn’t change anything, though.

“I get you’ve got dog brain right now, and it’s tell you to bend me over and fuck me senseless. I’m not saying that doesn’t sound nice,” you started, making him grin and step closer as his hands found your hips once more, “but why don’t you treat me like a person first?”

He paused, as if that hadn’t occurred to him. Then you watched as confusion and shock crossed his face. “I… I should kiss you, right?”

You chuckled, nodding at him. “It would be a good start.”

Lips tugging up into one of those dopey smiles he’d been wearing the last few days, he leaned in to press a kiss to your own smile. It was like a cliche movie moment, with bells, fireworks, and fluttering butterflies. His lips pressed to yours and everything felt right.

The chaste and sweet moment didn’t last long, though. It seemed kissing you affected Dean more than just smelling you had. His grip on your hips tightened as he stepped closer to grind himself against the front of you. But it wasn’t enough.

“Now?” he breathed against your lips, nipping at them. “Please?”

You tensed. “Are you… are you begging?”

“Would it help?” he asked, still rutting against you as he moved to nip and nuzzle at your neck.

“It would be creepy,” you noted.

But he just shrugged, countering your point with one of his own, “I’m about to bend you over and fuck you because this dog potion has got me all kinds of hard and horny. This was creepy days ago.”

Well, he’s not wrong...

“Please, let me turn you around, bend you over, and fuck you.” He bit at your neck then, tugging at the skin with a light snarl, and that’s all it took.

Spinning on your heels, you let him push you down as he pressed himself against your behind. You closed your eyes and groaned a little, fisting the sheets of the fold out couch as he quickly worked at pulling your sleeping shorts down. The two of you were still in your pajamas, which made it easier to undress than if you were in your usual layers and jeans. Dean was in sweats… well he was. Now they were around his ankles.

Thankfully, he didn’t just push right into you. No matter how turned on you were, you still needed some prep work, and despite the dog potion working its magic on him Dean seemed to remember you were still very human. So, instead of doing what you knew he wanted to, he ran his fingers along your folds.

Jumping at the feel of his calloused fingers against your soft lips, you moaned. He groaned right along with you as he dipped two of his fingers inside, pushing them in slowly until they were buried to the hilt. There he stayed, with one hand pressed on your back and the other pressed against you.

Neither of you spoke. You were too focused on drowning in the feel of him inside you, while Dean was too far gone into his new animal instinct to form words. But you didn’t need to speak in order to understand each other.

Each stroke of his fingers was an eager promise, vibrating with the desire to have you properly. When you leaned back into him you were encouraging more. The groans, grunts, moans and whimpers that spilled around you drove your needs higher until Dean couldn’t take it anymore.

Once he was sure he’d worked you open enough, he removed his fingers, lined himself up and pushed into you.

You fell forward, forearms now pressed to the bed as he started to thrust. It wasn’t the usual thrusting you were used to. Dean was more eager, more desperate, more animal, and it was complete and entirely hot.

Grasping at the sheets, you held on for dear life. He didn’t just thrust or fuck, he bucked. He held your hips and went wild as he pushed in and pulled out of you frantically. He was, quite literally, humping you. He made noises that resembled the ones you heard on the National Geographic. There was very little man in him as he thrust bruisingly into you.

When he leaned in closer and hunched over you, he reached a new angle inside that you’d never felt before, and that’s what pushed you over the edge. With a broken scream and drawn out whine, you came. Picking up the pace, losing some of the rhythm as he got a little more frantic, Dean howled as he followed you into his own orgasm.

Out of breath and completely satisfied, the two of you fell onto the bed with him still inside you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close and nuzzle your neck, Dean quickly fell asleep, and it didn’t take long before you drifted off as well.

Dog Dean was eager and always ready for more. Not just more food, or more play time, but more of you. After you’d woken up you’d wallowed in guilt for all of two seconds before Dean had started kissing your cheek all over. That’s all it took to make you smile and push the guilt away for now.

For the rest of the day you did what you’d been doing since Sam had left, but now Dean would pause every now and then to kiss you all over much like a dog would lick. You’d laugh and push him away, grinning widely as he’d happily bound off to do whatever you were doing at the time.

That night you slept together, in both the literal and metaphorical sense. It was just as animal as before, and left the two of you exhausted. It was really no wonder you slept in the next day.

“What the hell?”

Bolting up in bed, clutching the sheets to your body, you found yourself staring wide eyes at Sam as he stood in the doorway of the cabin, looking from you to his brother. Dean roused from his sleep with a groan, blinking at you for a moment before he spotted his brother.

“Dude!” he quickly covered you with more blankets, not caring that he was also naked and on full display.

Sam’s hand shot up to cover his eyes as he turned away with a grimace. “Really, guys? You thought now would be a good time to work out your unresolved sexual tension and unrequited love issues?” he groaned.

The brief moment where Dean had been a little more human than dog was over. He looked to you and blinked, not having a response. You rolled your eyes and threw the blankets off you, reaching for one of Dean’s flannels.

“Get dressed, Dean,” you ordered, and without missing a beat he did exactly that. “It’s not like this was planned, Sam,” you hissed, pulling on your sweats before starting on the buttons of the flannel. “And don’t you dare judge. You’ve done some nasty shit, too.” You glared.

He just huffed in response.

“So, you’re back. I assume you found the witch and killed her?”

“Yep.”

“And did you find a way to reverse Dean’s… issues?” you asked as you glanced at the older Winchester who had stopped getting dressed to scratch his ear, pants half way up his legs. “Clothes, Dean,” you reminded him.

As Dean continued to dress Sam nodded, still covering his eyes and facing away from you. “Yeah, I got a recipe for a potion from Rowena. After we killed the witch Donna helped me look through her stuff to find some tricky ingredients. I can make it here.”

“Good.” You quickly pulled your hair out of the flannel top with a sigh. “We’re dressed now.”

There was a pause before Sam turned to peek through his cracked fingers. Seeing that you were both in fact dressed, Sam lowered his hand and gave you a pointed look. But he didn’t say anything. He knew better.

Dean was sitting at the table, watching you with that dopey smile. You couldn’t help but blush and smile back, averting your eyes every now and then. Sam was at the kitchen counter, finishing up the potion, ignoring you and his brother.

You knew there was a chance that at the end of this Dean would regret everything, and could end your friendship. But you weren’t going to let that ruin the moment while it was still around. You were going to enjoy this for as long as you could. You weren’t going to waste any time you could have with Dean.

Unfortunately, that time was now up.

Sam placed a cup of mud-like sludge in front of his brother. “Drink up.”

When Dean continued to smile at you, you gestured to the cup. “Go on.”

Smile slipping into a look of curiosity, he looked down at the cup. If Dean was really himself he would have cringed at the thought of having to drink something so gross. But Dean was a dog, and dogs didn’t care what they had to eat. So the sludge was gone in a matter of seconds.

If he doesn’t hate me we are so not kissing until he brushes his teeth.

“It might take a while before it kicks in,” Sam noted. “Could make him drowsy, too. You wanna stay here, or head back to the Bunker?”

“You brought the truck back, right?” you asked and he nodded. When Dean started to blink slowly you shrugged. “Take him home. I’ll clean up here and head back later.”

Not asking any questions or making any comments, Sam did what you said. He helped his brother up and lead him outside, grabbing his bag on the way. You stood and moved to watch, catching Dean’s eye as his brother guided him into the car. Standing in the doorway of the cabin, you didn’t look away once as Sam drove off, Dean’s puppy dog eyes glued on you until the car disappeared around the corner.

When you got back to the Bunker it was dark. You parked the truck out the front and started to head inside, carrying the stuff Dean had left behind and your own things. When you started down the winding stairs of the Bunker you came to a pause as you spotted Dean walking into the war room, a beer in hand. During the whole time he’d been a dog he hadn’t had a single sip of beer.

“Heard you come in,” he noted, stopping by the table.

Reaching the floor, you moved towards the table, stopping across from him. “Like… you heard me because of some residue dog senses?”

“No,” he chuckled. “You always slam the door.”

“Right.” You nodded, dumping the things on the table. Rummaging through it all, you grabbed your stuff before stepping back. “Well… I think I’m gonna head off to bed. Long drive and all.” You gave him a tight smile before turning to leave.

“Y/N.”

You froze.

You didn’t want to freeze. You wanted to run. Every part of you wanted to run and scream so you wouldn’t have to hear what he was about to say, because you knew it was going to be bed. You knew he regretted it all. You knew he was going to apologise. You knew it, and you really didn’t want to hear it.

But there you were, frozen on the spot, stupidly waiting for him to rip your heart out.

“Look at me.”

“No.” Shaking your head, you refused to do that. “You can say what you have to say to my back.”

Sighing, he put his beer on the table before walking around until he was standing in front of you. Even then, though, you kept your gaze on the ground. But it was good enough.

“You think I’m going to tell you I regret it. You think I hate what we did. You think it disgusts me.”

“It should.”

He shook his head, taking a step closer to you. “It doesn’t.”

“How can you say that?” You looked up to met his gaze then. “Dean, you were a dog.”

“I was still a human. I was still me.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “By the second day you were sniffing my butt while I slept.”

Tensing, eyes wide, he stuttered for a second before managing, “You heard that?”

“I felt it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” Rolling your eyes again, you shook your head. “Dean, you were playing fetch and asking for belly rubs. You fucked me like a dog would.” There, it was out in the open. “You bent me over and fucked me, quite literally, doggie style. How can you tell me you were human when everything you did felt very dog-like?”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “I was a dog. I acted like a dog. I thought like a dog. I even talked like a dog sometimes. But I didn’t feel like a dog. I felt like me. And everything I told you was true.”

“It was the dog talking,” you argued.

“Of course it was the dog talking,” he agreed. “I’ve been hiding the truth from you for years. You think it’s a coincidence that I tell you everything after I’ve messed around with a potion and turned myself into some weird dog-like human? I’ve never had the guts to tell you the truth before, and I probably never would have. The dog just took away the fear. So, will you please stop arguing with me and let me kiss you already? Please.”

Your lips tugged into a grin. “Are you begging?”

“Oh shut up.” Grabbing your face he pulled you to him, crashing his lips to yours.

    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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“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.

I Am You, And You Are Me Written by @theworldiscolorful​ (@purpleskiesandcherrypies)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: You woke up one day to find yourself in Dean’s Body

Warnings: Smut (oral, a bit of dirty talk, a bit of panty kink), Crack (what is smut and crack? Smack?)

Prompt: Switching Bodies

The Hottest Garbage Man Alive Written by @evansrogerskitten

Pairings: Jensen x Reader, Jensen x Jared

Summary: In our reality, Jensen Ackles is perfect and glamorous. What if in a different life, he was something ordinary like a garbage man?

Warnings: Crack fic! Oral sex (male receiving,) implied smut, fantasizing, AU

Prompt: Awkward Moments

Flammable Angel Farts Written by @deans-jiggly-pudding

Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam, and Jack

Summary: N/A

Warnings: canon-typical language, fart jokes, crack

Prompt: Allergic Reactions

Sam Who? Written by @winchesterprincessbride

Characters: Dean, Sam, and Reader

Summary: After an unsolved case that may or may not have been a witch, the reader wakes up with no memory of her boyfriend, and it gets old for Sam and Dean very quickly.

Warnings: Crack

Prompt: Temporary Memory Loss

Something Isn’t Right by ME!! (This fic is posted on my main masterlist)

Characters: TWF 2.0 and Reader (mostly Jack)

Summary: Jack’s clothes don’t seem to fit right and when he meets up with the others, he’s finally enlightened as to why.

Warnings: Crack!

Prompt: Wardrobe Malfunction

Freaky Friday by @bamby0304

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, Rowena

Summary: Sam wakes up in a bed he didn’t fall asleep in… in a body that isn’t his. When he finds his own body asleep in the Bunker library he also finds you occupy the body, confusion ensues. Dean can’t stop laugh, you can’t stop freaking out, and despite everything Sam is- once again- the only person who can keep their head on… well, your head on… his head on? Jeez this is confusing.

Warnings: Explicit language. An attempt at crack. Body swap, obviously. Fluff? The slightest bit of angst? Implied smut.

Prompt: Curse

Hide and Seek by ME!! (This fic is posted on my main masterlist)

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean Winchester

Summary: Sam and reader are babysitting and things get a little heated when they share the same hiding spot.

Warnings: Crack!, Not really smut… but… slight Smut? PG-16? Dry Humping, Tight Spaces, Things touching things… lol.

Prompt: Accidents

Talk Psychology to Me by @bamby0304​

Characters: Dean x College-Student!Reader

Summary: The morning after meeting and rejecting Dean, you bump into him again. The two of you sit for coffee, and somehow the conversation turns to pick-up lines… which leads to sex.

Warnings: Explicit language, A poor attempt at crack, Bad pick-up lines, Rejection, Psychology talk, Smut, Oral (male receiving), Unprotected sex.

Prompt: Pick Up Lines

Switched by @waywardrose13

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester

Summary: Fucking Witches (that’s all you get)

Warnings: Witches/hex, language, some angst, a fight, Dean’s a dick, period talk, Sam’s a bit rude, fluff, crack!fic

Prompt: Switching Bodies

The Grass Is Always Greener by @hannahindie

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader, Dean

Summary: N/A

Warnings: Alcohol, weed, language, cracky goodness, so much smut. Just…just filth. Like a pinch of plot towards the end, but it’s like…guys, it’s just…you shouldn’t read it if you’re under 18. Hell, you maybe shouldn’t read it if you’re over 18. I mean, for me, anyway. It could be worse. But it’s all over the place, and there’s just a lot of it. So….here you go.

Prompt: Drinking/Drunk

Research by @sculptorofbeginnings

Characters: Team Free Will 2.0, Unknown Female Character

Summary: Sam is enjoying the day doing some quiet research until Jack finds a very interesting book…

Warnings: Smut (only a little though), Daddy!Kink, Embarrassed Sammy, Clueless Jack, General Crack!Hilarity, if I did my job right.

Prompt: Jack Asks Questions

Every Dean Has His Day by @bamby0304​

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary: After Dean drinks the potion that makes him act like a dog again, you’re stuck babysitting when it goes wrong. Days stuck with the older Winchester lead to truths being told. But is it just the dog in him talking?

Warnings: My poor attempt at crack (honestly, I tried). Scumbag in a roadhouse. Explicit language. Period talk. Fluff. A bit of angst. Smut (yep… smut). Dirty talk. Fingering. Unprotected sex.

Prompt: Potions

The French Maid by @myinconnelly1

Characters: Dean x Reader, Jack, Sam, Castiel

Summary: N/A

Warnings: Smut, 18+ , NSFW, roleplay, crack.

Prompt: Jack Asks Questions

Fallen For Me by @waywardmoeyy​

Characters: Jack Kline x Reader, TFW

Summary: N/A

Warnings: Self-doubt, Fluff, Crack.

Prompt: Clumsy

Baking With The Devil’s Son by @rubynationwins

Characters: Jack, Reader, Dean, and Sam

Summary: N/A

Warnings: Crack

Prompt: Jack Asks Questions

Animals by @winchesterwolf30

Characters: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean wakes up one morning to find a very hairy surprise (takes place before the animal mind-spell.)

Warnings: None, except that I am TERRIBLE at writing crack, so, my apologies.

Prompt: Spells

Making a Princess by @samslittlespoon​

Characters: Sam x Reader

Summary: You and Sam are called to an emergency, only to find out it’s not the type of emergency you were expecting...

Warnings: Crack, Language

Prompt: Kids/Old People

See No Evil by @bamby0304​

Characters: Dean x Reader x Sam

Summary: A case goes awry and you end up being hit with a spell that turns you invisible. While the brothers freak you try to cheer them up. A few pranks turn to heated moments that you try to shy away from, determined to keep the brothers from getting their feelings hurt. In the end though, they tell you they see more than you might think.

Warnings: An attempt at crack. Bit of angst. Some embarrassment. Nudity. Fluff. Smut. Fingering. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex. Oral (male receiving). Admittedly… this is gonna be more smutty than funny… I couldn’t help myself.

Prompt: Spells

Jack’s Case by @rideandwritethethings

Characters: TFW 2.0 x Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Jack finds a case for the Winchesters and is unable to understand why they keep laughing at the information he’s giving them.

Warnings: Warnings: crack, a whole bunch of innuendos so like PG13? they’re bad jokes though I am Not Good At Crack

Prompt: Innuendos

What Were You Thinking? by @a-winchester-fairytale

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary: While on a case, a witch plays a little trick on Dean, giving him the gift of too much information.

Warnings: crack

Prompt: Curses/Spells/Potions

Not Funny by @thatfanficstuff

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean

Summary: N/A

Warnings: Crack, Clowns, dude, clowns. Canon typical stuff

Prompt: Disguises, Undercover/Costumes

Once again, thank you to everyone that signed up and followed through. There were a few writer’s, due to personal issues and timing, that reached out and couldn’t make the deadline or extension deadline. Thank you for reaching out and letting me know. There were others who didn’t even bother giving me a simple ASK or message, which I am disappointed in. In the future, please let me know. A small heads up is very much appreciated and considerate to the host. 

He leaned forward and kissed you again. His tongue swept along your bottom lip requesting entrance. You opened your mouth to tangle your tongue with his as his hand eased the hem of your shirt up. His fingers teased along the bare flesh of your hip and you sucked in a breath at the ticklish movement.

“I found a case!” Dean exclaimed as he hurried into Sam’s room. Both of you jerked in surprise and Sam rolled over to glare at his brother. “What?” the elder Winchester asked with a grin that told you he knew exactly what.

He tossed an article he’d printed off to Sam.

Sam’s eyes scanned the article and his mouth set into a firm line. “No.”

“What do you mean no?” Dean asked. “You can’t just say no.”

“No, Dean. Look I did it again. You’re just doing this to screw with me.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion and you snatched the paper from Sam’s hand. You ignored the two of them bickering as you read through the article. Four college students had been found on campus with their throats slit. A clown had been spotted carrying a large knife around the time of one of the incidents. You pressed your lips together. Sam HATED clowns. And that was an understatement.

Seeing that you had finished reading, Dean turned his attention to you. “Well? What do you think?”

“I think we should at least check it out.” You shrugged when Sam turned to look at you.

“Traitors. You’re both traitors.”

***

The three of you had been hanging around the college for almost a week now. It was evident there was something bizarre going on around campus, but as of yet the three of you hadn’t pinned it down.

“Hey, Y/N, check this out,” Dean said with a gesture to the screen in front of him.

You scanned through the article which described the death of a co-ed on the same campus a decade ago. Throat slit and left to bleed out. Three days passed before she was found. “Sounds like you found our culprit, Dean. Nice job.”

You glanced at the time. Sam should be getting back to the motel soon. He was posing as a student on campus. You had as well though you didn’t actually attend any classes. There was only so far you were willing to go.

“If so, where does the clown fit in?” There had been more sightings of the clown around campus but they hadn’t been caught.

“I don’t think it does. I think it’s some idiot thinking he’s funny.” You pulled out your notebook and flipped to the page where you had entered the information about the sightings. “He’s shown up half a dozen times over the last two weeks. Every time, there was a crowd. He’d scare the shit out of people and disappear. My bet is he takes off the mask and blends in with the rest of the fleeing teenagers.”

Dean shrugged. “Makes sense. So how do you want to handle this, sweetheart?”

“Take Sam and salt and burn our co-ed. I’ll take care of the clown. I realize he’s not supernatural but sometimes people just need to be taught a lesson. They’re having a party at Kappa Phi tonight to celebrate mid-terms or something.”

He frowned. “Be careful. Humans are bigger assholes than the monsters sometimes.”

***

The campus had put a curfew into effect after the second body had been found. No one was allowed on campus after dark. Night classes were cancelled. Obviously, not everyone adhered to the directive or you wouldn’t have three more dead bodies on your hands.

Technically Greek row was not part of the campus so the students you were watching stumble around weren’t in violation of the curfew. You shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you strolled down the street, scanning the shadows around you as you went. You had been wandering the neighborhood for an hour but never strayed far from the party. If the clown was going to make an appearance, it would be there.

Sure enough it was only a few moments later when you heard screaming coming from the sorority. You cut across a couple of yards and thanked your luck when you emerged feet from the fleeing clown. He was looking over his shoulder and didn’t notice you at all. Not until you landed a solid roundhouse kick to his head, anyway.

He dropped to the ground with a thud. “What the hell?” he groaned as he rocked back and forth. 

His horrific clown mask had been knocked askew allowing you to see the kid underneath. You leaned over the top of him and pressed the barrel of your unloaded gun under his chin. “It’s not nice to scare people, dipshit.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Please don’t kill me. Please. It’s not real. It’s all fake. Even the knife isn’t real. I swear to God. Check it out just please don’t kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you plucked his rubber knife from the ground with your free hand before yanking the mask from his head as well. “What’s your name?” you asked. It was hard to maintain a firm tone when all you wanted to do was laugh your ass off at how terrified this idiot was.

“What?”

“Tell me your name, douchebag,” you growled and pressed the nose of the gun more firmly against his skin.

“Hank Monroe. Oh God, it’s Hank Monroe. Who are you? Please don’t kill me.”

By this point Hank was sobbing and you were fairly certain he’d pissed his pants. “I’m from the clown union. You’re giving us a bad name, Hank. We don’t like it. Any more whispers about clowns terrorizing people on campus and we’re all coming after you. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand.” He grasped hold of your leg as he praised your forgiving nature. You kicked him away and he curled up in a ball. You left him there whimpering as you headed back toward the motel. You sent Dean a text as you walked letting him know you were on your way. His return text told you their salt and burn was finished and evidently a success. You smiled and told Dean to make sure Sammy was unarmed when he answered the door.

***

You pounded on the door when you arrived back at the motel. “Come on, guys. Let me in. I forgot my key,” you called.

“I’m coming, Babe,” you heard Sammy answer as you stood just out of the line of sight for the peep hole.

The door swung open to reveal Sam looking over his shoulder at Dean instead of in your direction. Dean grinned and Sam turned to see what was so amusing. Instead, he was faced with his worst nightmare. A demonic clown with a knife. You would think a seasoned hunter like Sam Winchester would attack when faced with such a threat, but no.

What Sam Winchester did was scream. You were certain he reached a pitch that rivaled any you had ever made even when you were a little girl. His face contorted in horror as he jumped backward, his hands flying up to ward off the attack from the vicious entity that just invaded his room. He scrambled up on the bed until his back was plastered against the wall.

All of this happened in seconds that felt like eons. And once Sam could think properly, once he was no longer operating on pure fight or flight, he realized that his brother and the clown were laughing hysterically. He’d know that laugh anywhere.

“Y/N?” he asked, betrayal heavy in his tone.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” you said between breaths as you pulled the mask from your head. “I had to.”

“His face,” Dean sputtered out which set him off on a new round of laughter.

Sam climbed down from his perch and gave you both his bitch face. “It’s not funny.”

You grinned and plopped down on the end of the bed. “See, you say that but clearly it was because we’re still laughing.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play, that’s how we’ll play. I wonder if I could get Cas to bring me the biggest spider in the world?”

You froze as you looked wide-eyed at your boyfriend. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, sweetheart,” he answered, flashing you a grin full of evil intentions.

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.”

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