#I just wrote where John forces dean to cut his hair (it's a memory)

[dogearedheart]

not me actually writing something and making it fucking sad

[flamencodiva]

Bottom of the Bottle 2 - Sneaking Back on Stage

Description: Dean was at the peak of stardom until his world came crashing down. Can he find his way back to the top?

Word Count: 5340

Warnings for entire series: Smut (oral female and male receiving, P in V, Threesomes, Fingering, Orgies) Fluff, Angst, Violence, Language, Mentions of Drug use, Drinking, Mentions of Death.

Songs in this chapter: Partial Lyrics of Brother's Osbourn Ain't My Fault and Full lyrics of Down don't Bother Me by The Derek Truck Band

Beta'd by: @wonder-cole

Aesthetic by: @firefly-graphics

Dividers by: @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

<< Chapter 1

Dean pulled the bike up on the driveway and parked her next to his father’s truck. Then, killing the engine, he hopped off with a smile. Finally, Dean found a place where he could start over, a place he could play and live again. He found a small spring in his step and ran his fingers through his short hair. He was glad it was quick. His years with Purgatory had the band growing out his hair long. He hated it, but it was for the image. At the time, he would do anything just to be able to be involved in music and if growing his hair long was the worst of it, it was worth it to him.

But the minute that he was put in jail and kicked out of the band for something he didn’t do, he was glad to be rid of it. He was happy to cut off the long hair and return to his short locks. Turning the key to unlock the door, he let himself in to find his father sitting at the dining room table, hands folded on top of it.

“You could have gone to bed, you know,” Dean muttered as he placed the helmet on the table in the foyer and shrugged off his jacket to put it on the hook, “I told you I was going to be back.”

“Where did you go?” John asked as he looked up at Dean.

“Out,” Dean huffed, “I’m not a kid anymore, dad. So I went out, the bike had a wire come loose, I was close to a place, got help, came back.”

“You can’t do that again, Dean,” John said as he got up from the table.

“Do what? Go out and have fun? Go out and try to find some friends?” Dean asked, “I’m confused as to what you want from me here. I’m already working at the garage. I’m living under your thumb. I have a damn motorcycle instead of Baby.”

“I just wanted you to think before you went out,” John said as he walked to Dean, “I know you love to sing, and you love music, but it isn’t everything.”

“It’s all I have!” Dean practically yelled. “You know you started spewing all this bullshit about how I abandoned this family and ran away and couldn’t wait to leave,” Dean ran a hand across his face. “I wanted to go out and explore and find myself. You want to know the fucked up thing?” he walked up to his father, “I came back when Sam called me about mom. Not you,” he poked at John’s chest, “Sam, he called me to tell me mom was sick. You were the coward who couldn’t even face me to tell me my mother was dying!”

“Would you have answered the phone if it was me?” John muttered. “You have to admit, the minute you signed that contract, you wanted to high tail it out of here faster than a damn wolf chasing its prey.”

Dean looked down at the floor and licked his lips, “I wanted to get away from you. Not mom, not Sam, you. Because I was so mad and disappointed that my own father didn’t want me to follow something I was good at, something that gave me life.” Dean walked over to a picture of his mother and let his fingers graze over it, “I came every chance I could. I was in that hospital by her side when you didn't know it. I always waited for you and Sam to leave because I didn’t want to fight you while she was fighting Cancer.”

Dean wiped the stray tear that was falling down his cheek and shook his head.

“But it doesn’t matter. Nothing mattered, not that money I gave for the treatments or the fact that I tried to get Mom one of the best specialists I could find.” he turned to face his dad. “Music is in me, and I can feel it. What hurt me wasn’t mom dying. It was the fact that my own father thought of me as a disappointment when I made it big.”

John let his son’s words sink in before heading to the stairs, “A lot of good that fame and fortune did. You became part of a group that, in the end, it brought you back down to zero.” John was halfway up the stairs before he stopped, “you called me a coward for not calling you, but you’re a coward for not manning up to face me at that hospital.”

John’s footsteps began to fade as he ascended the staircase and retreated to his bedroom, leaving Dean to stew in his anger. Dean let out a frustrated growl with his jaw clenched and stomped up the stairs towards his old room. Why was his dad so adamant about keeping him locked up in a cage? He was already in a cell for six months, and he hated every minute of it. Apart from the fact that he could write a few lyrics, he hated being in that damn jail. He didn’t do anything wrong, and everyone tried to fight him for being a damn rock star.

Entering his room, he could see the boxes from his old home scattered around. Some boxes labeled clothing, some marked notebooks, and a few just miscellaneous. Walking to the box labeled notebooks, Dean tore the tape out and pulled out one of his more recently used ones. His fingers grazed over the pages before he turned to his bag full of his things from jail. Reaching inside, he pulled out a small booklet he had filled with some lyrics he had.

Dean didn’t go to bed right away that night. Instead, he took that time to filter through the small notebook and transferred his lyrics to his larger notebook. The memory of Y/N on stage seemed to haunt him. She looked at peace being up on that stage, almost ethereal, an angel ready to spread her wings and fly. Putting down his pen, his eyes roamed his room before settling on the silhouette of his guitar case. Sure, Dean had plenty of guitars, but this one, this one was special, and he was surprised to see it propped up in the familiar corner of his room.

Getting up from his chair, he walked over towards it, pulled the hard case out, and placed it on his bed. Opening up the latches, he lifted the lid and smiled. There nestled nice and snug was a Fender FA-100 Dreadnought Acoustic Guitar. He loved this guitar and hadn't been able to play it for years. He felt almost sad that he had it with him but could never really pull it out to play often. It was a birthday gift for his 17th birthday from his mother. Sure, she said it was from both her and his father, but Dean had a feeling it was more his mother than his old man.

Gently pulling it out of the case, Dean sat on his bed and placed the guitar on his right thigh, the fingers on his left hand holding down a chord on the fret before he strummed it. He winced at the awful sound that came out. It needed tuning. He looked around his room using the tiny light from his desk lamp and smiled when his eyes landed on the corkboard above his headboard. There, pinned to it, was his favorite pick. It was one of the few things his father did give him that he loved, a pick that he had seen in the music store that he had to have.

Taking a deep breath, Dean began to pluck at the strings and turn on the knobs to find the right notes. There was something about the way he felt holding his guitar that sent a shiver down his spine. Dean missed this feeling, and he kicked himself for letting the image geniuses at the label dictate that he should only be the voice of the band. Focusing on his tuning, he continued to play with the knobs until he was sure the guitar had the right notes to play.

With one last strum, he hummed in satisfaction at the sweet sound. He moved his fingers along the fret, strumming at the strings when a melody came to mind. He wasn't sure of the tempo, but he knew the notes he wanted to play. Adjusting himself and the guitar, he cleared his throat and let the music flow through him.

“Blame the whiskey on the beer, blame the beer on the whiskey,” he let out and smiled, “I like the sound of that,” he chuckled before grabbing his notebook and scribbling it down.

He continued to find the melody, and he figured a slow rhythm was a good fit for the song. At least that’s what he felt.

“Blame the bar for the band, blame the band for the--” he paused as he tried to find the right word, “song? Yeah, that works,” he wrote it down and shook his head gently.

His mind began to fill with doubt as he looked down at the lyrics. Was he really going to try to get back into music? Could he really deal with being a label stooge? He wanted to make music, sure, but it needed to be his music.

“You got this, Winchester,” he calmed himself, “You’ve been playing music for a long time. This is a good song.” he licked his lips and looked down at his fingers, “you had these lyrics in your head for a while, you just gotta get them out.

He continued to strum on his guitar and progressed as much as he could. He had gotten to the first round of the bridge before yawning. But, looking over at the clock, it was well past two in the morning, and he had to try to get as much sleep as he could.

The following day, Dean woke up to his father banging on his door.

“Wake up,” John called through the door, “I’m headed to the garage. You should head out soon. Coffee is already brewed.”

Dean let out a groan and ran a hand across his face to try and wake up fully. He stretched his body before forcing himself to get up. Dean looked at the open notebook on the floor and sighed. He had to finish the lyrics and try to memorize the song by tonight if he wanted to show Benny up. He didn’t like that Benny thought he would use Y/N for his own personal gain. That wasn’t in Dean’s nature at all. Besides, if the song was a hit, he could perform the other songs he had lying around, but he had to find a way to hide it from his dad.

Walking to his window, he looked outside and sighed. The sun was just rising, and he could hear the birds chirping on the nearby tree. Opening the window, he leaned on the windowsill when something caught his peripheral vision. He turned his head slightly to see the trellis that ran up the side of the house by his window. Reaching over, he pulled on it and gave a pouted shrug.

“Still feels sturdy,” he muttered to himself before looking down and feeling his pulse race. “You can do this,” he said, looking at the height, “you did it back in high school to go sneak over to ‘easy’ Gracie's house.” he reminded himself. “That and all of Mullet’s parties to play a gig.”

With a nod, he began formulating his plan. He spared no time in grabbing his clothes and getting dressed. His notebook was tight under the crook of his arm as he made his way downstairs to grab a coffee. His father had already left, leaving him alone. With a coffee mug in his hand, he used his free hand to write out the rest of his lyrics before looking at the time and dashing towards the front door. He made sure he kept the notebook close to him as he got ready for his bike ride to the garage.

He kept to himself as he placed certain things in his locker before grabbing his coveralls and put them on over his clothes. Then, his notebook in hand, he walked over to the work orders board and picked a clipboard to work on for the day. In between changing the oil on a few cars, replacing brake pads, and rotating tires, Dean had finished writing and found himself memorizing the lyrics he wrote out.

“I got my hand’s up. I need an alibi,” Dean muttered, “find me a witness who can testify.”

The melody was slow and funeral-like, and for the most part, it worked. What mattered to him right now was memorizing the damn words so he could get them out. He was sure the melody would change later, as he kept bouncing from uptempo to slow funeral march. It was hard trying to find a good beat, but he wasn’t sure what direction he was going. Was he going to stick to the complex rock rhythm he got used to with purgatory? Or was he going to go to his country roots?

He didn’t notice his father looking at him closely, the sad look on John's face as he recognized that Dean was writing lyrics. The old man could always tell when Dean was working on a song. Dean could never sit still when he was inspired, and the fact that Dean kept tapping different rhythms during the day wasn’t helping him hide it. But John was out of ideas, and the last thing he needed was to find his son on the news where they were announcing his death. It was bad enough seeing his son being arrested on the news, but to have his death broadcasted would absolutely shatter him. John had tried so hard to shelter Dean from getting the performance bug, but it seemed like the tighter John held on, the more Dean slipped through his fingers.

The rest of the day, Dean had played with a few different melodies in his head, but nothing seemed to stick. By the time he had memorized the song, it was time to close the garage. Dean had put his coverall back in his locker and walked over to his bike.

“Dean?” John called.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, turning to face his father.

“What do you think about heading over to the diner we always used to go to for dinner?”

Dean looked at his watch and then back up to his Dad. He still had some time to head home and grab his guitar and sneak out, “yeah, sounds good. Need to have that famous burger of theirs. I missed it when I was up in KC,” Dean said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there,” John nodded his head as he let Dean go before him, “I gotta lock up, so you go ahead and see if they can get us in a booth.”

“Sure,” Dean called out before putting his helmet on and zipping up his jacket.

The ride to the dinner wasn’t too bad. It was short. To begin with and Dean made it with perfect time to grab the last available booth. Dean ordered a burger for himself along with a beer and a slice of pie for after. The waitress was about to leave when John appeared and slid in.

“I’ll have the meatloaf and a water, Jenny, thanks,” he said to the young waitress.

“You got it, John, coming right up,” she smiled at the elder Winchester before turning to Dean and winking, “I get off at 8.”

Dean offered her a smile before turning to his father, “you come here a lot then?”

“Haven’t really cooked since your mother died,” John muttered as he looked at Dean. “You did good work today,” he changed the subject, “I was thinking about showing you how to run the books and showing you all the accounts, you know, get you ready to take over.”

“Dad--” Dean sighed, “I love working at the garage, I do, but it won’t make me happy.”

“Because music makes you happy,” John scoffed, “look what music did to you!” he pointed out.

“You know as well as I do that it was the industry, not the music. Those are two different things!” Dean argued.

John shook his head before running a hand across his face, “look, you need a backup, and I need someone I can trust to take over.”

“You planning on retiring soon?” Dean let out as he leaned back in his seat.

“Maybe,” John sighed, “I can’t run the garage forever, and I don’t want to sell it.”

Dean looked at his father’s face and could see the hurt in his eyes, “you really love that garage.”

“It’s my second love to my family,” John said as he folded his hands together over the table. “Just think about it?”

“I guess I can do that,” Dean muttered as their waitress, Jenny, came by with their food.

“You know she’s single,” John commented as he grabbed his fork to dig into his meatloaf.

“I don’t need dating help,” Dean let out as he grabbed his burger in his hands, “besides, I’m not looking for attachments.”

“Sometimes they’re a good thing, though,” his father commented after swallowing his food.

Dean rolled his eyes, “after the fiasco with Lisa, no thanks.”

“You’ll find someone,” John chuckled, “I don’t think I ever met Lisa.”

“Thank your lucky stars for that,” Dean huffed. “All she cared about was the fame and notoriety. Then I caught her with some publicist screwing in my bed,” he shook his head, “then again, I was nailing two, maybe three girls at a time so… no skin off my back when I cut her loose.”

John stayed silent for a minute, digesting what his son was saying, “so you went for the sex god approach then.”

“Better than being the drug addict,” Dean shook his head and took a bite of one of his fries, “the alcohol helped to just dull the senses anyways. I was a pretty face and a voice for the band, that’s it.”

John could hear the unhappiness in his voice and see the pain radiating in his son’s eyes over not making the music he wanted. It hurt John for a bit, but it also had him thinking about how it might help keep Dean home and safe.

“The business can chew you up and spit you out pretty easily.”

Dean watched as his father continued to eat his meatloaf, letting the conversation die. Yet, he knew where it would lead if he kept the conversation going.

Finishing his meal, Dean cleaned up his face and reached for his wallet before John stopped him.

“I got this son, you go on home, or are you going back out for a ride?” John asked.

“I need to rest, so I’ll be up in my room,” Dean lied as he slid out of the booth. “So I’ll be in bed by the time you get home, maybe.”

“Okay, I’ll be up watching some tv, so I’ll try not to make too much noise,” John pulled out his wallet and a few bills to place on the table.

Dean walked out and towards his bike just as John got into his truck.

On the ride home, Dean was thinking of what his escape plan would be. He already knew he would climb down the trellis, but his guitar had to come with him. Reaching the house, both men stayed in silence as they went their separate ways. Dean closed his door and put the lock on for good measure. He felt like a teenager hiding from his parents, but he knew his father would never understand. And honestly, Dean really had no place to go, and if he had to keep his musical exploits a secret, then so be it. One could say he wanted to try to impress a particular bartender he met last night, also wondering if he would hear her sweet voice again. Grabbing his case, he looked around for something he could use to strap it to his back, finding a rope he could use on the fly.

Once he was sure that the case was secured to his back, Dean carefully climbed out of the window to sit on the windowsill. He moved as carefully as he could, making sure to avoid making too much noise with his guitar case and getting it out of the window. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he reached the trellis and slowly began to climb down.

“You got this, Dean,” he said to himself as he made sure to place his foot on the holes as he climbed down. “Just like that time you snuck out to head over to the bonfire,” he took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat, “granted you also missed a small hole and fell when you reached the last foot off the ground, but you did it.”

Finally reaching the bottom of the trellis, Dean gave a small jump and smiled in satisfaction. Heading to his bike and rolling it away from the house to not make any noise when he started the engine. Once he was a block away, at least, his night began. The ride to Rusty’s was smooth, and Dean could see it already start to fill with patrons. Parking his bike, he adjusted his guitar and made his way inside. His smile grew when he saw Y/N at the bar already taking orders.

“You know we really do have to stop meeting like this,” he called out with a smile when she turned to him.

“Does that line work? I mean, right now, it just seems like you’re trying too hard,” she let out as she walked over to him, “going to drink, perform, or both?”

“Both,” he answered, “know where I can find Jo?”

“She’s over by the stage taking names for tonight,” she pointed over to the blond who was talking to a few groups.

“Wait,” Dean squinted a bit, “That’s Jo Harvelle? I know Jo,” Dean smiled and turned to face Y/N, “Will you be performing tonight?”

“Nope,” she sighed, popping the ‘p.’ “Yesterday was a fluke. I was filling in for someone.”

“I’m going to go talk to Jo,” Dean said before leaning over and taking Y/N’s arm gently before she could leave. “Whoever told you that you weren’t amazing last night was lying to you, sweetheart.” He let her go before she could give him a counterargument and made his way to the stage with his guitar strapped to his back.

As he approached the stage, he could feel a hand pull him back, and a person walked past him.

“Hey,” he called out, “do you mind?”

“Why yez, ah do mind,” the familiar Cajun voice said, “didn’ tink youz goin’ tah show up.”

Dean gave Benny a cocky smile before huffing, “I did tell you I would see you. Let me guess you have a song to sing tonight too?”

“Betta’ than what chu have to play i’m zure,” Benny chuckled, “I didn’ tink dat dey let chu play an inztrumentz.”

“I was playing the guitar before I ever joined that group,” Dean said with a low growl, “how the hell did you recognize me anyway.”

“The long lockz don’ matta to me brotha,” Benny sighed, “but da eyez are da windows to da soul.”

“You and everyone else seem to recognize me,” Dean muttered, “well, you can go ahead and sing your song before me,” Dean offered him a sly smile, “I’m sure I can bring the house down.”

Benny let out a scoff before turning away to walk towards Jo, “good luck wit dat brotha.”

Dean watched as Benny talked to Jo, who gave him a quick nod while jotting down a note. Once she was done, the Cajun turned around and checked Dean on the shoulder.

“Good luck up, der,” he chuckled at Dean, “you lookz like you need it.”

Dean clenched his jaw as Benny walked away. The guy really didn’t like him. Dean didn’t do anything. Hell, most people’s assumptions of him now have to do with the damn drug charge. Shaking his head, he walked up to Jo and adjusted the guitar strapped to his back. As he walked up to the young blond, he couldn’t help but smile as a memory of a young girl in pigtails flashed before him.

“Never thought you’d grow out of the pigtail stage,” he said as he stood in front of her.

“Well, well, well,” she said, chuckling before pulling him into a tight hug, “never thought the infamous Dean Winchester would grace us with his presence. I thought this place would be too. country for you?”

“I want to sign up to perform,’ he let out with a deep breath.

“Fees $20 to perform,’ she sighed.

“Performance fee?” Dean scoffed, “Really, Jo? Who the hell came up with that?”

“Look,” Jo sighed, “The $20 goes for every and all performers. It’s a small fee for renting out the stage. Besides, you get more in tips if people really like you.”

Dean grumbled as he fished in his pockets for a twenty-dollar bill. He handed it to Jo and shook his head, “I’m only going to be singing the one song.”

“Okay,” Jo wrote down his name and smiled, “You can wait by the bar and order some food. I’ll have someone pull you to the back about three performers before you.” She reached over and pulled him into a hug, “Welcome home, Dean. I have a feeling this is going to be a fresh start for you. You never looked right with that band.”

Dean smiled as he hugged her back, “Thanks, Jo.”

With that, Jo pulled away to let him walk towards the bar with his guitar still on his back. Approaching the bar, Dean smiled, seeing Y/N smile as she served customers. Her laugh reached his ears, and it pulled at him. There was a sense of comfort he felt from listening to Y/N’s laugh. Her laugh was very familiar to him. Walking to the bar, he pulled up a stool and sat down to wait for his turn. He wanted to try out his new song, but he wasn’t sure about the tempo yet. He continued playing around with different beats, but all he could come up with was a depressing march, but it didn’t seem to fit the song at all. With a groan, Dean decided to get something in his stomach while he waited.

“You look like you got something bothering you, Gringo.”

Dean snapped his head up from the menu to see Y/N leaning over the bar top towards him.

“Just trying to figure out what to eat before I have to head up on stage,” He chuckled, trying to shrug off the nervous feeling he had on him. “Besides, Benny’s gonna get mad if he sees you talking to me.”

“I can handle Benny,” Y/N offered him a smile, “besides, I’m the only bartender here, so I’m doing my job.”

“What do you recommend from the kitchen?” Dean asked as he licked his lips. There was something alluring about Y/N, but at the same time, he felt as though he had known her from before their encounter in the coffee shop.

“Honestly? The ultimate bacon burger,” Y/N answered. “It’s got premium Angus beef, with nice crispy bacon, a chipotle aioli, lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles. Not to mention you can have it with steak fries or onion rings.”

“That actually sounds good. I’ll have that and a bottle of Margiekugels,” Dean closed up the menu and sighed, “So is there ever a chance I’m going to see you on stage again?”

Y/N looked over at him as she put in his order on the digital register, “I don’t know,” she sighed, “it was just a one-time thing being up there.”

“Well, if you ever want to go up there again,” Dean said before taking a sip of his beer, “I could always be your backup.”

“Look,” Y/N shook her head with a slight huff. “I know all about you. Just because you cut your hair doesn’t mean that people aren’t going to recognize those big green eyes of yours,” she gave him a soft glare. “I’m not into rock stars, so do me a favor and just find someone else to play with, okay?”

Dean let out a small huff with a smirk, “well, screw you then, sweetheart.”

He took another sip of his beer and shook his head.

“You think you know me because of what the media says about things I didn’t even do? Then fine, you know me. But in reality, you’re just a scared little bitch who wants to stay behind the bar counter.” he grabbed his guitar as he got off the stool. “You can have them send my burger to the table in the corner over there,” he pointed towards the back of the saloon and slapped some money on the counter, “keep the change.”

He stalked off with his beer and guitar, chest full of anger as he looked up to see Benny had already gone on stage and was singing a song. The people were cheering and hollering for him.

Goin' 'round in circles

Pickin' out a cue

Travelin' with no memory

Ow, in my shoe

Down don't bother me.

If the music say

You can take a picture baby

Time won't care

And you're my second nature

A-coming over me

And though I might be shakin'

Down don't bother me no more.

Down don't bother me no more

Down don't bother me no more

Down don't bother me no more

As Benny finished his song, Dean rolled his eyes as everyone in the crowd cheered and whistled. Seemed like Benny has a crew of regulars that come to see him. He took a swig of his beer, smacking his lips and smiling at the waitress who brought his burger to him. Dean could feel Y/N staring, but he didn’t care. She had made up her mind, and he was done trying to prove to people that he wasn’t an asshole.

Finishing up his burger, he watched as Benny made his way over and rolled his eyes. He should have known that the seat he picked was closest to the kitchen.

“I’ze hope chu enjoyed dat performaze brotha,” Benny chuckled, “chu look like you could yuz da luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” Dean grumbled, “I know my skills, so why don’t you go back to yours and leave me and mine alone.”

Benny lifted his hands in surrender and let out a laugh, “didn’t mean ta hit a sore spot witch you. Enjoy da burga.”

Dean shook his head as Benny walked into the kitchen. His nerves were starting to get the best of him as he could feel his hands shake. Looking at his guitar propped up in the chair, his mind began to spin with thoughts.

‘What the fuck am I doing?’ his mind shouted. ‘People are going to hate this song. I don’t even have a tempo yet!’

He could feel his heart race. Nothing could get him to snap out of it. At least, not until Jo came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, making him jerk.

“Hey,” she gave him a warm smile. “You got two performers before you. You should head backstage. I’ll show you the way.”

Dean nodded numbly as he followed her, not noticing an old friend watching him as he disappeared behind a black curtain.

Chapter 3

Tags in the Reblog

[starshipsofstarlord]

World Revelations

@etherealsxnder​

Warnings; spoilers for season 13, mentions of death, angst, lack of hope, some Alex Calvert x reader, and tiny bit of jack x reader, swearing, brief illusions to sex, angry brothers, mentions of a sex scene, insecurities, online hate, protective winchester brothers, apocalypse world, major character death, lucifer

(Y/A/N) – Your Acting Name.

A/N; it’s a little bit different from the request, so sorry about that, but I hope that any one that reads this enjoys. Also sorry about the wait, I had bad writers block, but when I started writing this it sorta figured itself out and I may have got carried away. Feel free to tell me what you think ☺️

“Look, I am not going to some other world to help stop Michael. But I can help you in another way, one where none of us get harmed.” Gabriel shrugged, reducing Sam’s expression to confusion. The archangel had felt like their last hope at retrieving their mother, into delving into the apocalypse world, and here he was, turning him down.

 He had tried his very best to make the celestial being better, and here he was, talking again, able to use his grace rather than have it removed and syringed into a demon’s veins. However, he still refused, and the hunter had no other plan in forcing Gabriel into helping. This was the last shot, and it had been blown.

 But however could he still help? This was the primary problem that had to be solved, there was no other route they could take to bring their family back together. And that was all that mattered in this life, saving people, remaining together.

 “What are you talking ab-“ Before Sam could complete his question, Gabriel set him with a poised glare, and snapped his magical fingers, a spark of electric blue grace sparking from the action. That was all Sam saw before he felt himself transported, and once he opened his eyes, he remained in the bunker, however there were cameras around him, and an entire filming crew.

 Gabriel had sent him to the other life, another world in which he presumed that he was called Jared. “What the hell Sammy?” Dean barked from beside him, twisting and turning his sights around, upon realising that although this looked like their home, it was an alternate version of it. A set, made of fake walls and truthless literature that was not at all necessary in this peaceful, monster-less realm. “Son of a bitch!”

 “Cut!” One of the cameramen called out, shaking his head exasperatedly at the line said wrong. Jensen had been doing so well, and Jensen seemed to have slipped far too into character, to the point where he had forgotten his lines. “Do you need to see the script again, or would you rather take a short break?”

 “I’ll go for the break.” Dean confirmed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and hastily dragging him from the onlookers, and towards which he assumed was his, well, Jensen’s trailer. It looked pretty much the same as last time. “Gabriel?” He asked, rightly assuming that the blame of this mishap ordeal was down to the glowing figure.

 “He refused to help us open a rift.” Sam licked his lips, his eyes jutting around the luxurious space. “And then he snapped his fingers, and we were here.” Here, another earth. However this was not their home, it was a disfigured writing of it, if anything, it was worse than the books Chuck wrote. There were more fans, and more complications that came along with being here in place of the actors.

 “We don’t have time for his tricks.” Sighed Dean, raking his hair with his rough hand. “Parading around as a painted whore is not on my agenda, all I care about is getting mum back, we have to get home quick.”

 “Dean, I don’t think that this is a trick…” Sam spoke to his elder brother, in thought of Gabriel’s words. “He said he could help us in another way. I don’t think he meant taking us away from the problem, there must be something else.” No matter how much he rolled the idea around his head, he could come to no conclusion.

 “What?” There was already plenty on the man’s mind, he didn’t need another incident coming their way. Dean was to begin speaking again, until a knock rapped against the door to his double’s trailer, intruding his mindset. Him and Sam shared a glance and frown until Dean called whomever was on the other side in, and to their dismay, he looked exactly like Castiel.

 Misha Collins. Last time they had visited this place, he had died, but the return of the real selves must have somewhat fixed the timeline, he looked well, even if he still was dressed as their angelic friend. “Hey, I was seeing if you are ready for the scene tomorrow.”

 “Scene? Which scene?” ‘Jared’ asked the colleague of his false identity, unaware of the context in which Misha spoke in. Dean only huffed and rolled his eyes, until Misha spoke, and he froze, both the brothers understanding Gabriel’s meaning for sending them to this world.

 “(Y/N)’s death scene. Apparently it’s gonna be quite emotional, and it’ll be strange after, not having the kid on set anymore.” It was a revelation, a nightmare that foreshadowed the truth in their own dimension.

 “Thanks uh- Misha.” ‘Jensen’ rubbed his hand over his face, shocked by the oncoming doom. They had already lost far too many members in their makeshift hunter family, but this was different. This was their sister, whom they had protected and vouched to continue doing since the day she was born. And now the universe had this grand plan of cutting her young life short, and sending her to either heaven or hell, where so many people they loved already were.

 “Do you know where um, (Y/A/N) is right now?” Sam asked, desperate to somehow convince her to remain on the show. It was the only way in which he could save his younger sibling, and he would, by the gods, do anything that he possibly could. Him and Dean had already had meetings with death himself, he couldn’t allow the new version to come and take you.

 Billy would not compromise, she was intent on having a Winchester under her cloak, forever taken from life, never to return to the living. And they couldn’t take a chance, any chance on not getting (Y/N) back, she was a legacy as were they, but she was supposed to live on for longer. Their names would otherwise be nothing more than memories in the world of hunters, until they faded into distant and dead members of the community.

 “In her trailer, I think. She’s rehearsing with Alexander I think.” The name that he mentioned was unfamiliar to the unfitting pair, but they spared no thought to it. Instead they sent him a quick smile before leaving the confines that they felt trapped in, and began their search for the actress of their sister.

 “We have to change her mind Sammy. If she stays on the show, then our (Y/N) lives. It is the simplest solution.” Dean spoke as they walked through the lines of trailers, unable to find the name that they were searching for on any door. “Where the hell is her damn trailer?”

 Sam squinted, until a name he had heard was seen on one of the doors. Alexander, whoever that was. Before he could even put any thought into his actions, he subconsciously knocked on the door, waiting a moment for an answer. And when the door opened, they were met with who looked like Jack, his hair a mess, and his shirt hanging over his shoulder, clearly put on in panic.

 “What’s up guys, need something?” He scratched the back of his neck, impatient with the situation, considering the one that he had been interrupted from. A part of him feared that this was one of Jared’s infamous pranks, he had mostly been on the end of shifted lines, but worse could have been heading his way for all he knew.

 Dean frowned at the sight of young man, it hardly felt right seeing the innocent boy that they knew with sex hair and slight bruises upon his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping up his expression, as he spoke to the boy. He had softened up to Jack, he was their kid in some ways, but this was no Nephilim, if anything it was worse, it was a man who impersonated they kid.

 “Heard that uh, (Y/A/N) was running lines with you. Y’know where she is?” Alex’s eyes shifted slightly inside of his personal space, before everything was given away by a familiar giggle. It sounded the exact same as the one that often left (Y/N)’s mouth. Dean knew it, he would never be capable of mistaking it.

 The noise had renegaded in his ears since she had been born, in the impala as John drove, through the halls of the bunker as her and Sam made jokes about his cholesterol. At the worst of times, before he knew that they existed, he liked to think that it was the voice of angel, she always guided him on the right path, and if she were to disappear from his life, he would sorely lose the track that he was hellbent on walking down.

 And he could see her face now, as she tugged the sheet over her body. A frown sculpted her expression, as she looked exasperatedly between Alex whom had tried to lure the tall pair from the confines of his trailer, and the intruders who had barged carelessly in. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if her and Alexander had actually been running lines, however the situation explained more than enough of the fact that they indeed were not.

 “Jared, Jensen, can you like, I don’t know, not cockblock me, for once in your elderly lives?” It felt peculiar, for both Sam and Dean. They knew that this was not their sister, but her calling them by other names was so foreign. Their skins crawled at the labelling, and it only reminded them farther of their cause, the reason that they were sent by an angelic being to be here in this very moment.

 “I am also getting bored of it.” Alexander tilted his head, in agreement with (Y/A/N), who only grinned at his compliance to suit her opinions, and Dean could only roll his eyes, just like he did with Jack the majority of the time. “But it’s cool, but can we hurry this along, I mean not to be rude, but aren’t you guys supposed to be filming a scene in like five minutes?”

 Sam cleared his throat, admittedly he did like Jack. The kid was sweet, however this was not him, it rather was a man who pretended to be a Nephilim for payment, and was bedding the doppelganger of his sister. If he were to see his sister and the devil’s child in such a compromising predicament, most people would assume he’d be the calm sibling, but they’d be wrong. He would go mad, and think of a way to keep the pair separate.

 But luckily for them, there had never been such adult situations insinuated between their dear (Y/N) and Jack, or at least not that they were aware of. This riled Dean, and so he couldn’t help but feel like exploding. It angered him that any man had laid their bare and lustrous hands upon his youngest sibling. No one was to have that pleasure, she was supposed to remain innocent, even if she were legal.

 “Seriously?! Jack of all people?!” He bellowed at (Y/A/N), shaking his head at their obvious exchange. If (Y/A/N) had any clothes on underneath the white sheet that hugged her body as she lay on the sofa, her instincts would have driven her over to Jensen and her palm would have met the side of his stubbly face.

 “First of all, you need to start remembering Alex’s name, and that goes for Jared too. You can’t just keep calling him Jack, even after I’m done here and move onto my next project.” Her words, although not having the intent to, had the effect of triggering Sam’s goal, in-deliberately reminding him of their foremost goal. It was not to get angry at the characters that played them and their loved ones, it was to save someone that was incredibly important to their world.

 “And second,” the woman in covering continued, “this isn’t exactly going to get me to stay on the goddamn show, if you barge in here, interrupting our privacy. If you don’t like what me and Alex are doing off screen, you sure aren’t going to like what is gonna go down between (Y/N) and Jack. Sometimes I do swear that you’re just like Sam and Dean.”

 The jab she made at them struck nerves, but they knew that this was not the real her. It may have looked like (Y/N), but this was only a woman who played the part of her. “We’ve been trying to make you stay on the show?” Sam asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to be harsh, she was already uncomfortable enough.

 It was her unknowing that they were actually Sam and Dean that could be an element that they could use, a tool of convincing. “Yes, for weeks now.” (Y/A/N) sighed, pinching the point that was between her eyebrows. “And I’m getting tired of it, and overall, this character. I’ve played her for years on end, I think that her story should have a finishing point, a finale. I’m ready for bigger and brighter things, something that is not pretending to be a strong woman on set, and as soon as I walk away from the cameras, I go back to being weak.”

 “I think you’re going to have to explain a little more if I’m going to get any of that.” Dean prompted, both him and Sam had turned away, giving the actress in the sheets the privacy to change. The shuffling of fabrics could be heard, they had been in worse situations with their sister, small motel rooms, of which they could usually only afford one in the past, helped nobody. And none of them received the personal space that should have been an outright human right.

 “Of course neither of you understand.” Alex sighed, “she wants a smaller workspace, one where there aren’t so many eyes on her. The whole ordeal got out of hand, and now there are people online saying terrible things about her and I. Neither of you have made such a mistake, or had something so sacred and personal leaked on the internet. The things people say really digs in deep, she at least wants a break, can’t you understand that?”

 “Wait, what got leaked?” Sam’s curiosity often informed him of things that he did not wish to be aware of, and this was one of their instances. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, walking over to where (Y/A/N) was now fully clothed, and took a seat on the sofa beside her, their eyes meeting and mirroring smiles shining at one another.

 The sight admittedly made Sam smile, but it made Dean feel internally sick. The sight of what looked like their sister and Jack fuelled a fire inside of him, he wanted his eyes to burn and the memory to be forever removed from his sights.

 “Look, you play a pretty badass character, although I’d say Dean has a bit more kick to him.” The man himself chuckled, but no one joined in, so he continued through a forced smile, coming to sit down next to Alex, his ignorance to what happened there merely minutes ago encouraging his brother to cringe.

  “But that’s not my only point, you’re here, whilst those sad souls that sit behind their computers all day waste their time typing crap. The life you have, the family that you have here, is worth more than the opinions of a few, invisible idiots, who are only jealous of everything that you have earned for yourself. Don’t breathe their toxicity win, because if you do, the bad guys win, and then you will only fade out of the spotlight and they’ll forget all about you, and all of the things they ever posted about you.”

 Alex had been understanding through all of (Y/N)’s decision to leave the cast, although to begin with he had tried to convince her to stay. And it seemed out of all of them, it was Jensen that made her reconsider her options, he could see it behind her eyes, the unravelling of interest, the flickering of hope.

 The only thing that the younger actor could not tell were that these were not Jensen’s words, they fell from the lips of Dean Winchester himself. A character that he knew of, and was an important symbol on the show that he was cast on. But it did not matter if he was not aware of that snippet, because it changed nothing, other than possibly (Y/A/N)’s mindful decision.

 “You know what, you’re right Ackles. It’s not often that I say that, but the thought of leaving everyone here, settling for something that I have no connection to or history with, it is undermining. And I’m going to talk to Kripke, he’ll be over the moon with the consideration, however if he chooses that (Y/N) is to die as was planned due to my indecisiveness, then that shall be the battle that I am to bargain with.” They had won (Y/A/N) over, it was victory.

 It was also the closest that they could do by themselves to save (Y/N). If this didn’t work, they would be nothing more than John’s broken tools, defined by all those that they were always mourning. And it would only make their sister another name on that sour list, even if her death would pain them substantially more than others.

 “I guess we’ll go then.” Sam awkwardly spoke, encouraging Dean to stand from the christened furniture and join him in leaving the sexually active couple alone. He sent the woman a nod, and Alex a raised eyebrow. He would have Jack’s head if he ever thought he had the guts or wings to be so intimate with their sister, he’d make him feel something, and it would be painful. Torturous even.

 They shut the door behind them as they departed from the actors, a smirk on Dean’s face. He felt victorious, he was the same hero that would read (Y/N) stories when it was dark and a storm was thundering outside, as she hid under the duvet of some dingy motel bed, a torch protecting her from the enveloping bleakness, but also her brothers. “I’d call this a win.”

 “They said about a video…” Sam had Jared’s phone in his hand, he scrolled through the feed with a wrinkled nose and scorned eyes. After he received an answer to what it was concluding, he put the device away, he could never look at Jack and (Y/N) around each other the same again. It was burdened by the facts of this world, contradicting the innocence that both the kids in their world showed. “It was a leaked sex scene of the show, Dean.”

 “Heck no!” Growled the elder brother, shaking his head. The instant images that flashed through his mind of the Nephilim atop of his little sister made his teeth grit in anger, and a pit of queasiness fold in the cave of his stomach. He already wasn’t too sure on Lucifer’s spawn, this only enhanced that formed opinion, and he wished to shoot the child more than ever in this instant, even if the real him was not around.

 “They’re not actually the people we know Dean.” Sam comforted him, easing his anger, but only slightly. “Nothing like that has happened between them, he is in another world, whilst (Y/N) is in the bunker, reading lore and trying to find a way to bring mum and Jack back to us.”

 “Yet Sammy, nothing has happened yet.” He allowed himself to shut his eyes for a second, and the next thing that he knew, he was returned home. His speech must have worked on the employee of the show Supernatural, otherwise, Gabriel surely would not have returned them to their home world.

  “He’s gone, for chuck sake. How are we supposed to bring Jack and Mary back if we don’t have archangel grace?!” The stressed voice of their younger sibling often triggered a debate from the brothers, but seeing and hearing her, it was a miracle. They couldn’t waste time and argue, instead Sam lurched forward, grabbing the girl and bringing her into the embrace of his giant like arms.

“We’ll figure it out (Y/N/N), we always do.” He spoke softly, earning a confused yet pleased smile. The hug had come out of nowhere, but it calmed her nerves, the rushing of the blood that hurtled around the veins of her body slowed, and it gave her a moment of peace, a blank mind before she began researching again.

 “I have a question.” Dean stated with his gruff tone, squinting at his female sibling. He suppressed a smile, she was oblivious to the blockade that had rested above her head like a raincloud, but he knew that she was here for good. And that she was not leaving to any sort of afterlife any time soon. “Do you have the hots for Jack?”

 (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, however she forced a scoff to hide the shock and cover up anything that her brothers could pick up on. She released herself from Sam’s hold, taking a couple of simple steps backwards, so that she could have a clear view of the expressions that both of them wore. “Are you seriously asking me that at a time like this?” Her sentence was finished with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

 But her brothers knew their sister well enough, and that she indeed did not want to admit something to them. (Y/N) was much easier to read than (Y/A/N) was, they had known this growing woman since the day that she was born, the same day in which John rescued the shrieking baby from a mother that was fed and eaten by wolves. She would have been next, however the hunter saved her, as was in his job description, but he couldn’t bare to let her stream through the system.

 He felt an attachment to her, and looking at her was practically the same as the notion of peering at one of his boys. She was to be a Winchester, he hadn’t decided it, but God himself did. The universe worked in mysterious ways, it was as though it was all written out for the family, but this instant, none of them minded. It gave the boys another reason to fight, another person to love, and eventually another family member to lose.

 But it had been evaded this time, Gabriel had although not helped them with reaching their mother and the son of Kelly Kline, however, he had somewhat saved (Y/N) himself. Without his trickster interference, they’d have never known of her doomed fate, or have been able to fix it.

 “I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean was smug with being right, as he always was. Overall though, he was more pleased to know that they had stopped the crumbling of the bottom of the family tree, they had protected their sister, literally to the ends of the world.

 “Pick up a damn book and help me, I’m not doing all of this research by myself.” Another sign that he was indeed correct, changing the subject, how original. But neither of the brothers, more so Dean than Sam, even wanted to try and switch the mindset that (Y/N) had about the boy. They were allowed to have feelings, romantic and so on, and their sister appeared happy with the tether that was from her heart to Jack’s.

   The vampires were almost mutated. This apocalypse world had really taken a toll on all life. Michael of this plain had destroyed everything that was known to be true, even living itself. The habitat of these morsal creatures was dark, and disgusting. Humans had already tried to pass through the deadly lair to reach the other side, to get to the rebellion camp, however, no one had survived to the opposite end of things.

 (Y/N) felt hopeless, even as she walked through the home of the starving monsters. She had never been a fan of vampires, no hunter was, but this was cruel to every extent. They didn’t even appear as human anymore, their fates had been cursed by this ruined land. Without the world that was in her own, they would be worse off, everything in this dimension was.

 Everyone of their company was on edge, Dean ensured that he kept a sturdy eye forward, looking for any light. He knew (Y/N) would have to be okay, it was paved for her to be so in the other universe, she’d be fine. Of course, he still worried, that was what he did in retrospect, all day, every day, he worried that it was to be someone’s last.

 And he was right, as the monsters crept from the dark, tasting the scent of rushing blood in the air. They had lured them from their slumber, and they began to attack, dragging one of the travellers towards their death, where they would be fed on until he was completely drained. (Y/N) swung her machete, beheading one of the animals without a second glance, but perhaps she should have spared another look on the side, as she was a target.

 She was the prey to what she was raised to hunt, it wrapped its clawed hand around her leg like a coil, dragging her to the ground, and feasting its teeth into her supple flesh. This was it, there was no route away from her fate, and her body was already weak from blood loss, and so she gave up, and refused to fight. Her body was dragged into the abyss of the nest, and its members followed after her.

 Sam noticed their apparent glee, they had yet again prized food from them. He looked around to see whom it may be, and he was aghast with the sight. (Y/N) had her eyes shut as her limp form was being taken by vampires, and he froze, traumatised by the sight. And his surprised and hurt stature gave another of the beasts the perfect opportunity to rip into the rubber of his neck, and relish in the unstoppable river of blood that poured out from the fatal wound.

 “No!” Dean cried out, noticing that his sister too had disappeared. Before he could follow after the menaces and get vengeance, and possibly save his family from being the meal of savages, Castiel grasped his arm, pain rendering in the blueness of his vessel’s eyes.

 “They’re gone Dean.” His words rang through the hunter’s head. This was his worst nightmare. Gabriel’s warning had not helped at all, because (Y/N) was dead, and so was Sam. He forced himself to trudge on, pained like no other time before. Sam had died before, but he had always found a way to retrieve him back into life, and even through his tragic absence, he always had (Y/N). Now, the only other Winchester was his mother, who also needed to be saved from this damned world.

   “Think about it Sammy, Jack is going to be so pleased to see you alive, but your little sis, well, I’m sure that is going to be one hell of a reunion between them.” Lucifer smirked, he was in Nick’s body again, using it as a vessel. “And he’ll think of me as a saviour, a knight that saved his princess from a terrible fate.”

 The fallen archangel always had ulterior motives, and Sam realised that he had no choice in whether he’d rather remain dead, or be used as a bargaining chip by the devil himself. His interest in Jack was not exactly pure, it was clear to the man that he sought the backup, the power of his biological son. His intent was to creep into the boy’s mind, and decipher for the kid the difference between wrong and right.

 “That’s what you want, to lie to him about who you are?” He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, even more so that the audience of vampires were seething to break free from Lucifer’s force. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should have been in the bunker, his grace feeding away at Rowena’s spell, and keeping the gate open for their return.

 “I’ll just bend the truth to fit the story, and I care about my son. As you care about your dear sister, and it would be a shame if she were not to wake, and then the news will have to be delivered to my boy, and I’m sure that would just break his half and half heart.” The celestial being, the epidemy of evil tutted at the thought, only to send Sam a mischievous smirk afterwards. “You don’t want him to be like me, but without her, he’ll be in so much pain that he won’t think about his actions. If he has (Y/N/N), then that choice will be entirely up to him, and what he believes in, yada yada yada.”

 The sight of his sister covered in her own blood, motionless on the ground, bite marks on her shoulders and elsewhere drew out a desperation in Sam. He couldn’t not allow the villain to bring her back to life, and it seemed that no matter what he disputed, that Lucifer would do it anyway, to get himself in Jack’s good books. And so he hung his head low, awaiting the personal enemy of his to resurrect the most important woman in his life.

 On first instinct, (Y/N) gasped in air. There was a lack of it rolling around the vitals of her lungs, but her breath was taken away once more, when she saw the looming of a horrifying figure, a first son of god. He was supposed to be, even if forced to do so by the traditions of magic, be at the bunker, revelling them with a way back. Rowena had been left there also, to keep the spell brewing, and a fearful eye on the hellish shadow.

 Assumingly, he had escaped his sentence, and for some reason, brought her to life. It was no mistake as to what the vampires had done to her, she could smell the spilling of her own blood over her thrifted and worn clothes, and it was gruesome. Although it was not the hunter’s first time in being a sponge to her injuries, but nevertheless, she fought to stand beside Sam, who steadied her shaken feet, and balanced out the rest of her body by looping his supportive arm around her waist.

 “Come on.” Lucifer rolled the human eyes that he wore like spectacles into the lives of the Winchesters, unimpressed by the slowness of the world’s large cockroaches. “We have places to be and sons to meet.” At his verbalised of clarity for his ungodly presence, (Y/N)’s body became rigid. His intent was to get to Jack, she couldn’t allow him to provoke a fire inside the boy.

 He was sweet and innocent, even harmless, despite the accident that had happened when he accompanied her and her brothers on a hunt. If Lucifer reached him, he would only try and navigate the darkness inside of him to be what it was, rather than try and make him change it into something brighter, something that was good, like Kelly would have wanted.

 “No.” (Y/N) refused, earning a frown from Sam and a elongated groan from Lucifer. She had died, it didn’t matter if she were to return to that fate, not if she stood by what she truly believed in. Nothing much would change, other than the vampires getting another meal from the same body, Dean already thought that she was extinguished from life, and the news would be passed on before any of them were to reach him.

 “Oh, for crying out loud!” The devil shook his wolfish head, Winchesters were always so stubborn. “I’d allow it if Sam were to stand against the gift of life, I’ve seen what is inside of his head after all, but you! You’re the priority here, you are Jack’s weakness.” This gesture of good faith seemed to be more than it was worth, but if she didn’t comply willingly, then he would force her to follow him along, and live.

 “Where’d you hear that from? He doesn’t have a weakness, he just has a good heart. I’m just another person that he lives with, a soldier that is going to fight anyone that dares to try and hurt him. And I won’t mind if I have to give my life to try and kill you.” She spat at the disgrace of heaven, hardly moved by his goal. As a Winchester, the stubbornness ran through her veins, even if the bloodline itself did not.

 “I hear things, and I did in that bunker. Like how Dean was speaking about you and Jackie boy, and how it all made sense. The shared looks, the flushed faces, all that gross stuff. He didn’t seem too happy with the circumstances, but he was content with the fact that you were alive, like you are again, because of me.”

Lucifer was the last person that (Y/N) would thank for her existence, but she realised that there was no way out of his trap, she was the bait for Jack, that would reel the boy into the wings of his dreaded father.

He could sometimes be so naive, that she feared that Jack would fall for the extension of kindness, one that hardly suited Lucifer. But that was up to him, and in this apocalyptic version of her world, anything could happen.

“She’s dead.” Dean’s voice was gravelly, it had been dragged through hope, and now the realisation that his baby brother and sister were lost to life. The eyes belonging to Jack widened, and tears began to form.

He could quite comprehend how he felt. There was a tearing in his chest, he felt as though he was being split apart, his breathing rapidly increased, and his eyes flared like the bursts of the sun.

Until whispers hit his ears, and he looked up, only to see the girl alive and well. He was not the only one relieved in the circumstances, Dean and Mary were too, but they feared the fact that Lucifer had joined them, and was being trailed by the bloodied siblings; the ones that he had saved for his selfish purposes.

[typinggently]

I have never watched that show. How much background info I should look up to enjoy your Sam x Dean fiction?

Dearest, that’s so sweet ahhh 🥺🥺 Honestly, I’m so honoured that you’re willing to dive into unknown waters for me 🌹🌹🌹 I wrote up a short introduction! ✨

The basics are as follows: Sam and Dean are the sons of John and Mary Winchester, with Dean being 4 years older. After Mary’s supernatural death when Dean is 5, John sweeps his children into his car and leaves the burning corpse of their normal life behind, with a sweltering pain inside of him. Driven by fear for his sons and the burning need for revenge, John raises his sons as hunters and in motel rooms. There is, and that is crucial, no resemblance of a normal life for any of them after Mary’s death.

If we’re speaking in very basic terms, Dean is the daredevil womanising Marlboro Man, complete with muscle car and leather jacket, and Sam is the more soft-spoken smart one who eats salad and has glossy-soft hair. (However, of course, Dean is fiercely family-oriented, protective, good with children. Sam started out with a rebellious streak and is still capable of great violence when he doesn’t keep himself in check. Also Dean’s the type to gaze dreamily into his girl’s eyes and hold her hand as she rides him and Sam’s one night stands are mostly of the ‘rip off your shirt and hit it from behind’ kind.)

~🖤~

Considering there are 15 seasons to choose from, people have (naturally) picked up certain elements that they find most enjoyable. There’s a good deal of people who watch it as a (romantic) comedy.

I personally enjoy the American gothic horror, the way those two are entangled beyond comprehension and, at times, indistinguishable from the monsters they hunt. Even if my fics have different topics or are lighthearted and honey-dripping, the base note is always this: their relationship, due to nature and nurture, is incredibly obsessive. Their world has been reduced to the two of them in the confines of the car or the ever-changing motel rooms, ever since they were little. Dean’s purpose in life was to protect and care for Sam, Sam’s purpose in life was to let that happen. There’s some resentment in that, sometimes you can feel them rebelling against this tangled, claustrophobic mess, but even if they fight and snarl and break up, they always return to one another and heal those cuts in their bond, which, in essence, only means that they settle back into their entangled, Janus-like double soul.

~🖤~

I’ll give you a brief summary of the first five seasons (the core of the show, at least to me), just to illustrate my point. Despite all else that happens, I think that is the foundation of the show, and thus, probably all you need to know to understand what I have in mind while I write.

🔥.1.🔥

The story begins with Sam at college, trying to establish a life away from the road and, in essence, Dean. That attempt of normality burns on the ceiling in the person of his girlfriend Jessica, repeat performance of when his mother’s body lit up his room 21 years ago. Dean picks him up and he goes back to the car, to the life he tried to leave behind, and, essentially, to Dean. They follow a trail of breadcrumbs and coordinates John leaves them to eventually get back to him. They find John, find the demon that killed Mary, and, as the turn of a new chapter is right at their fingertips, get bulldozed by a truck.

🪦.2.🪦

Season two has Dean dying. John can’t let that happen, so he finds the demon responsible for taking everything (his wife, his life, his son) from him to trade his own soul and the only thing that could kill said demon for Dean. John dies, Dean lives, and has to live with that guilt. Just like John, he turns to hunt down the demon responsible for taking everything (his mother, his life, his father). Sam starts having visions, a power grows inside of him that he can’t begin to understand and is incredibly frightened by. The demon sweeps in to steal him away, and Dean comes just in time to catch Sam, powerful and dying, in his arms. Just like John, Dean goes to trade his life. He’s promised one year on Earth, eternity in hell after. Reunited, revived, they find the demon responsible for taking everything and with the help of their father’s soul, kill him. John goes to heaven, Sam goes on living, Dean knows he’s going to hell.

⏳.3.⏳

In season three, Sam lives and has to live with what Dean did. He desperately tries to find a cure, a solution, anything. He finds Ruby, instead, a demon who promises him all three. It doesn’t work, the overly-powerful demon Lilith who was promised Dean after one year, comes and gets him. Sam watches helplessly as Dean is torn apart, then holds him, warm but cooling, in his arms.

🩸.4.🩸

Season four finds Dean finding himself breathing underground. He digs himself out of his own grave and finds Sam and has to find out that Ruby found him first. It’s now that we learn who found Dean and raised him out of hell: Castiel, unkillable, unfathomable, unbelievable. Dean, who never believed in God, now has to learn that there’s a biblical plan laid out for Sam and him. Meanwhile, Castiel, who always believed and is starting to doubt, tries to find God, who’s responsible for it all, but vanished. Meanwhile, Sam is drawn closer and closer to Ruby, by Ruby. While Castiel raised Dean out of hell, Ruby found Sam on Earth and wrapped herself around him, offering a shoulder to cry on and a wrist to drink from. Sam, who wasn’t strong enough to save Dean, quickly gets addicted to demon blood, which makes him stronger than humanely possible — and, in Dean’s eyes, less human. He falls for Ruby and falls for her scheme, which leads to him breaking the seal that kept Lucifer contained, starting what will lead to the end of everything. Ruby’s life ends with Sam’s arms wrapped around her, holding her still as Dean sinks her own knife into her.

⌛️.5.⌛️

Season five leads to the end of the world, with Heaven and Hell trying to convince Sam and Dean to follow the plan written for them: Sam is destined to be Lucifer’s vessel, give over his body to him, while Dean is meant to do the same for Michael. They are meant to fight and kill each other, and thus decide the fate of everything, heaven, hell and earth. They refuse. Dean refuses to let Michael enter and use him, forcing heaven to manipulate their half-brother Adam to step into his big brother’s shoes. Sam invites Lucifer in, but refuses to do as he’s told and breaks the Devil’s hold over him to sacrifice himself and Adam and save everything. It ends with Sam, Adam, Michael and Lucifer trapped for eternity in the cage Sam broke the seal of, and Dean, on Earth. Alone.

(Not quite, of course. Following Sam’s wish, he finds a life for himself, a woman and a child that isn’t his but close enough that Dean can pretend. Outside, in the dark, Sam watches.)

~🖤~

Voilà, that’s it. Sam and Dean kill and die for each other, sell their souls and humanity to save one another or repent for the fact that they couldn’t. There are many, many other stories interwoven there, for example the story of the amulet Sam was meant to gift their father when he was little, for protection. When John doesn’t show up to receive the gift, he gives it to Dean. For decades, the amulet is kept right against his heart, until it stops beating and Sam takes it off, to keep it warm and safe against his own chest. When Dean returns from hell, Sam, who was never able to believe that Dean was really gone, gives it back. Its journey ends where it began, in a motel room with Sam and Dean, when Dean, who finds his faith and hope to save them and the Earth crushed, takes it off and throws it away.

(And a quick look at s6: Dean has the orange juice for breakfast, scent of freshly cut grass life Sam wanted for him for one year, until Sam comes to collect him again. After spending an eternity in the cage with Lucifer (and Adam and Michael, who presumably sat in their corner and made out while Sam was being skinned like Marsyas), Sam was lifted out (by Castiel), but lost his soul and the memories of his torment in the process. What does it mean for one to lose one’s soul, what happens to that person? Sam stops sleeping, he stops caring what other people think, he stops caring for other people in general. He’s an incredibly efficient hunter and spends most of his (limitless, sleepless) time hunting, exercising, or having sex. Despite this empty, cold shell his brother has been reduced to, Dean drops his life of dinner at eight and slow morning sex to join Sam, and gets broken up with over the phone for being too attached to Sam.)

~🖤~

This got quite long after all, but I hope this got the idea across! Those two are very fascinating characters and I love them dearly. Twisted little clowns.

[lyss-alane]

Just A Man

Word count: 2288

Summary: Dean isn't able to hide from the reader anymore. “Enemies” to lovers.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: ANGST, hurt Dean, self-loathing Dean, language, 18+, drinking, age gap, Season 14 spoilers!! 

A/N: I wrote this fic in one sitting, its literally my first fanfiction. Warning, probably cringe writing!!! but its okay because I plan to improve as I write more. Please be patient with my skills, but I do hope you enjoy :)

All mistakes are mine

This is a work of fiction, must be 18+ to read

Dean was in his room, looking through old pictures again. This is where he found himself the safest, in his home with what’s left of his family around him.

He was flipping through some old polaroids he found under the seat of baby along time ago. There were pictures of Sam as a baby, Dean as a kid. There was some of John and Mary together, laughing. His favorite was the one of Mary holding Sammy, she was smiling and her face was full of love.

He had newer ones too that he charished just the same. One of him and Sam outside of Bobby’s house, working on some old Truck. There was one of Bobby drinking a beer and reading a book on that old wornout sofa of his. And then there was one of her, sitting out side on the porch swing. She had a cup of coffee in her hand and her dog Kansas sitting next to her.

Her head was thrown back in laughter because of something Sam said while taking the picture. Those two were always close. Y/N lived at Bobby’s ever sense she was a little girl. She kept the old man alive, and she became extremely close to Sam, they were the same age and attended some of school together.

Holding the picture in his hand Dean found himself smiling again. He always did when looking at her. No matter how much the two fought or disagreed, Dean couldn’t help but love the girl.

Of course she’d never shown any interest in him. Dean was way to damaged to be blessed with someone as graceful as her. The two faught like cats and dogs, and he was pretty sure she hated his guts.

Y/N stuck around with the boys once Bobby died. She was more than grateful to move around with her best friend, but the eldest Winchester kept her on her toes. Everything the green eyed man did seemed to piss Y/N off. She cared deeply for him of course, but it seemed like no matter what she did it was never enough for him.

Whether is was messing up a hunt, not following orders, or something as simple as forgetting to buy his favorite shampoo when she was on a supply run. She quickly learned to keep her distance. Dean was hard on her, but Sam always said it was how he shows he cared.

They were aquantances, not friends.

That was until last week,

Mary died.

She died tragically, everyone who knew her was hurting, but Dean was down right scary. It scared Y/N to see him like this.

Beilive it or not she knew the man inside and out, she knew how good his heart was and all the horrible shit he went through. She loved him, she always had. He was difficult and grouchy most of the time but she loved him all the more.

She knew Mary’s death hit him harder than anything had before, of course it did, she was his mother.

She decided she was going to make dinner for the boys, they hadn’t had much time to do anything lately with everything going on and a home cooked meal could never hurt.

Dean of course didn’t come out if his room to eat.

Y/n knew he needed time, but lately all he did was stay in that room drinking himself to death. She didn’t want to overstep, but seeing him like this hurt. The last time he acted this way was when they lost bobby, and those memories were something y/n couldn’t think about.

“you think he’s going to be okay?” She asked Sam, biting on her nail.

She was putting a plate of food together to bring to Dean, she normally didn’t show so much care for the man, but lately all she could do was worry. Worry and help out how ever possible.

She never let herself get close to Dean, she already had feeling for the guy and they were hardly even friends. She tried to keep as much distance as she could, but right now she knew the boys needed her, and she wanted to do as much as she could to help.

“ to be honest, I don’t know.” Sam said. His face looked exhausted and his shoulders were slauched. He was picking at the food on his plate.

She hated seeing her friend this way. The Winchester were the strongest people she knew and right now it seemed as if they were breaking.

“ well, he’s gotta eat something” she said, grabbing a water from the fridge and the plate she had made for him. “and so do you ”. She said passing Sam and placing a small kiss on his head.

She hated how much it bothered her to see Dean like this. It literally made her stomach hurt, she was worrying so much. He was never good at talking about his feeling, and Y/N was used to that, but when he shut down completely that scared her the most.

“Dean” she knocked softly on his door “ I brought food”

He was passed out with a beer in his hand, face laying flat on his desk. His head felt like it was going to explode if he opened his eyes but he heard someone’s voice, it sounded soft and quit.

“Dean”

He slowly picked his head up off the table and whipped his face in his hands. He looked like he’d been sleeping for days.

He turned around to find the voice and saw Y/N peaking her head in the door. Her beautiful features fixed with concern. Dean just wanted to kiss the worry from her face, whisper everything she ever wanted to hear.

“ Dean, can I come in” she said.

Of course he couldn’t tell her no, the man could never tell her no. Eventhough he felt like he was dying on the inside right now and looked no better on the outside, just seeing her made him smile. 

“Okay” was all he could say, he hated himself for being so weak, for trying so hard to keep her at a distance but right now he could feel his resolve falter.

“ I made you food, you should eat” she said softly, slowly making her way towards him.

His eyes were on her, but it seemed as if he was looking through her. They were puffy and red around the rims. She immediately felt like she was overstepping, but there was no way in hell she was leaving him like this.

She was close enough to him now to smell the stinch of alcohol coming from his every pore. Her stomach was In knots and she felt like she could cry seeing him this way.

“Please eat” she said

“M’not hungry” he slurred.

She slowly made her way towards his desk and put the food next to him despite his protest.

“De-“

“ I said, m’not hungry” he said roughly, pushing the plate away from him

Great, now he was drunk and pissed.

He was stairing down at his lap now, his shoulders slumped in defeat she could have sworn she saw them.. trembling?

Was he crying?

She immediately froze, not knowing what to do. Dean Winchester was crying, he was drunk off his ass, he looked like a broken man and all she wanted to do was pick him up and make him feel whole again.

“De?” She said.

She gently placed her shaking hand on his shoulder and waited for him to react.

His body quickly jerked when he felt her soft touch. He felt like he couldn’t breath or move, he wanted to talk, to scream at her, to jump up and embrace her, to beg her not to leave him. He couldn’t lose her too, but he did just the opposite, he couldn’t help himself.

“ just go, please” he said, softly at first.

It was as if his mind couldn’t catch up with his body, he just sat there and cried, wanting desperately for her to save him, but he’d never admit he needed saving. 

The two hardly talk, they practically ovoides each other everyday, so why did he feel like she was his life line? He’s always felt this pull towards her, one he could never escape, but he sure as hell tried.

He was hard on the girl, but only because he needed her to be the best she could be. He was in love with her, ever sense he turned twenty one  years old. They were drinking outside in the middle of Bobby’s old junkyard, he had snuk her and Sam some beer.

She was the only person to give him a gift that birthday. A kiss. Small and gentle, it wasn’t even on the lips but it was still a gift, one that he held onto forever. He told her everything that night. How much Sammy had hurt him after leaving for college, how much he resented for being so obsessed. He even told her about his mom, about Hey Jude and how she would cut the crust off his sandwiches. And he fell for her, hard and fast, and it scared him shitless. 

So he pushed her away, he fucked everyone in sight and he made her crazy ever chance he got, because she was only going to leave too right ? 

but here she was, waiting on him, keeping him alive everyday by just being there, and it made him so angry, because he knew no matter how hard he tried the girl would never leave his mind. she had his heart wrapped around her finger and she didn’t even know it. He was so fresturated, so mad at himself he couldn’t help but take it out on her.

“ hey I’m here” she said

She slowly brought her hands to wrap around his shoulder, only for him to roughly push off.

“ cab you just leave me the fuck alone.” he groaned, quickly standing up from the chair.

“ why the hell are you here Y/N” he yelled, pointing his finger at her “ what makes you think I want to talk to you, out of all people right now”

His voice was shaking, he put his hands In his hair pulling roughly at it. She just stood there, her mouth quivering. She could see his eyes were red and puffy, his jaw was clenched and fresh tears were making their way down his cheeks. She knew he probably didn’t want to talk to her, but what was she suppose to do, let him slowly drift away one by one. She loved him and even though he was a hard ass, she knew he was a good man.

“ God Y/N” he said, burring his face in his hands “ why are you here, why haven’t you left” voice barely above a whisper.

She had tears running down her face now, he really hated her this much? Her body didn’t want to move from him, but she managed to force her self towards the door.

“I-im sorry Dean” she said shaking.

His head quickly snapped up to look at her, like he could hear her broken heart in her voice. His face immediately softened once he saw the hurt in her eyes. Her once hopeful eyes now sheed with tears.

“ No, you don’t understand” he said sighing, like he couldn’t express how he was feeling. “ I treat you like shit everyday, I- I push you away, God I hate myself for it.” He said clenching his jaw.

“WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE, why haven’t you ran away yet Y/N. you’re nothing but good to me and I return the favor by-by hurting you?” He let out a sarcastic laugh “ I hate myself everyday for the way I treat you Y/N” his voice was shaky now, his body was stiff and it looked like it was hard from him to breath.

“ I’m sorry, I'm sorry I push you away, I'm sorry I beat you down everyday ” he said looking down at his lap. Letting out a shaky breath. “ I care for you so much Y/N and... it scares me sweetheart”

She knew now, she understood everything now. Deep down she always knew, he was scared, scared to be close to someone again, scared to lose another friend. She knew Dean Winchester and she knew he was a good man, an amazing man, but he was still just a man. There’s only so much hurt, so much betrayal one man can go through before they break. She just hopes she can put him back together.

She slowly made her way towards him, gently putting her hand on his face. He pushed his face towards her, finally feeling her touch actually brought him to tears. He knew there was no stopping himself now.

She slowly made her way into his lap, wrapping two small arms around his neck and letting his head fall into her shoulder. She held him as tight as she could, and could feel his body starting to relax.

Embracing each other without saying a word. His arms found their way tightly around her, securing her in place as if silently telling her to never leave him, that he needs this, that he needs her.

“I’m here” she said, her voice shaking but her grip around him staying strong.

He let out the strained breath he’d been holding in, his shoulders falling in defeat. He couldn’t help himself but to fall apart in her arms, it was home. The only place he felt safe and secure enough to truly be venerable. 

“You don't have t’ do this” he whispered, he couldn't comprehend why she was so nice to him, after everything. 

He slowly lifted his head to rest his forehead on hers. He needed her to know how sorry he was, to know how much she meant to him. He cautiously put his lips on hers, waiting for her to back away, to yell or call him stupid.

But here she was, crushing her lips against his, kissing him like she needed air and he was her breath. Holding him together, the most selfless woman.

And he felt like a shell of a man without her arms around him.

He knew then

She was his home and he could no longer run away.

***

YES I KNOW VERY CLICHÉ!! Im trying to improve everyday 😬😬😬

I would like to tag some amazing writers who inspire me everyday, I wouldn’t be into fanfiction if it wasn’t for some of them.

Some I talk to, and some I do not but nonetheless I can only wish one day too be as amazing and talented as they are!

So thanks to them for giving me some inspiration!!!

@jay-and-dean @sunlightdances @roonyxx @writingkeepsmewhole @jawritter @talesmaniac89 @hardcoresupernatural @laphirablack @crossbowking @ne-gans

[blushingjared]

Hate Me Till You Love Me

We Get What We Deserve CH. 2: Hate Me Till You Love Me (Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader)

Square(s) Filled: Neighbors for @spnkinkbingo Ship: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader Characters: Alpha!Sam, Omega!Reader, Beta!Dean, Alpha!Nick, Reader’s Mother, John (Mentioned), Mary (Mentioned) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, A/B/O dynamics, oral (female receiving), slight hair kink, dirty talk, Virgin! Reader, Possessive! Sam, unprotected Sex Word Count: 3.0K

Summary: Y/n and Sam didn’t ever fall in love as kids. Even with their mothers prodding. You always thought Sam was insufferable and you fought more than any two kids you knew. It was a easy place to be in Sams life, until you find out his hate is only surface deep.

We Get What We Deserve Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for posting the wrong one Yesterday. Let me know if you want to be tagged in We Get What We Deserve. Also, I wrote this forever ago and had some very lovely beta’s work on this. If you did, let me know.

Rain pounded against the window as you gazed towards the distance. The house next door was dark and lifeless at the moment. Your hand moved over the sheets covering your bed, slowly moving your body to lay down. Someone yelled downstairs, but you ignored it in favor of listening to the rain. There was always something beautiful to you about the way two separate drops of rain always seemed to come together. A vague memory of your days in chemistry popped into your head about how magnetic water was, but being the girl you were ,you tended to romanticize things. It was easier to imagine those two droplets were just meant to be.

The voices only grew louder the longer you ignored them. Loud, knocking footsteps sounding closer and closer to your room, all before a BANG!  as the door to your room was forced open by your seething mother. Anger dripped off her words as the frown lines on her face creased harder. “Y/N Y/LN, what the hell are you doing up here? Don’t you want to try and see all those cute boys downstairs? All of the perfectly acceptable bachelors.”

Your head started to pound at the thought of being surrounded by a horde of knot hungry Alphas. No, thank you. “I was down there long enough to know that every single one of them were only after a mate.” Was it too much to ask for some fucking romance or at least a good pick up line? In all honesty, you knew that none of those guys down there wanted you. They were only here because your family was rich and your parents had an eligible daughter they needed to marry off to get more heirs.

Not a single one of them cared about your personality or what you had to offer.

“Don’t be delusional. Honey, come down and talk to some of the boys. Mary Winchester and her boys are here too.” Heat flared in your stomach, mixing with your anger like toothpaste and orange juice. It got your attention to say the least.

“Sam’s here?” Your voice betrayed you, coming out more breathless than intended.

“He is. Now put on your dress and come downstairs.” A knowing smirk curled on her painted lips before she turned her back to you and headed back down to the party.

“Shit.” Speaking of the dress, the thing was much too revealing and nothing like what you would wear normally. The blue, skintight dress shimmered and sparkled, making you wonder if the thing wasn’t really meant for a high schooler’s prom. It was all you had though and tonight you were going to knock Sam Winchester flat on his ass.

Sam Winchester and you did not get along. While you two had grown up together your entire life, it seemed neither of you could stand the other. Hell, you were neighbors, your mothers were practically attached at the hip. But neither of you could be in the same room together without throwing something at each other.

A smirk played at your lips as you pulled the dress over your head and slipped into the accompanying shoes. The upper hand was all yours and you could watch Sam struggle to play nice with you. You were counting down the minutes until Sam stormed off. With you trying your best to annoy him? Ten minutes tops.

You checked yourself in the mirror, adjusting your hair and making sure that every single detail was perfect. Sam would have nothing to tease you about. He might have had everyone else down stairs fooled with his puppy dog eyed, gentle alpha act but not you. You could see right through him and see he was just as flawed as everyone else.

Taking the first step out, you willed your breaths to stay calm as you made your way down the stairs and to the party. Soft but prominent classical music played underneath the sea of voices. Thankfully, the party’s true purpose wasn’t to find you a mate. It was your parents anniversary and as beautiful and kind as their love was, at the moment you felt it was a once in a lifetimes. No one looked at you like your father looked at your mother because you weren’t special.

Shaking your thoughts aside, you weaved your way through the high society party goers. Some of them unfortunately turned to look your way, but you ignored them. You were making a bee-line for the Winchesters. It was easy to do, seeing as there was a flock of giggling girls surrounding the eldest Winchester, his deep, rumbling voice cutting through all the others. If you hadn’t known exactly what Dean did with the omegas in the morning, you’d probably be head over heels for the guy as well.

It’d probably make Sam fly off the handle if he saw you two making out.

Sam's head turned around, his hazel eyes landing on your form and something made his lips part, going speechless. You use that momentum and saunter over towards Sam, eyes trailing over his body like he was doing to you.

He cleaned up nicely, dark suit sat on top of Sam’s gigantic frame pretty well. Although you could tell those muscles underneath had to be straining under the tight shirt. It would be stupid of you to think that Sam didn’t have nice physical features as well.

“Heya Sammy. Having fun?” you asked, voice cutting through whatever trance he was in. His eyes closed, along with his mouth and he set his features in a harsh glare.

“Y/n.” The curtness of his reply got you. Sam knew exactly where he was too. He turned his attention to Dean as his older brother slapped him on the back.

“Hey sweetheart, always nice to see you.” Dean's arm wrapped around his brother's shoulder, a drunken smile playing on his lips. “You getting along with my baby brother?” He brought the glass up to his lips and sipped at the champagne glass. When a tray came by, he set it down only to grab a full glass.

“Oh Dean, don’t you know Sammy here hates my guts? Did he already beg to leave?” You added a wink, letting Sam know you had come down surely to torture him. Sam flinched as you said ‘Sammy’, no one but Dean got away with that, except for tonight. Sam had to play nice.

Dean snorted and stumbled towards you, now placing his arm against your shoulder. “Damn, princess. For as much as you hate each other, you sure do know each other real well.” Sam crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, turning his head to the side and trying his best to ignore the way you two were talking about him.

“You know, I think Sammy’s got a crush on ya.” Dean whispered, lips brushing against your ear. The words went straight to your core. No way. It had to just be drunk Dean blabbering. Why were you thinking about this? Why the fuck were you even entertaining the idea that Dean was right?

You had to test this out and as fun as it’d be to use Dean, it’d be a bit too on the nose. Sam would figure it out.

“Hm. I’ll see you around Sam. Thanks for coming.” There was no room left for discussion as you turned and left, missing Sam's reaction to the way you just left. You didn’t bother him or fuck with him. So Sam didn’t know what to do here.

Sam watched with intent as you moved through the room. As much as you preferred to be alone in your room and read, you still knew how to work a crowd. Years of Cotillion classes had prepared you for moments like these. All you had to do was fall back on instincts.

Cocky Alpha boys turned their attentions to you, the charm you laid on was thick. You acted like a brain dead damsel and they played right into your hand. Sam had his eyes on you the rest of the night, especially when you had trained your attention onto one guy in particular. Nick Angel, he was all bright eyes and smiles as you chatted him up. His hand coming to rest on the small of your back.

Sam's eyes narrowed at the action and that was when you knew Sam had a thing for you. A small (big) part of you wanted him to be jealous. It would be the cherry on top to your relationship. All this while, this grown man never stopped acting like the little kid that pulled on the pigtails of the girl he liked.

You pulled away from Nick when you saw Sam leaving, heading to your father's study.  His eyes caught yours again and something close to pain flashed on his face before he closed the door. You followed behind, making your way towards the room as well. What was that look? Sam’s eyes had seemed cloudy and his frown looked more like he was holding back sounds of sadness.

Opening the door slowly, you moved yourself into the room fully and silently. Sam's back was to you and he didn’t seem to notice you had come in. He was breathing pretty raggedly and when he turned around, you felt fear replace every other emotion inside you. His eyes glowed bright red and he looked ready to kill, when his sights became set on you, he clenched his jaw.

“Sammy?” You’re voice was weak as something primal in you made your body cave. Something magnetic wanted you to go to him. The rational side of your brain told you to back away from the ravenous alpha, but the unclaimed omega in you begged to be touched.

He snarled at the nickname and stepped closer to you, his voice was horribly raspy. Each breath Sam took was visible; his shoulders rose and fell each time. Of course doing so made his body seem even more massive than he already was. “Don’t. Call. Me. That.” He hissed and continued to step towards you. Every step, he looked at your face, waiting for you to make the move and leave.

You couldn’t, though.

Sam's hand was gentle as it moved over your hair; his fingers then running through the strands. If you didn’t believe Dean then, you did now. His eyes had returned to their normal color but it didn’t make the feeling of Alpha that Sam's demeanor was screaming to you any less.

“I want you.” Sam whispered. The Winchester's finger curled into your hair, tugging your face right up to his. The force made you jerk forward and because of the height difference made your feet dangle. It hurt like hell and it was the only time you’d truly been scared of Sam. His nose lowered and he ran it along your neck. With Sam being so close, your senses were filled to the brim with nothing but Sam. Sam Sam Sam. It made your brain shut down, your heart rate speed up and most importantly, you were forcing your thighs together to keep the scent of your slick from reaching Sam.

From his expression, that didn’t seem to work. “Stop struggling omega, I can smell you.” His tongue dipped out and ran a stripe along your skin. The coolness of his tongue a sharp contrast from the heat of your own skin. “Let me satisfy you. None of those Alphas could handle you like I could.” He continued the motion, but added his free hand into the mix. He let his thumb brush over the zipper on the dress.

“Sam, we..cant.” You pant, even you didn’t believe that. “We hate each other.” Sam merely chuckled at that. His thumb and pointer finger grasping the zipper and pulled it down. “Sa-Sam.” You whined his name as he moved the straps off of your body.

“I don’t hate you Y/n and you know that. I was just never around a girl who didn’t grovel at my feet. You’re the only girl I want.” Sam whispered. “Don’t you feel the same?” He asked and let you go, the dress slipping down your body.

A blush spread across the both of your faces. The lingerie set you wore was meant more to not show up under the skin tight dress. Very little was left to the imagination, as you wore a thong and a push up bra. There was a cold breeze that flashed over your body, bringing your nipples to a point. Sam kept his eyes level to yours, respectful.

It was amazing to you, the way Sam was dominate and yet still respectful of you. You could have easily left but you didn’t want to. You wanted to be here.

Your eyes lingered on Sam but you realized you had been looking at your relationship all wrong. Yeah, Sam was the only one out there that didn’t act differently around you and you never changed who you were for him.

Somehow there had been a Jane Austen romance brewing between you two. Now here he was, asking to make you his.

How could you turn down those puppy dog eyes?

“Yeah Sam. I want you.” That seemed to be enough for him.

Sam pinned you against the door, fingers wrapping around both wrists as he lowered his mouth to yours. He smirked and stilled only inches apart from you. You whined, wanting to feel the alpha’s kiss. He let you keep on like that for a while but eventually Sam couldn’t hold off from teasing you.

He kissed you, and the inner twelve year old screamed in excitement. It wasn’t your first kiss but the few that you’d had were utter garbage compared to this. Sam was experienced and knew how to make each touch or caress turn you into a whimpering mess. “Please Sam, more.”

A smile grew on Sams face as you begged him. “Anything you want, princess.” He manhandled you and set you down on your father’s desk. Sam went back and locked the door from any wandering party goers. His hand moved from your inner thigh to your core, his thick fingers pressing against you.

His lip curled into a snarl as he brought his face down to your knees. Sam's eyes lingered on your bare skin, pushing your thighs apart. The room was silent as Sam buried his face there and started to kiss at the smooth and silky skin in front of his face.

“Sam,” You whined, voice coming out weak and desperate. Something was stirring in you, but all you wanted was Sam, completely. Your body didn’t feel like your own as Sam tugged your thong to the side. Sam's head lowered and nuzzled his way into your folds wordlessly.

Nothing had felt as good as Sam Winchester between your thighs. A few expert licks and sucks had you humming like a girl who figured out what her clit did. Your body was crying for more, the slick that was slipping out of your cunt like water on glass. Over and over. Sam kept his head buried between your thighs. Almost as if he was worshipping you, or apologizing for the years of anger between the two of you.

At some point in one of your orgasms, you begged him to fuck you. Good and proper, like an omega in heat. Sam seemed willing enough as he pulled back from your slit and started to undress to your level. “Cmon Alpha. Fill me up.”

That was all Sam needed to turn you around and force you onto your stomach. He grabbed a fist-full of your hair and tugged your head back. Sam's cock brushed along the outside of your slit. His head burying into your neck. “You were purposefully fucking with me all night. Touching Dean, touching Nick. All the wrong men. I watched you, I know you haven’t fucked anyone. Which means your pussy is going to be mine and mine alone.”

The words might have just been talk but the way Sam made you feel like you were always going to be his made you weak in the damn knees. Sam didn’t need to worry about it being too tight to get into you. Your body was more than prepped. His hands dropped to your waist as he fucked you over and over onto his cock, He let you enjoy the feeling of it. He wanted you to be ruined for any man, should you think he couldn’t be enough. He watched as you came for what felt like the hundredth time.

You didn’t mind Sam ruining you; it seems he was going to be hard to get off your mind.

Sam’s nose crinkled slightly as he woke up to the alarm on his phone. One of his hands raised to his face as he rubbed at his eyes. He turned the alarm off before he got out of bed and headed to the shower. His forehead pressed against the cold tile as he let the cold water rush over him.

His thoughts lingered  on his dream. Pushing aside from how real it felt and the intense hard on he’d gotten once he’d woken up. Sam also longed for the life this /other/ version of himself. He could count on his fingers the amount of times he’d dreamt like this. Of himself in another life, a happier one. 

What made him confused though was that even then Sam dreamed of Madison or Amelia.  Jessica on a particularly rough night. Sam wasn’t sure where he’d seen you before. He must have, otherwise, how would he have known who you were otherwise? Y/N Y/LN…He’d have to find you. 

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