Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Author's Note

This is a work of fanfiction and is not to be printed, bound, or sold. As that would be an illegal act. I do not condone or give permission to any person to print, bind, or sell this fanfiction.

This work is a creation of my own making and I do not own any characters, places, or situations that I myself did not create. I deeply respect the original work and its creators. 

Please keep fanfiction writers safe and protected so we can continue to create new stories for everyone. 

Also, please read the listed trigger warnings and do not read this story if it will be triggering for you. 

Thank you, and I hope you enjoy it!

Content and Trigger Warnings

• Violence and On-page Character Death
• Self Sacrifice
• Heavy, Descriptive, and Explicit On-page Sex Scenes
• Elements of BDSM: Choking, Semi-Public Sex, Forced and Withheld Orgasms, Sex Toys, Bondage, Blindfolds, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Degradation/Praise Kinks, Daddy Kink, Sir Kink, God Kink
• Gunplay
• Knife Play
• Blood Play
• Marking: Tattoos, Biting, Hickies
• Multi-Relationship: One-On-One Sex Scenes, Three and Foursome Scenes
• Found Family
• Mentions of Verbal Abuse
• Destiel
• Slowish Burn

Damn, you're still here?

Such a good little cum slut.

May Chuck have mercy on your soul. Because I have no intention to.

Chapter Text

Y/n

I adore nights like this, with rain cascading outside my window, rhythmically tapping the glass. The night sky, a rich, velvety blue, almost black, hovers above the majestic oak trees. This is the idyllic weather for writing. I place my steaming cup of coffee on my rolling desk, position my laptop on top, and glide it to the inviting couch. I cocoon myself in the soft, warm throw blanket I knitted yesterday and flex my fingers, ready to dive into the world of words. 

As I open my computer, launch my browser, and open Google Docs, I revisit the last chapter I penned. Sam and Dean are on a hunt, on the verge of discovering that the girl they’re saving is the love of their lives. But it can’t be that simple. No, I need to infuse tension, lingering gazes, and a hint of angst. It’s what my readers crave, after all. 

I write a few chapters, doing my best to perfectly captivate the moment when all of their feelings are laid on the table, the point where there is no going back to being ‘just friends.’ My heart races as the words appear on my screen, longing to feel that moment in real life. 

My reality is mundane. My books aren’t soaring in popularity, a reality any budding author faces. We can’t all be H.D. Carlton or Colleen Hoover, but we dare to dream. So this is where I find solace and also where I cultivate ideas for my books. I would give anything to immerse myself in the world I create, to live the life of a hunter. 

But unfortunately, it’s just a TV show. So instead, I write about it. I write out different endings, save the characters I wish to save, and make love to fictional characters through the words on my screen. 

A few hours later, my coffee cup is empty, as well, as my brain for ideas to finish the last chapter of my story.

    Why are endings so hard to write?

As my eyes drift closed, exhausted and ready for a good night's rest, a knock sounds against my front door. I look at the clock on my phone— 1:36 a.m. My brain instantly goes into panic mode. Why would someone be knocking so late? Is there a fire? Is it a serial killer? Did someone I know die? I quietly laugh to myself about the second thought. I mean, why would a serial killer knock on the door of the victim he’s about to kill? 

I stand up from the couch and move to the front door, looking through the peephole. I can’t believe my eyes, unlocking the door, and suddenly embarrassed of the oversized ‘Castiel #1’ t-shirt I’m wearing, which is stupid because it’s the middle of the night. This just adds to my curiosity: Why is he here?

I open the door with shaky hands, still unable to believe that Rob Benedict is at my door. “Hi, um... Can I, uh, help you?” I ask timidly. 

He smiles widely, somehow dry as the rain continues to pour from the sky. “Hello, y/n. May I come inside? It’s a little wet out here,” he jokes with a soft chuckle. 

I instantly move aside, allowing him to enter. “Oh, of course. Um, it’s so nice to meet you,” I say as he enters the door of my one-story cottage-style home. I close the door and turn to face him again. “Wait, how did you know my name?” I ask curiously. I don’t remember putting my name into a meet-and-greet raffle, and I’m fairly certain that those meet-and-greets don’t happen in the middle of the night. 

He looks around my home, sweeping his eyes across the layout before finally meeting mine again. “I apologize. I haven’t formally introduced myself,” he holds out a hand to shake. “I’m Chuck. Chuck Shurley.”

I can’t help but chuckle softly as I shake his hand. “You mean you play Chuck Shurley,” I say as I shake his hand. He looks back at me with narrowed eyes and a tilt of his head. “You’re… Rob Benedict. I’m a huge fan of the show,” I say, motioning to Supernatural playing on my TV in the living room. 

He tilts his head up slightly, his eyes relaxing as he smirks. “Ah, I see. Well, it seems that I have found the right house, at least,” he chuckles. “I’m sorry, maybe I should be a little more clear. I’m happy to explain. Do you mind if we sit?” He asks, motioning to the couch. 

“Oh, yes. Please, make yourself comfortable,” I say, motioning to the couch following him to sit down. Once we’re sat down, I close my laptop and give him my attention again. 

“So,” he claps his hands together. “I understand if this is all a little strange. So please allow me to explain,” he says more stoicly. I nod my head and wait for him to begin, mentally making notes of questions to ask. 

He holds out his hands, taking a deep breath. “This may sound unbelievable. I understand if you’re confused, but I really am Chuck Shurley,” he says. I narrow my eyes; this must be a joke. “It’s true. All of… this,” he motions to the TV, playing the show still. 

“As I’m sure you know, I met a very unfortunate end. All well deserved, I admit,” he holds out his hands again before putting them on his knees. “But I want to change that. And I believe you can help me,” he looks at me seriously, his voice calm and a little hopeful. “I’ve read your writings, y/n, and they’re really good. You’re fanfictions, too,” he nods to my computer.

“You’ve… read my fanfics?” I ask, feeling the heat of embarrassment tint my cheeks.

Chuck chuckles softly and smiles. “I have, you’re really good. The way you move the story along without it being boring. The way you perfectly capture the characters and expand on their emotions and feelings,” he talks with his hands. “Your writing is right up there with the greats, in my opinion.” He says with a hand to his chest. 

     Am I really believing this right now? Am I dreaming?

“So, here is my proposal,” he sits up straighter, interlocking his fingers together. “I want you to come to our world. I’ll put you right in their line of sight. I can even make them fall in love with you,” he winks. “All I ask in return is for you to help me give myself a different ending.” 

I shake my head in disbelief. This can’t really be happening right now. “Wait a second, how are you here? If you’re, you know… dead?” I ask.

Chuck sighs and leans back. “That part was a little tricky. See, I had to go back and change a few things,” he says. “Let’s see. I took out Abbadon, so the mark of Cain was never in the equation, meaning my sister never comes back. Oh, but I am still planning on bringing someone back,” he winks. 

“Bobby?!” I ask excitedly.

“No, I wasn’t planning on bringing him back,” he looks at me. “ Unless it would persuade you to come with me. I have been in this universe long enough to know how much everybody loves him.” He looks at me with a hopeful expression. 

I bite my lower lip anxiously. Is that something I want? What do I want? I feel like, at this point, I could ask for almost anything and get it. 

“I don’t know… I mean, if Amara isn’t coming back, that means he’s still in heaven. I don’t want to take that peace from him,” Chuck nods his head in understanding. “But, on the other end, I feel like he’s more accepting, and it would give me a better chance to be introduced to them.” I weigh the options in my mind. 

“That it would,” Chuck says, nodding his head. 

“Okay. I’ll help you, but I have a few conditions.” I say sternly.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” Chuck laughs. 

“First of all, don’t make them fall in love with me. If they do, I want it to be real,” Chuck nods, and I continue. “Secondly, I do want Bobby to come back, his house and everything the way it was before the leviathans,” Chucks nods. “Third, I’ll do my best to help you be a better God, but I will not kill Jack. And , if you want to be a better God, you actually have to put in the effort to be one. That means no fucking with Sam, Dean, Castiel, Bobby, Jody, Donna, anyone just because you’re bored,” I raise my eyebrow at him. 

“And if you do end up not being a better God, then no sending me back here just as I am about to explain myself or smiting me or anything like that just because you think you’ve lost,” I explain. 

Chuck breathes deeply. “Okay, I’ll agree to that.” 

I try to think of anything else I want or any other loose ends to tie up. I snap my fingers. “Oh, and I want all of the knowledge I have about the show and its ending to stay with me. And if Metatron isn’t dead already, I want him to be. I don’t want to deal with his bullshit.”

Chuck laughs wholeheartedly. “Yeah, I don’t blame you for that one,” he seems to think the rest of my deal over in his mind. “Alright, you have a deal,” He stands up. “Pack a bag with whatever you need. I’ll wait here, and then we’ll go.”

“What about Bobby?” I ask as I stand up. 

“Already done,” he smiles. “Go pack your bag, y/n, and we’ll get going.”

Chapter Text

Y/n

The moment my feet touch the ground, it’s as if I’ve been through a whirlwind. The world around me spins, and I struggle to find my balance.

Chuck, a familiar face, is quick to react as I stumble. His hand wraps around my arm, steadying me. “Woah, easy there,” he chuckles softly. “Here, let me help,” I hear him say before his fingers land gently on my forehead. A warm feeling courses through my body, taking away the dizzy feeling and replacing it with calmness. “There, is that better?” He asks kindly.

I look up at him, the sun shining against his brown hair, and he smiles down at me. “Yeah, loads,” I say as I take in my surroundings.

The scent of motor oil and rusted metal fills my nostrils as I take in the grounds of the Singer Auto Salvage yard. The lived-in house that I know holds the start of my journey, whether that journey is to save Chuck or kill him. One way or another, I’m not writing the story anymore.

I’m living it.

“I can’t believe it,” I mutter under my breath. “I’m actually here.”

Chuck moves to stand beside me. “You are y/n, and I have one more surprise for you,” he says, looking at me from my side. I turn to face him. “You know how dangerous this world is, and even though I know you know how to kill everything, you’re not a hunter,” he says softly. “And as I’m sure you can imagine, I don’t have a chance if you die. When I touched your forehead, I made you immortal.”

I take a step back, trying to understand. “What— what do you mean immortal?” I ask, trying to take in everything that has happened to me in the last two hours. “Like, I can’t be killed?

Chuck nods his head slowly. “Yes, exactly like that. Nothing in this world can kill you. You can still be hurt,” he clarifies. “But you can’t be killed. Not by any weapons that exist in this world. You can’t be smited or possessed by angels or demons either.”

“Does that mean I’ll live forever? Like longer than anyone here?” I ask nervously.

I didn’t ask for that.

Chuck pulls a small vial from his pocket, a silver chain connected to it to make a necklace. “As long as you wish to live,” he hands the vial necklace to me. The small vial contains a shimmery, white liquid that feels warm to the touch. “In this vial is a very small amount of my grace, my power. It’s only good for one wish. Whatever that wish may be, anything you could ever want or dream of. Whether it is to be mortal again, or to go back home, or to save a life,” he raises a single finger.

“But only once. The amount inside is just enough for one wish. Hold it close, y/n. You won’t get a second one,” he says sternly.

I put the necklace over my head, tucking the small vial inside of my shirt. “Why are you being so nice?” I ask him curiously, hoping I don’t offend him.

Chuck places a hand on my shoulder. “I told you. I want to be better this time around. I want to be a kind and loving God, and I want people to trust me. I want you to trust me.”

I nod my head slowly. “As long as you hold up your end of the deal, I’ll hold up mine,” I say, watching his kind expression falter for just a second before he smiles again and nods his head.

Chuck turns towards the house. “One last thing, y/n,” he says. In this world, I wanted to make it easier for you to adjust and easier for you to be welcomed,” he sighs. While you’re here, I made it so Bobby is expecting you.”

My eyes scrunch in confusion as I wait for him to explain. “As far as anyone here is concerned, yes, you are from your world. However, he knows that you’re the daughter of the man who plays him in your world.”

“What?!” I hiss in disbelief. “Why would you do that?!”

“Like I said. To make it easier for them to accept you. You know they wouldn’t trust you if you just knocked on the door and said God sent you to change the fate of their entire universe, with absolutely no real connection to them besides watching them on TV,” Chuck explains. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, he’s right. I’m just worried they’ll find out the kind of man my dad was.

Chuck nods towards the house. “It’s time, y/n, it’s time for you to start your journey. If you ever need me, just pray, and I’ll come,” he smiles before disappearing before my very eyes.

I take a deep breath, pinching my arm to make sure I’m not dreaming. Pulling the bag up my shoulder, I walk up the gravel driveway to Bobby’s front door.

How will he react when he meets me? Will he trust me?

Why would he? He has no reason to. I’m a stranger to him.

He’ll probably kill me. Or, at least, try to. Chuck said I can’t die, but isn’t that suspicious?

I step up onto the porch, my shaky hand clenching as I knock on the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

The seconds that pass as I wait for an answer feel like hours. And in those seconds, I contemplate just turning around and running away.

Isn’t just being in this universe enough? I could start over, write my novels from scratch, and republish them. Dark romance isn’t really a big thing yet. I could be one of the firsts.

That option starts to sound like a really good idea. But as I turn around to walk back down the porch steps, the door opens behind me. All of the air feels sucked out of my lungs as I hear a gruff voice behind me speak.

“Can I help you?” Bobby’s gruff voice sounding confused but kind.

I slowly turn around to face him. Taking in the fact that he’s actually right in front of me, that he’s alive.

His furrowed brows relax before raising his forehead, and he sucks in a breath of his own, opening the door wider. “My God,” he says softly. “Y/n?” He asks.

I clutch the strap of my duffle bag tightly, nodding my head slowly. “That’s me,” I respond, trying to take in the fact he’s saying my name.

Bobby steps out onto the porch, taking a few steps closer to me before he smiles and wraps his arms around me tightly. The scent of old books and motor oil fills my nose before he pulls back and puts his rough hands on my shoulders. “Sorry, it’s just so crazy to me that you’re actually here in front of me. My flesh and blood,” he says proudly.

My stomach feels tied in knots. This man is the complete opposite of the man my father is. Where Jim is cold and off-putting, Bobby is warm and inviting. I still remember the day my birth father left me in the dust to my own devices.

Three Years Ago

“Hey, Dad, do you have a minute?” I asked cautiously as I knocked on the door to his office in the den.

My father cleared his throat. “What do you want?” He asked in an annoyed tone.

I pushed open the door and walked inside, clutching the finished copy of my first novel to my chest. I walk slowly to the end of his desk. “I finished my novel,” I say softly. He groans and rolls his eyes before meeting mine, holding out his hand for me to hand it to him without a word.

My father flips through the pages, barely spending five minutes to look through all three hundred pages of it before he closes it and places it on his desk. My hands shake as I wait for his opinion. It shouldn’t matter to me as much as it does. My father is the hardest person to please.

“It could be better,” he says flatly before opening his laptop again. I try to control the rage that floods through my veins and the disappointment that stabs into my heart like an icicle. “How long did it take you to write it?”

I clench my fists at my sides, willing the tears of frustration I want to cry to stay back. “Six months,” I say through gritted teeth.

He scoffs and shakes his head. “A little slow for someone who claims to love to write. The writers on set write that many pages, more than three episodes in a month,” he chastises. “Honestly y/n. You’re wasting your time wanting to be behind the screen when your mother and I worked so hard so you could get in front of it. Ridiculous.

“I don’t want to be on the screen, though. I’m more comfortable writing. I like expressing myself on the page,” I shoot back defensively.

He slams his hand on the desk, making me jump. He’s never hit me before, but I don’t like it when he does it. “You are so damn ungrateful. Do you know how many young women would kill to have the opportunities you have?! Your mother and I provided a good life for you. Gave you everything you ever asked for and everything you could ever want, and you want to squander it. For what? A few shitty pages of a novel that will never see the light of day?!” He throws the pages of my book over the desk, the papers scattering across the floor.

I can’t contain my anger anymore. I’m fed up with his narcissism. “Then I’ll publish it on my own! I don’t need you or your publisher or even your damn name on the acknowledgments! I’m done!” I yell back, finally standing my ground.

My father pushes back his chair, rising to his feet. “Then get out! Get out of my house until you find some sense!” He yells, pointing to the door. “I mean it! Out!”

I run out of his office, leaving behind the scattered pages of my book as I run upstairs and pack a suitcase. I pack only what I can fit inside of it, leaving everything else behind. I open my safe, grab the ten thousand dollars in cash that I keep there for emergencies, and stuff it into my purse.

After I left, I got a job working as a waitress in a small town. With the cash I took from my safe, I was able to rent a small one-bed, one-bath cottage home and get an old beater from a used car lot. I never touched my inheritance account, never even checked it. I meant what I said about doing it on my own. Screw him.

Present

“Y/n? Y/n? Are you okay?” Bobby asks me, his brows furrowed with a worried expression on his face.

I nod my head, pushing back the memories of my old life. I don’t want to re-live them anymore. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. It’s really nice to meet you, too,” I say softly, giving him a small smile. “Sorry, it’s just still hard for me to believe I’m actually here.”

Bobby laughs and nods his head. “The feeling is mutual kiddo. You want to come inside?” He asks, pointing to the front door with his thumb.

I nod my head once. “Sure, I’d like that. Thank you,” I say softly, clutching my duffle nervously.

Bobby leads the way, opening the door and holding it open for me. I look around, feeling like I already know the house. It’s exactly like the way it looked on TV; part of me feels like I’m simply walking around a set.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” Bobby says, rubbing his head before putting his trucker hat back on his head.

“I love it,” I say, turning to smile at him.

Bobby smiles and nods his head. “I set up a room for you. I’ll let you get settled in, and then I figured I could fire up the grill. You like burgers?” He asks, leading me up the stairs.

“I love burgers. That’d be really nice. Thank you for welcoming me into your home,” I say politely as he opens the door to a spare bedroom.

Bobby chuckles. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s your home to now,” he says as he steps into the room with me as I set my bag down on the bed. “Listen, kiddo, I know I wasn’t the best dad in the other universe to you, but… I hope I can be a better one in this one. But if you don’t want to have another dad or a dad, or Christ, I don’t know. I’m sorry this is all just so strange.”

I smile softly. “Listen, um… Bobby… Is it okay if I call you Bobby?” I ask nervously. He nods, and I continue. “To me, you and Jim are two entirely different people, in the best way possible. It’s just hard for me because he threw me out at nineteen… Kind of like John did to Sam. Actually, exactly like that,” I explain. “I know you and Jim are entirely different people, so I feel like it’d be best if we just start slow. Try to figure out what it is that’s going on first.”

Bobby sighs in relief. “That sounds great. ’Cause I gotta level with you. I have no idea how to be a dad,” he chuckles.

“So let’s just start with dinner,” I say with a smile.

Bobby nods and smiles back. “Sounds good, kiddo. I’ll be out back when you’re ready.” He says before exiting my new bedroom.

I sigh in relief, examining my new room as I put my things away. Wondering what Sam and Dean are up to. Wondering if Lucifer is still in Cas. If I should call Cas ‘Cas,’ or if he’d prefer Castiel. Wondering if Jack’s been born yet.

But one thing is certain: I won’t let Chuck almost ruin the entire world again.

That’s for damn sure.

Chapter Text

Y/n

One Week Later

To say that living with Bobby is great is an understatement. Ever since I showed up at his door a week ago, he has taken me in as his own. Well, technically, I am his flesh and blood… But it’s nothing like it was to live with my father.

Bobby has taken me under his wing and taught me so many things in just one short week. He’s shown me how to work on cars, patiently explaining the different parts and how to troubleshoot any issues on my own.

He’s also shown me a few fighting moves. According to Bobby, just because I can’t die doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to fight. At the same time, I’ve told him a few things I’ve picked up from watching the show. For example, to kill a dragon, you need to use something called ‘The sword of Bruncvik.’ Or that curing the virus from the darkness— which I also explained— you simply pour holy oil over the blackened veins.

Today, the anticipation is electric as I prepare to meet Sam and Dean. My nerves are on edge, but the excitement is undeniable.

Bobby told me not to worry. That even though Dean is a little rough around the edges, he’s a good guy. And that he’s sure that Sam is just as nice as he seems.

I’m trying to focus on writing my novel, thankful that I was able to bring my laptop and phone here with me. Even more thankful that they still work and are somehow still connected to my old world. Usually, I’d watch Supernatural to calm my nerves and anxiety, but something about watching it inside Bobby’s house just feels wrong.

Instead of seeking solace in Supernatural, I turn to my world of words. I’m diving into my new novel, a dark college bully romance. As I shut out the new world around me, I feel a sense of purpose and escape, ready to immerse myself in my writing.

I’m just starting on the second chapter when I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I jump, almost knocking over my laptop, as I turn around to see Bobby with Sam and Dean standing on either side of him.

God have mercy. The show did not prepare me for how tall they actually are.

Sam is obviously taller than Dean, but actually, being in front of him, I can see how hazel his eyes actually are. A deep, warm brown in the center, with a pale green around the edges. His body is massive, standing at at least six foot eight. His biceps pressed against the short sleeves of his t-shirt. But he’s not intimidating; instead, he feels inviting. Like the kind of guy you could just relax and hang out with, doing something by doing nothing.

Then there’s Dean. Good lord… Deep emerald green eyes that feel too green to be real, his gaze piercing through me as he seems to analyze me for any threat risks. Though he’s not as tall as Sam is, he’s still tall. Standing at somewhere around maybe six foot four. Either way, both of them are a foot or more taller than I am. Dean’s arms are crossed over his chest, suggesting he feels wary about me and my presence here. He doesn’t make me feel unwelcome here, just out of place.

I shift on my feet as Bobby clears his throat again. “I told you, boys, she sure does love to write,” Bobby chuckles. Sam chuckles with him, giving me a small smirk as Dean’s face remains almost unreadable. “Boys, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Sam and Dean.”

Sam is the first one to step forward, leaning slightly over the back of the couch and holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Don’t mind Dean,” Sam chuckles as he shakes my hand.

I smile softly and nod my head once. “Y/n, nice to meet you too,” I respond, trying not to feel so nervous. “And I’ll try.”

Sam smiles a little more broadly, chuckling as he runs a hand through his hair. “So, uh, Bobby said you’re not from around here,” Sam says politely.

Dean scoffs and shakes his head. “That’s one way of saying it,” he says grumpily.

I suck my bottom lip between my teeth.

Oh God, he hates me. Maybe I should’ve had Chuck at least make him more welcoming to me. This sucks.

No. No, y/n, this is better. This is real. It’s not right to manipulate how people feel about you.

I clear my throat and look at Dean. “What’s the other way to say it?” I ask, challenging him and cocking a brow in his direction. I took shit from Jim for too long, I won’t take it from Dean too. No matter how much it may hurt.

Dean narrows his eyes at me, straightening his back and taking a step closer, keeping his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I was going to say you don’t belong here. This isn’t your world. Why don’t you go back to yours where everything is all sunshine and rainbows and leave the monsters to the professionals.” He spits back.

“Dean!” Bobby says loudly behind him.

Now I’m fuming. I clench my jaw and step right up to him, looking into his dark green eyes. “Ever stop to think that God brought me here to save your asses? From that giant ass ego, you’re carrying around?” I snap back at him.

Dean’s nostrils flare as I see my own anger reflected back at me. I’m so focused on not backing down from Dean that I barely hear Sam and Bobby snicker.

Dean looks me up and down as if he’s sizing me up. Dean leans down to my ear, and I fight to keep myself from shivering as he whispers in my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. “Stay out of my way, little girl, or you’ll find out what part of me is even bigger than my ego. And I won’t go easy on you either.”

My breath hitches in my chest as I fight the urge to clench my thighs together. Dean leans back and cocks an eyebrow at me before turning back to Bobby and Sam. Dean walks out of the living room and into the kitchen. Sam follows Dean, shaking his head at his brother.

“Did he threaten you, darlin’?” Bobby asks, leaning down to my height. I shake my head no because I can’t repeat what Dean just said to anyone, especially Bobby. “Alright, well, let’s go eat.”

Bobby walks into the kitchen, leaving me in the living room. I suck in a breath, gathering my composure before I enter the kitchen.

I take a seat at the table between Bobby and Sam, sitting directly across from Dean. “So,” Sam clears his throat, looking at me. “How do you like it here so far?” Sam asks me as Bobby places a pot of spaghetti on the table.

I give him a small smile. “I really like it. I’ve learned a lot here, and I can’t wait to meet more people,” I respond kindly.

“Bobby mentioned that in your world, this is all a TV show? I think me and Dean have been to that world before,” Sam says, carrying on the conversation as he loads up his plate.

I nod my head. “Yeah, but it’s a little different from the one you guys went to. I remember that episode,” I say, taking the spoon from Sam, putting food on my plate, and passing it to Bobby.

“Oh? How so?” Sam asks with genuine curiosity as he takes a bite.

“Well, you did actually marry Ruby— Genieve is her name in my world,” Dean snickers across the table. I throw him a glare and continue. “She’s actually really nice; I’ve met her a few times. And Dean married an angel; her name here is Sister Jo, but in my world, it’s Danneel.”

“Dean? Marrying an angel?” Bobby quips with a chuckle.

I giggle softly. “But one thing that was vastly different was that in my world, you guys are best friends, more like brothers, just not blood-related.”

“Wow, that sounds a lot better than the world we went to. Huh, Dean?” Sam asks Dean, who is shoveling spaghetti in his mouth.

Dean swallows and takes a long drag of his beer. “I guess,” he shrugs. “Is there anything you don’t know?” Dean asks me in a mocking tone.

“Jesus, Dean, would it kill you to be nice?” Bobby asks him grumpily.

Dean shrugs. “Probably not. But who knows what she actually knows,” Dean says, taking another drink.

“I know your favorite porn is ‘Busty Asian Beauties,’” I fire back cockily as I take another bite.

Sam chokes on his beer, and Bobby’s eyes widen before he shakes his head, lowering it.

Dean chuckles and shakes his head. “So you know what kind of porn I like, so what? What about stuff I’ve done?” Dean asks, challenging me once again.

“Like the cool stuff you’ve killed?” I ask, taking a sip of my beer. Dean nods his head. I sigh and think back to stuff he’s killed. “Well, let’s see. I’d say Hitler was probably the coolest.”

“I killed Hitler?” Dean asks wide-eyed.

I nod my head. “But my favorite was probably when you killed Death.”

Dean laughs once and claps his hands with a victorious face. “See, now you’re making shit up. You can’t kill Death. He’s Death.”

I chuckle and lean on my elbows, locking my eyes on his. “You can if you kill him with his own scythe,” I quip back.

“She’s right,” Sam says, pointing at me with his beer bottle.

Dean looks at Sam with a glare. “Who’s side are you on, man?” Dean asks grumpily.

“We’re all on the same side, Dean,” Bobby answers before Sam can.

“And what side is that exactly?” Dean asks, looking at all three of us. “Because last I checked, I didn’t sign on for this job,” Dean looks directly at me. “Why are you even here exactly?” Dean asks.

I look at Bobby, who knows the deal I made with Chuck and why I’m here. Bobby nods once, and I look back at Dean. “I’m here to help God,” I respond, trying not to feel nervous and like I’m spilling a secret— But Chuck never said I couldn’t tell anyone why I’m here.

“What? You met him?” Sam asks from my right side. I turn to look at him and nod.

“Help him with what?” Dean asks, suddenly more interested.

I sigh and lean back in my chair. “He wants to be a better God. He wants a second chance instead of you guys killing him,” I respond to Dean.

“Excuse me, did you just say we kill God?” Dean asks wide-eyed.

I nod my head. “Well, Jack took his powers while he beat the shit out of you two and Cas—tiel,” I stop myself from using Castiel’s nickname, still unsure that I should be using it, considering I haven’t met him yet. “You didn’t really kill him yourselves, but you left him in the middle of the woods with no powers, and he almost died from not being able to survive in the wilderness.”

“Oh my god,” Sam mutters.

“He deserved it, don’t get me wrong. But he wants to be better, and so he called on an angel who took him back in time to about now, and he came to my world to bring me here and help him be better. Something about how he loves my writing, and how I know so much about this world and how it ended, and since he loves to write and knew I was miserable in my world, is what made him decide on me,” I explain to Sam and Dean.

“Mhm. And who is God exactly?” Dean asks skeptically.

I shrug my shoulders. “Chuck Shurley,” I respond, taking a sip of my beer.

“Chuck? As in, author of the Supernatural books Chuck?” Sam asks, surprised.

I nod my head, and Dean laughs, drawing my attention to him. “Bullshit, Chuck is a prophet, not God.”

“Right, he said that. But think about it, Dean,” I lean on the table again. “God has been hidden from angels and demons and everything else; what better place to hide than in plain sight?” I ask him.

“Alright, then explain to me why his name is on the list of prophets,” Dean challenges.

I can’t help but groan and roll my eyes at his arrogance. “And who makes the list of prophets?” I ask him.

“God does,” Sam answers from my side. I turn and nod my head.

Dean shakes his head. “So let me get this straight,” Dean pinches the spot on his nose between his eyes. “God went back in time, got his powers back, and brought you here, to our world, just because he didn’t want to die?” Dean asks.

I nod my head. “Essentially. He made a deal with me to come here and help him be a better God to change his fate.”

“And what was this deal exactly?” Dean asks.

“Boilerplate? That I got to come here because my life in my world sucked, that Bobby got to come back to life and everything here,” I motion around me. “Would be just as it was before the whole Leviathan thing, and that he couldn’t interfere with your lives, Castiel’s, Jody’s, Donna’s, Jack’s, anyone who knows you really, just because he was bored. Which is what he did before.”

“And in return, you just simply help him be a better dude?” Dean asks skeptically.

I nod my head. “Yeah, basically.”

Dean and Sam both slump back in their chairs. “Jesus,” Sam mutters.

Dean chugs the rest of his beer, tossing the empty bottle into the trash can. “Alright then. Guess we’re stuck with you for the time being,” Dean says to me with a cocky smirk on his lips.

I lean back in my chair and sip my beer. “Woe is you,” I reply in an equally mocking tone.

“This is going to be fun,” Sam says, chuckling in a playfully sarcastic tone.

Chapter Text

Y/n

The next morning, the house is still and quiet, and everyone is lost in the depths of sleep. Bobby’s snores echo from the upper floor while Sam and Dean, worn out from the previous day, have found solace on the living room couches. Stealthily, I set the coffee pot to brew and make my way to the mailbox. Upon my return, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, a comforting promise of the day ahead.

With a cup of steaming coffee in hand, I place the mail on the table, each envelope carefully arranged. None of it is mine, but I know Bobby dislikes venturing out in the rain. Balancing my cup and laptop, I step outside, the cool air of the porch a welcome contrast to the warmth inside.

I draw in a deep breath, the scent of rain and earth mingling in the air, a symphony of nature’s perfume. The gentle rhythm of raindrops on the wooden porch and roof serenades my ears. It’s a writer’s paradise, a day made for creativity.

I open my laptop to the Google Doc with my new novel typed on it and sip the warm coffee, appreciating the sweet caramel and vanilla creamer as it contrasts the acidity of the coffee. I take a deep, appreciative breath and begin to write.

“Good morning,” I hear Sam say as he appears in the doorway, his eyes gazing across me with a soft and tired smile.

I smile back. “Good morning,” I respond kindly, giving him my attention as he steps outside and closes the door behind him. “Did I wake you up?” I ask.

Sam shakes his head softly and yawns, holding his cup of coffee. “No, I just tend to wake up pretty early,” he says, walking closer and pointing to the chair beside mine. “Mind if I sit?”

I motion to the chair with my hand. “No, not at all, please,” I say politely, moving my laptop and cup over slightly to give him room to place his cup.

“What are you working on? If you don’t mind me asking,” he says, motioning his mug of coffee to my computer.

“I don’t mind. It’s just my new novel I’m working on,” I respond kindly, unsure if I should talk about the topic of what I write.

Sam nods his head once. “Cool, what do you write about?” He asks politely.

“Oh, um…” I chuckle softly, feeling a blush tint my cheeks. “Romance, honestly,” I say nervously.

“So, like Jane Austen?” He asks with a smile.

I shrug my shoulders. “More like H.D. Carlton and Clarissa Wild,” I chuckle.

Sam makes a curious facial expression. “Hm, I don’t think I’ve heard of them.”

“Yeah, they’re not for everyone. They write dark romance,” I blush, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

Sam’s eyebrows perk up in interest. “Dark romance? Like horror romances?”

I nod and sip my coffee, holding the warm mug in my hands. “Yeah, kinda. It’s more like stalker and bully romances. Those are my favorites, at least,” I explain, brushing my hair behind my ear.

“Stalkers and bullies huh?” Sam chuckles, making me feel even more embarrassed.

Why did I tell him that? Oh my God. Hashtag mortified.

I try to laugh it off but pull my bottom lip between my teeth. Wishing I’d never told him.

His hand lands softly on my shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you. I just hadn’t heard anything like that before,” He says softly. But I can’t focus on anything besides his large, warm hand encompassing my shoulder. “Do you mind if I read it?” He asks softly.

I slowly turn to face him again, looking for any signs of teasing but finding none. “Oh, um… Sure,” I say softly, turning my laptop to face him. “It’s not finished yet, but I have the first few chapters. You don’t have to read them all, though; it’s just the first draft.”

Sam smiles softly as he takes his hand off my shoulder and grapes my computer, scrolling to the top of the document. Right. To. The. Trigger. Warnings.

Oh my God, please let the Earth open up and swallow me whole.

I feel an intense desire to grab my laptop back and prevent him from reading the contents, which overwhelms me, but it’s too late. My body tenses as the rain intensifies and the wind gains strength. A chill runs through my body as the cold breeze cuts through the thin fabric of my shorts and t-shirt.

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Sam removes his thick flannel jacket and hands it to me. He seems interested in my writing, or at least pretending to be.

“I’m okay,” I say softly.

Sam’s eyes leave my laptop briefly to meet mine. “Put it on y/n,” he says sternly.

As he hands me the jacket, I accept it without uttering a word. Sliding my arms inside, I immediately feel the comforting warmth it provides. The intertwining scent of rich mahogany and musk envelops me, making me never want to part with the comfort I feel wrapped in his jacket.

I sip my coffee and wait patiently for him to finish reading. The rain falling only enhances our peaceful silence.

As I finish my cup, Sam sits back in his chair. “Wow,” he says softly, returning my laptop to me.

I take my laptop back, looking back at him. “Is that a good wow or a bad one?” I ask, trying not to sound as anxious as I feel.

“Good. It’s excellent. I definitely want to read it when it’s finished. I like how you write from different points of view, too. I’ve never read a book that does that,” he says with a genuine smile.

I can’t help but blush at his praise. “I’ll give you a signed copy,” I joke, chuckling softly.

Sam laughs and nods his head. “Definitely,” he says with a smile, taking the last drink of his coffee. “You want a refill?” He asks, nodding to my now empty cup on the table.

I look at the time on my watch. “Sounds good, thanks. I should head inside too and start breakfast,” I say softly. I stand up and start to take off his jacket. “Thanks for the jacket,” I say.

Sam shakes his head. “You can keep it; I have a ton back at the bunker. Here, I’ll grab your stuff,” he says, gently closing my laptop and both of our mugs.

“Oh, thank you. I could’ve grabbed those,” I say with a smile. It’s easy to smile with Sam.

Sam jets out his bottom lip and shakes his head. “It’s all good. Just remember when you make it to the big time who carried your laptop inside,” he jokes, opening the door and letting me walk through first.

I laugh and smile. “I won’t. Nobody forgets a hero,” I say a little more flirtily than I intended to. But Sam smiles and laughs.

It seems like today is going to be a lot better than yesterday. I feel more relaxed and at ease with the journey ahead of me, like I’m already home.

Chapter Text

Dean

Maybe y/n isn’t so bad. I’m not saying that because she made me breakfast, either. She actually knows her stuff, even after I drilled her on the different ways to kill monsters. She answered them all correctly, even when I tried to trick her.

I can’t lie and say she isn’t attractive either. The way her long brown hair flows down her back and goddamn that smile. It’s a smile that can make a man do bad things. And I’ve done some of the worst. The only complaint I have is that she’s wearing Sam’s jacket. And even that isn’t really a complaint because of how good she looks in it. But a part of me wishes it was mine she was wearing instead.

She’s fucking funny too. When she made breakfast, she did this whole bit where she put whipped cream on her hand, hit her wrist with the other, and tried to catch it in her mouth. Something about it being a TikTok trend? I don’t know what that means, but what I do know is that it shouldn’t have made my dick as hard as it did.

I briefly look at her as she sits between me and Sam on the couch, watching a horror movie she picked out. How she got Sam to watch one? I’ll never know. Her hands are sitting on her lap as her eyes are glued to the screen where a father is trying to rescue his son from ‘the other side’ as the old woman in the movie called it.

“Do you really believe in this stuff?” I ask her quietly.

She turns to me, looking up at me with those big brown eyes. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve heard of astral projection before, but it’s never worked for me,” she shrugs her shoulders.

“Where did you try to go?” Sam asks from her other side, pressing pause on the movie.

She looks at him before facing forward again, trying to hide the blush that’s appearing on her cheeks. “It’s stupid,” she says softly.

“Oh, come on, tell us,” I tease her lightly, nudging her with my elbow.

She smiles and rolls her eyes, looking up to the ceiling. “Here, actually,” she says to the ceiling. “I always imagined what it would be like here, and a part of me still thinks I’m dreaming sometimes.” She says looking back down to her hands in her lap.

I can’t help but chuckle softly. “You mean you tried to come here in a dream to a world full of monsters when you were perfectly safe in yours?” I ask her, trying to wrap my head around the concept. I’ve dreamed of living in a world with no monsters, but she actually wants to risk facing them.

“We have monsters too, maybe not the kind you guys have here. But we have them, the only difference is in this world, you can make your own justice. In mine, you have to rely on crooked judges, disbelieving jurors, and overworked, entry-level prosecutors,” she explains with a certain degree of pain and a tinge of anger in her voice. She clenches her hands in her lap for a moment before she takes a deep breath and releases them. “Or family members who don’t believe you.” She whispers.

I look over her at Sam, whose brows are furrowed in confusion like mine.

What do I even say to that? And what is she talking about? What happened to her?

Sam puts a hand on the top of her back, instantly making me want to take it off. It’s a weird feeling because I never get jealous, but is that what this knot of anger in my stomach is? Or is it about whatever this girl has gone through that makes her believe she’s safer in a world where she could be ripped to shreds, over a world where the worst of the worst are only humans?

“I’m sorry for whatever you went through, y/n. And you’re right. The justice system does suck—”

“Says the one who wanted to be a lawyer,” I scoff.

Sam throws me an annoyed glare. “Yeah, to advocate for victims, not victimize them all over again on the stand,” Sam fires back at me.

My eyes go back to y/n, who’s quickly wiping away tears. “Listen, I don’t want to be the weepy girl with a sad story. What happened to me happened, and there’s nothing I can do to change it,” she says, looking between me and Sam, she takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to dump my trauma on you guys. I mean, we barely know each other. We just met yesterday. I just want to try to forget about it, okay?” She says, looking between us again.

Sam and I both nod our heads in understanding. Her business is her business. Don’t get me wrong, I’m curious. But a person’s past is something that belongs to them, and they shouldn’t feel obligated to share it if they don’t want too. She silently accepts our nods with one of her own, and we finish watching ‘Insidious’ and end up watching the second one while Bobby heads out for pizza.

Sam

“Hey man, grab me another while you’re up, will ya?” Dean asks with a smirk from the table, waving his empty bottle of beer.

I roll my eyes and look over at y/n. “You need another one, too?” I ask her, not bothered at all.

She smiles and shakes her head. “I’m good, Sam, thanks though.”

I nod once and smile back before looking at Bobby. “Bobby? You need another while I’m up?”

Bobby shakes his head, finishing off his bottle. “I’m good. I’m fixing to head to bed here soon,” he turns to y/n as I hand Dean his beer and sit back down across from y/n. “You gonna be alright with these two idjits?” He asks her, only half joking.

“Hey! We’re not that bad,” Dean quips, swallowing his bite of pizza.

I laugh and shake my head. Bobby raises his scruffy eyebrows at Dean while y/n covers her mouth, trying not to laugh. “Oh really? Who damn near set my whole property on fire trying to get rid of a vamp body?” Bobby shoots back.

I lean back in my chair, sipping my beer, thoroughly enjoying their back and forth.

“Got rid of the body, though, didn’t I?” Dean quips back.

I lock eyes with y/n, who’s trying so hard to hide the fact she’s laughing behind her hand.

Bobby stands up from the table. “Yeah, yeah. Just try not to burn anything down tonight, will ya?” He says as he places his plate in the sink.

“Scouts honor,” Dean raises his hands with a smile that he directs to y/n, even throwing in a wink.

Damn. Really laying it on thick, huh, Dean?

I can’t help but feel irritated that he’s flirting with her. But really, how can I when I was doing the same thing just this morning? Man, when she called me her hero… I felt my heart beat faster for the first time since Eileen died.

I swore I’d never fall for anyone again, given the fact they always die. But she told us that she couldn’t die earlier. At least she can’t die by anything in this world. But crazy shit happens to us damn near every day.

I’m not proud to admit that I’ve adopted Dean’s ‘hit it and quit it’ attitude when we have cases. But not nearly as much as he does, just enough to blow off steam once in a while.

I don’t want to do that with y/n. I feel like I have a real potential to be good friends with her.

And maybe more.

No. No, I can’t think like that. She’s technically Bobby’s daughter. Another bombshell dropped on us earlier. But how can I just be friends with her when, deep down, I know I might want something more?

“Sam?” Her sweet voice brings me back from my spiraling thoughts.

I look up and smile at her. “Yeah? Sorry,” I try to brush it off, running my hands through my hair.

She laughs and shakes her head. “I said goodnight,” she says with a tired smile. My jacket practically swallows her, and one side hangs off her shoulder. She looks damn good in it, too. I can’t help but wonder what she looks like wearing nothing at all.

“Oh, you’re heading to bed already?” I ask her, unable to help but feel disappointed.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Well, I’m going to write a bit more before I actually go to bed. But yeah, I am heading to my room for the night.”

I nod my head twice. “Working on your same story from this morning?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going for another minute or two.

A cute blush tints her cheeks. She blushes so easily, and I love it. “Um, yeah, maybe. I have a few other stories I’m working on, too, so I’ll just see where my brain takes me.”

I smile and nod my head. “Well, if you ever want to bounce ideas off someone, I’m here,” I say back to her.

Her body stiffens slightly. “Yeah, maybe. The other ones are usually just for me, kind of a creative outlet when I have writer’s block from my novels,” she looks down at her feet.

I feel like she’s hiding something. Or holding something back, and I want to know what it is. I want to know everything about her. But I’ll let it go for now.

“I understand completely,” I smile at her. “Coffee in the morning?” I ask hopefully.

Y/n smiles and nods her head. “I’m Looking forward to it. Goodnight, Sammy,” she catches herself. “I’m sorry. I forgot. Only Dean can call you that,” she apologizes.

I wave my hand. “It’s okay, you can call me Sammy,” I smile at her, and she relaxes. “Maybe we can come up with a nickname for you in the morning,” I smirk.

She sucks her lips into her mouth, trying to stifle a smile as she nods. “Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Goodnight, y/n,” I say as she gives me one last smile before exiting the kitchen and walking up the stairs.

When I get into the living room, Dean is already passed out on the couch. I thank God that he wasn’t awake for that conversation I had with her. I don’t need him waking up and interfering with my time with her in the morning. Those belong to us now.

Woah, a bit possessive there, huh?

I brush the thought off as I kick my boots off and lay down, pulling the blanket over my body. As I drift off to sleep, I think about nicknames for the girl upstairs that don’t come off too strong but also let her know I’m interested. Because fuck it, I am. It’s a fine line to walk, but as I think of nicknames, I also find myself wishing I was lying down next to her as she writes, holding her close to me as we both fall asleep.

It’s been too long since I’ve had that, and hopefully, it won’t be much longer before I have it again.

Chapter Text

Y/n

“So they make a deal to keep her secret if she gives them her body?” Sam asks as he sips his coffee. I tighten his jacket around me to shield my body from the chilly morning breeze. “Isn’t that extortion?” He asks, confused.

I shake my head, taking a sip from my mug as Sam sits in front of my computer. “No,” I chuckle. Sam narrows his eyes slightly, waiting for me to explain. I sigh and sit forward. “Well, maybe it is. But it’s different in dark romance. In these kinds of books, it’s not just extortion. It’s a trope called ‘enemies to lovers,’” I make quotation marks with my fingers, emphasizing the uniqueness of the concept.

Sam nods his head. “Oh, I get it now. So they hate each other at first but grow to love each other later?” He asks, his voice intrigued. I nod in agreement. I like talking about books with Sam. He asks questions but doesn’t judge. Sitting on the porch in the mornings and sipping coffee has become our little routine the last few days, and it’s nice to have a man’s perspective when I’m writing from dual points of view. “And a trope is what the book is about?” He asks.

I sway my head from side to side like a scale. “Kind of, yeah. It’s a type of plot, but there’s a bunch of different ones, too. There are enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, found family, the one-bed trope,” I count them on my fingers.

“One-bed trope?” Sam asks with a chuckle. “What’s that? They share a bed?” Sam asks.

I giggle and nod. “Basically. But usually, there is some reason they have to share one. Like staying in a hotel and there’s only a single bedroom left, or it comes to either freezing to death or sharing a bed to share warmth. Or something else like that.” I smile.

Sam sits back and sips his coffee, his lips coming up to a small smile. “And here I thought I’ve read it all,” he quips playfully, his surprise evident in his tone.

I laugh softly. “Don’t worry, not a lot of men read them. So it’s not surprising most men don’t like to read about stalking, obsession, or ‘touch her and die’ type of stories.”

Now, it’s Sam who laughs. “Well, count me in. I love it,” he smiles at me. I try to hide my blush that creeps up and heats my cheeks.

“Do you have any recommendations?” Sam asks, looking at me,

“Recommendations?” I ask, curious.

“Like on other books like that, I want to read more and I know you just started this one, so I’m wondering if you have any recommendations on other books like this until you’re done.” He says with a slight blush on his cheeks as well as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Oh, yeah. I have some upstairs that I brought with me. I’m not sure if the same authors from my world exist here or if they write the same books. You can look through them if you want,” I offer with a smile.

Sam smiles widely. “I’d love to, if you don’t mind, of course. I promise I’ll be careful with them.”

I stand up, Sam’s jacket hanging just above my knees. “Come on, I don’t mind. I trust you.” I smile, biting the corner of my bottom lip.

I watch Sam as his eyes land on my lip between my teeth before he looks me in my eyes and stands up. “Lead the way.” He says with a smile.

We sneak back inside and pass Dean, who is still passed out on the couch. We walk quietly up the stairs, and Sam follows me into my bedroom.

I pull some of my favorites off my bookshelf and sit down on the bed with Sam. “These are some of my favorites, but there’s more on the shelf if you want to look,” I say, spreading out the books between us.

“I trust you,” Sam says with a smirk, repeating my own words back to me and making heat pool deep inside my belly.

I smile softly and let my hair fall around the edges of my face. “This one is my all-time favorite,” I say, handing him a copy of ‘Sick Boys’ by Clarissa Wild. “It’s a reverse harem, a college bully romance.”

Sam takes the book in his hands carefully, looking and the skull and serpent on the cover. “And a reverse harem is three of them and one of her, right?” He asks.

I nod. “Yeah, it’s mostly what I read, but I have singular stories too. I probably should’ve grabbed those first,” I say, standing up, embarrassed that I didn’t think of that sooner.

I feel Sam’s hand around my wrist, pulling me back. “It’s okay. I want to read your favorites,” he says with a smirk. I watch his mouth as his tongue peaks out slightly and glides between his lips.

I feel my breath catch in my chest.

Seriously. Why is it so damn hot when men do that?

“Oh, okay,” I say softly as my eyes move up to meet him again. Unable to form any other words as my brain seems unable to focus on anything else besides his hand on my wrist.

Sam pulls my wrist, gently guiding me back to sit on my bed again before he lets go. “But I think your stories will be my favorites. Do you have any completed ones?” He asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I have a couple on my shelf, but just be warned, they’re mostly smut.” I chuckle softly.

Sam’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles. “Is that so?” He quips, leaning back on my bed with his palms. “Hit me.”

I smile and grab two of my novels from my bookshelf, handing them to him. “Do you write fanfiction?” He asks, looking over the covers of my books.

“Oh, um… Sort of,” I try to lie, wishing I had tried harder when Sam looks up at me. “It’s more of a hobby, really. It helps with writer’s block.” I defend myself from any potential criticism.

“Do you write about us?” He asks, not with criticism but with genuine interest.

I hug myself, wishing I had just said no. “Maybe,” I say softly as I turn to look at my bookshelf again.

I feel Sam standing behind me before I feel his hand on my shoulder. “I’m not like Becky, though. My stories are actually stories.” I say, not meeting Sam’s gaze as he leans over me slightly, pressing his body against my back.

“I know you’re not y/n. Her stories aren’t even close to yours,” he says as his other hand lands gently on the top of my arm. I feel butterflies erupt inside of my stomach, his praise pooling deep inside of my stomach. “What are they about?” He asks in a husky voice.

I let out a shaky breath as his hand slowly glides down my arm. “Do you write write about all of us?” He asks in my ear.

“Sometimes…” I say softly, every nerve in my body firing as his hands touch me over my clothes.

“What about the other times?” He asks, pressing against me a little more; I feel his erection on the small of my back.

“Some- sometimes just one of you,” I say softly.

I feel Sam’s grip on my shoulder and arm tighten a little more. “And what happens in these stories?” He asks in a low voice.

I let out a breath, leaning back slightly against his strong frame.

Do I tell him how I write about them railing me?

“Do you write about us taking you? About me taking you?” He asks, pulling a piece of my hair over my shoulder, allowing him to watch my face as I finally meet his smoldering gaze.

Unable to bring myself to verbally agree, I simply nod once. I watch as he releases a deep breath, his eyes flickering between my lips and my eyes. “Do I treat you like the men in your books?” He asks, keeping one hand on my other arm and lifting his opposite hand to tip my chin up to his face. “Answer me with your words y/n.”

“Y-yes,” I breathe out, wondering if he’ll kiss me. Wondering if I want him to.

Of course I do.

A low growl comes from his throat, taking me by surprise, given that I thought a man growling only happened in books. My heart rate picks up as I watch his face come down to my neck before he whispers in my ear. “Send them to me.” He lifts his head to look into my eyes, his face so close I can feel his warm breath graze across my lips. “Understood?”

“Understood,” I say in a small gasp, biting my bottom lip as I feel my arousal soaking my panties between my thighs, clenching them together, dying for any bit of friction I can find.

Sam looks at my lip between my teeth, letting out a breath. “Good girl.” He says huskily, his eyes locked on mine again as he slowly closes the gap between us.

Fuck me. Please call me that again.

“Sam! Y/n!” Dean calls from downstairs, breaking us apart just as our lips graze against each other. “Where are you?” Dean calls again, this time from right outside my bedroom door.

My door opens, and Dean stops in his tracks as he sees Sam and I so close together. Sam still pressed against my back, and his head tilted down to mine.

For just a moment, it seems as though jealousy crosses over Dean’s face, but as soon as it appears, it disappears again. Dean clears his throat as Sam stays rooted behind me. “They’re here. Bobby said come downstairs.” Dean says flatly, his jaw clenching and unclenching before he turns and walks away, leaving my door open.

I love Dean, but right now…

Fucking cock block.

Sam clears his throat and steps back, his warmth leaving my back, and I fight the urge to pull him back against me again. Was I dreaming? Was he really going to kiss me? Is the moment lost?

“To be continued,” Sam says with a smile on the corner of his lips. I smile and nod.

“To be continued,” I repeat his words back to him as he grabs the book I gave him and leads me out of my bedroom and downstairs again.

Downstairs, I actively make sure not to stand too close to Sam, hiding from Dean’s gaze that I feel over my entire body. Instead, I stand closer to Bobby.

“Darlin’, you know Cas and Jack, right?” Bobby asks me as Castiel and Jack enter from the kitchen. I nod slightly, thanking Chuck that Bobby didn’t catch on to me and Sam alone in my bedroom.

Castiel looks at me with a wary expression but extends his hand to me anyway. “Hello, y/n. I am Castiel,” he shakes my hand.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I say softly as I pull my hand back and see Castiel’s expression soften.

“This is my son, Jack,” Cas says as Jack stands by his side with a wide smile.

I smile softly and extend my hand. But instead of shaking my hand, Jack pulls me into a hug. “Hi, I’m Jack. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Jack pulls back and smiles. “Dean talks about you a lot,” Jack turns to Dean. “You’re right, Dean. She is really pretty.”

I can’t help but blush as Dean rolls his eyes and Sam chuckles behind his hand.

“Right, well. Who’s hungry? I was thinking I could run to the diner and grab us some grub, and we can talk next steps,” Bobby says, clearing his throat. “You gonna be alright here?” Bobby asks me.

I nod. “I’ll be fine, Bobby, thanks.”

“Well, alright then, I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he says, grabbing his keys and opening the front door before turning back. “Behave,” he says sternly, mostly to Sam and Dean.

Dean scoffs. “Not like I was the one in her bedroom,” Dean mutters as Bobby closes the door.

Sam elbows Dean in his side. “Dude,” Sam mutters.

Dean rolls his eyes again and heads to the kitchen. “I need a beer.”

Castiel and Jack both look towards me and Sam, who is now standing back at my side.

“Is that Sam’s jacket?” Jack asks me curiously.

Sam chuckles as I nod my head. “Oh, yeah. I got cold.”

Jack nods with a smile. Castiel says something to Sam at my side that I can’t hear before he follows behind Dean with Jack.

“He doesn’t like me, does he?” I ask Sam quietly, feeling disappointed. I wanted their feelings toward me to be real, but out of all of them, I thought Castiel would be more welcoming.

Sam wraps an arm around my shoulders. “He just doesn’t know you yet, that’s all. It’ll be okay,” Sam turns me and gives me a big hug, and I feel all of the worry fade from my mind.

Can I just stay in his arms forever?

Chapter Text

Dean

“So yeah, that’s basically everything,” y/n finishes explaining to Cas and Jack. We’re sitting around the living room, full from the breakfast Bobby got.

Cas looks over at me, and I raise an eyebrow and shrug. I didn’t believe it at first, either, so I don’t blame him.

“Wow, so… I became God?” Jack asks, his voice tinged with disbelief and excitement.

“Yeah, you took his powers and became a great God.” She says sweetly, sitting between me and Sam and looking at Jack across the coffee table as he sits next to Cas.

“If Jack is such a good God, then why would we want to change that?” Cas asks her, his tone stiff and wary. He can be an ass when he first meets people, and I feel y/n stiffen beside me.

Sam answers before she can, placing a hand on her knee and leaning forward. “Nobody is saying that’s for sure what’s going to happen; all she’s saying is that God asked her to help him be better,” Sam defends her.

I watch as she looks up at my brother with a small smile on her face. Maybe I should’ve made my move sooner. Maybe then it’d be my hand on her knee and not his.

When I walked into her bedroom, I could feel the energy between them. Her eyes were slightly hooded as her lips grazed his. The sight made a wave of jealousy course through my veins. I want her too, be I guess fair is fair. I can get my fill anytime, and I do. But something inside of me feels like with her, I’d never want another woman again.

You know what? Two can play that game, Sammy.

“I’m just saying, how do we know she’s telling the truth?” Cas asks, leaning his elbows on his knees.

I put my arm over her shoulders on the back of the couch. “Why doesn’t she call him up,” I look down at y/n at my side. “You can do that, can’t you princess?” I wink, watching a blush rise to her cheeks and her expression fluster.

“Oh… Um, I don’t know. I, I haven’t tried,” she says sheepishly. Sam throws me a look over her shoulder, but it’s not jealousy like I was expecting. Instead, he smiles, his eyebrows raising.

I turn my attention back to the girl between us on the couch as she fiddles with her fingers in her lap. I decide to push it a little further, and I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you pray to him?”

Y/n

Pray to God? I guess I should try. What’s going on with Dean, though? He seemed so mad when he came into my bedroom, essentially walking in on me and Sam. And now, he is being so touchy. The air feels thick between us, and I can’t bear to face Sam, scared that he will be mad now.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, sending out a silent prayer.

Chuck?

I’m not sure if I’m doing this right, and I’m not sure if you’re watching what’s happening, but… Can you come? I mean, Castiel is on the fence about trusting me. I want to help you be a better God.

I need you to answer and come here to prove I’m telling the truth.

You wanted to show me you could be a better God. Here’s an opportunity.

I’m not really sure how to end this prayer, but I guess amen?

Yeah, that sounds good.

Amen.

“The ‘amen’ was a little unnecessary, but good job, y/n,” Chuck says, appearing suddenly at the end of the couch.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathes next to me,

“You weren’t kidding. It really is Chuck,” Sam says, looking at me.

Castiel stands and faces Chuck. “Father,” he says flatly.

Chuck laughs and pats Castiel on the shoulder. “Chuck is fine, Castiel. I haven’t been a very good father,” he turns to Jack, and Castiel instantly stands in front of him. Chuck seems to understand his protectiveness and takes a step back. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. You look very much like your mother.” Chuck smiles.

“You know my mom?” Jack asks, his voice laced with innocence.

Chuck smiles and nods. “I do, and I want you to know she is very happy in her heaven. She told me you were the best thing she ever did,” Chuck says softly.

I watch as Jack seems to choke back a tear. “Thank you,” he responds softly.

Chuck nods once and turns back to the rest of us, his gaze landing on me. “You prayed?” Chuck asks.

I nod. “Yes, Castiel is struggling to believe that you brought me here with good intentions,” I briefly explain, trying not to throw Castiel completely under the bus.

Chuck smiles and moves to speak to us all at once. “It’s true. I did bring y/n here. Although you don’t remember, I wasn’t a good God the last time around, which ultimately led me to my death. Fully deserved,” Chuck raises his hands. “But I want to be better. I want to follow the path that Jack chose as God instead.”

“And what was that path exactly?” Sam asks as his hand still rests on my knee.

“Free will,” Chuck says plainly. “I want you all to have the freedom to make your own choices, your own mistakes. No more meddling from me.”

“Right. And you’re just doing this out of what? Compassion? Because it doesn’t seem like you’ve had that a lot in the past. We’ve lost people, Chuck. Good people. People who didn’t deserve to die. And it seems like you just snuffed them out,” Dean says with a tinge of anger in his voice.

Chuck nods once. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right, Dean. I did end the lives of those you hold close. But I want to make it right,” Chuck says sincerely.

“Yeah? Then bring them back. Bring them all back,” Dean says, his hand clenching the couch behind me as I feel his anger rising.

I don’t know how else to help at that moment, so I do what I feel is right. I place my hand gently on Dean’s thigh just above his knee. I look at Sam, hoping he won’t be angry, and to my surprise, he isn’t. Instead, he nods his head once and gives me a soft smile, which I return before turning back to Dean.

“I wish I could, Dean, I really do. But I can’t bring back everyone. But what I can do, is I can bring back three. Three people,” Chuck holds up three fingers on his hand. “You don’t have to decide right now. Take your time and think about it. Pray, and I promise I will answer.”

“Thought you said you were done meddling,” Castiel says from the side.

Chuck sighs and turns to face Castiel who is back sitting down next to Jack. “I think after everything you all have been through, a few exceptions are allowed. Castiel, I understand that you feel abandoned, but I swear to you that I only have good intentions this time around,” Chuck motions to Jack. “You know as well as I do how Nephilim are perceived. But I will never do anything to harm Jack, and I won’t allow the other angels to either. As a matter of fact, I am going back to heaven. Things are a mess up there, and it’s about time I stepped back in and got everyone back on track.”

Seemingly pleased with Chuck’s explanation, Castiel nods. “My orders?”

Chuck smiles. “Take care of Jack, protect the ones you love, and be happy. You’re a good soldier, Castiel, my angel of Thursday. You do that, and your work is complete.”

Bobby clears his throat from behind his desk, finally speaking after sitting there in silence since we all came in here. “I have a question.” He says, rising from his seat.

“Of course Robert, what is it?” Chuck asks with a smile.

Bobby takes a deep breath. “Is y/n my daughter?” He asks, leaving the rest of us silent.

I bite the inside of my cheek as Sam grips my knee tighter, and Dean’s arm around my shoulder holds me tighter.

After what feels like hours, Chuck finally speaks. “Technically, she is your flesh and blood. But no, she is not your daughter.”

I feel my shoulders and chest deflate as I watch Bobby have the same reaction. His face falling breaks my heart.

“But,” Chuck speaks again. “A wise man once said that family doesn’t end in blood, and it doesn’t start there either,” Chuck moves to Bobby’s side and places a hand on his shoulder. “Whether she is or isn’t your daughter is something for the two of you to define.”

Bobby nods and looks at me. I give him a smile, which he returns softly.

Chuck moves back to the center of the room. “Any other questions for now?” Chuck asks us all. Everyone looks at each other for a moment before we face him again and shake our heads no. “Alright then, I’ll be heading out. If you need me, just send a prayer.” Chuck says with a smile before saluting with a smile and disappearing in a cloud of shimmery white vapor that vanishes behind him just a moment later.

Nobody really knows what to say at first. It’s as if reality hasn’t really quite set in yet. The minutes seem to tick by before Castiel is the first one to finally speak.

“I apologize, y/n,” he says, looking up at me from his seat across from me.

I faintly smile, trying to ease the tension. His crystal blue eyes feel as if they bore into mine, waiting for me to accept his apology. “It’s okay,” I respond softly. I understand why he didn’t trust me at first, even if it hurt. Dean was the same way when I first met him, and now… I don’t even know what his feelings are.

I look sideways at Dean, scrolling through his phone. His arm still draped behind me on the couch. Is this him flirting? Is he just being friendly? Or something else entirely?

Sam and I almost kissed. Maybe it would’ve even gone further if Dean hadn’t walked in. Did I want it to go further? Of course I did; I still do. But now I feel tugged toward Dean, too. It’s too much. I need some air.

Excusing myself, I walk out the front door. I glimpse at the wooden rocking chairs and small wooden table on the porch where Sam and I have made a routine of sitting at in the mornings.

Not wanting to delve into the memories, I keep walking. The garage on the right side of the property seems as good a place as any to seek some solitude. The metal hinges creak as I push open the door. The scent of dust and motor oil seeps into my nose. From what Bobby told me, this place hasn’t really been used since the salvage yard was bustling with business. Back before his wife died, when he started to hunt.

Was his wife my mom? Chuck said I was his flesh and blood, but he didn’t say anything about his wife. Should I even ask?

No, probably not. Bobby doesn’t talk about her, and if I’ve learned one thing in my twenty-three years of life, it’s if someone doesn’t tell, don’t ask.

In the back corner, I find a table with tools that have not been used in years. The thin layer of rust under the thicker layer of dust proves that.

Picking up a wrench, I examine it. I wipe the layer of dust off with my thumb, not thinking. Not wanting to think. Part of me wishes to just go back to my world where I’m safe and alone in my one-story cottage-style home. Alone with my things, my books, my novels that don’t sell very well. Alone with a father who essentially disowned me for wanting to be my own person.

I know that millions of fans would kill to be in my shoes right now. Just happy to be in the world they found solace in when ours got too overwhelming. But that’s exactly how I feel right now. Overwhelmed. Different.

I can’t say that I don’t feel welcome because I do. So why can’t I just be happy? Why can’t I just be grateful?

“Are you okay?”

I jump. I didn’t hear anyone else come inside. I turn around, still holding the wrench in my fingers. It’s Jack. The light peaking through the cracks of the wooden walls illuminates his features as he steps closer, carefully, as if I’m a wounded animal backed into a corner. Ready to strike.

Maybe I am a wounded animal. Maybe I’m broken.

“I’m fine, Jack,” I lie, hoping he will just leave me alone.

Jack takes another step closer. “You’re not broken, y/n,” he says calmly. “And you’re not a wounded animal.”

How did he know that’s what I’m thinking? I shake my head, looking down at the wrench in my fingers. “How do you know?” I ask, unable to stop the words as they come out.

Jack sighs softly. “Because what you’re feeling right now is exactly how I felt when I was born. Lost, like you don’t belong,” he says, his voice tinged with a bit of hurt. “We’ve all felt that way at one point or another. But you do belong here.”

My eyes singe with the threat of tears that want to fall. I blink them back, clearing my throat to get rid of the lump that formed there. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say softly, still looking at the wrench, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Jack asks, moving to stand in front of me.

I take a breath, trying to collect myself. I finally meet his golden eyes. “I know I’m here to help Chuck be better, but I don’t know how to do that. He didn’t give me any instructions. I don’t know why I’m still here,” I look around the garage. “If he wanted me in this world, he could’ve dropped me anywhere. But he took me here.”

Jack seems to think over my words for a moment before he finally speaks. “Maybe he brought you here, to us, because he knows how much you could help. Here.” He says, taking the wrench from my grasp.

I can’t help the scoff that escapes my throat. “They don’t need my help.”

Jack raises an eyebrow, shakes his head, and laughs softly. “You think so?” He asks, looking into my eyes. When I don’t respond, he continues. “Because I haven’t seen, or heard, Dean be this happy, ever. I’ve never seen Sam connect with someone the way he does with you,” his voice falters for a moment. “I’ve never seen Cas look at someone the way he does with you.”

I’m lost for words. How does he notice these things? How did I miss them?

Without asking, Jack pulls me into his arms. He hugs me tenderly, rubbing his hand between my shoulder blades. “You belong here, y/n. Even if you can’t see it yet.”

His voice is gentle and calm, and his touch is loving and platonic. Jack doesn’t expect me to react. He just does what he feels is right. Like a friend you’ve known since childhood, you feel the kind of love that isn’t romantic in any way but just as strong.

And that is something worth fighting for.

Chapter Text

Sam

Bobby sighs, grabs his hat, and retreats to his bedroom. I don’t blame him. How do you even begin to cope with God saying that the girl that he drops into your life is your flesh and blood but not your daughter? I went to Stanford, and even I don’t know what to say to him at this moment to make sense of it.

Dean watches out the bay window in the living room, no doubt looking for where y/n ran off. I step up next to him, not making eye contact. “She’ll be okay,” I say to Dean, looking out the window. I don’t know why I’m comforting him. I don’t know why I didn’t care when he was trying to hit on her right next to me. I encouraged it.

Was it because of my boost of ego when she returned to me? Was it because it was fun to pull her back from him, knowing she’d come? No, it feels more profound than that. Something I’ve never felt before.

Dean sighs and shakes his head, moving away from the window and walking into the kitchen, no doubt grabbing a beer. Cas steps up next to me, probably looking for Jack after he chased after her.

“She won’t hurt him, will she?” Cas asks, his tone still suspicious.

I hold back my scoff of annoyance. God told him she is here to help, and he thinks she’ll hurt him. “No. She won’t hurt him,” I look over at him. “And I won’t even dignify asking you if he’ll hurt her because I trust him. The least you can do is pretend to give her that same respect.”

Cas meets my eyes, his jaw clenched. He knows I’m right; I saw how he looked at her after she was proven innocent. It’s the same look I see when he looks at Dean. The glance was short-lived, but it was there even if he won’t admit it. Yet.

“I’m sorry,” Cas apologizes softly. “I should’ve trusted you and Dean enough to give her the benefit of the doubt. It’s just,” he sighs. “Jack is my son, maybe not biologically… But he’s still my son, and I know he sees you and Dean in the same light.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. I know he does, hell. Jack already calls himself a ‘Winchester’. The first time he called himself by our last name, there was no pride like that. Being a father has always been a dream of mine, and I know it was for Dean, too. Even if he never admits it, even if he never allows himself to believe it’s possible.

“I know Cas,” I say lowly. “I can’t pretend I don’t understand because I know how Dean felt when he first met Jack,” I exhale deeply. “But she’s here. And in… whatever aspect… she’s in our lives now. As far as I’m concerned, she’s one of us now.”

Cas nods. “She really is beautiful,” he says, looking out the window.

Little out of left field, okay…

I turn to see what he’s looking at outside the window. Y/n and Jack walk back up to the house. “Yeah, she is,” I answer.

Castiel

I shouldn’t have been so hard on her. I know that. I could see she isn’t evil, and her soul is pure, wounded, but pure nonetheless. But being a parent means protecting your child, and I’d sooner toss myself into purgatory again than let something happen to Jack because I didn’t see it coming. Because I wasn’t paying attention.

The front door opens, and Jack and y/n walk inside. And the smile on her face…

I feel my dick strain inside of my pants, pressing uncomfortably against the fabric. Why? I know what it means to be aroused. I have taken my fair share of lovers. But I have never been aroused by a smile in all my eons of existence.

Her eyes wander around the room before meeting mine. My chest tightens when she bites the corner of her lower lip.

How would it feel to feel my teeth pulling on her lips?

How soft are they?

What do her lips taste like?

What does she taste like?

I imagine she tastes like honey, sweet and warm. I shouldn’t be thinking of her like this. Sam and Dean obviously have feelings for her, and I shouldn’t butt in. But that doesn’t mean I can’t imagine what she would look like, laid down on her back, her skin bared and ready for the taking.

How she would look as she cums on my tongue or my dick buried deep inside of her, pushing her over the edge again and again.

“Castiel?” Her sweet voice breaks my trance. I blink a few times, breaking the eye contact.

I hope I wasn’t projecting my vision. If she saw that…

“Yes?” I respond, taking note of the tiny bead of sweat that drips down the side of her neck, doing my best not to walk over and lick it off with my tongue.

She bites her bottom lip, and her cheeks flush.

She definitely saw.

Good, little one.

“I was just wondering if I could speak to you,” she says softly, fiddling her fingers in front of her.

I nod once, not answering verbally as I walk out the front door, and she follows me. I lead against the porch railing, facing her and waiting for her to speak.

“I, um,” she stumbles, trying to find the words she needs. She takes a deep breath and looks me directly in the eyes as she speaks. “I know you find it hard to trust me. I would too if you just randomly popped into my world saying you were trying to help my enemy be better,” she stiffens, finding her ground. “But you have to understand that part of the deal I made before I came here was that I would never hurt any of you. Especially Jack.”

I nod, letting her know I understand, and she continues. “As a matter of fact, I told Chuck that if he didn’t prove himself to be a better God, I would help Jack kill him myself.”

My eyes widen slightly in surprise.

Did she really?

I look deep into her eyes, searching her soul for the truth, and I find it.

She’s telling the truth.

“So yes, I understand you’re distrustful of me. But there’s something else you should know,” she steps up to me, her breasts under her shirt brushing against my chest, making me suck in a breath. “Chuck made me immortal. You may be able to hurt me, but nothing can kill me. And if it comes down to it, I will fight til the death of anyone who stands in my way of saving your world,” her eyes narrow slightly. “And I mean, anyone.”

Fuck, this woman…

She steps back again, her face relaxing. “And to answer your question, yes. I saw your vision.” She winks and walks back inside, leaving me alone, gripping the railing and clinging to whatever shreds of my sanity are left.

Y/n

Did I admit to seeing the vision Castiel had?

Holy shit…

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my clit pulse. I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t want him to do what he did in his vision. Between Sam, Dean, and now Castiel? How would I choose? And the biggest question, is how did I see it?

In my fanfics, the reader never has to. But it just feels so far from being canon now that I’m here, living and being around them. I need a break. I need to write and eliminate all of this pent-up energy and arousal.

I make my way to the stairs that lead up to my bedroom, but a hand on my arm stops me as I step up the first stair.

“You okay?” Sam asks me, his eyes filled with concern.

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just going to write for a bit,” I smile softly.

Sam nods, and his eyes relax. “Oh, okay. Well, do you want some company? It’s a little stuffy down here,” he chuckles, and his hand leaves my arm to brush through his hair.

I really should be alone right now, but how can I say no to him? How can I resist?

“Sure, come on,” I say with a small smile, leading him to my room. The room we almost kissed, or more, just a couple of hours ago.

Sam and I sit on my bed, leaning back against the headboard. Writing a spicy scene with him sitting right next to me feels weird. But Sam pulls out my copy of “Sick Boys’ and seems fully delved into it, so I decide just to brush it off.

I pull up my fanfic, ‘Intentions,’ on Google Docs. I pretty much just started it, and the last time I left off, I was just beginning a super smutty foursome scene. I glance over at Sam, making sure he’s not looking, and begin to write.

“Sam takes my free nipple into his mouth, flicking, sucking, and nipping on it as Cas grips my throat again, squeezing the sides as he nips at my bottom lip. “You like all of our mouths on you, don’t you, little girl?” He asks huskily.

“Y-yes.. God, yes.” I manage to moan out softly. My eyes start to roll back as Dean’s tongue enters me, and I feel my thighs begin to shake as my orgasm pools in my stomach.

Cas’s grip on my throat tightens slightly as Dean continues to devour me, and Sam moves his mouth to my other nipple. “That’s our good girl.” He says darkly.

My hands grip the sheets next to my waist as I begin to pant, holding off my release by a fraying thread. “Fuck..” I manage to moan under Cas’s grip as my eyes begin to roll back.

“Don’t hold back, princess. Give it all to us,” Dean says from between my shaking legs. “Cum for us like a good little slut.” He says darkly before his tongue dives back to my clit again, and he sucks and licks it like an animal as his fingers enter me and pump in and out harshly.

I let my orgasm wash over me like a flood. I feel my walls clamp around his pumping fingers as I moan his name while two other men touch and kiss me. It’s euphoric, it’s sinful, and I need more as soon as it’s over.

They don’t keep me waiting, though. With one swift movement, Dean flips me on my stomach, and Cas moves behind me, pulling my hips up in the air as Sam moves to sit on his knees in front of me. Sam lifts my head by my chin to meet his hooded eyes with my own. “You want more, don’t you, baby?” He asks in a gentle voice.

“Yes... I need it...” I breathe out.

“Then show me how much you want it.” He says as he brings his long hard cock up to my mouth.

I part my lips and open my mouth in welcome, and he slides in my mouth, the salty pre-cum coating my tongue as he groans and his jaw drops slightly. “Fuck, that’s it.” He groans.

As he slides in further, I feel the tip of Cas’s cock meet my entrance and slide in, stretching my walls as he slides in further. “So fucking wet, God, yes.” He moans as I moan around Sam’s cock.

They find their rhythm sliding in and out of me faster as they find it. “Rub her clit, Dean.” I hear Cas say behind me as Sam runs his hands through my hair before gripping it and holding my head still, sliding deeper into my throat with more force.

Dean’s fingers find my clit with pinpoint precision, circling over my pulsing clit quickly and making me moan louder against Sam’s cock as Cas grips my hips and fucks me harder and faster. My moans against Sam’s cock make him moan louder and fuck my throat harder, forcing himself in deeper and making my eyes water-”

Sam breathes heavily next to me, pulling my focus to look at him, watching me type.

Should I close my laptop?

“Keep writing,” Sam says darkly, his eyes meeting mine, pupils blown with arousal. I bite my lip and look down at his cock, tenting his sweatpants.

God, he’s huge. Maybe even bigger than I’ve written.

I glance up at him again. “S- Sam?” I say his name in a breathy voice.

Sam peaks his tongue out slightly, licking his lips. “Keep going, y/n,” his voice still husky and dark.

My arousal pools inside of my sleep shorts that I never got the chance to change out of. I decide to push him a little. “Or else what?” I tease, his eyes watching as mine float down to his cock and back up to his eyes again.

A deep growl comes from his throat, traveling right down to my clit and making it pulse. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to show you just how hard it’s going to be for you to walk back down those stairs when I’m finished with you.”

My breath catches in my chest. Sam leans in, brushing his lips against that sweet spot behind my ear. “And I won’t let you stay quiet either. I’ll make everyone hear what a good little slut you are for me as you scream and beg for more.”

Sam moves his face to mine, and I bite my lip, fighting back a smirk. “You wouldn’t dare,” I challenge him.

“Want to bet?”

Chapter Text

Y/n

“Want to bet?” Sam’s husky threat sinks deep down into my core, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Do I want to? Should I want to? I do want to bet. But I shouldn’t. I should leave or make him leave. But I just can’t bring myself to do either of those things.

Sam’s brown eyes stare into mine, waiting for me to either kick him out or accept my fate. My response comes out as a whimper. “Take me.”

That’s all Sam needs to take my laptop and put it carefully on my nightstand. Sam grabs me behind my knees, pulling me further onto my back. His hands slide up my legs, my waist, and under my shirt agonizingly slow. His large hands cup my breasts, and he brings his lips down to mine.

His lips meet mine, kissing me with a firm and tender fever. His tongue slips out, licking my bottom lip, asking permission to enter. I part my lips, allowing him in.

As the kiss deepens, Sam’s hand slides back down my body, grabbing my ass and squeezing. I moan into Sam’s mouth, and my core tightens as he thrusts his hips into mine, his hard cock pressing into my covered slit.

Sam moans as I quiver beneath him, needing more. “Sam…” I plead from under him, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

Sam pulls back, sliding my sleep shorts down my legs and taking off his shirt, revealing his toned and muscular abs, his breath heavy and deep. Sam leans down, lifting me just enough to slide my shirt over my head, leaving me bare before him.

“Fuck,” he says lowly, biting his lip as he looks over my body. He leans down, sliding his thumb down my cheek. “So fucking beautiful,” his thumb moves under my chin, tipping my head up to meet his eyes. “Too bad I’m going to ruin you.”

It’s not a threat this time, but a promise. And I can’t say I’m not ready to agree to it either.

“Seems like you’re all talk and no bite,” I quip, biting my bottom lips, pushing him further towards the edge.

Sam’s eyes darken, a smirk appears only briefly before it fades, and he moves his hand from my face to my throat, grabbing my throat firmly. I suck in a breath; the action makes me clench my thighs around his still-clothed waist.

“Don’t test me, baby girl. It’ll only make it worse for you,” he says darkly. His hand around my throat loosens before he pulls it back and stands up from the bed. I watch him intently as he pulls down his sweats.

A small gasp leaves my throat as his hard cock springs free from his sweats. A few drops of pre-cum glistening on the tip makes my mouth water and my pussy even more wet than it already is.

Sam kicks his sweatpants to the side, stalking back toward me on the bed like a lion stalking its prey. Sam gets back on the bed, kneeling between my knees. He pulls my legs over his shoulders and dips his face down to my pussy, and I watch as his tongue sticks out and licks a long swipe from my entrance to my clit.

A moan escapes my lips as my hips buck slightly, needing more. Sam smirks and licks his lips before his tongue is back on my clit, licking like a man possessed. “Fuck, Sam,” I moan softly, my hands moving to his head, running and gripping his hair with my fingers.

Sam growls against my clit, shifting his weight and sliding two fingers into my entrance. I bite back a louder moan as he curls his fingers, hitting that perfect spot inside of me and thrusting in and out.

I feel the pressure build and build, my orgasm crests, and I start to squirm, my body fighting to free itself from his firm grasp and his devilish tongue on my clit. His tongue leaves my clit only long enough to stare into my eyes and speak. “Put your hands on the fucking headboard, and don’t move them until I’m finished with my meal.”

The gasp that escapes my throat is almost inhuman. “Yes, sir,” I breathe out, not sure if the nickname is okay with him, but it comes out so naturally.

Sam looks up at me again. “That’s my good girl,” he groans as I follow his orders and place my hands above my head, gripping the wooden headboard. Sam’s tongue lands back on my clit, licking and sucking faster as he slides a third finger into my entrance and thrusts harder.

My moans become harder and harder to contain as my legs begin to shake and clench around his head. A few moments later, my orgasm crashes into me with full force, and my neck and back arch in pleasure as Sam rides me through my orgasm.

When the wave finally comes to an end, Sam moves to hover over my heavy-breathing body, licking my arousal off his lips. “You look so beautiful when you come undone for me,” he says against my lips as he leans down and kisses me. “Now be my good girl and cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?” he asks in a husky voice as his hard cock slides against my slit and my sensitive clit.

“Yes, I can, Sammy,” I breathe, my chest heaving in anticipation for how much he’s about to stretch me.

Sam kisses me again, lines himself up with my entrance, and slowly thrusts into me. My eyes roll back as he fills me. “Fuck… Yes…” I moan.

Sam grips my hip with one hand while the other rests by my head, holding himself up. He pulls out to the tip and thrusts in completely, reaching so deep inside of me that it hurts before it slowly melds into pleasure.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sam groans in pleasure, pulling himself out again and thrusting in harder. “Let me hear you come apart for me again,” he says, his thrusts picking up speed and force. “Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.”

I moan louder, my eyes hooded and locked on his. Sam grips my hip harder. “That’s it, baby girl, louder,” he punctuates with a harsher thrust.

“Sam,” I moan louder, so high on arousal that I care less and less who hears it, his dirty words spurring me further as my orgasm pools deep inside of me again.

“Fuck, y/n,” Sam moans, his mouth gaping slightly as his hair hangs slightly over his face. “This pussy was fucking made for me,” he groans, thrusting into me again.

I can feel my orgasm reach its crest, my hips pinned to the bed with the grip of just one of his hands. “It’s yours, Sammy,” I moan louder.

“Damn right, it is,” his hand moves from my hip to my throat again. “But you still want them too, don’t you?” His question throws me for a second, but the look in his eyes isn’t jealousy. It’s something I can’t quite put my finger on. “It’s okay. I know you want them too,” he thrusts, making me moan as his hand squeezes tighter around my throat.

“You enjoy letting them hear me take your sweet fucking pussy, don’t you?” He asks in a husky voice. My head swims with arousal, taking my words so I can only nod. “Then let them fucking hear it,” he growls.

His hand leaves my throat and grabs both of my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head and also holding himself up. He leans back, his now free hand moves to my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit as he pounds into me.

“Yes! Oh God, yes!” I moan loudly, my back arching. “God, please, Sam,” I plead, knowing I’m right on the edge again.

“Please, what?” Sam asks in a dark, almost mocking tone. His thumb rubs my clit faster as his thrusts become even more harsh.

“Please, I need to cum,” I moan pathetically from under him. “Please, let me cum,” I beg.

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” Sam mocks, “Beg me again,” he groans.

“Please, I’ll do anything, please, Sam,” I beg loudly, my eyes prickling with tears, the constant build of my orgasm with no release becoming too much to bear.

Sam’s hands leave my wrist and clit, one hand gripping my hip again while the other wraps in my hair and pulls tightly, forcing me to look at him. “Good girl, look at me when you cum on my cock,” he groans, his cock inside of my twitching, and I know he’s as close as I am.

My entire body shakes in his grasp as my orgasm tears through me like a beast. I practically scream as Sam moans in my ear. He spills himself inside of me as I feel myself clench around him. He thrusts a few more times, riding out both of our highs before he finally withdraws himself from me.

Or breathing settles, and he kisses me softly before taking his shirt and cleaning me up before putting my clothes and his sweats back on.

Just as he’s kissing my forehead again, a knock sounds on my door.

“Bobby’s back. I suggest you two get your asses out here,” Dean says from the other side of the door. His footsteps fall away, and Sam and I look at each other, unable to contain the euphoric laughter.

We can’t undo what we just did, and the fact that clearly, neither of us wants to brings me an even bigger sense of relief and freedom.

I don’t know what lies ahead with Dean or Castiel, if the feelings will grow, or if I’ll have them too. But Sam clearly doesn’t mind and actually seems to get off on the idea. Even if it never becomes anything else between Sam and me or between me, Dean and Castiel, I’m just happy to be along for the ride.

Chapter Text

Y/n

When I walk down the stairs with Sam, I feel like all eyes are on me. Dean said Bobby was ‘back,’ but how soon did he get back? Did he hear me and Sam? I’d die if he did, or Jack.

Fuck, I really didn’t think it through first. I’m usually so good at thinking out all of the possibilities in a situation before I get myself into one.

But I don’t regret it for a second.

“Grub will be ready in about half an hour,” Bobby says, gutting the fish in the kitchen. “Jack, go fire up the grill for me, would ya?” He asks calmly.

Jack leaves out the front door, waving to me. I politely wave back with a small smile before sitting on the couch.

Fuck, I’m so sore.

Sam grabs us each a beer from the kitchen before sitting down next to me, and Dean and Cas sit down across from us with their bottles.

Dean clears his throat, shifting his body. “Next time, keep it down, would you?” He remarks, taking a sip from his beer.

My cheeks heat with embarrassment nod once, taking a sip and moving a few inches away from Sam.

I wish I would’ve stayed quiet.

Goddamnit y/n.

I’m mentally face-palming myself when Sam chuckles and retorts back to Dean. “Don’t act like that. You’re just jealous she came to me, not you,” he says with a smirk.

Dean laughs and shakes his head. “Please, if she came to me first, she’d still be in that bed.”

Dear God, please open up the earth and let it swallow me whole.

Sam nudges me slightly. “See? Told you he’d like it,” Sam winks when I meet his eyes.

“I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed it,” Castiel says lowly, his blue eyes darker. “But I’m not surprised she came to you first,” he takes a sip of his beer. “Humans who copulate with angels tend to be left,” he nods his head from side to side. “Wiped out, as you would say. Sometimes unable to walk for a full day.”

Please erase me from this life.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel all chuckle. Is this a game to them? Am I just a piece of meat to be passed around like a buffet?

Sam’s hand grips my bare knee. “We’re just joking, baby girl, see? I told you they’d be into it.”

“Into what exactly?” Dean quips with a smirk. “What exactly are we signing up for here?” He asks, looking between all of us.

My body tenses, my mind still reeling from the mind-blowing sex I just had with Sam. I don’t know what to say. Sure, I feel like I’ve known them for years. I’ve watched the show a hundred times. I’ve written about them, their lives, and how they are as boyfriends and lovers, but I’m essentially a stranger to them. I don’t know if I’m ready to put a label on anything yet, but they sure seem to be at least open to talking about it.

One thing is certain: writing a poly relationship and actually living in one are two entirely different things.

“I’d think that’d be up to her,” Sam says, turning to me; they all turn to me and put me on the spot.

I look at Castiel, silently praying to him to help me.

Cas, Castiel- whichever name you’re okay with… I’m not ready to define anything yet. Please help me…

Cas seems to hear my prayer, and he nods and clears his throat. “Perhaps it would be best to, as you humans say, ‘go with the flow.’ We don’t want to scare her off,” he says to Sam and Dean.

Sam and Dean nod in understanding, and Sam turns to me again. “He’s right. We shouldn’t put you on the spot like that. I’m sorry,” he acknowledges us all. “Let’s just do what feels right and go from there. Sound good?”

We all nod, agreeing to start at the beginning. Suddenly, I hear Castiel’s voice in my mind.

“Cas is fine, little one. You call me whatever feels right. I can see the shock on your face from hearing my voice, it seems that whatever immortal power Chuck gave you also allows you to hear the voice of angels telepathically. Whenever you need me, just pray in your mind, and I’ll come.”

I nod at Cas, smiling softly and he smiles back as Bobby calls for dinner.

At the dinner table, we try to make a plan, even though Chuck said there’s not much for me to do except wait for his advice on a situation and how to handle it like a good God would.

“Maybe she should come with us when we leave tomorrow,” Dean suggests.

“Like hell she is,” Bobby fires back. “She’s my kid, and she’s not staying at a bunker with you three. I love ya to bits, but you’re still idjits.”

“Maybe it’s not such a bad idea, Bobby. Even if she can’t die, word is going to get around about her powers if they haven’t already, and things are going to come looking for her, wanting that power for themselves, even if they don’t know if or how it can be extracted,” Sam defends Dean’s point calmly.

“What about Bobby? I can’t die, but he can. At least here, I can protect him,” I ask the group.

“It’s you I’m worried about, kiddo,” Bobby says to me softly. “I should be protecting you,” he turns to Sam and Dean. “How do I know this isn’t just to get her alone and have your way with her?” He asks firmly.

I choke on my beer, and Castiel pats my back, helping me suck in precious oxygen.

Dean chuckles, and Sam tries not to. “Whose to say we can’t have our way with her here?” Dean quips, sending a wink my way.

“Boy, I may be an old man, but I’ll still take you over my knee,” Bobby warns.

Now it’s me and Sam trying not to laugh as Dean looks at Bobby sideways. Sam clears his throat. “Bobby, listen, if you want to protect her, then you know the bunker is the safest place for her. It’s warded against everything; nothing can get to her there,” Sam reiterates.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” I ask the group.

“No,” Sam, Dean, and Bobby all say at once.

I roll my eyes and sit back in my chair, waiting for them to argue it out amongst themselves. In the meantime, I talk to Cas in my mind.

“So, who do you think will win?”

Cas smiles next to me.

“I’m not sure. Bobby is strong-willed, but Dean is… Let’s say, motivated.”

I chuckle softly.

“Do you want me to come?”

“That’s a loaded question, little one. What do you mean by ‘come’?”

I smile softly, and so does Cas.

“You know what I mean. Like, do you want me to come to the bunker?”

“Yes, I do. I know you saw my vision, that’s just the tip of the iceberg on what I want to do with you around the bunker.”

“What about Jack? We’d have to wait until he leaves or goes out.”

Cas seems to think on it for a moment or two before his answer comes into my mind.

“I know you’re worried about Bobby. So if he’ll allow you to come with us, Jack could come and go between the bunker and here, make sure he’s safe.”

I meet Cas’s eyes and smile.

“Alright, fine, she can go,” Bobby says, defeated. He points to Sam and Dean. “But I’ll be coming around randomly, and I want at least two phone calls a week to make sure she’s still alive.”

“I guess you’re coming, little one.”

I smile and stand up, walking around the table to hug Bobby. “Thank you. I promise I’ll call,” I say sweetly, kissing his cheek.

Bobby hugs me and smiles softly. “As long as you promise to come home every once in a while, too.”

I smile and nod, excited to see the bunker in real life. But nervous, too. Sex was easy with Sam; it came naturally. But will it be the same with Cas and Dean, too?

We’re leaving in the morning, so I hope so.

Chapter Text

Y/n

“All packed?” Bobby asks as I set my bags down by the door.

I turn to face him, seeing his solemn smile. “Yup,” I respond, wrapping my arms around myself. “Are you going to be okay?” I ask.

Bobby pulls me in, giving me one of his signature bear hugs. “Don’t worry about me, darlin’. I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about,” Bobby says into my hair, kissing the top of my head. His concern is palpable, and I feel a surge of warmth for him.

I pull back, laughing softly. “Me? Nothing can kill me, remember?” I smile.

Now it’s Bobby’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, but that don’t mean I’m not worried about you. Especially with those two idjits around you,” Bobby says gruffly, nodding his head to the door where Sam and Dean are packing up the Impala.

“What about Cas?” I ask with a chuckle. “Is he an idjit too?” I tease, enjoying the banter.

Bobby sighs and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t know what he is, somewhere in between, I guess,” he finally chuckles, too. “Alright, looks like they’re about ready to head out. Remember to call me once in a while, and I’ll send Jack to check on you every now and then, too.” He hugs me again.

“Okay, I promise,” I say earnestly, hugging him back before we pull away again.

Bobby opens the door for me as I carry my bag. “See you soon, kiddo,” he says with a soft smile.

“See you later,” I return the smile.

Once the car is loaded up, we all climb inside, Dean and Cas in the front, Dean driving and me and Sam in the back. I take a look in the rear window, seeing Jack and Bobby wave us off as we drive down the driveway. I wave back with a smile until the house and salvage yard fade from view. Dean said it’ll take about four hours to get to the bunker, driving the speed he does, fast. I settle in, allowing the sleep I didn’t get last night in anticipation for today to take over and fall asleep, lulled by the hum of the engine and Dean’s, as Sam puts it, “dated and over-played” cassettes.

A door closes and wakes me from my sleep. I sit up, look around me, and rub the sleep from my eyes. I look in the front seat and see Dean isn’t in the driver’s seat anymore.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Sam chuckles from my side. I turn to look at him, smiling at me, and Cas chuckles from the front seat.

“Morning,” I say tiredly, yawning. “Where’s Dean?” I ask, looking around and noticing we’re stopped at a gas station, but he’s not by the pump.

“Grabbing snacks inside. Do you want anything?” Cas asks from the front passenger seat in front of Sam.

I shake my head, stretching my arms over my head. “I’m good, thanks,” I respond mid-yawn. “How close are we?” I ask neither Sam nor Cas in particular.

“About an hour and a half, a little over halfway,” Sam says, looking at his phone.

I feel bad for sleeping most of the trip, I’m sure they probably wanted to talk to me, and we probably should talk before we get to the bunker. I know we all agreed to just go with the flow of things, but I’ve always been a planner. Do we work up a schedule? Do they trade me off if they get busy or have a hunt? Do I get to go on hunts with them?

All of these are important questions that we should really talk about, or maybe I’m just spiraling. Either way, I’d feel a lot better if we had a plan of some kind.

The door opens again, and Dean gets back in the driver’s seat. He smiles and turns to look at me behind him. “Well good morning princess, nice of you to finally join us back in the land of the living,” he jokes with a wink, making me all flustered again.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t think I’d be getting much sleep when we got there, so I figured I’d catch up now,” I tease, biting my lower lip. Hey, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. That’s the saying, right?

They all chuckle a laugh, but their tone is anything but humorous. It’s more serious, only confirming my ‘joke.’

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Dean chuckles as he starts the engine and drives away from the rest stop, getting back onto the highway.

“So, what? You guys just take turns?” I half joke, trying to sound casual while trying to get more information to see where they’re at.

“Is that what you want?” Cas asks without looking back at me, instead looking at Dean with a coy smile.

I bite my lip. Is that what I want? No, I don’t know. I honestly still feel like this is all a dream, if I’m being honest. “Is that what you guys want?” I ask, deflecting the question back to them.

For a moment, they’re silent, thinking over their answer. A few seconds later, Sam is pulling me into his lap, my black tennis skirt splaying across my lap.

“What I want is to take you when I want. I’m not sure about them, but I’ll have you anywhere,” his hand creeps up my thigh, going under the hem of my skirt. “Anytime I want,” he kisses the soft spot behind my ear.

I gasp softly, feeling my cheeks heat and my stomach tighten slightly. “For instance,” Sam’s hand climbs higher, his finger teasing the edge of my panties. “If I want to make you cum on my fingers right now while they watch,” his head tilts up slightly, looking at them over my shoulder. “Then I want to do that,” he slips just the tip of his finger under my panties. I feel myself getting wet just thinking about it. My head gets fuzzy with arousal, and I buck my hips ever so slightly, wanting more.

“Is that what you want, baby girl?” Sam asks in a husky voice by my ear. I nod, and his hand slips further under my panties. Dean glimpses back in the rearview mirror, and Cas turns to watch me melt in Sam’s firm grasp. “I want to hear you say it,” Sam says firmly.

“Yes… I want it,” I say in a breathy voice as his finger slides over my slit, and I open my legs further. Sam’s finger lands on my pulsing, sensitive clit, eliciting a moan to fall from my lips.

“Fucking Hell,” Dean says from the driver’s seat. His voice is low and gravelly, his eyes narrow on me in the rearview mirror.

Sam’s other hand flips up my skirt and pulls my panties to the side, giving Dean and Cas a full view. He slides two fingers into my entrance, rubbing my clit with his thumb. “F-Fuck, Sammy,” I moan as he curls his fingers inside of me.

I feel him harden beneath my ass; I rub my ass against his erection over his jeans, making him groan in my ear. “Keep doing that, and I’m going to fuck you right here while they watch,” Sam threatens in my ear.

I feel myself get wetter at his threat, his fingers and thumb not losing speed. “That just made her even more wet. Didn’t it?” Cas asks from in front of us. “Fuck, I can see how wet she is from here,” he groans, his eyes flicking from my core to my eyes.

“Yeah, she is. I think she wants me to fuck her,” Sam teases, pushing his hips up, pushing his clothed erection into my ass. “Is that what you want, baby girl?” Sam asks in a husky voice. His thumb strums over my clit faster, making me moan loudly.

“Fuck, yes, p- please,” I barely manage to moan out, his grip on my leg tightening even more.

“Please, what?” Sam teases, pausing his thumb, keeping it firmly on my clit.

“Please,” my voice comes out more pathetic. “Please, fuck me, Sammy,” I beg.

Sam pushes me in front of him off his lap so he can unbuckle. Cas takes the opportunity to cup my face and bring it to his, kissing me hungrily. I moan into his mouth as I feel Sam pull my thong down my legs, and Cas swallows my sounds, taking them for himself.

Our kiss breaks as Sam pulls me back to him, positioning me over his waiting and hard cock before spearing my entrance, thrusting in harshly. “F- Fuck!” I moan loudly, the pain slowly molding from pain to pleasure.

Sam pulls my tank top over my breasts, revealing them to Dean and Cas before his hands cup and squeeze them, pinching and pulling on my nipples, making me moan louder. “That’s it, baby girl,” Sam groans, thrusting his hips up to meet mine as I bounce up and down on his erection. The angle hits the spot inside of me that I’ve only read about in books I’ve read. “Such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” He groans, gripping my hips tightly.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” I moan, my eyes starting to roll back into my skull as my orgasm builds and builds deep inside of me.

“Look at me,” Dean commands, his eyes meeting mine again in the rearview mirror.

I bite my lip and moan, looking at him. “Dean… The road,” I manage to get out, not wanting to crash.

Dean chuckles darkly. “If I die watching you cum, I’ll die a happy man,” he retorts. It’s only when I look down over their seat that I see his thick cock is free from his jeans. Except it’s not his hand stroking it, it’s Cas’s.

I guess we were all right about Destiel being canon.

I can’t hold back the smirk as it dances across my lips, my tongue peaks out, wetting my lips and I watch as Dean and Cas both watch the small action. Cas groans, stroking his dick and Dean’s. “Cum for us, little one,” Cas moans, pre-cum dripping from his tip and coating his long shaft.

I lean into the command. Sam’s thrusts get more and more uneven, and I know he’s just as close as I am. I tilt my head over my shoulder to look at Sam. “Do I deserve to cum, sir?” I tease, taking control and rotating my hips with him still inside of me.

“God, yes. Yes, cum for us, baby girl.” Sam moans.

I bounce up and down a few more times, spearing myself on his cock before I cum with a shattering cry. The car filled with my cries as Sam cums inside of me with a roar and Dean and Cas cum in Cas’s palms.

When our breathing settles, and we’re cleaned up as much as we can in the car, the air is heavier than before. But instead of being filled with anxiety and the fear of not knowing how this will work, it’s filled with lust and the urge to get back to the bunker as soon as possible for round two or maybe even round three.

And I, for one, am so fucking ready for it.

Chapter Text

Dean

One Week Later

“Come on, princess. Really come at me this time,” I taunt y/n. It’s hilarious watching her get worked up, and it’s sexy as Hell watching her sweat. The image of her bent over the map table and taking Cas and me in her mouth and pussy distracts me just long enough for her to give me a sharp right hook right in my ribcage. “Oof,” I groan, leaning over and clutching my side and sucking in a breath.

“Oh my God,” y/n clasps her hands over her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Dean. Are you okay?” she asks with a worried tone. Her hands land softly on my shoulders, and she leans down. I quickly sweep her off her feet and toss her over my shoulder, rib pain be damned. “Dean!” She shrieks with a laugh. I laugh loudly with her and give her a sharp swat on her ass, only making her shriek and laugh louder.

“Well, what’s going on here?” Sam laughs from the doorway, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Sammy, help!” She laughs, flailing helplessly in my grasp.

“Catch, Sammy,” I smile as Sam walks over closer and holds out his arms as I lift y/n off of my shoulder.

Y/n gasps and grabs the back of my shirt. “No, no! Don’t throw me,” she laughs.

“Let go, I’ll catch you, baby girl,” Sam laughs and holds his arms out. Y/n lets go of my shirt, and I toss her to Sam, who easily catches her, holding her bridal style. “See, told you,” Sam teases her and places her on her feet.

“You guys are such assholes,” y/n laughs and slaps both of us on the chest.

“Easy there, killer. I’m pretty sure you already bruised one or two of my ribs,” I tell her as I catch her hand.

Her happy expression quickly falls and is replaced with worry. “I’m so sorry, you told me to come at you. I thought you’d block it,” she explains hurriedly.

I pull her into my chest and hug her tightly. “It’s okay, I’m okay, princess. I just got distracted,” I tell her as I pull back and put my hands on her shoulders, leaning down to meet her eye level. “You have one Hell of a right hook, though,” I smirk.

Her lips lift ever so slightly into a smile, and I’d kill for that smile. “I had some self-defense training before,” she shrugs. “Perks of being the daughter of a celebrity, I guess,” she explains, almost like she’s ashamed of it.

“That’s right, a guy who plays Bobby is your dad, right?” Sam asks from behind her.

She turns and nods once. “Jim, yeah,” she reminds us.

“You weren’t close to him, were you?” I ask her as we all move to the kitchen and I grab us all a beer.

“No,” she shakes her head. “He hated that I wanted to be a writer and not an actress,” she takes a sip of her beer. “He called it his ‘greatest shame.’ Like him ignoring what happened to me was nothing but something to keep out of the tabloids, and not the worst thing that ever happened to me,” her voice cracks and she rolls her eyes.

“What happened?” I ask before I realize I probably shouldn’t pry. But she opened the door, and if we’re all going to be together, there shouldn’t be any secrets.

Y/n takes a big drink from her beer. “I was raped,” she says softly, not looking away from the rim of her beer bottle.

“Jesus,” Sam mutters.

Y/n chuckles and shakes her head. “I don’t think he or God were anywhere near when it happened,” she scoffs.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” Sam apologizes, and y/n cuts him off.

“I know you didn’t,” she looks over at Sam. “You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t do it, he did.”

“Who?” I can’t mask the anger in my voice.

Y/n slowly turns her head toward me. “It doesn’t matter, Dean. He’s not here in this world, at least, not that I know,” she responds with just the slightest bit of relief in her voice. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” she shakes her head and lets out a heavy breath. “As far as I’m concerned, he’s dead to me.”

Sam puts a reassuring hand on her back and rubs small circles. “Okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. But just know you can always come to us if you need to,” Sam smiles softly and kisses her forehead.

Y/n nods and smiles back at Sam. “I appreciate it, really, I do,” she says to Sam before turning back to me. I keep my hands clenched under the table.

We fight all kinds of monsters day in and day out. Maybe that’s why I’ve never thought about sexual assault before. The victims or the rapists. The realization makes me sick to my stomach with anger. Isn’t this what we were taught to do? Take out monsters? As far as I’m concerned, they’re just as bad as any vampire, werewolf, or shapeshifter out there. Maybe it’s time to start hunting a new kind of monster. Y/n never got justice, not as far as she’s told us. But we can rid the victims of having to face a jury or the courts or risk a ‘not guilty’ verdict. We can just give them justice.

“Dean?” Y/n’s voice breaks through the ideas that flow through my head on how to start hunting this new, to us at least, type of monster.

“Yeah, princess?” I smile at y/n sitting next to me.

“Did you hear what I said?” She asks with one eyebrow raised.

I shake my head and lift her hand, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “No, I’m sorry. What did you say?” I ask her.

She chuckles softly. “I said I never have to worry about it happening again because I’m with you three now,” she says with a blush.

I lean in and kiss her soft lips. “That’s right, princess. Never again,” I softly speak against her lips. “Why don’t me and Sammy get you cleaned up, hm?”

Y/n bites her lip and nods. “I’d like that,” she says in a breathy tone of voice that drives me insane.

Sam

The steam hangs heavy in the air of the shower and I’ve never been more thankful to have a roomy shower before.

“Sammy,” y/n breathes heavily as I lift her and hold her up by her thighs. Her voice drips with seduction and lust as I push myself into her entrance.

“Yes, baby girl?” I respond as Dean lines himself up with her ass.

Y/n moans, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck as Dean stretches her rear. “It’s, it’s too much,” she mewls as Dean pushes in a little deeper.

“You can take it, princess. I know you can,” Dean says in her ear, littering her neck with kisses as he holds her hips. Dean pushes himself in another inch, and she moans loudly.

“So…full,” she moans when Dean fully inserts himself in her ass. She’s right, she is. I can feel Dean’s cock through her walls, and that really shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.

I moan loudly as Dean, and I find a matching pace, thrusting in and out of her tight holes and pinning her between us. “So fucking beautiful,” I pant and suck on her neck, leaving a trail of hickies.

I feel Dean’s hands on her hips brush mine, and I find myself wanting to hold them. I don’t move my hands, and neither does Dean as we thrust into her harder. I look over her shoulder and find Dean is already looking at me. My feelings for Dean have never been more than that of a brother, so why is it so hard not to kiss him at this moment?

“I can feel you inside of her,” I pant to Dean and watch his pupils blow wide with lust.

Dean groans and thrusts into y/n so hard she practically screams. “Fuck, I can feel you too, Sammy,” Dean moans, looking between my lips and my eyes. The thought of kissing Dean makes my cock impossibly harder and brings my orgasm to its crest.

“Kiss,” y/n moans between me and Dean.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Dean says, removing one hand from her hips and gripping her hair tightly. Dean pulls her head back to meet his lips.

“Not me. You and Sammy,” I barely catch her say against Dean’s lips. My heart pounds in my chest. Did she notice how I was looking at Dean? And what will Dean say? Will he leave? I hope he doesn’t.

“What?” I ask as my thrusts slow slightly. I look from her to Dean, who is already looking at me with our cocks still settled deep inside of her.

“I can see you both want to. It’s okay,” y/n moans softly. Her arms leave my shoulders, and she wraps one behind her around Dean’s neck and the other around mine. “Kiss each other while you fuck me. I want to see,” she says lustfully, her eyes hooded and pupils blown wide.

I look over her at Dean and make the first move, tilt my head forward, and to my surprise, Dean does, too. Our lips hover for a moment before Dean kisses me, his lips pressed to mine over y/n’s shoulder. I feel Dean’s cock thrust into her again, pressing against mine through her walls. I thrust my cock inside of her again as I open my mouth and allow Dean’s tongue to slide inside for the first time.

“Fuck, yes, more,” y/n moans. Me and Dean happily oblige, thrusting in and out of her harder than ever before. “Oh, God,” y/n whimpers loudly.

“Goddamn, Sammy,” Dean moans as our lips part slightly. His hands find mine, covering them on y/n’s waist.

“I know,” I moan as the water continues to pour over us. “Do it again,” I tell Dean as y/n turns into a whimpering mess between us.

Dean presses his lips to mine again as we continue to thrust into y/n. I feel one of his hands slide between me and y/n, and his thumb plays with her clit while his fingers squeeze my cock. Fuck, I’ve never felt anything like this.

“I’m going to,” y/n pants and tilts her head back.

“Do it. Cum for us like our good little slut,” Dean seethes into y/n’s ear as his thumb rubs her clit faster.

Y/n’s walls tighten around my cock as she cums with an earth-shattering cry. I moan and spill myself inside of her as Dean’s fingers squeeze my cock, and he cums in her ass with a loud moan.

Dean and I slowly withdraw our cocks, and I set y/n gently on her feet. “Are you okay?” I ask her as she shakes on her legs, and Dean wraps a hand around her waist to support her.

Y/n smiles tiredly and leans against Dean. “I’m perfect,” she mutters as she closes her eyes.

Dean chuckles softly and kisses the top of her head. “That you are, princess,” he says against her hair. Dean looks up at me and smiles. “We should probably finish up here and get her to bed,” he says, grabbing her body wash and handing it to me along with her loofa.

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” I smile back at him. I don’t know what we are now, we obviously crossed a line. But I don’t have any desire to go back, and Dean doesn’t seem to either. We’re going to have to talk about it, but that can wait. For now, we need to take care of our girl.

Chapter Text

Sam

Y/n fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. I make my way out of her room and walk into the kitchen, where Dean is sitting with two beers in front of him. I don’t really know what to say to him now that it’s just the two of us. I kissed my brother. My head still reels with that fact. I don’t regret it unless Dean didn’t want to, then I’d feel like shit.

Does he regret it?

I pop the top off of my beer and toss it in the trash can, taking a long pull off of the bottle before finally setting it back onto the table. What do I even say to him now? Do I ask him if he enjoyed it like I did? I’ve known Dean was bi-sexual for years since he and Cas finally came out to me. But I never thought I was before. My head is swimming with questions that I can’t seem to find the answer to, and that’s not something I’m used to.

“Something on your mind?” Dean asks me from across the table.

Yes. A lot of things.

“No,” I shake my head, brushing off his question. I don’t want to be the one to bring it up.

Dean sighs and leans on the table with his elbows. “Look, Sammy,” Dean sighs again. “We should talk about what happened back there. I understand if you don’t want to. If you want to, just forget about it,” Dean continues. “But I can’t.”

Dean’s pleading gaze gives me the encouragement I need to open up. After all, he is my brother. If I can talk about it with anyone, it’s him. I take a deep breath and lean back. “Did you want to do it?” I ask, hoping he did as much as I do.

“I never do anything I don’t want to, Sammy. You know that,” Dean says seriously. “Did you?” Dean looks at me, biting the inside of his cheek like he always does when he’s nervous.

I suck my lips in between my teeth and nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I wanted to. It’s just weird because,” I lean back in my chair. “I never knew I did until she asked us to.”

Dean looks slightly disappointed, and I can’t ignore it. “Yeah,” he says shortly. “Didn’t know until then,” Dean says, taking another drink.

“Dean?” I grab his attention again, and Dean looks at me. “Did you? Did you want to before now?” I ask him curiously.

Dean sucks in a breath and looks off to the side. “Does it matter?” Dean asks solemnly.

I reach across the table with a shaky hand and grab Dean’s. “You can tell me anything,” I reassure him.

Dean bites his lower lip and holds my hand. “I’ve wanted to do it for years. Even before Cas,” Dean explains, looking down at our hands. “Ever since I can remember, it’s been you,” Dean says in a choked voice.

I can’t help but feel shocked. For years? Ever since he can remember? And why does none of this information bother me? It should. He’s my brother; no part of this is right. So why doesn’t it feel wrong?

“Sammy,” Dean gets my attention. He holds my hand tight as he looks deep into my eyes. “I want you to know that we never have to go further. And we never have to do it again if you don’t want to,” Dean assures me, but he doesn’t need to.

“Dean, I-”

Dean shakes his head. “No, listen to me. You are my first priority. Before anyone or anything, that’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it will always be. So you say the word, and we will never speak about it or do anything again. You understand me?”

I can’t help but chuckle and shake my head. I know what I want. I know I want Dean. If only he could turn off the whole big brother thing, he could see it, too. I look Dean in the eyes and give him the only explanation I can.

“Kiss me, Dean.”

Dean blinks a couple of times as if he’s trying to make sure he heard me right. When I nod, he doesn’t waste another second. Dean stands and walks around the table. He takes my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine. My heart flutters; it isn’t hot and passionate like it was in the shower. This kiss is slower, more meaningful, the kind of kiss that only comes after years of longing.

I place my hands on Dean’s waist, my head tilted and lips locked with his. Dean hums into the kiss when I grip his waist tighter. It’s everything I could ever want, everything I never knew I needed until tonight.

There is one thing I can’t shake, however.

“What about Castiel?” I whisper against Dean’s lips when ours finally part. “I want this, Dean,” I reassure him when he steps back. “But what about Cas? What will he think?” I ask.

“I already knew,” Castiel says behind me.

I stand up hurriedly and spin on my heels next to Dean. “Cas,” I mutter softly.

Castiel smiles and steps toward us. “I knew already. I saw y/n’s vision in the shower. I heard her words,” Castiel explains.

“What?” Dean asks, just as confused as I am.

Castiel smiles and sits down at the table. “Yes, I can see her thoughts and what she sees through her eyes.”

“And this isn’t information that you thought we should know?” I ask, trying not to be too angry.

Castiel sighs and motions for me and Dean to sit down; when we do he explains. “I wanted to find out why she and I could, first. So, I went to talk to a few trusted angels,” he holds up a hand, telling us to let him finish. “When Chuck made her immortal, he used his grace and power to do it. And because of that, she is able to see what I allow her to see, and talk to me and Jack telepathically. Really, she should be able to talk to any angel telepathically. Maybe even Chuck.”

“Why hasn’t she told us?” Dean asks seriously as if he’s offended that she didn’t trust us enough to tell us. And I can’t say that I blame him.

Castiel looks between us. “Because I told her not to until I found some answers. Until I did, it was a liability. If another angel, or a demon got their hands on one of you, they could easily find out. I had to find a way to hide her power from the other angels and find out why she could do it in the first place. Until now, it was a risk. I don’t even think Chuck knows that she can do it.”

I take in what Cas is telling me, and it makes sense. Am I still upset that they hid it from us? Yeah, of course I am. But if it keeps her safe, it keeps all of us safe, well… At least now we know.

“So, did you find a way to hide it from the angels?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods. “I did. I can teach her how to block out all of the other angels instead of me. It’s going to take some work, but she can get there,” Castiel explains calmly.

“What about Jack? You said she can talk and see him too if he finds out what Dean and I-”

“I told him to block her out unless it’s an emergency before we left Bobby’s,” Castiel cuts me off. “He doesn’t know anything.”

“Did she know you could see what happened? Did she show it to you on purpose?” Dean asks.

Castiel shakes his head. “No, she didn’t know. Angels can block other angels from the start; we’re made with that ability. But she is human, or at least she was human. I’m going to have to teach her to block angel radio, as well as block unknown angels that may try to access her mind. It might take a while. I’ve never done this before,” Castiel shakes his head.

“So, um,” I clear my throat and turn to Castiel. “Are you okay with what happened?” I ask the question that’s been prodding my mind since Castiel told us he already knew.

Castiel smiles. “I’m okay with it. Dean is with me and y/n already. The more the merrier, in my opinion,” Castiel shrugs with a smile. “Technically, all the angels are brothers and sisters, and we’ve been fucking for eons.”

Dean chokes on the last of his beer, and I snicker, covering my laugh with my hand. “Alright,” Dean coughs and stands from the table. “On that note, I’m going to bed.”

Castiel grabs Dean’s arm as Dean walks past. “Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel smiles and winks.

Dean actually blushes and nods. “Night,” he says before walking off without another word.

Me and Castiel laugh and shake our heads. “So, years, huh?” Castiel asks me.

I shrug and finish off my beer. “Apparently,” I respond with a smile.

Castiel stands and places a hand on my shoulder. “Do let me know if you ever want to be with an angel, too,” Castiel winks. “Dean and y/n aren’t the only ones who are interested.”

With that, he walks to his bedroom, leaving me dumbfounded. But I can’t say I’m not intrigued.