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#dean winchester x sister!reader
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Summary : Your phone dies just when you lied to your father about where you are. How does he react when he finds you?
Warnings : Being chased by somebody
A/N : woo woo! First Beau fic, thanks to @dreamerbouquet 🪷🪷 alsooooooooo, i'm so angry at how my writing is so repetitive yall 😭 i hate it i need a change.
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-- Your phone dies before you get to send that last text..
Fucking hell. You just lied too-you weren't right...quite on Ousel Falls, you're still in the woods near by, limping your way out as you dragged your bicycle through the mud.
You SOMEHOW trip over something and fly forward, landing over a broken branch that brushes your skin just enough to remove it.
Fuckking hell..
Thankfully, you know your way through the vast space and so you walk...and walk, spinning around when a creaking sounds behind you..."Hello?" You say, frantically looking around. Dear god...
Another creak sounds and a figure appears from afar, seemingly running towards you. A gasp escapes your lips and you push away the bicycle before spriting forward, in spite of your aching foot. You run and hop over branches, looking over your shoulder at the person running after you.
You didn't have time to back down, you thought of your father, what he'd do-Thankfully you're only a little under a mile away from the entrance of the woods, and so your feet spring faster-and as you look back once more, you bump into something-which you push away.
"N-No." You push agaisnt it-
"I'ts me, it's me-it's dad."
"We have to go they're com-"
"Calm down, calm down honey-it's just a bunch of kids" Your dad shakes your body gently, leaning close to you to get your attention. "They ran away already, just a bunch of kids."
You take a breather, processing as your heatbeat starts slowing down...
"Come here." He says, pulling you into his chest, one hand envelopping your back and the other resting over the back of your head. "Dear god...you scared me-i thought-" He shut himself up, proceeding with a long sigh.
You pull away from him, biting your lip in an attempt to dtop your quivering chin. "I'm sorry...i-" a sob escapes your throat and you lean back into his chest- Relief has finally hit you and your muscles relaxed... "i'm sorry i didn't mean to scare you-or for my phone to die i-"
He interrupts you, pulling you away firmly. And when your eyes meet, a wave of emotions travels through his eyes. He looks worried and sad and relieved and angry, all of which overwhelm you.
"What did i say about going to the woods alone?" His voice is firm. But the tenderness in his furrowed eyebrows isn't. "What did i say about that?" He demands a response and you just don't have one.
"I-i m-i don't know-I I didn't take it that seriously-" you stop yourself, hell..you just exposed yourself-you shouldn't have.. "i'm sorry."
Your dad rubs your back "It's okay.." He rests his chin over your head, temporarily planting kisses on it.
"It's okay...i'm here now." Your dad reassures you one last time before stepping back. "Do we need to go to the hospital?" He kneels down when his attention lands on your bleeding leg.
"No, no need for that." You reassure him back, staggering back when he held your leg up a little high. You rested your hand on his shoulder, balancing yourself. "I'm okkay."
You're not-You wince as your father examines what turns out to be an open cut.
"Can you walk?"
You roll your eyes. "Dad, it's not that serious it's just a c-"
"Can you or can you not?" He cuts you off.
"I caaaan..." You groan in annoyance. It's a lie but-he's already tired enough
"Okay....let's go then. If i notice you're limping i'm carrying you back." He orders and a smile appears on your face.
"Okay" You can't fight that. "Thank you."
"I'm...i'm just glad you're okay, honey."
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I wish i could've made this one longer. But i'm too tired. Anyway, kissies yall, i hope you enjoyed reading this 🥀🥀🥀❤️❤️❤️
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months
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Protector
Requested by @captaincvans
Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader
Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector
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It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.
“Who is this? How did you get this number?”
“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”
To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.
“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”
“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.
Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.
He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.
Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.
So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.
A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.
So you stayed behind.
But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.
“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“
“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”
“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”
“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”
“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.
“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”
Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.
“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.
“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”
“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”
The screaming stopped again.
“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”
“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“
“I think we’re done here.”
The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.
“We got a location.”
Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.
“Finally, let’s go.”
“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”
“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.
“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”
“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.
“The plan is get her back.”
You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.
However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.
Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.
“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“
Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.
“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.
“Dean?”
Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.
“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”
“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.
There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.
“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.
Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.
“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.
“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”
Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.
“Alright, I’ll drive.”
“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.
“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.
“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.
“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.
“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”
Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.
“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”
You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.
“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”
Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.
“You…but you were gone for three days.”
“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.
“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”
You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.
“Dean, it’s not your fault.”
He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.
“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.
“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”
“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“
“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”
“Then say it.”
Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.
“I’m ok,” you insisted.
“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.
Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.
He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.
You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.
The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.
“I’m so sorry,” he choked.
You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.
“I’m ok.”
You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.
So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.
You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.
“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.
“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.
After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.
He was your protector, always.
But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.
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castiwls · 3 months
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"sacrifice, that's what we do for the people we love"
being the middle child in the winchester family...
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I’d imagine you being like two years younger than Dean and two years older than Sam. So like literally the middle child
Your memories of your mum are fuzzy but you can recall a few things
When Mary died you were only two so you didn’t really understand what was going on for a while.
When you all first left Lawernce you spent most of that first night in a motel room crying because you wanted your mom and your bed. (Dean had to comfort you cause John left his two toddlers and baby alone in a motel #dadoftheyear)
When you were like ten your dad told you about what he had been doing for the past eight years. You were terrified but he made you promise not to tell Sam. He also made sure you knew that it was your job to keep Sam safe. 
Basically, you stopped being a child at ten.
You and your brothers were really close.
You and Dean basically trauma-bonded over hunting and also having wayyyy too much responsibility at a young age. 
Out of you and Dean, you were more emotionally available so Sam tended to tell you more.
As he got older he would talk to you about getting out and stuff. While your dad and Dean were very much into hunting you and Sam were more of on the sidelines. 
Sam got his love of reading from you. He’d always tell you about the books he was reading and what he was doing in class.
You’re the mediator for the family. It was always you who broke up fights. You were also able to calm your father down.
Mentioning in a passing comment that you didn’t want to hunt when you were like 15 and John flipped.
“If you don’t want to help kill the thing that killed your mom then you can get out.”
So you did. You left at 15 for 6 months.
In reality, you went to stay with Bobby but you never told your dad that.
Dean begged you to stay and would call every day. So would Sam.
Around this time Sam also started to want to leave. 
“I wanna come stay with you.” You sighed leaning against the wall. The phone rested between your ear and shoulder. “You can't Sam. Dad would flip your too young.” He let out a frustrated noise but let the topic go. (for now)
Dean would also call often and beg you to come home.
“Look he didn’t mean it, alright. It was just a heat of the moment thing.”
You did eventually come back. (Bobby wasn’t happy but let you go)
Your brothers were overjoyed and you actually got an apology from your dad (shocker.)
Things were ok for a few years and then Sam got a bit older and started talking about school. He’d only talk to you about it though. It wasn’t that Dean hated the idea but he didn't understand.
One day when you were 18 and he was 16 Sam asked to talk in private. So you took him to a dinner near the motel and he told you about Stanford.
“One of my teachers thinks it's possible.” He pushed the pamphlet towards you. “I just need a signature from an adult and I know Dad won't sign it.” You quietly looked over the pamphlet for a moment. A sense of pride washed over you as well as relief. This was his way out. “Of course, I’ll sign it.”
You both kept it quiet for the next year and when his acceptance letter came in you both kept it to yourselves but you were so proud
#proud parent moment.
Though eventually, Dean found the letter. 
“Did you know about this?” He asked holding up the letter. You felt your blood run cold as you grabbed the letter from him. “Yes. I did know.” You admitted. “It was me who signed the papers.” Your brother's eyes widened a look of betrayal crossed his face. “Why would you do that?” His voice began to rise as he spoke. “Because Sam deserves a future Dean.”
You two didn’t speak for a while after that. Dean got over it though.
When it came time for Sam to leave that's when all hell broke loose.
You’d never heard your dad yell so loud. He and Sam went back and forth for hours until your younger brother just walked out. You and Dean both followed him. After calming him down you went with him to the bus and said goodbye.
Dean was kinda non-plussed (inside he hated it and was worried sick). You were worried but happy that he was getting out.
When you and Dean went back to the motel John was furious. He blamed you (of course)
“This is your fault. You're the one who put all those ideas in his head and look what happened.”
Dean jumped in front of you and told him to back off. 
“Sam’s his own person you can’t blame her for this!”
After this, you and Dean get closer. John starts taking more hunts alone meaning that you and Dean spend a lot of time just driving around.
You would probably class this as the first time in your life you felt truly happy. Hunting with Dean was easier and there were fewer arguments.
Sam would call u often to update you. When he told you that he’d met a girl you were so happy for him. (it really seemed he got out)
But then your dad went missing and Dean insisted on getting Sam to help.
You were glad to have both your brothers back but at the same time felt insanely guilty as you watched Sam fall back into hunting.
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rustys-lodge · 7 months
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Requested by anon : Can you write a spn fic of dad sam/dean where she texts her dad from her room about needing help because depression gets really bad and she wants to self harm? And dad just helps her ride the wave and comforts her. Thank you
Warnings : Depression, self harm
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And without a single warning, the door to your room flew open. And there he was, standing with that empathetic smile on his face.
You'd believe it if you couldn't clearly see the worry glistening in his eyes.
"Is this where my beauty needs help for her sleep ?"
Your lips quivered and a whimper left your lips, causing your dad's shoulders to slump.
Nice try. But the wound is too deep to close up with a simple joke. And the joke is not funny. But your dad got the memo, since he flew to your bed and sat himself beside you.
"Scooch" He commanded before bringing your upper half over his chest. So you layed diagonally on the bed, with your back up to his chest, giving him scape to wrap his arms completely around your neck.
You needed that. Badly. And when your whimpers got louder, your dad hugged you tighter.
"It's bad, dad..." You choked on a sob.
"I know...kid...i know" Your father planted a kiss on your head. And his hands let you go....discreetly traveling down your arms.
He was checking to see if you'd flinch...that would mean you did it again. And you know this move because you've been through this as well.
Him randomly touching your arms, squeezing from time to time to see if it hurts you. At first you pretended like it didn't. But at some point, you realized there's no need to pretend. He knows.
"I didn't do it." You informed him and a slight sigh of relief hit your ear.
"That's my girl." Another kiss fell on the back of your back of your head. "Give me those hands."
You complied and your dad criss-crossed your arms and set your hands on your opposite shoulders, before bringing his own arms over yours.
"I'm here now, kid."
And as weird and narrow as it may have seemed. You were wrapped in a loving embrace.
And although your drowning thoughts were not ceasing, warmth flooded your body and your muscles tensed down...you hadn't slept in a while. It's been hard..Really hard.
With his arms still wrapped around your chest, your dad sung to you, considerably low, guiding you to sleep.
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Sorry for the never-changing ending. It seems that comfy fics cannot end any other way. Anyways, hope this helps someone on a lonely night !! ❤️❤️❤️⚘️⚘️⚘️
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superlunar-eclipse · 3 months
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🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ ACROSS THE COUNTRY
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SUMMARY ➤ Dean and Sam, concerned about their missing father, approach their estranged elder sister Y/N, an FBI agent, for help. Despite initial resistance due to past grievances and her current job, Y/N eventually agrees to join them in their search, setting the stage for a journey filled with potential challenges and dangers.
WARNINGS ➤ injury’s, injured Y/N, stabbed wound (to the shoulder), small shard of glass on Y/N’s face and the back of their head, and slight arguing.
CHARACTERS ➤ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N Winchester, mentions of John Winchester, and Adam William (added character)
WORD COUNT ➤ 1,180 words
OTHER ➤ Y/N is a FBI agent, small mention of Y/N being 32 years old, set in season 1, episode 1.
AUTHOR’S NOTE ➤ first fanfic! hopefully dean and sam don’t act too OOC, but lmk if they do!
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"Dad hasn't been home in a few days."
Sam took a deep breath before responding, "So, he's working one of his usual overtime shifts on a 'Miller Time'. It's nothing to worry about. He's bound to stumble back in sooner or later."
Dean glanced down at the cold, hard ground, allowing his eyes to linger there for a moment before looking back up at Sam. His voice was full of concern as he said, "Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days."
Sam’s expression remained stoic, giving away nothing of the worry that was slowly starting to creep in. Jess, who had been quietly observing the exchange, glanced up at him.
"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."
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"I mean, come on. You can't just break into my place in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said, his voice echoing in the silence of the night as he followed Dean down the stairs.
"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I'm not just asking you to hit the road with me. I need you to help me find him." He looked back at Sam, his eyes pleading for understanding.
"I- I don’t understand, why couldn’t you have called Y/N? Isn’t she an FBI agent or something like that?" Sam questioned, his hand reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to halt his progress.
Dean sighed loudly, a sound that echoed throughout the quiet night. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he had whenever he was troubled. "Well I… kinda don’t know where she is…" he admitted shamefully.
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, a clear sign of his confusion. "What do you mean you ‘don’t know where she is’?"
Dean pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Well I don’t know her exact location but I know she’s somewhere in Washington DC or something like that!"
Sam scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. "That’s all the way across the country."
"Well did you want this to go quicker?" Dean shot back defensively.
Sam simply rolled his eyes at Dean.
"Look, are you coming with me or not?" Dean asked, his patience clearly running thin.
"I’m not." Sam said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Why not?" Dean questioned, his frustration clear.
"I swore I was done hunting. For good."
"Come on. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t all bad."
Dean starts heading down the stairs once again, with Sam quickly on his trail.
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"You know, in almost three years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean tried to reason, his voice softening.
Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.
"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find the both of them."
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Y/N, a 32 year old FBI agent, sat in the back of the ambulance as the woman cleaned up her many cuts. Her shoulder had been stabbed by the unsub and her head was smashed into a sheet of glass.
"Alright, you're done." The woman finished cleaning her cuts, placing a bandage on her forehead and applying gauze tape to her wound.
Y/N smiled at the woman and hopped off the ambulance truck.
"Y/N!" someone shouted from the distance. She turned to see her great friend Adam, who was the first one to welcome her to the FBI.
She smiled softly as he gave her a comforting hug, "Ow, my shoulder." Her nose scrunched up in pain.
"Sorry," the corners of his mouth turned up as he let go of her.
Other agents of the FBI walked up to her, thanking her for her bravery. "Thank you for saving that girl's life."
"No problem." She gave them a comforting smile.
The agents walked away to discuss matters with other departments.
Y/N and Adam talked about the case for a little while, before Adam turned his attention to something behind her.
"Hey, do you know those people over there?" He asked.
She turned around to look at the people Adam was pointing at. She tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly as she tried to recognize them.
Why did they look so familiar?
Her face paled when she realized who they were.
"Uhm, yea- yeah I do, I’ll be right back," she stuttered, patting his shoulder reassuringly before she walked away.
"What are you guys doing here and how in the hell did you guys find me?" Y/N whispered-yelled at the two boys, her eyes wide with surprise.
"We need your help," Dean replied simply.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, "Oh, so all of a sudden you both need me after what, three years of not talking to me?"
Dean, with a dramatic flair that was all too typical of him, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Listen-" he began, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.
But she cut him off, her frustration palpable. "Dean, please, I really don’t have time for this," she said, waving a hand dismissively.
Sam, practically silent until now, took a step forward. His eyes critically scanned over her face and body, noting the signs of recent distress. "What happened to your shoulder?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
In response, she lifted a brow and shot him a sarcastic look. "Take a guess, Sam. I’m in the FBI," she said dryly.
He rolled his eyes at her retort. Typical Y/N, he thought, not for the first time.
Dean, who had been silent during their exchange, finally spoke. "Dad’s been missing for a few days, and we… we need you," he stated, his eyes narrowed and serious.
Her reaction was almost immediate. Her jaw tightened, her eyes darkened, her whole demeanor turned defensive. "And why would I want to find him?" she shot back, her voice icy.
He faltered, at a loss for words. He turned away, his gaze landing aimlessly on the nearby crime site.
Now it was Sam’s turn to speak up. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please, we really need you right now," he implored, giving her a puppy-dog look. It was a tactic he used to use all the time when he was younger to get what he wanted.
She looked away from him, her lips pursed, her face screwed up in thought. After a long pause, she finally voiced her question. "How- how long is this going to take?"
Dean was the one to answer. "Four days."
She sighed out loud, a wearied sound that echoed in the silence. "You do realize I have a real job, right?" she asked, a note of exasperation in her voice.
Dean rolled his eyes, a retort already forming on his lips. But before he could speak, Y/N interrupted him.
"Fine, I’ll go with you two," she said, her voice resigned.
Dean smiled lightly, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, Y/N."
And so, they walked together to Dean's car, unaware of the challenges and dangers that lay ahead of them.
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hunterscabin · 11 months
Text
Everything Goes Wrong
Summary: Dean is there to comfort his little sister after she suffers a fatal injury while hunting.
Pairings: Dean x Sister!Reader; Sam x Sister!Reader
Warnings: Angst; hurt/comfort; whump; death
Word Count: 1.3k 
Author’s Note: Requested from anonymous many moons ago. 
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Dean. He was running toward you, screaming your name. You couldn’t comprehend his urgency; the leviathan were dead, the fight was over.
It all happened so quickly. You walked into a battle already underway. A small group of hunters also trailing the levis were first to arrive at the hideout, complicating an already dicey hunt. At the sight of their chaotic fighting, it became immediately clear that none of them had the tact or skill of a Winchester. Your brothers took action, causing two of the chompers to flee. Dean tossed one of the rookie hunters a sack of crude borax bombs and instructed them to capture the runaways. Sam crossed the warehouse, distracting one of the remaining leviathan. Dean took advantage of his brother’s diversion, driving the righteous, blood soaked bone he brandished deep into her skull.
On the other side of the abandoned stockroom, you were taking a beating from the last leviathan. He had been momentarily stunned by the bottle of borax you smashed over him, but his resiliency was remarkable. Almost immediately regaining his composure, he flung you into a pile of scrap metal. You scrambled to your feet, unsheathing your knife in the process. He made quick work of disarming you before effortlessly pinning you against a steel support beam. You winced, preparing for the worst, when suddenly, he retreated. Your eyes opened to find Sam impaling him with the bone several yards away.
High off the action, your entire body pulsed with energy. Or was it throbbing? Normally, the adrenaline of a hunt didn’t make you this… this… what was this feeling? You heard Dean shout your name again. Why did he sound so strange? A warmth spread across your stomach, and you looked down to find a mess of red. Blood? Your blood. Soaking your clothes and pooling at your feet. Bewilderment washed over you as your fingers wrapped around the handle of your blade. 
Just as Dean reached your side, your legs buckled. He braced your fall and carefully lowered you to the ground.
"Sammy!" Your eldest brother’s voice was gruff and full of urgency.
Consumed with killing the leviathan, Sam had been unaware of the commotion behind him. When he turned to see you bleeding in Dean’s arms, Sam shot up and sprinted toward you. He landed hard on his knees in front of Dean.
"Just the knife?" Sam’s eyes darted rapidly up and down your trembling form, trying to assess the damage.
Not wanting to speak the words, Dean nodded, his expression telling Sam the severity of your injuries.
“The car’s too far.” Dean thought aloud.
Sam wrestled with his next move. He didn’t want to leave you. He knew your chances of surviving were slim. He heard it in Dean’s tone. He saw it on your bloodstained clothes. Still, if there was even the slightest chance of saving you, he had to try.
“I’ll see if I can catch up with the other hunters.”
Both men knew it wouldn’t be enough, but it was the best Sam had to offer. Dean nodded reluctantly.
As your brothers’ muffled voices became more clear, so did your reality. The once dull pressure was now a searing pain. Your body screamed and your face contorted.
"Y/N, look at me.” Your eyes, wide with fear and confusion, found Sam’s. "You're gonna be okay. I’m going to get help.” 
Sam leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right back, Y/N/N. I promise.”
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Through a large, broken window, Dean watched Sam tear across the field and into the nearby woods. When he glanced back at you in his arms, your eyes were closed.
"Y/N, you gotta stay awake." Dean gently shook you until your gaze met his. "That's my girl."
"So tired, De." Your groggy voice begged for sleep.
"I know you are, kiddo, but I need you to keep your eyes on me.”
"Too hard,” you murmured, “Can’t do it."
"Yes you can, sweetheart." Dean was no longer able to mask his concern. "How can I help, Y/N/N? Tell me what to do."
Your brother’s desperation lifted the fog numbing your senses, and you clearly understood what you hadn’t before; you were dying. Anyone else would panic at this realization, beg their God for more time, cling to the last bit of life and fight. Not you. You woke every morning knowing this was a possibility. Saving people, hunting things; it was a dangerous road.
You weren’t bitter; no matter how menacing, your days were full of purpose, and that wasn’t something most people could say. You weren’t afraid; years of close calls had prepared you for this moment. You were, however, insurmountably saddened by the fact that Dean had to watch you die. You knew he would bear the weight of your absence completely despondent and guilt ridden. There was so much you wanted to say to ease his inevitable grief, but talking had grown increasingly difficult as words and breath eluded you. The most you could do was take the hand of solace Dean extended. You silently prayed that would be enough. 
"Tell me a story."
Dean smiled. Between your sleepy eyes and the way you were curled in his arms, it felt like you were little again.
“Have I ever told you about the day mom and dad brought you home from the hospital?”
You shook your head “No.”
“Sammy was not happy.” Dean gave a weak laugh remembering how ornery his brother had been. 
“He locked himself in his room. I tried to tell him that having a little sibling wasn’t all bad, but he wouldn’t listen. Dad had to take his door off the hinges to get him out.”
“He loves’me now.” you noted dreamily.
“He sure does.” Dean agreed, furrowing at your slurred speech. Another sign that your body was succumbing to its injuries. 
“That phase lasted less than an hour,” he continued. 
“Wha’happn’d?”
“He held you.” Dean’s voice was thick with nostalgia. “Mom convinced him. He sat in Dad’s chair, and she laid you in his lap. He wasn’t sure at first, but then you smiled.” 
Despite your pain, a contented grin eased across your face. 
“Just like that.” 
“D’d you hold me?”
Dean nodded. “You were so small, but I swear your eyes were as big and Y/E/C as they are now. I stared at you for hours. I never wanted to let you go.” I still don’t want to let you go. 
Dean paused to clear the sadness from his throat, but he was losing the battle against his emotions. He could see your eyes growing dim and feel your skin getting cold. You didn’t have much longer. 
“I love you so much, Y/N/N.” Dean’s words were short and breathless. 
“I love you too.” 
Dean pulled you closer and placed a warm hand on the side of your face. 
“De?” A small, crimson spot appeared at the corner of your mouth. “C’n I close m’eyes, now?"
At once, Dean felt everything and nothing. He knew the instant your eyes closed, he’d never see them again. He cursed himself for bringing you on such a risky hunt. He cursed himself for not keeping a better eye on you during the fight. He cursed Sam for still being gone. Not because he thought his younger brother would bring anything or anyone to save you, but because he knew how broken he’d be, returning to find his little sister asleep forever. He wanted to shake you, to scream, to do everything in his power to ensure your heavy lids didn’t fall, but he refrained. He knew this would be the last comfort he could ever give you. Dean surrendered to his heartache and let you slip from this world.
"Yeah, baby girl. You can rest now. I’ve got you.”
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Masterlist
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Text
Tubberwear
Dean: I don’t even use tubberware anymore.
Sam: What are you saying? Say it again.
Dean: Tubberware.
Sam: Say it again. Slow.
Dean: Tubberware.
Sam: Slow, very slow - actually, say the first syllable.
Dean: Tub.
Sam: Wrong.
Dean: What do you mean, wrong?
Sam: I thought I caught that. You’re saying tub. It’s P.
Dean: What are you talking about?
Sam: Tupperware. Tupper.
Dean: It’s tupper!
Sam: It’s tupper, always has been, always will be.
Dean: I thought it was tubberware because it kind of looks like a tub.
Y/N, deadpan: I should’ve stayed with Bobby
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lostgirl677 · 6 months
Text
Home alone
One-shot
Winchester Brothers x Little sister! Reader
Masterlist
Request : Heyy, how are you doing? I was wondering if I could request for supernatural:3Maybe something where reader is Sam and Dean's little sister (13/14) and it's set on the first episode maybe.So, basically Sam leaves her home alone because he's going hunting with Dean, she finds out just in the morning because he hasn't left a note or anything and she starts to panic, but then she calls them and they calm her down?It's ok if you can't or don't take requests, I Hope you have a wonderful day! Remember to take care of yourself:3
A/N: Sorry it took a long time. I really do hope you'll like it. Maybe it won't be exactly how you expected it.
My eyes slowly opened as the birds sang softly near my window. I began to wipe the fatigue from my eyes as I sat up in bed. I had the weirdest dream last night. One where Dean entered the flat by a window and took Sam with him to find dad. It surely meant that I missed my dad and my brother after four years without seeing them. And Sam barely mentioning them nowadays didn’t help. As the drowsiness of sleep faded, I became aware of my surroundings and noticed that the apartment was eerily quiet this morning. This silence could only indicate two things: either it was very early, or I slept in. By the window, I could see that the sun was already up. I then decided to check my alarm to finally know what time it was. It was 8 AM. At least, I didn’t oversleep. Stretching my legs, I got up and made my way to the kitchen. Passing by the living room, I noticed that everything has been left untouched since yesterday. The coffee table was still covered in books and notebooks as well as various uncorked markers left haphazardly here and there. It was curious, since Sam was pretty much the tidy type, unlike Dean and I. I definitely won’t miss the opportunity to remind him that for once I was not the one leaving a mess behind.
But weirder, when I arrived in the kitchen I saw various cups and plates left on the table and the sink. Sam and Jess would never leave such a mess behind them. But they were probably still drunk from last night. “Sam? Jess?” I finally called. The silence was deafening. I thought for a second that maybe one of them was in the bathroom. So I came to the bathroom door and knocked softly. “Sam? Jess? Are you in there?” But again, complete silence was the only answer I got. There wasn’t even a water noise or the sound of someone brushing their teeth. There was only one room left, Sam and Jess’s. Maybe they were the ones oversleeping? I finally came to their room’s door. As I approached, I immediately noticed the absence of snoring noise. I then knocked on the door. I was once again met with utter silence. Frustration was slowly building in me. So I slowly opened the door and said “I’m coming inside! If I catch you doing something unsuitable for my innocent eyes, I won't be the most embarrassed!”. But, once the door was opened, I only saw a neatly made bed and an empty room.
I let out a rather loud sigh as I closed the door behind me. Maybe they went to the grocery store, or the library? I refuse to think about anything worse. But they would never leave me without at least a little note somewhere. So,  I made my way back to the kitchen to check the fridge to see if they left me a note. But there wasn’t anything in the fridge door or anywhere else. My heartbeat increased with each passing second. Panic was overtaking me and the worst case scenarios ran in my mind. What if something happened to them? What if our old ‘lifestyle’ finally caught up to us? Anxiety was slowly overwhelming me. But I tried to reassure myself and immediately thought about the table next to the door. I practically ran like a maniac toward it, in hope of finding something. But my hopes were crushed when I didn’t find a single note on the little notepad.
My last option was the phone. Thankfully, the little red light was flickering, indicating that someone had left a message. I pushed the button and silently prayed. But when I played the voicemail, I noticed that there wasn’t any message coming from Sam or Jess. I tried to call Jess and Sam right away. But I managed to get voicemail for both of them. “Sam, please! At least tell me you’re okay. I’m anxious. Please call me back soon!” I was really having trouble breathing. I let myself slide down the wall behind me and ended up sitting on the cold wooden floor. The flood of scary thoughts came back to torment me.
I always knew what lurked in the dark. Dad had made sure of it since I was little. Hell, he practically handed me a dagger when I told him I was afraid of monsters under my bed. Thankfully, Dean and Sam always made me feel safe. Even if I was only their half-sister, Dean and Sam were always there with me and never ostracized me for not having the same mother. If anything happened to them, I didn’t know what I would do. When Sam left for Stanford, he took me with him, leaving Dean and dad behind. They were always on my mind and I missed them everyday, especially Dean. He raised me more than dad ever did. I often had nightmares where something bad happened to them. What if it already happened and Sam was the next to die? What if…? My fear overwhelmed me and clouded my mind with the most horrific visions of my family’s corpses.
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the phone ringing. Without even thinking, I jumped and threw myself on the phone. “Y/N?” His voice made my heart jump. “Sam?! Where are you? Are you okay? Where’s Jess?” I blurted out in haste, almost out of breath. “Easy, Y/N. Everything’s okay. Jess is at the library. She probably forgot to tell you, sorry. She’ll come back soon. I’m…” There was another male voice interrupting him. I recognized it right away. “Dean?! Oh my god, Dean! I’m so glad to hear your voice. I missed you so much.” I practically screamed on the phone. I heard a bit of bickering when Dean took the phone.”Happy to hear your voice too, sis. I miss you too.” I could hear the smile in his voice. I never felt more relieved in my life. But suddenly, I realized that if these two were together, it meant that something bad happened. “What happened?”, I asked anxiously. There was a bit of silence before Dean replied “Well, dad didn’t come back from one of his hunts. So I came to your apartment last night to get Sam’s ass in the car and try to find dad.” So, I heard them last night. I thought that it was a dream.
“But, why didn’t you take me with you?” I asked and I knew that hurt was evident in my voice when I heard him sigh. “Listen Y/N, we didn’t want you involved in this. You finally have a normal life and we couldn't take it away from you just like that. It’s just another hunt involving what we think is a kind of ghost. It’s basically milk run for us. Soon, I’ll drive Sam back and you’ll keep living your life as if nothing happened.” “A normal life?! Are you kidding? I still sleep with a dagger under my pillow, just in case.” I heard Dean taking a deep breath. He was probably looking for a witty comeback , as always. But before he could answer, I heard Sam. “Y/N, we’re really sorry. But we didn’t know whether it was dangerous or not. We can’t risk losing our baby sis. Dean and I are going to be careful and I promise we’ll be back soon.” “We? Dean will join us?” I asked, hopeful. There was a bit of silence before I heard Dean reply “Well, we’ll see kiddo. It’s up to Sammy.” I heard Sam protesting at the nickname. “I just want to have my brothers with me.” I said, my voice cracking a bit. “I know, sweetheart.”, said Dean in a breath. “It’s a matter of days, I promise. We’ll find that bitch’s corpse, salt and burn it. We’ll be with you in no time.” He said in a reassuring tone. I smiled a little, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “What about dad?” I finally asked. “He can’t be that far. Don’t worry.”, said Sam. “Also, I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note. I didn't have the time.”, he added. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Just promise me you’ll both be careful and come back safe.” “We promise.”, they said in unison. “And please, update me whenever you can. I love you, goofs.” I heard them laugh. “Okay. We love you too, sis. See you soon.”, said Dean. And they hung up the phone.
I fell back on the floor, half relieved and half anxious. Trouble was definitely on the way, but at least, they were okay. I just had to wait for their next call. A sudden noise made me jump. To my relief, it was Jess. “Hey, Y/N! Sorry I didn’t tell you I was going to the library. But I figured that you would forgive me if I came back with your favorite pie.”, she said while shaking a bag. I got up and hugged her. She hugged me back while laughing a little “Wow. I know you love pie but not at this point.” She didn't know how  happy I was to see her. 
 Timeskip
Fire, fire everywhere. Jess was on the ceiling, burning and bleeding. I couldn’t do anything to help her. Dean had to grab both Sam and I before fire could attain us. Her face, her cries for help, it was replaying in my mind endlessly. I would never be able to forget it. 
Dean sat me on the curb, in the midst of the chaos around us. “Y/N, are you okay?”, he asked with a concerned voice. I vaguely nodded my head, still in shock. I couldn't even cry. I threw a glance at Sam. He was devastated. He was crying hard while clinging to me as if he was afraid I would disappear. They finally both took me in their arms. I missed that. But it was sad to have to wait for such a tragedy to finally have my brothers with me. After a moment, Dean sighed and  said “ I guess you’ll have to come with us, now.” And in no time, I was on the backseat of the Impala while Dean was driving to our next destination. 
@hobby27 @deans-spinster-witch
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delulu4dean · 9 months
Text
Emergency Room
Warnings: trauma, throwing up, surgery, hospital, swearing
Parings: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader
Summary: reader gets emergency surgery, Sam and Dean make sure reader is recovering properly
Word Count: 3,517
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It was one in the morning when your screaming and sobs woke your older brothers up. They ran to your room to find you on the floor, throwing up as you clutched your stomach in pain. You’ve been feeling some abdominal pain, and figured maybe the drinking finally caught up to you, even though you didn't drink that often. It wasn’t bad pain, just mild, so you let it be. In the past few nights the pain got worse though, and you lost sleep, staying up until the pain went away. It was some temporary attack of pain, two hours every night. But you managed, so you ignored it.
It was two in the morning, your brothers holding you up in the emergency room, demanding they hurry up and take you into a room. You’ve been crying for the past hour now, unable to stop from the pain. You thought to yourself, this is it. This is when you die. The pain has been switching from dull to sharp, and as you felt a wave of sharp pain jolt through your abdomen again, you screamed.
“She needs a bed right now,” Dean’s voice boomed through the waiting room. “She needs a doctor. She’s been like this for the past hour!”
“We’re prepping a bed right now,” the nurse assured Dean. Sam leaned you onto Dean, and you clung onto your eldest brother.
“Sammy, where are you going?” Dean asked, as he held you close.
“Just getting a wheel chair.”
Only a minute later, Sam returned with a wheel chair, and your brothers sat you down. Sam started filling out paperwork, while Dean held your hand, assuring you everything will be alright.
“Dean, I don’t want to die,” you sobbed, huddled over, hugging your stomach.
“Hey, hey, you’re not going to die. How long have you been feeling like this?” Dean rubbed your back.
“For the past four months. But it wasn’t this bad.”
“You should’ve told us, kid. We could’ve gotten this sorted.”
“I didn’t want to worry you, I thought it was nothing.”
“Y/N Winchester?” a nurse called out.
It was three in the morning when you were laying in a bed, a cold gel placed on your skin. You were getting an ultrasound, after the blood work and EKG came back normal. You winced as the technician pressed down on your side. Sam and Dean were there, telling you it’s alright. But with the cold gel and the pain you felt far from alright.
It was four in the morning when you were rushed in for surgery. You had a massive blockage in your gallbladder, from gallstones. Doctor told you it’s not incredibly uncommon at your age. Less likely, but not uncommon. Luckily the gallstone hasn’t ruptured anything, or caused bad swelling, so an emergency laparoscopic surgery was possible. The last thing you saw was doctors over your head. Things got fuzzy, as your eyes got droopy.
✰✰✰✰✰
White. Your vision is white first, and as it becomes clearer, you find yourself looking at the bright fluorescent lights in the recovery room. You try to move your arms, but your body still feels heavy. The most you can do is lift your head and look around. You feel like you’re unable to speak, but you try and try until you get a nurse to come over to you.
“Your brothers went to the cafeteria, I called them to let them know you’re out of surgery. They should be here soon,” she smiles at you.
After a couple of minutes you felt like you could move but as you tried to sit up, you feel too weak to support yourself, and your stomach hurts too much.
“Hey hey, lay down, we’re here,” Dean says, walking towards you. “We’re here now, and you’re alive and okay. They said you should be able to go home by 6am.”
“The surgery was minimally invasive, so you should be better and feeling one hundred percent in two weeks,” Sam smiles at you. “You did it. The hard part is over.”
The hard part is not over.
The surgeon comes up to you and your brothers, handing a packet to Sam.
“Give her fifteen minutes, then you can take her home, we’re getting the discharge papers ready. And we prescribed oxycodone for the pain, take only as needed. And when the pain becomes more mild to moderate, switch to ibuprofen,” the doctor explains.
“What about the pain before I can get to a pharmacy?” you ask.
“I’ll get someone to get you something.” And with that, the doctor walks off.
After a minute, the nurse from before comes in, and puts something in your IV. You look at her confused.
“What are you putting in there?” Dean asks for you.
“Fentanyl, for the pain. Just a little bit.”
“You’re giving my baby sister fentanyl?” Dean’s eyes widen.
“Dean, the doctor ordered it, they know what they’re doing,” Sam sighs. “It’s not like Y/N isn’t going to be on narcotics for the next two weeks.”
“She doesn’t need all this, she’s a Winchester.”
“Dean, please,” you plead, looking up at your brother. He can’t say no to you.
“You really need it for the pain?” he asks you, softly. You only nod in response.
After a little, Sam signs your discharge papers, while Dean puts you in a wheelchair to wheel you to Baby. You sit shotgun so you can recline the seat to a comfortable position. It hasn’t hit you yet, because you’re woozy from the drugs, but you have one less organ now. Sure it’s a tiny one that only aids in digestion, but it’s gone now.
Back at the bunker, the boys help you in slowly. You insist you can walk. You should walk. Walking five minutes a few times a day following a surgery reduces risk of blood clots. But the stairs, that’s the problem. You don’t even want to attempt to walk down the stairs.
“I’m alright over here,” you quaver.
“Hey, we’ll take it slowly,” Sam promises you, his voice gentle. “Take my hand, Dean and I got you.”
You take a deep breath, nodding. Then you take the first step. And the second step. And ever so slowly, you reach the bottom of the stairs. You look back up at them and decide you’re not leaving the bunker until you feel 100% again, because no way in hell are you going to do that again like this. You let go of your brothers hands, and walk over to your room, them following close behind to make sure you’re alright.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Dean asks you.
“I just wanna sleep.” You yawn and sit down on the recliner chair you got for when you played your video games.
“Do you want me to get you anything for lunch?” Dean asks again.
“Mmm something light on the tummy. I can’t have anything fatty or greasy or with too much dairy for the next month,” you pout. But the pout is quickly replaced with a smile when you think of something to eat. “I want some veggie pho please. I’ve been craving pho, I love love love pho.”
Dean nods, and helps you recline the chair.
“But get some sleep, you and Sam have been up all night with me,” you reach out to your brother’s hand. “At least nap.”
“We’re fine, kid.”
“And I’m fine too. I’m just going to sleep.”
“Don’t you want to sleep in your bed?”
“It’s easier to get up if I need to like this. Plus I got some vomit on my sheets.”
“Okay. You sleep, I’m going to clean that up right now.”
Dean kissed your forehead, and you lay back and sleep.
✰✰✰✰✰
You open your eyes to see Sam coming in with a bag of food. He had a smile plastered across his face while Dean, who’s following right behind him, looks angry.
“Mmm, hello,” you greet them, softly.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Sam sits beside you.
“I’m feeling alright,” you answer, sitting up. You wince as you do, but it could be worse. “Why is Dean all pissy? And why are you all happy?”
“Sam decided since you have to eat all healthy now, that we all should.” Dean crosses his arms.
“Ah right. It sucks, even after I’m healed, I’m still gonna have to eat like this because my digestive tract is not used to having one less organ. I’m going to be shitting like crazy.”
“Ew come on, I already have to eat healthy, I don’t want to hear you talk about poop,” Dean grimaces.
“Most healthy food is icky, but pho is just the best. My comfort meal,” you smile.
“Do you want to eat in here? You don’t need to get up if you can’t. We can bring you a little table to eat here if you want,” Sam rambles on.
“I want to eat with you guys,” you insist, getting up from your chair slowly.
The three of you walk to the table in the kitchen and you sit down. You lean over to eat, but you groan, your abdomen too weak to support you right now.
“Hey, let me help you,” Dean says, grabbing a spoon.
You watch his hand as he dips the spoon in the bowl, and brings the spoon up to your lips. It’s a little embarrassing, being babied like this from your older brothers. But you miss being their little baby sister too. You slurp up the soup and smile at Dean. Dean takes turns between feeding you and himself, asking you every now and then if you’re okay. You nod each time.
After eating, you get up, placing a hand on your back, almost holding yourself up as you walk.
“Hey, where are you going?” Dean asks, running up to you.
“I’m just going to take a walk around the bunker,” you let him know.
“Dean, stop smothering her, if she needs us, we’re here,” Sam tells Dean. Sam is the more rational of the two, so it makes sense he’s not as worried as Dean is.
Dean, on the other hand, is extremely protective. There’s no way he’s going to let his little sister be alone, even walking around the bunker. He places his hand on your back to support you. You roll your eyes.
“Dean, I’m a big girl,” you remind him.
“I don’t care how old you, you’re my sister. And you just got surgery done. What if you fall, or half way through the walk you get tired and you can’t walk back to your room?”
You sigh and give in to your brother’s help. It’s not that you don’t like the time with him, you do. But you don’t want to be babies so much. You spend a lot of time proving to your brothers how good of a hunter you could be, and now they see you as fragile again.
After a smoothie for dinner, and a couple of more walks here and there, you are already sleepy again. Not like anyone could blame you. The surgery, and the narcotics you took right before dinner and all the walking have you feeling sleepy.
You’re standing at the foot of your bed, debating if you’ll sleep in your recliner again or if you want to give your bed a try. Ah, what the hell, there’s always tomorrow to sleep in your bed. You grab your blanket and sit in the recliner, kick back, and close your eyes. It’s not easy to actually sleep though. You’re used to rolling around, sleeping on your side, stomach, and occasionally your back. But laying on you back, without being able to roll around? Not easy.
✰✰✰✰✰
You’re on an operating table, no doctors around. You’re wide awake, but unable to move. One look down, and your stomach is cut open, your organs spilling out of the cavity in your body. You let out a scream.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Dean bursts in through the door.
Your eyes shoot open and you look around, disoriented. You don’t know where you are at first.
“Where am I? Is it done? Did I die?” you panic.
“Woah, woah, you’re home. You’re in your room. You’re alive,” Dean assures you.
You let out a little gasp of pain and hold your stomach. The medicine wore off and you must’ve been dreaming about the pain. Dean brushes his thumb over your cheek only for you to realize he’s wiping your tears away.
“Did you have a bad dream?” He crouches down in front of you, as you manage to sit up. You nod, shoulders shaking as you let the cries come out.
“It was awful, I was open on an operating table, and… fuck, my stomach hurts Dean.”
Your brother wraps his arms around your shoulders. You cry for a little, letting it all out. You and Dean don’t say a word to each other, because nothing needs to be said. He knows you don’t feel okay, and you know you’re safe with him.
“I didn’t wake Sam up too, did I?” you ask.
Dean knows better than to lie to you, so he doesn’t. “Yeah, but I told him I got it, and that I’d wake him up if it was anything serious.”
You nod in response. Dean reclines your chair for you, so you can sleep, but he doesn’t leave your side. He sits at the edge of your bed, and runs his fingers through your hair, humming. Dean was awake with you the whole time at the hospital and now he’s awake with you again.
“Dean, you need to get some sleep,” you frown.
“I’m fine right here, baby sister.”
“ ‘M not a baby,” you mumble.
Dean hushes you as he resumes humming to you.
The next time you open your eyes, it’s morning, and dean is asleep on your bed. You carefully get up from the chair, taking your time. Then you shuffle your feet across the bunker floor, all the way to the bathroom. You lower yourself onto the toilet, and pull your phone out, and spend the next fifteen minutes scrolling through twitter. You’re startled as someone knocks on the door.
“Y/n, are you alright in there?” It’s Dean.
“Yeah, I’m just trying to… ya know, poop,” you tell him. “I don’t think I can do it.”
“Do what?” he asks through the door.
“Poop! I can’t poop! It hurts too much to push the poop out! Is that what you want to hear?” you groan, getting up from the toilet, pulling your pants up. You flush and wash your hands and open the bathroom door.
“You can’t poop?” Dean asks.
“My stomach hurts too much and I feel too weak to do it. I don’t want my stomach to get all backed up. If I can’t poop in two days I need to get laxatives,” you sigh.
“We will cross that bridge when we get to it,” Dean places his hands on your shoulders. “Sammy made breakfast.”
You nod, and walk over to the kitchen with Dean following closely behind you. You sigh, feeling like your brother is being a little too protective. But hey, Dean raised you, he’s going to be protective. Dean has been raising you since your mom, another hunter, died on the job. He’ll always see you as the baby you were when John brought you home.
Sam made some vegetable omelets for the three of you to eat. While you eat your breakfast, you take out your meds and swallow a pill with the meal. Sam asks you how you’re feeling and you tell him you’re feeling better than you thought you'd be. And after the medicine kicks in, you feel a lot better.
✰✰✰✰✰
The next week is filled with nightmares, lots of them. The ones combined with sleep paralysis as soon as you woke up are the worst, because even with your eyes open, the fact your stomach hurt and you were unable to move makes you think you’re back on the operating table. You’re eating, sure. Just enough. But you’re eating a lot less than usual, because you’re scared of what eating can do to you. It was good tasting food that triggered the gallstone attack that night, and you don’t want to eat like that ever again. Last night you woke up to yourself picking at the medical glue on your stomach. Nothing was bleeding, luckily but it still grossed you out.
The mood swings following surgery aren’t great either. It’s less a side effect of the surgery itself, and more a side effect of the drugs and the sleep deprivation. The first hour on the meds are great, you feel fine. Not euphoric, but you feel good. And then the good wears off and you feel like shit. So five days ago you decided to get off the narcotics. No pain is worth a drug dependency like this. Switching to the strong dosage of ibuprofen they’ve prescribed to you doesn’t sound too bad.
A week since surgery, and you’re up and walking almost like normal. Stairs aren’t too bad. Every fifteen minutes of walking you’re a little out of breath, but definitely better than you were a week ago. You just can’t wait for Jack and Castiel to come back, they can heal you. They’re off in heaven worrying about angel business. Of course you know if you prayed to them, they’d come back in a heartbeat. But you don’t want that. Especially from Cas. Cas has always been so selfless with you and your brothers, it doesn’t seem fair. But your face lights up, as you see the two walk into the bunker. They’re back.
“Cas! Jack!” you cheer.
“Hey, y/n!” Jack runs down the steps and runs up to hug you.
“Ow, shit,” you since in pain.
“What’s wrong,” Cas looks at you as he comes down the steps.
“I got my gallbladder removed,” you explain, lifting your shirt to expose your tummy.
“You should’ve told us. Just one prayer and we could’ve been here for you,” Jack frowns.
“You’re here now, that’s all that matters. It was minimally invasive, two week recovery until I’m basically one hundred percent, it’s not a big deal, Jack.”
“If you can, heal her,” Dean begs as he walks in. “She has not slept in her bed since she got back. I’ve been sleeping in her room to make sure she’s okay.”
“And I am okay, physically I’m fine!”
“Y/n, just let me heal you,” Jack pleads.
“Fine, I guess it would be nice to sleep in my bed,” you say.
Jack heals you, and you pick the glue off your stomach.
“Sweet, no scars!” You smile softly.
“How are you feeling, mentally?” Dean asks you.
“Mentally, I’m fine,” you insist.
“You’re not fine. You’re sleep deprived. Don’t think I haven’t caught on, I’ve been sleeping in your room with you. You’ve been having nightmares, you’re barely eating, you’re stressed, and a lot more quiet than you used to be. And like a Winchester, you’re keeping it all to yourself.”
“Dean-“
“Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to push it. But I’m here when you do feel like you can talk about it,” Dean says.
✰✰✰✰✰
Jack and you are sat on your bed. You should be sleeping, but you haven’t slept in your bed in a week and it feels weird now. Jack is close to your age… sort of… physically close to your age, it’s why you two are close friends.
“What was Dean talking about?” Jack asks you.
“Ah, knew you’d bring it up eventually. I’ve been having nightmares, about the surgery. It’s weird, it was so minor, but the pain before the surgery, I thought I was going to die. And waking up after surgery is so weird. It felt like sleep paralysis, which I’ve had during the past week as well. And taking narcotics then having to stop them because they felt a little too good wasn’t great. I just- I don’t know. I feel like I’m overreacting, I’m fine now. Especially thanks to you.”
It felt good to let it all out and talk to someone about it.
“Does Dean know?” Jack asks.
“Of course Dean knows, I don’t have to tell him, he knows. I don’t know if Sam caught on. Sam has been in charge of making sure I eat, he’s been making food that doesn't upset my stomach. And taking me on morning walks.”
“Your brothers love you a lot,” Jack says.
“Yeah. I got to admit, the attention was nice. Except with Dean following me almost everywhere. I mean like waiting outside while I showered in case I slipped,” you chuckle.
“You’ll feel like your old self again soon,” Jack assures you. “I can stay until you fall asleep if you want. Or even all night, in case you have another nightmare.”
“Thanks Jack.”
You turn off the light, lay down, and close your eyes.
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darknqlmes · 7 months
Text
Why didn't you tell us?
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PARING: Dean Winchester/Sister!Reader/Sam Winchester
WARNINGS: Language, Blood, Past Abuse, Threats To Kill Someone!
SUMMARY: Y/N Winchester is the oldest out of Dean and Sam, so that means she took all of the abuse. When she heard about John's death, she was happy that she was free. But what happens when she gets home to the bunker and sees someone that she never wanted to see again?
(Also, I'm going to change the story line where Mary left John and Y/N was left to take care of Sam and Dean.)
Y/N, just got in the bunker after a vampire hunt. walking down the stairs when she heard muffled talking. She stopped and listened, but she couldn't make out the voices, so she went the rest of the way down the stairs, and when she looked, she went pale.
"John." Y/N said it coldly and with a bitter voice. John, Sam, and Dean all looked at Y/N and took in her appearance. She had blood all over her and had her duffel bag over her shoulder; she looked like she had seen a ghost; her hair was matted down and messy; even with it in a messy ponytail, she looked like a mess.
"Y/N, honey, how are you?" John asked, "Sam, Dean, what is John doing here?" Y/n asked with a bitter, cold tone, not even looking at them as she asked her question, "Y/n h-." "Boys, get the keys to Baby and drive to a bar or something. I want to talk to John alone.
"Y/N cut Dean off Sam, and Dean looked at each other and just headed towards their rooms like they were little kids that just got punished. "Why are you here? Why, after everything you put me through?" "I wanted to apologize." Y/N chuckled bitterly.
"Apologies? Well, it's a little too late for that, John. You abused me! my whole childhood, and I allowed it because I was scared of you hurting the boys! Oh, and let's not forget about the many times you raped me! All because Mary FUCKING LEFT!" "I did that because you didn't listen to me! So I thought that was the best way for you to listen." "I WAS A KID! A FUCKING KID, John! I WASN'T LISTENING BECAUSE I WAS SO YOUNG! I was nine. Nine, and taking care of you. Taking care of all of us. I was in fourth grade, dragging your ass out of the yard. So you wouldn't freeze to death. I stayed up all night with Sam and Dean when they had chicken pocks. I washed Sam's and Dean's shitty diapers. I picked lice out of Dean and Sam's hair. And I was here when Sam and Dean got their first heartbreak—not Mary, but me." What John and I didn't know was that Sam and Dean were hiding behind the wall, listening to us.
"And never you; you were too fucking loaded." I had tears in my eyes, and John just looked ashamed. "Just get out, John. I've had enough of you're shit." "No." I turn around, looking at John with a death glare.
"What the fuck did you just say?" "I said no, Y/N." I chuckled, "GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I KILL YOU, John Winchester!" This time he listened and started walking to the stairs, which I followed.
"Oh, and John." He turned around and looked at me. "If I ever, and I mean ever, see you anywhere near this damn Bunker or near Sam and Dean, I will make you beg for death. Understand?" John nodded his head with fear in his eyes. Then he ran up the stairs and out the door.
I just sighed and went into the library with my hands on the table. I let out a sob, but quickly covered my mouth with my hand. But then I heard a rustle, like someone was moving. I knew that. It was Sam and Dean. "Guys, you can come out. What are we? Five?" I asked with sarcasm in my voice.
They come out and rush to my side. When they saw that I was collapsing to the ground, they caught me just before my knees could touch the ground. while I was sobbing loudly. They started whispering in my ear that everything would be okay. But I knew nothing would be okay.
"Why didn't you tell us, Y/N?" Sam asked, "Because you guys shouldn't have to know what I go through." They just hugged me for the rest of the night. We ate snacks and watched movies. While we all cuddled.
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ellieslittleburrow · 2 months
Text
Siblings
Summary : You live near campus, away from Dean and Sam. You haven't seen them in a while. How do you react when you find them right at your door?
Pairings : Dean and Sam winchester x sister
Warnings : nooone, just fluff.
A/N : Hi, babies ❣❣ I hope this is as refreshing to you as it was for me.
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Oil sizzled as you set the stove on the lowest heat. You tossed the chopped up onions into the pan, filling the room with the familiar aroma.
The house phone rang. And you moved the pan aside before heading for the phone. You pressed a button, setting the phone near your ear when a familiar hum sounded.
Oh my god!
"Dean!" You excitedly shouted, earning yourself an "ouch" over the other line. You pressed a another button, opening the complex door for him and since you were only in the third floor, it only took him a quick minute to appear, followed by Sam.
"Hii" You opened your arms, running to embrace both of them. "What a surprise."
"Hey, kiddo." Dean tightly wrapped his arms around you, letting you go when Sam spoke.
"Hey, honey." Sam pulled you into a hug.
"I missed you both so much." Your voice vibrated into Sam's chest. "What are you doing here?"
"Eating, apparently." As Dean's voice went distant, you pulled away from Sam, spinning around to find Dean marching towards the kitchen.
You let out a little chuckle, following behind.
-----
After setting the plates and beers on the table, you plumped down on the couch, waiting for your brothers to join. And as all three of you started eating, an hour and a half of talks about life, uni, cases and john flowed seamlessly.
"So..." Dean coughed. "Anybody in your life....kid?"
You rolled your eyes at Dean's sudden change of voice. You knew this one, a low tone, manipulative and curious. You're not falling for it.
"Nobody, Dean." You smiled at him, not caring that he already knew you were lying.
"Are you sure about that? Because i'm pretty sure you don't wear size 12 flip floppers." He eyed the entry door and you snorted a laugh. Fucking hell..This guy's eyes..
"Leave her alone, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes before turning to you. "As long as you're happy, honey."
You smiled at his response....your eyes darting around the room when silence set in...
"Alright....Time to head out, Dean." Sam slapped his thighs, readying himself to get up when you pushed him back down.
"No!"
"We have to go, honey. We still have 5 hours to go before we get there." Sam argues and you shook your head.
"Please don't....it's only been an hour." You pleaded, looking over at Dean, who, to your surprise, was staring at you with pleading eyes.
He did not want to go either.
"Come on, Sammy. It's-" you spun around to get a look at the clock. "It's 6pm, don't you wanna get some sleep and head back for the road tomorrow morning?."
Sam grimaced. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey. I really do want to stay, but we could always stay over on our way ba-."
You turned to Dean, leaving Sam hanging. But Dean was already laid back, quiet, waiting for you to do all the dirty work. That's when Sam spoke again.
"Okay, how about this" He started, and your eyes grew wide, anticipating what's about to happen.
Sam straightened his back as he held his arms out, positioning one hand on top of the other, his right fist resting on top of his left palm. And as Dean understood the assignment, he got up, mirroring sam.
And in silence you watched, as for the very first time, Sam laid a rock, losing the fight as early as the first round.
You burst into laughter as Sam's eyebrows arose. Nobody expected that. And as you lifted your arms up, jumping in pure ecstasy, Dean grinned triumphantly.
"I won."
You nodded. "And you spend the night here."
Sam smacked his hands together. "Alright, then. Let's prep for a night in."
----
And we're done! If yall can spare a minute and tell me about my writiing pleaase? if i should change it up, if it's too repetitive and stuff. No pressure and thanks in advance ❣ 🖤🖤🥀🥀
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 16 days
Text
Useless
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Demon Dean & little sister!reader
Requested by @abiball027
Synopsis: Dean does some things as a demon that everyone regrets.
Warnings: demon blood addiction, demon Dean gets the reader addicted to demon blood, kidnapping, this one’s kinda dark guys, angst with a happy ending.
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Your body was on autopilot as it led you through the bunker. You didn’t even realize you were headed to Dean’s room until you stopped in front of his door, unable to go further. Your hand twitched towards the knob, but you stopped yourself from reaching out to grab it.
There was nothing in there you wanted to see. You didn’t want to look at Dean’s body again; you couldn’t.
You staggered in surprise when the door flung open. Dean’s frame filled the doorway, and it was all you could do to stay upright.
“De…what…” you caught sight of Crowley in the room behind him, and you directed your next words at the king of hell. “You—did you bring him back?”
You didn’t want to wait for an answer; in fact, you were a split second away from throwing yourself at your big brother when Crowley stepped between you.
“I wouldn’t do that; he’s still adjusting.”
“Adjusting? Crowley, what did you do?” You demanded, before shaking your head. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell Sam.” You turned to go, but Dean’s hand shot out at an inhuman speed, and he held your arm in a vice grip.
“What—Dean?” You looked up in surprise at your big brother.
“No Sam,” he demanded, but his eyes seemed unfocused. That is, until he blinked and they flashed black. You wrestled your arm from him and stepped back, your hand going to the demon knife at your belt. You pulled it out, directing it at Crowley.
“You…” your voice shook with anger, and you nearly choked on it. “You let one of your filthy demons possess my brother?”
“Not exactly.” Crowley shrugged.
“What—“
Dean interrupted you.
“It’s all me, sweetheart.”
“That’s not possible.” You shook your head. “It can’t be.”
“Oh it’s Dean alright,” Crowley said. “Because of the Mark of Cain, he can’t be killed. I merely brought his soul out of its little…hibernation. Or, chrysalis, I suppose is a better analogy. And now he’s evolved into…well, this.”
Dean and Crowley’s matching grins turned your stomach.
“W-we…” you swallowed, trying to let your mind catch up with your racing heart. “We can fix this. We know how-how to cure demons. I can get Sam and we—“
“No!” Dean’s sudden tone change made you flinch. “I don’t want to be cured, and you’re not going to get Sam.”
“I-I don’t understand.” you shivered.
“No. You wouldn’t.” Dean chuckled darkly. “You wouldn’t understand power.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. You’ve always been the weak one, so you wouldn’t understand what having power feels like.” Dean’s eyes flashed black again, and you flinched. “Well I’ve got power now, and I like how it feels.”
“Stop it.” You shook your head, turning to Crowley. “Dean wouldn’t say this stuff. What did you do to him?” You yelped in surprise when Dean’s hands once again grabbed your arms.
“It’s all me, N/N. The new me. The better me.”
You tried to break free from Dean’s grip, but he wouldn’t let go. Crowley stepped forwards, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder.
“We should get out of here while Moose is still gone.”
“You’re right.” Dean didn’t release his grip on your arm. “But I’m bringing her with.”
“What?” You and Crowley asked in horrified unison.
“Dean, you agreed to leave it all behind. You said you didn’t want—“
“I said I didn’t want Sam stopping me,” Dean interrupted Crowley. “She’s not strong enough to do anything to me.” Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Dean continued. “But, with a little help, she could be useful.”
“Help?” Crowley frowned. “How could she do anything for us?”
“She can…” Dean’s eyes flashed black—it seemed to be his new favorite trick. “If I give her a taste of power.” Dean shoved you towards Crowley. “Hold her still.”
Crowley took hold of your arms without question, although he was clearly hesitant.
Dean took the demon knife out of your hands easily, and he sliced a small cut on the heel of his hand.
“What are you—“
Dean took advantage of your mouth being open by pressing the heel of his hand to your lips. You froze up as Dean’s other hand came up to plug your nose.
He’d completely cut off your air, and you struggled as the metallic taste of Dean’s blood invaded your mouth. He and Crowley easily held you still, and Dean kept his hand there for several seconds before moving it so that his palm was covering your mouth. No more blood was going in, but you still couldn’t breathe.
“Swallow and I’ll let you go,” Dean said. You continued to struggle, but it was useless. “C’mon little sister, just swallow.”
You struggled until you felt dizzy and your lungs were screaming. You swallowed almost without meaning to, the bitter taste of Dean’s blood invading your senses. Dean and Crowley released you simultaneously.
You backed away from both men, stumbling against the wall as you gasped for breath. You didn’t even know what to say; you were too confused, too hurt, too scared.
“What was that?” Crowley asked, sounding as confused as you felt.
“Like I told you,” Dean growled. “With a little power, this little rugrat might be useful. And since I’m the one controlling the power…” Dean waved a hand over his cut wrist, and it healed itself. “I’m the one who she has to listen to. The perfect little sidekick.”
You didn’t need to hear anything more. You turned on your heel and tried to run, but Dean grabbed onto your arms and flung you against the wall. The back of your head hit the wall, and suddenly you couldn’t see or feel anything.
You awoke to the gentle purr of the Impala, and for a long moment you couldn’t tell what was going on. Were you on a hunt? You couldn’t remember. Then you tried to move your hands to rub your face, and they stopped, impeded by something metal. Your eyes fluttered open, and the first thing you saw was your hands cuffed to the back of Dean’s seat. Crowley was in the passenger seat, and the memories came back almost instantly.
“She’s awake,” Crowley said.
“Ahh, good morning sweetheart,” Dean grinned, a sickeningly sinister smirk that looked nothing like your big brother.
“Where are we? Where are we going?” You looked out the windows, but the road sides were no help to your poor sense of direction.
Dean just chuckled.
“Wherever we want.”
The three of you drove all day, and once the sun lowered behind the horizon line, Dean pulled into a seedy motel. He opened his door and came around to your door. He didn’t unlock your cuffs; instead, he pulled a flask from his back pocket and unscrewed it, bringing it up to your mouth. You knew it was his blood before the liquid touched your lips, but again your struggles were futile as Dean held his hands over your mouth and nose until you swallowed.
“See, that’s not so bad,” Dean cooed even as you shuddered. “A few more of these and you’ll be so hooked, you’ll be begging me for another hit.”
Crowley watched with an unreadable expression as Dean freed your wrists from the handcuffs and led you inside the motel. Within minutes, Dean had you cuffed to the air conditioner in his room, and he and Crowley were off to party at the nearest bar. You tried to wiggle around to reach into your pocket, only to discover that Dean must’ve taken your phone and lock picking kit while you were knocked out. With nothing to focus on, you became acutely aware of the hunger pangs that were becoming more frequent: you hadn’t eaten since you’d been in the bunker. But soon, a different hunger took hold of you. It was unfamiliar, and it hurt worse than normal hunger. Fear began to nag at you, but you shook it off. You couldn’t be hooked on demon blood already, could you?
You couldn’t be sure, and that only flamed your panic. This whole situation was crazy, and you didn’t know how to adjust; Dean, a demon; you, kidnapped; and demon blood being fed to you no matter how much you tried to resist. Your mind played around with the idea that it wasn’t really Dean—that Crowley had lied and it really was some random demon inside your brother’s corpse—but you knew that Crowley, as devious as he was, had no reason to lie.
And that meant that it really was your big brother, trying to turn you into a demon blood addict just so that he could use you.
“We’re back!” Dean crowed triumphantly, snapping you out of your thoughts as he entered the motel with Crowley at his heels. A fast food bag was tossed into your lap, and Dean reached over your head and released you from the handcuffs. You chowed down on the burger without hesitation—you were too hungry to be ornery—noting in the back of your mind that Dean had remembered exactly how you liked your food; maybe he was still in there somewhere.
To your dismay, the food could only satisfy so much, and that unfamiliar pain lingered. You felt your eyes unintentionally slipping towards Dean’s flask, and unfortunately Dean noticed too. A wide grin split his face as he looked from you to his flask.
“Knew it wouldn’t take much to have you hooked,” he said, and when you started to shake your head in a panic his gaze softened—if only slightly. “Hey now,” he soothed, coming to sit by you and pulling out his flask. “It hurts, right?” At your hesitant nod, he continued. “I know it does. Now let your big brother take the pain away, ok?”
His tone was so familiar, and yet so unfamiliar at the same time. Soothing words that Dean might say to you before stitching up a wound—but that was not what was happening now. Dean’s voice was gentle, but his eyes held a dead indifference that had never been directed at you, not from Dean. Everything felt so wrong, and you were so overwhelmed and hurting that you could do nothing but cry softly as Dean lifted the flask to your lips and forced the liquid down your throat. He didn’t even bother to plug your nose, as you were too tired to fight him—you swallowed with no protest other than the tears tracking down your cheeks.
White hot shame filled you along with the demon blood. You had more fight in you than this, you knew you did. But this was different.
You’d never expected to be fighting against your brother, and that thought alone drained all of the fight in you.
“There it is.” Dean’s smirk turned your stomach, and you were already starting to regret eating that burger. “See? Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You tried to turn away from him, but he grabbed onto your shoulder.
“C’mon, I’m gonna cuff you near the couch so you can get some sleep.”
Dean cuffed your hands to the nightstand next to the couch. You could lay on the couch with your arms stretched over your head; it was uncomfortable, but better than the floor you supposed.
To your surprise, you fell asleep quickly, drained from the long day on edge. But it was a fitful sleep, and some time in the middle of the night you awoke panting. It took you a moment to realize what was different; you weren’t handcuffed anymore. You looked down in your lap to see the cuffs in three pieces. You stared down at your hands; had you done that?
A groan from one of the beds had you flinching as Dean sat up. His eyes found you in the dark, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the black abyss that used to be your brothers bright green eyes. Then he blinked, and the green was there, but it wasn’t the same.
“Go back to sleep,” he demanded, and you were laying back down when he suddenly got up. You felt your body shaking as Dean approached you; you’d never been more scared of anyone than you were of Dean right now.
“Seems the demon blood is working,” Dean chuckled as he held up the broken cuffs. His eyes flickered to you. “How does power feel, little sister?”
You didn’t know how to answer that question. You didn’t feel powerful. Sure, you could break steel without even meaning to, but you had no power over your situation; if anything you felt more helpless than you ever had.
Unless…
Remembering Sam’s powers when he’d been drinking demon blood, you pushed your hand out in front of you. Before you even made contact with Dean, he staggered back and fell—you had telekinesis!
You jumped up from the couch and ran for the door. It had the door-block on it, but it tore loose when you yanked the door open. You took one stride out into the night air before strong arms wrapped around your midsection and flung you backwards, back into the motel room.
“Your powerful, little sister,” Dean chuckled darkly. “But not more powerful than me.”
You backed away, not even looking where you were going as you tried to escape your approaching brother. Your foot caught on the desk, and you went down hard, but you kept backing away, using your hands to scoot back. It didn’t do much, and when Dean reached you he gripped your shoulder and dragged you to your feet. He shoved you back down onto the couch, and turned and walked out the door without another word. You sat there in confusion until Dean returned—presumably from the Impala—with thick chains in his hands.
“This should hold you for a bit longer.” He smirked. “At least until I can get you so addicted to blood that you won’t leave.”
“That’s not going to happen,” you insisted.
Dean just laughed.
The pain was all consuming; you could think of nothing else. You were hungry, too, and thirsty, and your back ached from sleeping on the couch; but none of that mattered. All you could think about was blood.
You found yourself suddenly much more sympathetic towards Sam; sure, you’d felt bad for him—you knew his addiction had hurt like crazy—but you’d never felt it before. It was a new kind of pain in a world where you thought you’d experienced every kind.
What made it hurt worse was knowing that it was your big brother inflicting this pain, and not to get you un-hooked on demon blood; he was doing it to teach you some kind of sick lesson. Or maybe he thought it would get you even more addicted; if so, it was working.
After your little stunt trying to run away, Dean had chained you up to the wall, gagged you, and left with Crowley. That was yesterday; he hadn’t returned, even when night came and went. He knew the withdrawal pains would hit you like a truck; you figured that was the point.
What if it wasn’t a lesson? What if he was just sick of dragging you around, and he left you there? His words wouldn’t stop echoing in your head…
“You’ve always been the weak one…”
You’d always felt that way, but to hear Dean—even a black-eyed Dean—say it out loud hurt more than you wanted to admit.
And the fact that, even with demon blood in you, you couldn’t break out of the chains Dean put on you seemed to aid his description of you.
Were you really so pathetic that you were only useful when pumped full of demon blood?
“Hiya sweetheart, did you miss me?”
You’d been so lost that you didn’t even notice Dean enter the hotel room until he was right in front of you, unlocking your cuffs and pulling the gag down. When he was done, you felt your hands grip onto his arm of their own accord, and your eyes found his pleadingly. You wanted to pretend you didn’t know what you were pleading for—food, maybe? Water? But you and Dean knew all too well.
“You did miss me,” Dean said with a grin. “Is this what you want?” Dean held up a fast food bag. You hadn’t eaten in a day, you should have wanted it.
But you didn’t even look at it.
“No?” Dean put the bag down and picked up a water bottle. “How about this? Not this either?”
“Dean…” you mumbled, your eyes slipping down to your hands. “It…it hurts, Dean.”
“Aww.” Dean chuckled. You knew he was patronizing you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted him to make the pain go away.
“What about this?” Your eyes lifted to see Dean pulling out his flask. You saw a hand reach out for it, surprised when you realized it was your own. Dean wouldn’t let you touch it, though. He pulled it out of reach, shaking his head. “Don’t touch, sweetheart. That’s my job.”
You didn’t move as Dean opened the flask and lifted it to your face. You wished you could pretend that he was forcing you to drink the blood, but it wasn’t true anymore. He really had gotten you hooked.
The only question now was what would Sammy do when he found you?
The next few weeks fell into a regime. You tagged along while Dean and Crowley dragged you to town after town, bar after bar, motel after motel. After the first week, Dean stopped using the chains; he didn’t need them anymore. The resourceful, smart Winchester in the back of your mind knew that he was training you like a dog—when you listened, he let you drink from his flask; when you disobeyed, he let you suffer—but there was nothing you could do. You couldn’t resist the demon blood anymore, it hurt too much. And a part of you—the part desperate to please your big brother—didn’t want to. Dean thought you were useless without powers, and you didn’t have it in you to disagree anymore. The only reason Dean even wanted you around was that you had powers. Without that…
You were snapped out of your thoughts when Crowley approached you and Dean.
“We need to talk,” he said to Dean.
“So talk,” Dean said with a shrug. “She won’t bother us.” Dean waved offhandedly at you.
That’s all you were now; the sidekick, the tool, meant to stand aside and keep quiet.
“I don’t think you want her to hear this.” When Dean didn’t respond, Crowley sighed and continued. “Moose called.”
You stiffened, and Dean noticed.
“Go take a walk, N/N,” Dean said. You didn’t argue—you’d given up on that—but you did hesitate. Dean blinked, his eyes flashing black, and you flinched. “I said take a walk.”
You left without another word, but your brain was going a million miles a minute.
Sam called? Was he coming? Would he fix Dean…and you?
You returned to Dean when he waved you over.
Like an obedient little puppy, you thought disgustedly. You thought you’d given up on your pride and your dignity weeks ago, but the thought of Sam returning to see you like this brought it all rushing back.
“Here.” Dean pulled out his flask when you approached him. You stiffened and you had to force your head to turn away from your big brother. Dean scoffed, “One mention of Sammy and now you’re all high and mighty?” Dean’s fingers clenched around your jaw, and he turned your chin to face him. “Let me make this clear; drink now, or I won’t let you for the next two days.”
Your breath caught in your throat; the most he’d ever cut you off was for about a day, and that had been one of the most painful days of your life. You couldn’t do it, you knew you couldn’t.
Dean let go of your face, and you tilted your head up slightly, your lips parting just a little. It was all the assent that Dean needed.
“That’s what I thought,” he huffed, uncapping his flask.
What had you gotten yourself into?
You’d been getting better and better with your powers. Dean had had you practicing, mostly on random demons that Crowley let get too close to him.
The better you got, the more you began to think that Dean was right; you had been useless before, never able to help your brothers. Now you could help—now you had power.
Every time you got better with your powers, Dean would flash you a wide grin—it was cocky, not at all like his old proud smile—but it was good to see nonetheless. It felt good to do something for your big brother. It felt like you were finally repaying him for everything he had done for you.
“Pick a side!”
You were snapped out of your thoughts by Crowley’s outburst. You had followed Dean into Crowley’s demon meeting after Dean murdered one of Crowley’s clients. After weeks around Crowley, you tended to tune him out, but now he seemed heated, and Dean was tense beside you.
“Or what?” Dean asked before shoving a Crowley across the floor. Crowley got up in a huff, glancing around as if to see if his demons had noticed—of course they had.
“This—“ Crowley gestured between himself and Dean “—is over. You’re too unpredictable.”
“Ok,” Dean said, a nonchalant smile gracing his lips. “How’s this for unpredictable?” And suddenly he was looking at you, eyes boring into you as if you could read his mind. To your surprise, you could; or at least, you knew what he wanted. He wanted to piss Crowley off—he wanted you to exorcise all of Crowley’s goons. You’d only ever exorcised one at a time, which was a far cry from the five that surrounded you now.
Still, your big brother wanted something from you, and you were going to do your best.
You closed your eyes in concentration, holding your hand out as almost an anchor. You could feel the power pulsing through your blood, as if the demon blood was intertwining with your own. You heard screams of pain from the demons, but you blocked them out, hyper-focused. When the screaming stopped, you opened your eyes to see five empty vessels strewn across the floor. Your attention turned to Crowley, your hand still outstretched.
He staggered back a half step, but Dean reached out and pushed your hand down.
“Hey, easy—not him sweetheart.”
Your attention turned to Dean at his words, and there it was; that proud grin. Your lips twitched up even as you thought that you missed the way the old Dean would let you know he was proud of you. The way that he’d smile a real smile, and ruffle your hair, and say, “Good job, kid.”
Instead, this Dean smirked and pulled his flask out of his back pocket, holding it for you to drink from even as he turned his attention back to Crowley.
“You want unpredictable? You want this to be over? Good; I don’t need you, I never did.” Dean capped his flask and turned to go.
He didn’t even look back to see if you would follow; he knew you would.
You sat on a stool beside a piano in an empty bar, watching Dean play around with the keys. It had been hours since he’d let you have a drink, but every time you tapped his arm he just snapped at you to leave him be. You were doing just that—sitting quietly and watching your big brother—when the door to the bar opened.
“Sam!” You jumped up before you’d even fully registered that it was Sam who’d walked in the door. When you started towards him, Dean’s voice stopped you.
“No.”
It was just the one word, but it was enough. Your body acted almost if its own accord, stopping the instant the word was out of Dean’s mouth. You’d gotten used to obeying him without question lately, and it was a habit you weren’t so sure you could break.
“Commere,” Dean said, and again you listened, going to stand beside him as he stood from the piano bench.
Your eyes drifted to Sam, who was looking from Dean to you in utter confusion.
“Good.” Dean’s voice brought your attention back to him, and you saw him reaching into his back pocket for his flask. Your stomach dropped to your toes; that was why he wouldn’t let you drink earlier. He suspected that Sam was coming, and he wanted you to be desperate enough to drink in front of him. Your heart caught in your throat as you stared up at Dean, as if he could somehow undo what he’d already done. He just smirked at you as he uncapped the flask and held it up.
Your body was screaming for it—you’d been achy, pain stiffening your muscles for at least an hour—you needed it. Keeping your eyes downcast so that you didn’t have to see Sam’s face, you took a half step closer to Dean and let him tilt the contents of the flask into your mouth.
“What are you doing?” Sam lurched forward, recognizing the substance immediately. “Dean, you can’t! Y/N, stop!”
“Aww, it’s not her fault, Sammy,” Dean chuckled as he pulled the flask away and capped it. “She was never gonna be strong enough to stop me.”
You ducked your head in shame even as your nerves were screaming for more blood. You couldn’t bear to even look in Sam’s direction.
“Dean, what did you do?” Sam demanded, panic lacing his tone.
“Made her useful!” Dean insisted, still grinning like this was all a great joke. “You should see her now, Sammy. She exorcised five demons all at once today, I bet she’s pretty tired out.”
Despite yourself, your lips twitched up in a small smile at Dean’s words. He was bragging on you to Sam—it was nice to hear.
“Useful?” Sam’s scoff brought the shame back. “Dean, she’s not an object! She’s not some kind of tool for you to use! She’s our sister!”
“So what? She was useless before, a weak and pathetic tag-along. I finally brought some purpose to her life.”
You bit down hard on your lip to keep it from quivering. You kept your gaze down so you didn’t have to see either of your brothers.
“Dean, stop it!” Sam yelled.
“Fine.” Dean shrugged. “You want me to stop? Try and bring her back. She won’t go, I’ve got her hooked more than you ever were.”
Dean stepped back, watching from the other side of the piano while Sam approached you. You kept your eyes on your shoes even as you heard Sam approaching.
“Honey, hey, look at me.” Sam came to a stop mere inches from you. Your breaths picked up as tears blurred your vision, but you forced yourself to blink them back and look up at your brother. The hate that you were expecting wasn’t there, neither was the disgust or the anger. Instead, Sam’s eyes were gentle; understanding. “I can help you. You don’t have to keep doing this.”
“But…” Dean’s words swam around in your head, and they were all you could think of. “But without this I’m useless. I wanna be useful. I’m useful, Sammy, I’m powerful!”
Sam’s gaze never wavered.
“But are you happy?”
You stopped. You’d been so worried about being useful to Dean, that you hadn’t even thought about…
Your head shook slowly from side to side, the tears returning. Sam’s gaze softened even more.
“Oh, sweetheart…”
“I’m…I’m sorry, Sam,” you whimpered, finally letting the tears fall. “I-I didn’t mean to—but I can’t st-stop.” You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed, and you flinched when you felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder.
“Shh, hey…” Sam pulled you into his embrace, and you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head as he rubbed your back. “Honey it’s ok. We can fix this, I just gotta take you home.”
“She’s not gonna leave me, Sammy,” Dean mocked. “I’ve got her hooked.”
“You’re coming too,” Sam directed at him. “I didn’t just come for her. We can cure demons, Dean.”
“Did you even stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn’t have left? And I certainly wouldn’t have gotten our little sister addicted to demon blood just to cut off her supply.” Dean jeered, laughing. “I mean, what kind of brother would do that?”
“Enough, Dean! I’m bringing you back whether you want to come or not.” Sam reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of demon cuffs.
“Do you really think those will hold me?” Dean scoffed.
“We’re about to find out,” Sam sighed.
A hiss filled the air, followed by smoke that separated both of your brothers from your sight.
“Sam! Dean!” Your cries were followed by a fit of coughing when you breathed in the gas. A hand on your shoulder turned your attention to Dean, who was trying to drag you towards the door.
“Sammy,” you protested, searching through the gas for your brother.
“He’s fine,” Dean growled, pulling harder. “Now come on.”
“No!” You yanked your arm from Dean’s grasp. He didn’t try to grab you again; he didn’t think he had to.
“Y/N, come. That’s an order.”
You gritted your teeth, shoving down the pain in your body that begged you to listen to Dean.
“Screw your orders.”
Dean’s eyes flashed black as he advanced on you.
“You little—“
You didn’t hesitate—you lifted your hands and used the telekinesis that Dean had given you to fling him across the room. You turned your back, not even bothering to see where he landed.
You found Sam easily, and the two of you made it out of the building after Dean. The minute Sam stepped foot out the door, a man came out of nowhere and knocked him out.
“Sam!” You knelt next to your big brother, glancing in fear at the man who’d hit him. He hesitated when he saw you were just a kid.
“Stay out of my way, or you’re next,” he warned before turning to face Dean. You remembered Dean mentioning that a man was after him; you had no doubt that Dean would win this fight, so you turned your attention to waking Sam up—he was your only chance at bringing Dean home.
“Sammy, come on,” you urged. He only stirred once Dean and the other man were finished their fight—Dean won, but he didn’t kill the other man, to your surprise.
“Just stay here,” Sam instructed, shaking off his headache as he stood, demon cuffs held with his injured arm—you wondered suddenly how he’d been hurt—and holy water in the other hand.
You stayed back as Sam approached Dean from behind. It was over in mere seconds—Dean, distracted by the holy water, was unable to fight off the cuffs that Sam slapped on him.
“Dean, stop! It’s over.”
You got into the passenger’s seat after Sam ushered Dean into the back. Sam was outside, passing off the First Blade to Crowley.
“You picked the wrong side,” Dean said, and the sound of his voice made you flinch.
“Says the one in the handcuffs,” you shot back, but your voice was much too shaky for Dean to take seriously.
“Oh, this won’t last,” Dean said, lifting his hands. “And once these come off, you’re going to regret using those powers on me.”
You breathed easier when Sam returned to the Impala, and the three of you were off. Sam and Dean were arguing about Dean’s fight with that man, Cole. Sam was convinced that because Dean let him live, there was still some good in him.
“Letting him live was the worst thing I could’ve done to him,” Dean chuckled. “And that’s nothing compared to what I’m going to you.” Sam swallowed nervously, but Dean continued. “Or to our little sister.” You nearly jumped out of your seat when Dean kicked it.
“Stop it,” Sam demanded. “She…she didn’t do anything.”
“Oh, she picked her side,” Dean insisted. “And she picked wrong.”
You were shaking by the time the Impala reached the bunker. Sam kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, recognizing the symptoms; you needed more blood.
“Stay here,” he instructed as he stepped out to get Dean. “I’m gonna get him settled downstairs and I’ll come back for you.”
Sure enough, a few minutes later Sam returned and led you to your room.
“You know what I have to do, right?” He asked gently. You nodded.
“Tie me down and lock me up, right?”
“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “I don’t want to, but—“
“But there’s a demon in the bunker, and I’m about to go through extreme withdrawals,” you finished. “I-I know Sam. It’s not your fault.” Your gaze was glued to your fidgeting hands.
“Hey, look at me.” When you met his gaze, Sam continued. “It’s not your fault either. I know you didn’t want it.”
“I started to.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Af-after a while, I started to want it. The power…all of it.”
“It’s ok.” Sam pulled you close, and his embrace made you feel more at home than you had in weeks. “I know how that feels, but we’re gonna fix it. I’m gonna be right here.”
When he pulled away, you took a deep breath.
“I’m ready.”
You were wrong. Dead wrong, and so was Sam. Sam was killing you, you were sure of it.
Of course, that was the withdrawal talking, but you were too far deep in your pain to know that. All you knew was that you’d never hurt this much in your life, and the way to make the pain go away was right downstairs, but Sam wouldn’t let you near it.
“I need Dean,” you cried for the thousandth time. “Sammy, please!” You were in too much pain to even notice that Sam wasn’t there, and he hadn’t been in to check on you in a while. In fact, you were so distracted that you didn’t even notice the door opening, and the very person you were begging for walking in.
“I told you you picked the wrong side,” Dean chuckled, his voice grabbing your attention.
“Dean,” you whimpered, in too much pain to be scared or curious that he’d gotten out. “Dean, please.”
“You know—“ Dean sighed as he began to undo the straps holding your legs. “You talk too much.” Once both your legs were free, Dean made his way near your head. You swallowed hard as Dean picked up a knife that you’d left on your dresser. “So I think I’ve found the perfect punishment for you. I mean, you did use your powers on me. Did you think I was just going to forget that?”
“P-punishment?” You asked nervously.
“Yeah,” Dean glared down at you, his eyes flashing black. “First, I’m gonna cut off your tongue. Then, I’m gonna give you so much blood, that you won’t be able to think straight. Then you’re gonna help me kill Sammy, then Crowley. And if you ever disobey me again, I’ll slit your throat.” Dean grinned. “How’s that for a little brotherly love?”
Dean’s knife was inching closer to your mouth, his other hand gripping your face to keep you still, when the lights went out. Dean released you, and a tense silence filled the bunker for a moment or two before the emergency lights clicked on, red light casting an eery glow throughout your room.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Dean said to you. “Now that I know where Sammy is, you can wait; after all, you’re not going anywhere.”
All you could do was watch as Dean turned and walked out, intent on killing your brother.
You were struggling against the restraints to no avail when Sam came bursting into the room.
“Did he hurt you?” Sam demanded, alarmed when you suddenly burst into tears.
“I-I thought he was gonna kill you,” you cried.
“It’s ok, I’m ok,” Sam assured you as he started to undo you restraints.
“Don’t!” You insisted. “I’m…I don’t think I’m clean yet.”
Sam halted his movements, his eyes trained on your face.
“He didn’t hurt you?” Sam asked.
“He didn’t get the chance.” You sniffled. “W…where is he?”
“Chained up again,” Sam sighed. “Cas is watching him. I think…I think maybe he’s almost human now.”
“Go to him,” you insisted. “I’ll be ok here until I’m clean, really.” Somehow, Dean’s threats had strengthened your resolve to stay away from demon blood. “Go bring our Dean back.”
“I want to see her.”
Sam was adamant. “You can’t, not yet.”
Dean sighed, rubbing his newly-freed hands over his face.
“Why not?”
Before Sam could answer, a cry of pain could be heard from your room. Sam cringed.
“She…she’s still in detox. She could go nuts if she sees you, even though you’re not a demon anymore. We can’t take that chance.”
Dean didn’t argue; he knew Sam was right. Still, the next two days were complete torture as he was forced to stay away from you, listening to your pleas for him. Every time you called out his name was a reminder that it was Dean’s fault that you were hurting.
“I’m sorry,” he found himself whispering over and over under his breath every time you cried out; he was desperate to tell you in person.
After those awful two days, the screaming stopped. Dean was already halfway to your room when he was stopped by Sam.
“She’s ok,” Sam insisted. “I think she’s clean. I just took her restraints off.”
“Ok,” Dean said simply, trying to move past Sam and toward your door. Sam moved in front of him.
“She’s sleeping. She needs it.”
Dean deflated, discouraged.
“What is this, Sam? Are you really trying to help her, or do you just not trust me?” He knew he was being unfair, but he had to know.
“It’s not about you,” Sam assured him, clearly pushing away his hurt at Dean’s implication. “She needs rest. Besides, I…I don’t know how she’ll react to seeing you again, and I don’t want to push her faster than I need to.”
Dean was silent for a long moment, before finally asking the question that had been nagging at him for days.
“Do you think she hates me?”
Sam looked pained, as if he had expected the question.
“Right now I…I almost wish she did,” Sam said. “Because I think she hates herself more than anything.”
You’d been awake for about twenty minutes, but you hadn’t moved. At least, your body hadn’t moved; your mind was going at a breakneck speed. You remembered briefly that Sam had said Dean was cured, but you couldn’t be sure if you’d imagined it in your withdrawal fog. You were pretty sure that most of yesterday had been a hallucination. Sam had insisted that he wouldn’t let Dean in, yet there he had been, jeering at you, saying again and again that the second you were clean, you’d be useless again.
You knew it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. But the hallucination had been right anyway.
The sound of the door opening had your head turning, but your mind still hadn’t left its dark corner.
“Hey,” Sam greeted, and even though the door was only open a little, you could see Dean standing behind him. That only lasted for a moment before Sam squeezed himself into your room and shut the door behind him. “How are you?”
“He doesn’t want to see me?” Your eyes remained glued to the door where Dean had been standing, even as you sat up.
“What?” Sam frowned. “Of course he does, I just…I wanted to check with you first. Are you gonna be ok to see him?”
You nodded. “If…” you were suddenly nervous at the thought of seeing Dean after everything. “If he wants to.”
“Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?”
Shame bubbled up in you as you thought about the past few weeks, and you ducked your head, unwilling to answer Sam’s question. He didn’t push it; instead, he turned to go, leaving the door open so that Dean could take his place.
“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted gently, and you heard rather than felt your breath pick up at the sound of his voice. You kept your eyes downcast.
What did Dean think of you? You remembered how disappointed and angry he had been with Sam when Sam had gotten hooked on demon blood. Would Dean hate you now? Would he finally see you as the burden you’d always been, now that you didn’t have powers anymore?
“Sweetheart, would you look at me?” When your eyes met his, you saw not anger or disappointment, but sadness. That was too much for you. The tears came suddenly and soundlessly. “Oh, kiddo…” Dean sighed, reaching his hands out to comfort you. However, you’d spent too much time with the rough, angry demon Dean to see comfort in his hands. When you flinched back, Dean stopped immediately, returning his hands to his sides. “I’m sorry, I…” Dean’s voice cracked. “I didn’t come here to scare you, I just wanted to apologize. I know that doesn’t make up for what I did, but…but I wanted you to know.”
You looked up suddenly, not surprised but doubtful. You’d expected an apology from Dean, but you hadn’t expected it to sound quite so sincere; you’d expected underlying disappointment at least.
“You…” you swallowed. “You’re not upset with me?”
“With you?” Dean was confused. “Why would I be upset with you?”
You ducked your head as the tears returned.
“I-I was weak,” you choked out. “I’m still weak.”
“Hey, hey.” Dean tilted your chin up with his fingers, his hands as gentle as could be on your skin. “None of this—not one bit—was your fault. I did this to you, and I don’t blame you, not for a second. Understand?”
You were shaking your head.
“I-I should’ve—“
“There was nothing you coulda done to stop me,” Dean said, self-loathing lacing his every word. “And I know how impossible it is to stop on your own after you’ve started, I’d never blame you for getting addicted.”
You stayed silent as you processed his words. Once you had, you felt the need to speak again.
“I don’t blame you either,” you insisted. “You weren’t the same—demon you. It wasn’t anything like you, it wasn’t your fault.”
Dean looked dubious, but he also didn’t bother to argue. Comfortable silence reigned for several minutes before he spoke again.
“How do you feel?”
“Starving,” you answered honestly, to which Dean smiled.
“You wanna take a little trip? You and me, I’ll take you to get some food.”
The idea of Dean bundling you into the Impala and driving off—without Sam nonetheless—had terror gripping your heart, accelerating its pace. You didn’t blame Dean for what he’d done, but the memories were still all too fresh.
“Or,” Dean countered, instantly noting your panicked expression. “Or I could go and get something to bring back, and you, me, and Sammy could have a movie night?”
You nodded—that sounded perfect. Dean was just turning to go when you stopped him.
“Dean? Does…is there any part of you that wishes I’d stayed that way?”
“What way?” Dean’s brows drew together, whether in concern or confusion you couldn’t tell. “You mean, addicted to demon blood?”
“I just mean…” you struggled to force the words out. “I mean…useful.”
Deans face fell, and you regretted asking.
“What?”
“I-I mean, I don’t really do anything around here. At least then, I—“
“Stop.” You weren’t sure if it was the seriousness of his tone, or the fact that you’d spent the last few weeks obeying his every word, but you shut up immediately when Dean spoke. “I want you to listen to me very carefully,” Dean said slowly and deliberately, and again you stayed obediently silent. “Nothing about what I did to you was good, ok? And you are not useless. Actually,” Dean waved his hand in front of his face dismissively. “Forget about use. Sam was right, you’re not some tool, ok? You’re important to us, and not because of what you can do. But even if it was about that, you do so much for us. You’ve been with me and Sammy through everything, and that matters way more than you moving stuff with your mind, ok?”
Despite the tears that were still falling, you felt a smile tug at your lips.
“Ok, Dean.”
“Ok,” Dean said with a firm nod. “Go find Sam, and I’ll head out for food.”
You stood almost mechanically and headed for the door without a word. Dean recognized your stance with a silent horror.
“Hey,” Dean’s voice was shaky as he reached out and grabbed your hand. “That…it wasn’t an order, ok? I’m not making you anything, I—“
“I know,” you interrupted, understanding his horror. “It’s just…habit, I-I guess. Shut up and obey, you know?” You wished you hadn’t added that last part when you saw Dean stiffen ever so slightly, swallowing hard.
“I’m so—“
“Don’t apologize again,” you pleaded. “I forgive you, ok? I-I guess I just need to unlearn some things.”
Dean nodded, but you could tell he was still beating himself up inside. You took two strides and reached him, pulling him into an embrace. His arms enveloped you entirely, and you realized that you’d forgotten how much you missed him.
“Tell me if I can help with that, ok?” He said.
“Ok,” you promised. “Now go get me some food, I’m starving.”
Dean’s chest rumbled next to your ear as he chuckled.
“Yes ma’am.”
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310 notes · View notes
castiwls · 23 days
Text
brother, brother - d.w
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Paring; dean & sister!reader
Synopsis; John Winchester was never a great father but where he failed someone else stepped up
Warnings; none
Notes; this has been sitting in my drafts for ages omg
masterlist
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You smiled at your brother as he appeared beside you, beers in hand. He passed one to you as he took a seat on the bonnet beside you. “Thanks.” You smiled before taking a sip. Your brother nodded before taking a sip of his own drink. 
“Remember how dad flipped the first time dad caught you drinking? Man, I think I saw fire in his eyes.” Your brother chuckled turning his head to take at you. “Oh yeah. I think that was the first time I ever faced his wrath.” You joked bumping shoulders with him. “I think I was too drunk to truly care to be completely honest.”
“You were a mess. I spent most of that night awake in case you were sick.” He shook his head. “Then you actually were sick.” He rolled his eyes. You grimaced slightly. “Please don’t remind me,” You took another sip. “Being sick on the floor in front of my younger brother was bad enough. I think I traumatised Sam that day.” 
Dean laughed. “Traumatised Sam!? It was me who had to clean it up, missy.” He exclaimed. “And I was very thankful you did.” You joked before looking out into the empty field. 
Your childhood was a touchy subject. Something which all three of you chose not to talk about unless necessary. Growing up you’d always known that your home life was less than normal, that your dad never acted in the way you saw dad’s on the TV act.
As you’d grown up you’d simply come to the conclusion that maybe John Winchester was never meant to be a dad, sure for the first two years of your life he’d played the part but even then you knew it wasn’t perfect. 
“You look like you're thinking quite hard there, you okay?” Dean bumped his shoulder with you drawing you back into the present. “I’m fine, just thinking…” You trailed off looking down at the drink in your hands. You felt your brother wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.
You both fell back into a comfortable silence for a moment before you turned your head to face him “You were more of a father to me than he ever was,” You smiled at your brother “Just so you know.”
Dean pressed a kiss to your forehead before resting his head on top of yours.
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lovelywriting666 · 2 months
Text
Strawberry Cream Cheese
Pairing(s): Sam Winchester x little sister!reader, Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, lil cameo of Claire Novak x reader (platonic)
synopsis: A day in the bunker with the boys
a/n: Girly reader, younger but like teenager age, takes place in no specific season, but like they all have up to date phones and stuff like that. Also this is a WIP and not proof read at all lolz <3
warnings: None
Hope you enjoy! :D
You were laying in bed listening to music, like classic lady gaga, Government Hooker, Americano, and Judas, while scrolling on your phone when you hear a knock on your door.
"Yeah?" You ask which is an invitation for the person on the other side of the door, presumably your brother, to open it. To no one's shock or surprise it's Dean.
"Hey kid, Sam's making breakfast do you want any?" He asks, his voice still laced with sleep, he probably just woke up.
You fell into the habit of getting up when Sam did so you could get ready for school, Sam was your personal alarm clock on school days and Dean was your personal chauffeur because Dean never trusted those school buses. But that's beside the point, you were used to waking up at the crack of dawn so you've been up for a while.
"Yeah, uh, just a begal and strawberry cream cheese" You respond as you pull yourself out of bed and stretch a bit.
Dean nods, "Alright kid, also change that music put on some good shit not this-" you cut Dean off with "Whatever old man" and Dean lets out and airy laugh and closes the door probably heading back to the kitchen where Sam was.
...
Once you put on something for the day you pause your music. Slide your phone into one of your pockets and head out into the hallway and to the kitchen. Sam was over the stove probably cooking eggs for himself and Dean, the toaster on and Dean with his head in the fridge.
You walk over to the kitchen table and sit down, you leg your legs across the bench and pull out your phone and you get a text from Claire.
Claire : Morning, going on a hunt, just wanted to let you know
You : Good Morning, have fun on the hunt!
Claire : Will do nerd
You : Knuckle Head
A plate clatters onto the table and you put your phone away and its your toasted bagel that Sam places in front of you and Dean sits across from you putting two plates down, one in front of him and one next to him. You gran the strawberry cream cheese container and open to find no cream cheese and you frown.
"What's wrong Bami?" Sam says kinda jokingly, it's the nickname Crowley gave you when you first met him with the brothers, it wasn't your proudest moment because you tripped in front of him, hence the nickname.
"We're out of Strawberry cream cheese" You say with a small huff and take a bite of your dry but good bagel.
"Damn, I think that calls for a food restock" Sam says, Dean and I agree.
Sam gets up from the table and grabs a notepad and pen from the junk drawer and walks back over to the table and sits down. He tosses me the notepad and pen, I scribble down food we need and other stuff while I eat. Once I think it's good I click the pen closed and Dean grabs the notepad off of the table and I continue eating.
"Nope, not buying *snack food* for you again" Dean said looking at the list.
"That was one time Dean! Plus you put it in the back of the cabinets, me and object permanence don't mix!" You sam with a huff and cross your arms.
"Fine, we'll get it but actually eat it this time" Dean says handing the list to Sam, you smirk getting up from the table and put your dishes in the sink. You hear Sam write down some things.
"Alright we'll let Dean finish eating breakfast, I'll wash the dishes and then we can head out" Sam say with a smile, I nod and head to the 'Dean Cave' because it has a bigger tv then in my room.
...
After a while you get a text from Sam.
Sam : Come on kid, we're heading out
You get up from the small love seat you were relaxing on and head to the main area. Sam and Dean were at the 'mission' table.
Sam was on his laptop and Dean was scrolling on his phone. Sam notices you first and shuts his laptop which makes Dean look up from his phone. Sam gets up from the table, Dean puts his phone in his pocket and pulls his keys out of his other pocket and jingle's them.
"Are lets get goin you two" Dean says with a smirk. You and Sam nod and follow Dean out to the garage and all pile into the Impala. You in the backseat, Sam and Dean in the front.
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rustys-lodge · 3 months
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Heyyy! i was wondering if i could request a supernatural fic. Deand and sams little sister (10) has been having really bad nightmares and one night she wakes up in a wet bed. This fic would mean a lot because i struggled with this for a long time🤍🤍 Lots and lots of comfot!!
A/N: sorry for the delay, i accidently didn't save every time i wrote something so i had to rewrite it many times. Also ik the gifs dont match the story but id personally rather have a picture in my mind of who im reading about so yeah ❤️
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You had just woken up-jolted awake-in the dead of night when sticky pyjamas started itching your legs.
You sleepily pulled your leg up, your fingers roaming around to feel for the itchy part when realization hit you-You wet the bed. And as a storm of thoughts started hitting you, tears pooled down your face.
You didn't mean it. You didn't want that to happen. The things haunting your dreams took full control of you. Of your body. You didn't mean for this to happen. What will Sam and Dean think of you. What would they-
"Kid."
A little gasp escaped your throat before you went quiet. You blinked through the tears, still under the shock and fully unprepared.
"Get out, get out. Get out." You histerically shouted, pulling the covers up to hide your body. "Get out!"
But Dean's furrowed eyebrows showed no cooperation. He wasn't about to leave you. And his careful steps contrasting your harsh demand for him to go only showed that.
Your small hands gripped the covers harder as he closed in on you. "Kid, what's gotten into y-"
"Don't-"
"Don't ask me to leave when you obviously need my hel-"
"I don't. Please lea-NO"
A yell that you did not permit escaped your lips when Dean's thigh was only inches away from resting on the bed. "Don't sit! i-i-" A storm of choked up sobs welled up and burst . And it seemed like Dean finally understood when he sighed, understanding and sympathetic.
"Oh kiddo..." His hand gently went for the covers, which you held tighter, but he tugged at it a couple of times and you let go, bringing your legs close to your upper body, enveloping them in a defensive manner.
And just as if you weren't humiliated enough, Sam entered your room, a mixture of worry and sleepiness puzzling his features.
"She..." Dean hesitated, causing embarrassment to flush your cheeks and more tears to gather in your eyes.
"I...I'm sorry. I-I was having such bad nightmares and i-" You sniffled, unable to hold the tears in. "I don't kno-"
"it's okay...Honey, come here." Sam came over, holding his hand out for you to hold. "come here." He softly pulled you out of bed. "Let's go take a quick bath."
You followed Sam to the bathroom, and a shower and a fresh change of clothes later, you find yourself settled in between your pillow,ms, right beside Sam.
He handed you your little bunny when he noticed a change in your features. "Don't...think about it too much, pumpkin." Sam spoke. And it somehow arose that embarrassement and fear within you again. Your cheeks heated up. You were once again feeling the same you were earlier.
"I'm sorry that i caused you troub-"
Your little mumbled was halted when Sam cupped your cheeks, enveloping the entirety of your face. "We're sorry that you have to go through that every night. And that you had to witness the monstrosities of the world at such a young age."
You lowered uour gaze to the ground as he continued. "Please do not apologize to us."
Your brother shifted his body to lay on his side, facing you, and as you did the same, he wrapped his hand around your back, pulling you close to him.
"Nothing can hurt you now. I got you."
------
I'm sorry you struggled with that ❤️❤️ i hope this fic brings you the comfort needed ❤️
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superlunar-eclipse · 3 months
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Girl! I need more FBI Winchester!Sister reader stories! I hope that becomes a series 😩😩
🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ COMFORT IN SOLITUDE
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SUMMARY: After a tough case, Y/N and Dean retreat to separate motel rooms. Sensing Dean's distress, Y/N finds him at her door, visibly upset. She comforts him, calming him down. Despite their tough lifestyle, Dean finds peace in his big sister, Y/N.
WARNINGS: angst? blood and mentions of alcohol. (lmk if i missed any)
RELATIONSHIPS: dean winchester x Y/N winchester and mentions of sam winchester x Y/N winchester.
WORD COUNT: 878 words
AUTHORS NOTE: thank you for being my first request, i am will now be considering of making this into a series! Y/N is mentioned to had studied human behavior and emotions in college.
MASTERLIST 💫
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The case they had worked on tonight had been mentally and physically taxing. A devastating amount of innocent lives had been prematurely extinguished due to the reckless choices of theirs. The weight of responsibility hung heavy upon their shoulders, and the somber mood permeated the car ride back to the motel.
A silent consensus was reached between them; they were simply too drained to embark on the journey back to the bunker. Their bodies were smeared in a morbid mix of their own blood and that of those they had been unable to save. They could hardly muster the energy to clean themselves up before collapsing into the worn leather seats of the Impala.
Upon arrival at the motel, they opted for separate rooms. Normally, if only two beds were available, Y/N would willingly relinquish hers to sleep on the couch while Sam and Dean took the beds. However, this time, Sam had stayed behind to delve into research, and both Dean and Y/N felt a strong desire for solitude.
Y/N dropped her heavy bag onto the threadbare motel carpet and rummaged through it for her night clothes. She trudged to the bathroom, her head hanging low, burdened by the night's events.
She shed her blood-soaked clothes and stepped into the shower. She stood motionless, watching as the scarlet stains swirled away down the drain. After changing into fresh clothes, she sank onto the couch, her body heavy with exhaustion. She heaved a sigh and closed her eyes, endeavoring to banish the haunting memories of the case from her mind.
In the silence of her room, Y/N became acutely aware that she should go and check on Dean. She knew the case had struck a particularly painful chord with him.
Both Dean and Y/N were alike in their habitual reluctance to open up about their feelings, but their coping mechanisms differed greatly. Dean often sought solace in alcohol, sometimes to the point of passing out, despite Y/N's repeated warnings that it was an unhealthy way to deal with his emotions.
Y/N, on the other hand, preferred to avoid sleep, choosing instead to distract herself with research. She poured over texts about demons, vampires, ghouls, ghosts, shapeshifters and other creatures they might need to hunt in the future.
Having studied human behavior and emotions extensively in college, Y/N was adept at masking her feelings. However, tonight, she decided to reach out to Dean. She opened her motel room door, only to be taken aback by the sight of Dean standing there.
He looked vulnerable, his hands fidgeting nervously and his head hung low. Y/N could tell that he had been crying. She silently ushered him into her room.
They sat on the couch in silence for a few heartbeats before Y/N began to speak. But before she could get a word out, Dean cut her off. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder, his body wracked with sobs.
Y/N offered Dean the comfort he needed, setting aside her own feelings for now, holding him close and murmuring soothing words until his breathing slowly returned to normal. She tenderly kissed his forehead and wiped away his tears.
"Goodnight, Dean," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. No matter what horrors they had to face, he could always find solace in his big sister.
As the quiet of the night deepened, Y/N found herself unable to leave the couch. Dean's head rested heavily on her lap, his steady breathing a testament to the exhaustion that had finally claimed him. His slumber was a stark contrast to the turmoil they had endured earlier, and Y/N took solace in the peace that sleep had granted him.
Her hand remained on his back, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingers a reassurance that he was still with her, still alive. The comforting warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of her clothes, anchoring her to the present moment. She found an inexplicable comfort in their shared silence, a reprieve from the chaos of their lives.
Her thoughts inevitably drifted towards the case they had just closed. The faces of the innocent lives lost emerged in her mind, their haunting eyes reflecting the horrors they had been subjected to.
The guilt of not being able to save them all gnawed at her insides. But she knew, as did Dean, that they couldn't save everyone. It was a harsh truth they had learned early in their line of work, yet it hit them anew with each case.
Y/N shook her head, dispelling the morbid thoughts. She needed to focus on the present, on Dean. She allowed herself a soft smile, appreciating the rare moment of tranquility they were granted. Despite the horrors they faced, these quiet moments, where it was just them, were the ones she treasured the most.
As sleep began to creep up on her, Y/N adjusted her position carefully, ensuring not to disturb Dean. She let her eyes close, the comforting rhythm of Dean's breathing lulling her into sleep. With the weight of the day finally catching up to them, they found solace in each other's company, their bond a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.
thank you for reading !
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