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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 18 days

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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.

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.”

Taglist:

@mrvlxgrl @nyotamalfoy @chocorade @inlovewhithafairytale @aestheticdaisies @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

Fic Taglist:

@just-levyy @mfstargirlsworld

#dean winchester #the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #demon dean #demon dean x little sister #demon dean x reader #sam winchester x sister!reader

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inlovewhithafairytale · 3 months

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POV: The Winchester's have a little sister

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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 !! ❤️❤️❤️⚘️⚘️⚘️

#winchester daughter #little winchester #father x daughter!reader #daughter reader #daughter!reader #protective father #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester xdaughter #sam winchester x daughter #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #sister!reader #winchester sister #dean winchester x sister #sam winchester x sister

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ellieslittleburrow · 1 month

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Coming home late..doesn't keep Dean okay.

Summery : You've been acting out, lately. Or at least that's what Sam and Dean called it. For you it was just having fun, living. That is until Dean couldn't take it anymore...

Warnings : a bit of a violent behaviour, stern brother

Pairings : Dean winchester x sister reader

A/n : AHA WHATS THAT TITLE. Also i'm sorry if this brings bad memories to any of you guys ❤️ Comments are much appreciated peeps 🌸

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"Lookie here"

A voice you have so carelessly gotten used to, tinted with a hint of disappointment and of passive aggressiveness. "Miss wild life has just come back from her adventures."

You sighed as your boots tiredly thump the metallic steps of the bunker and Dean emerged through the metallic columns.

"What?" You threw your arms out. "Am i not allowed to go out now? Should i ask for your permission for everything?" You spat out. Fucker really had to do this as soon as you came back home?

"No!" Dean rose from the chair and dangerously made his way to you. "You could've answered the phone one of the 10 times i called, though!" He sounded enthusiastic for a second. "Or maybe just gotten home on time." And then that enthusiasm shifted to disappointment. And after a few seconds of silence, he spoke again, his voice fatigued. "What are you doing, kid?"

It was a simple 4 worded question. But the answer to it requiered a few shrinks and lots of writing. You didn't know why you were acting this way, really. To you it was no big deal. Why do they want to force everything on you? Get home at this hour, wear this and not that, eat, don't talk to that person, don't haunt this and that...You were just done with all this attention to the little details that meant nothing to you...You just..wanted them to notice you, what you liked, your qualities, the fact that you knew well enough how to haunt. There was also the fact that...handling things on your own was no longer a possibility..The pain, the nightmares, the memories.

"I'm not doing anything, Dean. I just got home like-" You stop to look at your watch. "A fucking hour late. Boohoo, what a big fucking dea-"

"LILY."

You stop! Faltering for a tiny moment before quickly recovering, adrenaline pumping through your body.

"Don't raise your voic-"

You'd spoke but Dean interrupted you, closing the gap between you, sending you staggering backwards. But you still hold your head up high, chest puffed up and ready to fight...cleching your fists as your hands trembled.

"i don't think you understand, lily." Your brother wrapped his hand around your arm, looming over your -what felt like- tiny body. You held your gaze down. Are you still going to fight? Or are you going to apologize and move on?

"It's not because i let you loose that it's actually acceptable for you to behave this way. I understand that you're angry and that you're taking it out on me-"

"that's fucking stupi-"

Fight it is..

"it's not stupid, you're acting out like you're five."

"i swear to god and i promise you, if you ever do this again, lily, you're done. And not done the way you usually are. I promise you that if you do this ever again, i will make sure you never forget that day. "

You scoff and shrug, the perfect cocktail for Dean's eyes to go lower, darker. Angrier. But all that bitterness washed away... and he nodded, slowly.

"Okay then" He let go of your arm and you internally wished he didn't. It felt now like you'd rather he grounds you and yells, because that smile meant that whatever was coming, was going to be much worse.

"Since you're all grown up and ready to take care of yourelf, let me change it up for you."

Much worse indeed..

He stood up straight and you shrunk again. You didn't want this!!! This is not what you had in m-

"We've already got enough problems on our plate, you acting out, with your temper tantrums and your shit-" He shakes his hands. " i'm not having it."

You'd speak up...apologize..But you're too angry and terrified to even think. Let alone talk.

"You do this shit again, you're out. Capiche?"

You opened your mouth to speak but!- you're stunned. And a lump grew heavy in your throat as regret set in....

"And you watch your language, or else i promise you i'll smack your face so bad your jaw will hurt."

Your eyebrows stood up in surprise..Never has Dean EVER been this violent. And by the looks of it, he meant it. He meant all of it. Every single word. And you...you-

You burst into tears, choking as saliva pooled in your mouth. You've never felt such things and-and you don't get why he'd eve-

"I asked you a question, lily." He thundered but you were in no state that would get you to stop crying, anytime soon. Only an unintentional whimper escaped your lips. "Lily, i asked you a question." He demanded again, groaning higher.

You nod, hoping it would get him off you but...that only infuriorates him more. "ANSWER ME."

his tone turned more violent, piercing your ears and you nodded again. "Yeah. Yes-I I understand." Your lips trembling as your upper body leaned away from him.

Just then does he let go of your arm. "'Out of my face now, kid."

Without hesitation, you stepped aside, heading for your room.

You placed the back of your hand on your mouth, covering it before another wave of tears comes in.

You might've fucked up, badly this time, as Dean has never been this mean to you. And it just felt like....John and Sam all over again.

You had to do something about. But it could wait. Until Sam came back.

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Ola, yall! I love writing angst 😭😭😭 What do we think???? ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

#sister!reader #daughter!reader #sibling fic #winchester sister #sister x brothers #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister #little winchester #baby winchester #protective brother #father figure fic #adoptive father troop #sam winchester x daughter

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pumpkinspiie · 3 months

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sibling showdown…

(warnings. angst.)

The night was thick with tension as Sam and Dean Winchester stealthily moved through the dense woods. Their flashlights cut through the darkness, revealing twisted branches and ominous shadows. The brothers were on a relentless pursuit to rescue their younger sister, Jenna, who had been kidnapped by a cunning skinwalker during a routine hunt.

A rustle in the bushes ahead put them on high alert. Dean tightened his grip on the silver knife, and Sam silently loaded his shotgun. The woods seemed to come alive with whispers as they closed in on the creature's lair.

Suddenly, a chilling howl echoed through the trees, sending shivers down their spines. The brothers exchanged determined glances, knowing that time was of the essence. Jenna's life hung in the balance.

The trail led them to an abandoned cabin hidden in the heart of the forest. Cautiously approaching, they heard Jenna's muffled cries from within. Dean kicked open the door, revealing the skinwalker looming over their sister, who was bound to a chair.

Without hesitation, Sam unleashed a barrage of shots with his shotgun, forcing the creature back. Dean lunged forward, slashing at the skinwalker with his silver knife. The battle was fierce, each sibling fighting with unmatched determination to save Jenna.

Amidst the chaos, Jenna managed to free herself and crawled to safety. Sam and Dean relentlessly pursued the skinwalker, cornering it in a dimly lit room. The creature snarled, its eyes flickering between the brothers.

As the final showdown unfolded, Sam recited an incantation, invoking the power of ancient spells. Dean seized the opportunity, plunging the silver knife into the heart of the skinwalker. The room was filled with an otherworldly wail as the creature disintegrated into dust.

Breathing heavily, the siblings gathered in a tight embrace, relieved to have Jenna back unharmed. The moonlit night bore witness to the unbreakable bond of the Winchester family, forged through countless battles against supernatural forces.

As they exited the cabin, the dawn painted the horizon with hues of orange and pink. The brothers, victorious yet weary, led Jenna through the now serene woods, ready to face whatever challenges the next hunt would bring.

The aftermath of the skinwalker encounter lingered like a haunting memory for the Winchester siblings. Jenna, grateful for her brothers' unwavering protection, couldn't shake the fear that clung to her like a shadow. Sam and Dean, ever vigilant, sensed the weight she carried.

Days passed, and the trio found themselves holed up in a rundown motel. Jenna sat on one of the beds, gazing out the window as the rain pattered against the glass. Sam approached, his concern etched across his face.

"Hey, Jenna, you holding up okay?" Sam asked, his voice soft.

Jenna nodded, but the haunted look in her eyes spoke volumes. "It's just... I never thought I'd be the one needing saving."

Dean entered the room, a tray of coffee cups in hand. He sat down beside Jenna, offering her a cup. "We've all been there, sis. What matters is we got each other's backs."

As the rain outside intensified, the siblings huddled together, recounting stories of past victories and losses. It was a ritual, a way to heal the wounds inflicted by the supernatural. In those moments, the Winchester bond grew stronger, a beacon against the encroaching darkness.

Their next case led them to a small town plagued by mysterious disappearances. Unbeknownst to them, a malevolent force lurked in the shadows, orchestrating a sinister plot. The Winchesters, driven by duty and determination, set out to unravel the town's dark secrets.

As they delved deeper into the investigation, the siblings faced new challenges and unearthed a conspiracy that went beyond anything they had encountered before. The threads of the supernatural tapestry intertwined, weaving a narrative that would test their limits.

In the heart of the town's abandoned asylum, the Winchester trio confronted a formidable adversary. The air crackled with tension as they prepared to face a malevolent entity that thrived on chaos. The shadows of redemption loomed, and the Winchester legacy continued in the unending battle against the forces that sought to plunge the world into darkness.

The eerie silence of the abandoned asylum was shattered as Sam, Dean, and Jenna faced the malevolent vampire lurking in the shadows. The air grew thick with tension as the siblings squared off against the supernatural foe, ready for the impending battle.

The vampire moved with blinding speed, dodging Sam's strikes and countering Dean's attacks. In the chaos, Jenna found herself ensnared in the creature's vice-like grip. Panic flickered in her eyes as she struggled against the vampire's strength.

"Let her go!" Dean bellowed, his silver knife gleaming in the dim light.

The vampire, reveling in its advantage, chuckled darkly. "You Winchesters always think you can control the narrative, but fate has a different plan."

With a swift motion, the vampire sank its fangs into Jenna's neck, draining the life force from her. Horror and desperation gripped Sam and Dean as they witnessed their sister succumbing to the vampiric curse.

Time seemed to slow as the siblings faced a gut-wrenching choice. Jenna's transformation into a vampire was imminent, and they knew the consequences of such a fate. The weight of the decision pressed heavily upon them.

In a moment of shared determination, Sam and Dean locked eyes, silently communicating the unbearable decision they had to make. With a heavy heart, Dean raised his silver knife, ready to end Jenna's life before the vampire's curse took hold.

However, in a surprising turn, Sam intervened, seizing Dean's arm. "There has to be another way, Dean. We can find a cure, break the curse. We can't give up on her."

The struggle between hope and despair played out on their faces as they grappled with the impossible choice. The vampire, sensing the internal conflict, reveled in the chaos it had sown among the siblings.

The echoing sounds of the impending decision resonated through the asylum, leaving the Winchester trio at a crossroads that would reshape their lives forever. The echoes of their choices would linger in the haunted corridors, as the shadows of destiny loomed larger than ever before.

The abandoned asylum echoed with the haunting aftermath of the life-changing encounter. Sam and Dean, faces etched with the weight of their decisions, hastily carried Jenna back to the dimly lit motel room. The once-familiar haven now felt like a battleground of emotions.

Jenna lay on one of the beds, her skin already bearing the pallor of transformation. The vampiric curse coursed through her veins, threatening to extinguish the last remnants of her humanity. Sam and Dean paced the room, their minds racing with conflicting thoughts.

"We can't just let her turn," Dean grumbled, frustration evident in his voice. "It's a death sentence."

Sam, however, couldn't shake the glimmer of hope. "There has to be a way, Dean. We've faced impossible odds before. Maybe there's a cure, a way to reverse the process."

As they deliberated, Jenna's eyes flickered open, now reflecting the crimson glow of a nascent vampire. She weakly raised her hand, her voice barely audible. "Guys, whatever you decide, I trust you. Just promise me one thing."

Both brothers turned their attention to Jenna, their expressions a mix of sorrow and determination.

"Promise me you'll always protect each other," Jenna whispered, her plea hanging heavy in the air.

The gravity of the situation settled upon the room, each passing second marked by the impending transformation. Sam and Dean exchanged a solemn nod, their unspoken commitment to Jenna echoing through the silent motel.

Realizing the urgency, Sam fervently began researching vampire lore, seeking any clue that could lead to a solution. Dean, torn between pragmatism and loyalty, kept a watchful eye on Jenna.

The room became a crucible of emotions, a battleground not just against supernatural forces but within the hearts of the Winchester siblings. As the motel's flickering light cast shadows on their strained faces, the bond that held them together faced its most formidable test.

The brothers knew that whatever decision they made would fracture the fragile semblance of normalcy they had clung to. In the face of the supernatural, destiny loomed large, and the Winchester legacy hung in the balance.

The motel room was cloaked in an atmosphere of uncertainty as Sam continued to sift through ancient texts, desperately searching for a glimmer of hope. Jenna's transformation progressed, her once vibrant eyes now betraying the ominous crimson hue of a vampire.

Dean, unable to bear the tension, approached Sam. "Any luck finding a cure?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of anxiety and impatience.

Sam sighed, his eyes scanning the worn pages. "It's complicated, Dean. There are mentions of rituals, but they're risky, and success isn't guaranteed."

As the brothers deliberated, Jenna's condition worsened. Her strength waned, and the hunger that accompanied the vampiric transformation gnawed at her insides. She mustered the strength to speak. "I can feel it, guys. The change is happening fast."

A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant hum of passing cars. The brothers shared a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the agonizing decision that loomed over them. In that moment, they understood the gravity of the pact they were about to make.

Dean, steeling himself, approached Jenna's bedside. "We can't let you become a monster, Jenna. We won't."

Jenna, though weakened, managed a faint smile. "I trust you, Dean. Do what you have to."

The brothers exchanged a solemn nod, their unspoken bond resonating through the room. Dean raised the silver knife, his hand trembling with the weight of the impending choice. Sam, conflicted but resolute, placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.

In a heartbeat, the room became a crucible of fate. The shadows of the night bore witness to the Winchester brothers' unwavering commitment to protect each other, even when faced with the most heart-wrenching decisions.

As Dean made the painful cut, severing the connection between Jenna and the darkness that threatened to consume her, a solemn pact with the night was forged. The room echoed with the echoes of sacrifice and determination, and the brothers, bound by blood and choice, faced the unknown path that lay ahead.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x little sister!reader #sam winchester #supernatural #littlesister!reader

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hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog · 1 year

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Hey looking for a fanfic for supernatural, it’s a Dean x Sam x little sister. Base off the David Bowie “Hey little Sister”. Plot of the story is three are driving either back from or two a case, and long car rides cause some fun times to be had. Smut for sure. I can’t remember who the author is, been trying to find it for a while, any help would be great.

@fictionalabyss

@winchesterenthusiast @winchesterprincessbride @wincestislove @wincestplease @wincesthaikus @wincestbritin @plus-size-reader @plussizeappreciationfics

#supernatural #fanfiction #fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #fandom #sam x reader #sam x you #supernatural fandom #sam x y/n #spn #hey little sister #lookingforastory #wincest

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wraithlafitte · 3 months

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you're no femme fatale

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader

CONTENT: use of y/n, dubcon (mission sequence), soft dom!reader, guided masturbation, light degradation (m!receiving), stripping, begging, scratching, hair pulling, handjob, exhibitionism if you squint

word count: 3.3k

a/n: anon request here! enjoy 🖤 honestly felt like i was scraping the bottom of the barrel to keep this interesting LOL hope it's what you wanted

"No. No way in hell I'm doing that," you said, throwing up your hands and backing away from the table, littered with piles of Sam's research.

"Aw, come on, Y/N," Sam protested. "You're the only one of us that could do it."

"I am not entertaining some dirty old man for this," you snapped, snatching up a museum scan of the artifact you were supposed to steal. "We'll find another way."

"If there was another way, I'd be asking you to do that," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "This is the path of least resistance. You get in his office, slip it into your dress while he's not looking, and we'll come get you after ten minutes. That's it."

You huffed a sigh and crossed your arms.

Just then, Dean returned from his fast food run, greasy paper bags in hand. "Hey, nerds," he greeted impishly. "Grub's on."

You rolled your eyes as he plopped the bags right in the middle of Sam's papers.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Dean asked, settling himself into a chair and unwrapping a double cheeseburger.

"You would know if you had stayed to help make it," you replied annoyedly.

Dean flicked his eyebrows. "No need to get testy."

Sam sighed, deciding to intervene before things got ugly. You and Dean weren't exactly known for getting along, tolerating each other just enough to get jobs done when you had to. This was mostly due to the fact that you thought Dean was a douchebag, and he just dished back whatever you threw at him.

"The best plan we've got so far is that Y/N seduces the guy," Sam explained.

Dean snorted, almost spitting out his too-large bite of burger. "I'm sorry what?"

"I figure we'll never be able to get in there during the event, since it'll be so locked down," Sam continued. "Our best bet is getting him to let one of us in."

"Have you seen her?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a once-over. "Not exactly the seducing type."

You looked down at your current outfit. Cargo pants and a mens t-shirt topped with a utility vest and a leather bomber jacket. He had a point, although not for the reasons he thought. You could dress up, you just chose to dress practically. More pockets for knives. No, you just weren't sure you'd be able to convince the man you wanted him. Seventy-something sleazebags weren't exactly high on your to-fuck list.

"For once, I agree with Dean." You tossed the photo back onto the table. "Can we think of something else, please?"

"Yeah, as much as I'd like to see her try and pretty up to get in some old dude's pants, there's gotta be a more surefire way," Dean said with his mouth full. "Cuz you're no femme fatale," he added pointedly.

You were getting a little annoyed at his jabs. "You don't think I can do it?" you asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

"Sister, I don't think you could seduce a virgin," Dean scoffed.

You turned to Sam, bristling. "That's it then. I'll do it."

"What?" Dean said loudly through his half-chewed bite.

Sam looked at you with concern. "Are you sure? Just because Dean-"

"I'm sure." You set your jaw confidently. "Let's go to the charity event."

"We're heading out to the car," Sam called through the bathroom door, where you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup.

"Be right there," you called back, surveying yourself in the mirror. Not bad, you thought, considering the last time you put on this much makeup was prom night. You had tried to go for something an old man would like: a classic red lip and smoky eye that paired pretty well with the vintage-looking slinky black satin dress you'd found at the thrift store around the corner. It went down to your ankles, showing off your heels, and had a long slit that made its way up your leg to your hip.

You threw your coat on and hurried out the door, hopping into the backseat of the Impala. Sam glanced at you in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows appreciatively, but Dean didn't spare you a second glance. You were annoyed, since half the reason you were doing this was to prove him wrong, but there would be plenty of time to show off later.

As the Impala peeled out of the hotel parking lot, you took a deep swig from the flask you kept in your coat pocket. This better work.

Neither of the boys helped you out of the car when you arrived.

"Chivalry is dead," you announced after almost stumbling onto your face getting out. You tossed your coat back into the backseat, revealing your outfit to the two hunters.

Suddenly Sam was all-too-eager to offer you his arm, and the two of you headed inside, Dean close behind. You hadn't missed the way his eyes widened when you dropped your coat, so you swung your hips a little as you walked. That'll show him.

The plan worked better than you could have hoped. The sleazy old something-inaire led you to his office, hand wrapped around your waist as you clung to his arm, pretending to laugh at his stupid sexist old man jokes.

As he clicked the heavy oak door shut, you quickly scanned the room, trying to find the artifact you came for. There. On his desk. All you had to do was grab it, and-

The old man grabbed you by the hips, pulling you flush against his body. "Where were we, sweetheart?"

Insides roiling with disgust, you turned around and placed your hands on his chest, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. "Right here," you said cattily, batting your eyelashes as you grabbed him by the lapels and led him backwards to the desk.

Here goes nothing, you thought, and pulled the old guy in for a kiss. Trying to ignore the way his tongue dug into your mouth, you felt around behind you for the artifact.

Got it. You quickly palmed the object and broke the kiss, looking up at the old man through your lashes. Now Sam or Dean was gonna bust down the door, claiming you as his missing drunk sister.

Aaaaany minute now.

The old man smiled wolfishly and you felt his hands creeping lower, lower, until he grabbed your ass firmly, jerking you closer to him and capturing your lips again.

Your heart hammered in your chest. This was not going how it was supposed to. You tried to wiggle away, but the guy was surprisingly strong for his age.

"Where you going, baby?" he asked, eyes glinting.

"I think I- I have to go," you said, aware that you were sounding a little panicked.

"You wanted this," he reminded you, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He swung you around and pushed you into the leather couch across from the desk. You tried to scramble up, but it was hard with your tight dress and the artifact still clutched in your hand, desperately being concealed, so the old man grabbed you easily by the hair, forcing you to stay down.

"Now why don't we put those pretty lips to use?"

The door swung open with a bang. The old man looked up, startled, releasing his death grip on your hair.

"There you are," came the fake-laughing voice of Dean.

"Who are you?" demanded the old man. "Get out of here!"

"Sorry man, this is my sister," Dean said, raising his hands apologetically. "She gets really hammered, acts like a slut. Gotta get her home." He helped you up, and you smiled and giggled, putting on the drunk-girl act.

Dean helped you hurry out of the room, the old man looking disappointed and angry at being cockblocked.

"Thanks," you whispered once you were down the hall and out of earshot. "What a creep."

"Please tell me you got it," Dean said darkly, weaving you through the crowd. You slipped the artifact into his suit pocket, giving it a pat for good measure.

"Didn't do that for nothing." You winked at him and pushed him away to walk the rest of the way to the car on your own two feet.

Dean stared after you, dumbfounded. He tried not to fixate on the way your hips swayed in that dress as you walked away proudly. God, that dress! It hugged your body perfectly, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been eyeing you all night. His cock was semi-hard in his dress pants, an annoying reminder of just how much you'd proved him wrong.

"Come on, dickhead," you yelled out the back window of the Impala. Dean realized starkly that he had stopped in place thinking about your tits.

"Dammit," he muttered, hurrying around to the driver's seat.

The three of you piled into your hotel room to debrief from the mission. You assured the boys that you were alright from your creepy encounter with the old guy, and that stealing the artifact was worth it. The way Dean watched you raptly as you began to disrobe was not lost on you.

"I've dealt with worse in my time," you reminded them, shaking out your hair. "I'm a solo female hunter. Sleazy men hit on me literally wherever I go." You plopped down on the bed and pulled your stockings off one by one.

"As long as you're sure," Sam said, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna head back over to our room to get some sleep. You coming, Dean?"

Dean snapped out of his fantasy. "Uh, no. I'll be there in a little bit. Gotta talk to her about something."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Just don't bite each other's head off." And with that, he was gone.

You watched Dean from the shadows of the half-lit room. When he made no move to say anything, you did. "What do you need to talk about?" you asked, knowing full well. "Gonna say sorry cuz of how wrong you were?"

Dean flicked his eyes up to yours. Where had he been looking before?

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. You did good."

You stood and sauntered over to where he sat in a straight-backed chair by the dresser. "But that's not all, is it?" You smirked at him and looked him up and down, gaze lingering on his crotch, where a tent had begun to form.

Dean covered his bulge with his hand and pressed down, growling. "You were a little too good."

"So, what? You stayed because you want me to help with that?" you teased, coming closer.

"Yeah," Dean said roughly, standing quickly.

"No," you said bluntly, taking him by the shoulder and pushing him back into the chair.

Dean grimaced. "Why? Please," he begged, face twisted in arousal.

You giggled. "Wow."

"What?" Dean snapped, eyes cracking open.

"Nothing," you said, smirking. "You could beg a little more, might help." You felt your own arousal start to pool in your panties.

"Please, Y/N." Dean looked up at you with wild eyes, squeezing his cock through his pants.

"Please what?" You cocked your head.

"Please... make me cum," he said finally, eyes dropping to your midriff, unwilling to hold your gaze.

You tilted his chin up so he would look at you again, feeling a certain sense of satisfaction that you had somehow reduced him to this begging, horny mess in the chair before you.

"All you had to do was ask," you said softly. You backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Dean started to get up and follow you.

"No," you said, holding up a red-manicured finger. "Sit back down." You pointed.

Dean frowned but did as he was told. You smiled, delighted.

"You're having way too much fun with this," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry what was that?" you asked with a stern expression. "Do you want to cum or not?"

Dean's dick twitched in his pants. The way you bossed him around was really turning him on. "Nothing."

"That's what I thought." You twirled your hair thoughtfully. Dean whined impatiently.

"Tsk, tsk." You crossed your legs at an angle where he could almost see through the slit into your crotch. "Take your cock out."

Dean was all too happy to oblige, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants faster than you could say desperate, hiking up his dress shirt in the process.

"Wait," you interrupted before he could go any further. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt, too. Wouldn't want to make a mess." You smirked.

"Okay," Dean agreed breathily, practically tearing the two sides of the shirt from each other, exposing his muscular torso. You had seen him shirtless before, but there was something about the way he was breathing, stomach rising and falling quickly as he panted, that turned you on when it wouldn't normally.

"Now you can take your dick out," you said. You held your breath a little as his cock came into view. He was fully hard now, and dripping. He squeezed the base, moaning.

"Now what?" he asked, eyes shut as he lightly stroked his cock with his fingertips.

"You need me to tell you how to jack off?" you asked meanly. To your surprise, Dean moaned loudly at that.

He began stroking his cock, slowly at first, building up speed as he could no longer contain himself. A near-constant string of quiet whimpers and moans fell from his lips. You took note of the way he swiped his thumb over his leaking slit, spreading it around to aid his fingers.

"Look at me," you instructed. You wanted to see that wild look in his eyes again, and were instantly rewarded as his eyes flew open to meet yours. His mouth fell open as he gasped when he saw you.

"Forget I was here?" you teased. Dean gulped and shook his head vehemently. His hand slowed, and he started tugging himself less frantically, holding eye contact with you intensely.

"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "You're so hot, wanna see you."

You smirked. "Only because you admitted it." You hiked up your skirt, spreading the slit open so he could see your black lace panties.

Dean devoured your skin with his eyes, rubbing the head of his cock in circles with his thumb.

You dropped the straps of your dress so that they hung loosely around your shoulders and ran your long nails across your collarbones, petting your shoulders. Then you took hold of the neckline and pulled it down, freeing your tits from the dress.

"Better than I imagined, baby," Dean groaned at the sight, as his hips bucked into his hand.

You took one of your breasts in your hand, squeezing it towards your chest. "You imagined?" you lilted, smiling.

"Been thinkin' about you all night," he admitted shamelessly. "How good your tits looked in that dress. How good- ngh- you looked walkin' away from me."

Your other hand started creeping into your skirt. "Thought I couldn't even seduce a virgin. What does that make you?"

Dean growled, jerking his cock faster. "I don't- fuck-"

"Maybe you're just a manwhore," you purred, hopping off the bed to approach him.

"Please," Dean gasped, tossing his head back. "I need you."

You scoffed. "I'm not that lacking in self-respect." You lightly scratched your fingernails down the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, groaning, hand stilling.

You leaned in to murmur in his ear. "No, you're gonna take care of this all... by... yourself." You laced your fingers into his short hair, scratching his scalp, and pulled his head back. He relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling.

"So take care of it," you remind him harshly, giving his hair a hard tug before letting go. Dean raised his head hazily and began to stroke his dick again, gasping. It was angry red, practically begging for release, but Dean seemed determined to tease himself until he couldn't take it anymore, which you suspected would be soon.

You turned your back to him and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a silken puddle. You heard Dean moan softly, sound of skin rubbing skin growing faster. You smiled to yourself as an idea occurred to you.

Against a backdrop of street lamplight coming through the window and lewd noises coming from Dean, you padded barefoot wearing only your underwear to the other side of the bed, where your pajamas lay folded neatly on the nightstand. You unfolded them and spread them out on the bed.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked hoarsely. "Don't- please stay- I need to see you," he whimpered finally.

You ignored him, as you had been planning to do, and put your pajamas on dramatically slowly to the soundtrack of Dean begging you to stop, stay naked, help him.

You turned back to him when you were finished and a rush of arousal hit you at the sight: Dean, cock in hand, sitting exactly where you had left him, sweaty and gasping and looking at you with a wild, desperate expression. You moaned softly in spite of yourself.

"Poor baby," you pout, rounding the bed to sit next to him again. "Haven't you come yet?"

Dean's hand was working overtime, forearm muscles flexing and rippling beneath his skin where his sleeve was rolled up.

"Can't," he breathed.

"You can't come?" You feigned surprise, even though you had known for several minutes that he was probably going to wait for your permission.

"Need you," Dean panted. "Can't do it- mm- without you."

"Sure you can," you said, running your nails down his chest. He shivered intensely.

Dean whimpered, face contorting in frustration. "I can't."

"What, I got you so turned on you can't even jack off without me?" you tease, fingertips stopping right above his happy trail.

"Please touch me."

"I am touching you," you reply smoothly, digging your fingers into his stomach.

Dean rolled his eyes, although you weren't sure if it was sass or pleasure. "Please," he insisted, whining.

"Useless." You replaced his hand with yours, gripping his cock tightly as you stroked it for him. "Can't even make yourself come without my help."

Dean went slack-jawed, head falling back once more. "Uh-huh," he moaned breathily. He ground his hips upwards, trying to find more pressure or friction or something but getting nothing but what you gave him.

"You're a useless whore, right?" you taunted. He would tell you if you went too far, right?

"Yes," Dean groaned loudly. You almost clapped your hand over his mouth, certain that Sam could hear through the walls.

"Shhh, be quiet baby," you said instead. You swiped your thumb over the head of his dick and he hissed, biting his lip. Your other hand went down to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze.

Suddenly Dean's whole body tensed and his eyes flew open. "Shit- I'm so close, please," he panted. His abs flexed, indicating that he was telling the truth.

You increased the pressure on both hands slightly. "Go on then."

Dean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled gasp and a groan as he came, spurting over his stomach and your hands. You kept pumping, using his cum to aid your efforts, until he was begging you to stop between gasping breaths. Only then did you let go of him, admiring your handiwork.

One Dean Winchester (formerly unbelieving of your sexual prowess), spread over a chair, covered in cum, sweaty and panting and utterly fucked out.

"Thank you," he whispered weakly after a moment.

"Will you ever doubt me again?" you asked, smirking.

He rolled his head to the side to look at you. "No. Fuck, that was hot." Dean grinned. "Actually, I changed my mind. Maybe I should doubt you more often."

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, Winchester. Clean up and go to bed."

Dean got out of the chair stiffly, winked at you, and went to do as he was told.

dividers by @cafekitsune and @saradika

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #spn #spn smut #spn fanfiction #userwraith

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book-place · 1 year

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Where You Lead

Warnings: mentions of fighting, hunting, weapons and violence, drinking, hints of parental abuse and neglect, cursing, injuries and blood, gunshots wounds, mentions of death let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x sister reader, Sam Winchester x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: Ever since you first came home from the hospital, you and Dean had an unbreakable bond

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Where You Lead I Will Follow by Carole King

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Loving you the way I do

“This is your baby sister, Y/n,” This might be the first time since his mother was alive that Dean had heard his fathers voice be as soft as it was.

“Can I hold her? Please, can I hold her?” Sam begged, bouncing up and down on his toes in anticipation.

“Dean gets to hold her first, Sam,” John scowled slightly, “We talked about this already.”

The- now middle- Winchester sibling stopped jumping immediately and dropped his head slightly, “Sorry,” He mumbled, kicking his shoe slightly against the motel ground.

As gently as humanly possible, nine year old Dean gingerly held you in his arms, supporting your head the way your father had shown him before gazing at you in wonder.

You tossed and turned a little bit in the hospital blanket that was wrapped securely around you, before you blinked your eyes open slightly.

Instead of screaming and crying like he expected you to do, you just stared up at your older brother in the same amazement that he looked over you with; and that amazement soon melted into full adoration on his features.

“Is it my turn yet?” Sam whined, and John finally relented with a small huff.

The hesitation was visible on Dean's face, looking as if it pained him to pass you over to his little brother, something that escaped both Sam and John’s notice.

What John didn’t miss though, was the way his eldest son lingered near you and Sam, looking ready to spring forward at any moment and save you should Sam accidentally drop you.

“She’s fine, Dean, quit hovering.” John told his son gruffly. But for the first time in his life, the boy didn't snap at attention to scramble and do what his father had said. For the first time, he pretended as if he didn’t hear the man as he continued to stare down at you.

I know we’re gonna make it through

“I’ll be back in a couple days, don’t do anything to draw attention to yourselves.” John warned with a small glare before turning on his heel and exiting the motel room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean let out a small breath, glancing over his shoulder to where you sat on Sam’s lap on the crammed couch, both of you engrossed in the cartoon before you.

It had been two years since you were born, and Dean was yet to hear his fathers voice grow soft again, even around you. In fact, John began to try and distance himself from you as much as he could.

He had once confessed to Dean when he was almost black out drunk that it was because he had a child with a woman who wasn’t Mary, and while he and Sam could remind him of his late wife, you did no such thing.

It wasn’t your fault of course, and Dean knew that. He knew that it wasn’t fair for your father to distance himself from you for something you couldn’t control, which would inevitably affect you one way or another eventually.

He walked over to the couch before plopping down onto the small cushion beside the two of you and held out his arms, “Giver ‘er here, Sammy.”

The boy did so, and you giggled slightly at being passed around. You looked up at Dean with a wide smile before turning your attention back to the screen.

A small sigh escaped his lips as he watched over his two siblings, both who were completely oblivious to the fact that John had only left a few cans of food in the room and a very limited amount of money without the certainty of when he would return.

He placed a small kiss on the top of your head. He was going to get you all through this, just like he always did.

And I would go to the ends of the earth

“We asked for a parent or guardian of Y/n Winchester.” The principal raised a single eyebrow as he spoke, eyeing the clearly high school level student.

“I’m her older brother,” Dean grunted with narrowed eyes, “Isn’t that good enough if our father can’t make it?”

The older man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fine, fine. We should get this started, then.” He then beckoned with his hand for you and one of your classmates to come into his office.

You shuffled in, eyes lighting up when you spotted Dean and you hurriedly squealed, rushing over and jumping into his arms, “Hey, sweetheart.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss in your hair.

“What is this about?” The mother of your classmate demanded, shooting daggers at you and your brother from where she sat in a chair a couple feet away.

“I’m afraid we are going to have to suspend the two of them,” The principal spoke.

A look of bewilderment came over Dean's features, “S-suspend? For what? She’s five!”

“Even so, they both must be held accountable for their actions.”

“Which was what, exactly?” He demanded, grip tightening around you protectively.

“The two of them got into a small fight and disrupted the class.” He informed him and the other mom.

“That’s outrageous!” Said mother shrieked, jumping to her feet, “My daughter would never get into a fight!”

“She hit me, I didn’t do anything,” You mumbled into Dean's ear, and he felt his anger begin to boil in his blood.

“Y/n didn’t do anything,” Dean stated, a venomous glint in his eyes as he stared down the mother and the principal.

“Oh?” The woman screeched, whirling around and pointing a finger at him, “And how did you figure that out?” She hissed.

“Because she told me she didn’t,” He said plainly.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes as if he just said the most idiotic thing she’d ever heard, “And how do you know you can believe her?”

Dean stood up immediately, you still clutched to his chest as he glared right back at the older woman, “Because she isn’t lying.” He told her with a dangerous tinge in his tone before simply turning on his heel and striding out of the office.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you buried your face in his shirt, “Thanks, De.” You whispered.

'Cause, darling, to me that's what you're worth

“What the hell is this?” John snapped with a glare, picking up a doll that had gently been set on the table.

Dean swallowed, eyes flitting over to your sleeping form on the bed beside him, your chest rising and falling steadily.

You hadn’t meant to, and Dean knew that. You were only eight, you hadn’t meant to wander out the store with the doll in your grip as if it was already yours and not something you had just picked up off the shelf.

He had been too preoccupied to even notice until the two of you got home, and he had sighed as he watched your eyes fill with tears and your bottom lip wobble as you stared up at him after telling you that it would have to be taken back.

Reluctantly, he had given in and decided that it wouldn’t even matter if you brought it back now, so he had said he would let you keep it this one time if you never did it again.

Of course, Dean couldn’t tell his father that, then he would be angry at you. And your older brother always did everything in his power to shield you from that side of John.

“I-I took it, sir.” Your older brother cleared his throat, glancing up at his fathers raging form, “I wanted to get her a toy to have.”

The older man let out a loud scoff, rolling his eyes, “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because sh-she needs toys,” He tried to sound as confident as he could without his voice wavering again. You needed him, he would not give you up like that, “I thought she needed toys.” He was more confident this time.

John dropped the doll carelessly to the ground with a snarl, “Next time,” He seethed, “Next time I catch you pulling any of this shit, there’s gonna be consequences.”

He was talking to Dean as if he weren’t seventeen years old. As if he were still just a child.

But the boy bit his tongue and nodded his head once, visibly relaxing once his father stomped out of the room. He looked back at you and let a small sigh loose, relieved that you hadn’t woken up.

Carefully, he pulled the blankets higher on your body that had slipped down from some tossing and turning.

Where you lead, I will follow

“Dude,” Sam spoke up, glancing away from his homework for a split second to give Dean a look, “She’s fine.”

The man immediately froze, stopped tapping his foot and snapped his head over to his younger brother, “What?”

“Y/n,” The younger boy's head was already facing the textbook again, “She just went out with a couple friends. You can stop stressing out, she's fine.”

Dean hadn’t even realized that he had eagerly been staring out the motel window, awaiting your return with about as much impatience as a toddler.

“I know that,” He shot back defensively, forcing his muscles to relax from his stiff, upright sitting position and relax against the back of the chair.

Sam looked up again, eyebrows raised so high that they disappeared under his hair, “Oh? You’re not staring at the parking lot as if she didn’t just leave five minutes ago?”

“No,” Dean grumbled, sinking down and crossing his arms over his chest.

A sigh left Sam’s lips, “She’s eleven, dude. And she’s just down the road if you need to get to her.”

“Or if she needs to get to me.” He hadn’t even thought as the words slipped through his lips.

There was a pause, “Yeah… yeah, if she needs to get to you, she can easily do it.” He reassured his older brother.

Despite the clear way the words were forced out, Dean still relaxed for real when he heard them, but didn’t move away from the window as he waited for you to return.

Anywhere that you tell me to

You shuffled through the door, head hung low as you dropped your backpack with a small ‘thud’ beside the table. Sam reached out and rubbed your shoulders comfortingly.

Dean looked over his shoulder from where he was preparing dinner, “Hey, sweetheart, hey Sammy-“ He cut himself off when he caught sight of your defeated look and Sam’s pitying one, “What is it?” He immediately rushed out, “What’s wrong?”

You just sniffled slightly and crossed your arms over your chest, kicking at the floor.

“Sam?” He automatically turned his attention to the boy when you didn’t answer, “What’s wrong?” He demanded again.

John had just dropped the two of you off back at the motel after school before rushing off, saying that the hunt was not over even though he thought it had been.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and right as it did so, you took off towards the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind you, leaving your brothers behind.

“Sam.”

“There’s this father-daughter dance going on for her grade,” He sighed, and it clicked into place right away for Dean.

“Dad couldn’t go?” He asked softly.

“He wouldn’t,” Sam corrected him angrily with a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest, “He told her it was a waste of time.”

All at once, a blinding rage boiled up inside of Dean, one of the only times in his entire life that he was anything but scared of his father. For once, he hated the man.

His thoughts snapped back to the present though when he realized that you were still crying in the bathroom, and he immediately reeled his emotions in. You needed him more than he needed to be angry right now.

With a sigh, he crept over and gently knocked on the door after shooting a swift nod of thanks to Sam’s direction, “N/n?” He called softly, “Sweetheart, it’s me. Can I come in?”

There was a moment of silence before the man heard a slight click of a door being unlocked, and he didn’t hesitate to rush in.

Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were bloodshot in a way that made Dean's heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Oh, n/n,” He cooed, sinking onto the ground beside you and pulling you to his chest, rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly as you cried into his shirt.

He kept whispering comforting words in your ear until you were reduced to sniffles and hiccups that were an effect of after-sobbing.

“D-dad doesn’t want to go with me,” You choked out, clutching a handful of your brother's shirt tightly.

Dean sighed, unsure of what to tell you. Of whether or not he should lie and tell you that your father really did want to go, he was just busy. But he realized that you were now old enough to see right through that.

“I’ll go with you,” As soon as the thought popped into his mind, he hadn’t even given himself a second to process it before blurting it out loud.

You reeled back and stared up at him with wide eyes, “Wha-“

“I’ll go to the father-daughter dance with you,” He shrugged, “I know I’m not dad, but at least you’ll have someone to go with.”

Slowly, a large grin broke out onto your face and you threw yourself into his arms again, squeezing tightly as you let out an excited squeal, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He laughed, hugging you with the same amount of force, “My pleasure, sweetheart.”

If you need, you need me to be with you

“Y/n?” Dean's eyebrows flew up in shock as the smell of alcohol filled his senses.

“Duh,” You slurred, stumbling slightly to stand upright as you made your way into the motel room, “Who else would I be? Bobby?”

“Are you… drunk?” He had to blink a couple of times to help his brain fully process what he was seeing. You, his baby sister, hardly fifteen years old, drunk out of your mind.

“Noo,” You whined, “God, get off my case.”

“Hey,” He stood up, arm wrapping around your waist automatically as you almost fell over your own feet, “Come on,” Gently, he led you over to sit down on the bed.

With a large sigh of relief, you fell onto your back and cuddled into the sheets, “Thanks, dad.” You mumbled.

Dean's eyes were practically bugging out of his head at this point. He swallowed thickly, “Y-you know I’m not dad, right?”

“Well not biololy-“ You paused with furrowed eyebrows, “Beeolog-“

“Biologically?” He filled in the missing word for you, unsure of where you were trying to go with this as he turned on his heel to get you a glass of water.

You snapped your fingers, pointing a lazy finger at him, “Bingo! You might not be my dad biologically, but you’re more of a father to me than John- John is.” Your head was nuzzling into a pillow by now.

He sputtered, practically dropping the glass before setting it down on the bedside table, “That-that’s not true.” He insisted, “You don’t think that.”

“Sober words are drunk thoughts,” You slurred before opening your eyes and pausing to think, “Wait… that’s not right…”

He sighed, picking up the water and coaxing you to sit up so he could give it to you.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” Dean told you softly, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead.

Even after you eventually drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t do so himself. Still trying to wrap his mind around what you said. About if you actually believed your own words.

I will follow where you lead

“Dean.” You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m old enough to go on a date.”

He scowled, sinking further into his chair with his arms crossed, “I disagree,” He grumbled.

“Of course you do,” You sighed before turning back to the bathroom mirror and checking your reflection one last time before stepping out.

“Do you have your gun?” He asked automatically. And if it were anyone else, you would have laughed. But this was your eldest brother, and you knew for a fact that he was dead serious.

“I don’t think I need-“

“Do you have your gun?” He demanded again, glowering from across the room.

“Yes, yes, I have my gun.” You reassured him, lifting up your handbag of where it was resting dramatically to further your point.

Silence rang out between the two of you for a moment, having your own mini stare down, before it was his turn to sigh and stand up before striding across the room to you.

He put his hands on each of your shoulders, looking you in the eye, “I just want what’s best for you.” He told you sincerely.

Your hands went up to gently grasp onto his wrists and squeeze, “I know that, De,” You spoke softly, “But you can’t protect me from everything.”

“I can try,” He replied stubbornly, cracking a smile when you snorted.

Taking your hands off of his, you moved your arms to wrap around his torso and pull him into a tight hug.

He was just about to return it when a knock rang through the room. Your date was at the door.

Slowly, you let go and looked up at your big brother with a smile.

If you're out on the road

“Where’s Sammy when you need him?” You groaned, dropping your head into your arms that rested against the table.

“Shut it,” Dean grumbled, “I can help you just as well as he could.”

You rolled your eyes up to the ceiling, “You’ve failed every math class you’ve ever been in, genius.”

“And who told you that?”

“Sam.” You said in a ‘duh’ tone.

Dean scoffed, “Well, Sammy’s a freaking liar.”

You rose your eyebrows and placed your head in your hand, waiting as his eyes raked up and down the paper.

“Well?” You asked after a few moments.

“Well, this is hard.” He snapped back.

You threw your hands up, “That's why I asked for help!”

He seemed to ponder something for a moment before putting the paper down tentatively, “Math was always stupid anyway. I don’t think it would hurt if you didn’t do this one assignment.”

“So, you’re admitting to not knowing how to do this?”

“…no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“… fine, I failed every math class I’ve ever taken.”

Feeling lonely, and so cold

“You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine.” Dean muttered, not knowing if he was trying to reassure you or himself more as he put so much pressure on the gas that his foot had begun to hurt.

“D-Dean-“ You muttered from the passenger seat, lulling your head to the side to try and face him.

Quickly, he shushed you, doing everything in his power not to focus solely on the crumbled up shirt you were holding against your stomach to try and apply pressure to your wound. He knew if he focused on that for longer than a couple of seconds, he would abandon his mission of getting you straight to a hospital and try to take care of it on his own.

He knew his mind would kick into a protective, frenzy overdrive and he wouldn’t allow himself to wait until he arrived at his destination.

Of course, the one day Sam wasn’t feeling well enough to join the two of you on a hunt- one that was supposed to be so simple that Dean finally- begrudgingly- allowed you to come on, you had gotten shot in the stomach.

As soon as that had happened, everything about the hunt immediately flew as far from Deans mind as humanly possible, even letting the shooter get away in his panicked state as his brain switched to autopilot mode and he scooped you up and rushed you to the car.

Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was-

A violent cough raked through your body, making your older brother visibly flinch as he pressed down harder on the pedal, even if he was already going as fast as he could.

“You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart,” He muttered, harshly blinking away the tears that began to pool in his eye ducts.

All you have to do is call my name

“Dean?” You whispered into the darkness hesitantly.

“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” His eyes immediately snapped open and he flew out of the bed at your nervous tone.

He gently took ahold of each of your shoulders and blinked the sleep away from his eyes as they scanned your face through the darkness for any sign of distress.

“I-I had a nightmare…” You muttered weakly, feeling heat begin to spread to your cheeks as you averted your eyes from your elder brother.

“Oh,” He breathed out, relaxing only slightly when he realized that you were in no immediate danger, “Oh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” He quickly wrapped his arms around you and brought you to his chest.

Your own arms snaked around him in return, burying your face in his chest and allowing him to rock both of you back and forth slightly as he rubbed your back soothingly.

“Can I stay?” You whispered meekly, refusing to look him in the eyes from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

“Of course,” He answered without hesitation, keeping an arm wrapped around you as he gently led you to the bed.

As soon as you were both lying down and under the sheets, you cuddled into your older brothers chest and let out a little sigh of content, “Thank you, De.” You whispered sleepily.

“I have nightmares all the time too,” He whispered after a few moments of silence, “They got worse after you almost died on that hunt.”

You felt his arms tighten around you as he spoke, and you held on just as tight in return.

“We’re okay,” He spoke comfortingly, kissing the top of your head again, “We’re okay.”

And I'll be there on the next train

“I-I need help,” You spoke shakily into the phone, wrapping your free arm tighter around yourself as you spoke.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” Came Dean's determined reply.

No, ‘I told you so’. No, ‘You made this mess, you can get out of it yourself’. No, ‘You shouldn’t have gone in the first place’. Just your selfless, loving brother who was willing to drop everything he was doing because you had made a mistake. Because you had insisted that you could finally go on a solo hunt despite his protests and pleas. Because he had been so scared of a repeat from the last time he had allowed you to go on a hunt. And even that time you were with him, this time you wouldn’t be.

And now you were in over your head and you needed your older brother to bail you out.

“Dean?” You sniffled slightly into your phone, “I’m sorry.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He spoke soothingly.

In the background, you hear the car start as if he had just been sitting in it waiting for your call.

You wouldn’t be surprised. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him.

Where you lead, I will follow

“Sam’s gonna kill us ya’know.” You spoke, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.

“What Sammy doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Dean replied calmly, leaning back against the couch cushions, eyes trained solely on the Scooby-Doo episode.

“We’re supposed to be researching lore about the case,” Even though you said it, you made no effort to turn off the television and go back to work.

“You and I both know that he’ll do all of it anyway,” He reminded you, “Might as well enjoy our time instead of wasting it.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips as you softly shook your head back and forth, folding your legs underneath you and entertaining your brother by watching his favorite show with him.

Anywhere that you tell me to

“How do you mess up making toast?” You yelled over the fire alarm.

“I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know!” Dean's voice boomed back as he wildly jumped around with a towel while trying to fan the smoke out of the room.

Despite his protests, the alarms screeching didn't come to the halt you had hoped for. If anything, it seemed to get even louder.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what happens!” You scolded, “I swear, I feel like I’m the older one sometimes.”

“Just shut it and help me!” He snapped.

You sighed irritatedly, but grabbed a towel anyway and joined in on his efforts of stopping an almost inevitable fire.

It took a while- and a lot more screaming matches- before the alarm finally died down and the only thing that remained from the fire was the ringing in your ears, the faint smell of smoke, and a burnt beyond recognition piece of toast.

“Let’s… let’s not speak of this ever again.” Dean finally huffed out after catching his breath.

A wicked smile made its way onto your face at his words, “In your dreams,” You told him sinisterly.

His face dropped and he looked at you in horror, “Don’t you dare-“

“Oh, Sam,” You sang, practically dancing out of the room.

“Get back here!” The sound of thundering feet coming bounding after you made you squeal and pick up your pace.

If you need, you need me to be with you

“Y/n?” You ferociously wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks when you door was knocked on, “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Dean.” You silently cursed yourself for the small crack in your voice as you spoke. Though you doubted it would even need to be there for your brother to know that something was wrong.

“I’m coming in,” He announced, waiting only a split second to see if you would protest before opening your door and immediately scanning his eyes over you to see what was the matter.

“Hey, hey,” He murmured gently, dropping down in front of where you sat on your bed once he realized you didn’t appear to be in any physical pain, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head when you were unable to speak, averting your eyes from his wide, concerned ones.

“Talk to me,” He pleaded softly. He hated when something was the matter that he didn’t know about, it absolutely killed him.

“It’s just-“ You choked out a small sob, “Why?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he unconsciously swiped a piece of hair from your face, “Why, what, sweetheart?”

Again, you shook your head, “I’m being so stupid-“

“Hey,” He gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him, “Anything making you upset is not stupid. Now what’s wrong?”

“Why can’t we just have a normal life?” His heart dropped, “Why did dad have to drag us into this? We’ve lost so many people because of what we do and I just don’t know if I can take it anymore-“

“Hey, hey,” He shushed you softly, immediately wrapping his arms around you, “Shh, it’s okay, I know. Believe me, sweetheart, I know. It’s not fair. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Dean.” You sniffled, pulling away and wiping your face with your sleeve.

“Still,” Tears began to form in his own eyes and he was forced to harshly blink them away, “I wish more than anything that you could have been spared from this. And I am so damn sorry that you weren’t.”

“I don’t want this for you either, Dean.” You told him softly.

He smiled sadly, “I know, sweetheart, I know. But at least we have each other.”

You were finally able to smile slightly at that, “Yeah, we do. Don’t we?”

I will follow

Humming lightly to yourself, you put the finishing touches on the dish before you and stepped back with your hands on your hips, proudly smiling down at it.

“N/n!” Dean's voice echoed through the halls, “I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!” You echoed back, excitedly jumping to hide the plate behind your back just in time for him to enter.

He entered with a wide smile, “Hey, sweetheart, what’s-“ He froze and eyed you suspiciously, “What are you up to?”

Unable to even attempt to hide your eagerness anymore, you leapt to the side and dramatically put your arms out to the side, “Ta da!” You guestered to the plate you had previously been hiding.

A wide grin automatically broke out onto his face as he came scurrying over to the counter with childlike excitement, “Pie?” He practically squealed, “You made me pie?”

You nodded proudly, putting your hands on your hips.

He rushed over and scooped you in a long hug, spinning you around in a way that made you giggle, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He gushed while gently setting you down, “Have I ever told you that you’re the best sister ever?” He was already taking a fork and shoveling some of it into his mouth.

“I could do with hearing it more often.” You teased.

“You’re the best sister ever!” He cheered, devouring the dessert happily.

Where you lead

The steady rocking of the car did nothing to help your tired state, nor did the music softly drifting out of the speakers and filling the small space effortlessly.

Dean's eyes flitted over to you for a quick second, “You can go to sleep, it’ll be a couple more hours until we get there.” He told you softly.

You shook your head stubbornly despite the yawn you had to bite back, “I wanna stay up with you,” You murmured, unconsciously cuddling up against the seat.

“We had a long day, just get some rest.” He insisted in the same gentle tone.

Finally, you weren’t able to hold back your exhaustion any longer and you practically melted into the cushions, “Fine,” You mumbled, “But only for a few minutes.”

He laughed lightly, reaching over with one hand and ruffling your hair playfully, “Sleep well, sleepyhead.” He teased.

“I love you, De,” You whispered, eyes already drifting shut and your head lulling to rest against the window.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373 @popfishjr @kiyomi-uchiha777

2K notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 4 months

Note

Can you do a Winchester sister fic where she’s overworking herself and the boys are worried and notice her deteriorating but she keeps brushing them off until eventually she passes out on a hunt and won’t wake up and the brothers are protective and very worried

Sleep Is For The Weak

warnings: overworking, exhaustion, fainting/collapse. Pls remember to get sleep and look after yourself lovely :)

Word count: 1.7K

⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤

“Y/N?” Sam blinked at you bleary eyed, staring at you from where he was leaning on the doorframe. You were sitting slumped over your laptop in the library, surrounded by a collection of books that you had scattered around the table and a cold cup of half drank coffee that you were using to try to force yourself awake. Your eyes were drooping closed as you squinted at the screen before you. You had spent the last two nights desperately trying to finish your college assignment that a last minute hunt meant you were behind on, only giving yourself a few hours of rest before starting up again.

Sam took a heavy step toward you rubbing his eyes. He was struggling to get to sleep and so had decided to grab himself a glass of water when he saw the light coming from the library. “Why are you still up?”

You didn’t even glance up at him as you continued to type away, pressing your fingers mindlessly onto the little black keys on your laptop. “Hi Sammy. I need to finish this assignment.”

“Kiddo-” He shook his head. It’s late and this isn’t healthy. You need to sleep.” Sam told you, gripping your shoulders.

You shrugged him off by rolling your shoulders. “Soon. I need to finish this.”

“Y/N.”

“Sam.”

Your brother sighed, rolling his eyes and raising his hands in surrender. “Fine. But don’t blame me if you’re tired tomorrow.”

He turned, leaving you alone to return to your essay. You could hear him shuffling around in the kitchen for a few minutes before his footsteps retreated back down the hallway and you were left in silence again to tap away on the keyboard.

You dragged your feet in slowly through the door to the bunker. After hanging up your jacket and your bag, you hauled yourself down the stairs and made a beeline for the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee. The day had been extremely long; one of those days where everytime you look at the clock it feels like the minute hand has jumped backwards. Running on nearly no sleep hadn’t helped you much at all and you had been running completely on caffeine to keep your head from hitting the desk during class.

As you shuffled into the kitchen and began to fumble around with the coffee maker, you heard Dean gruffly announce his presence by accidentally sending a pot hurtling across the floor and cursing loudly. You winched at the nose.

“You alright there Sweetheart?” He asked, noting your slumped shoulders and droopy eyes. “How was school? Did your assignment go okay?”

You shrugged as you poured the coffee into the mug nearly missing it completely. “It was fine. Got an A on my assignment.”

“That great kiddo, I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you Dean.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Your older brother frowned at you.

“Just tired.”

“I told you.” Sam jested as he entered the kitchen.

“Whatever.”

Dean looked between his two siblings “What’s going on?”

“Y/N stayed up all night writing that essay. And the night before that.”

“Seriously?” He cocked an eyebrow and gave you that look.

“Yes. It needed to be done and I’ve been busy.” You told him. “Besides, I’ll sleep extra well tonight.”

“Make sure you do, kiddo.”

You gave him a reassuring look before leaving the kitchen with your mug gripped in your hands.

“Rest. Y/N.” Dean called after you, and you rolled your eyes.

“I will.”

It was a lie. You knew that, but your brothers didn’t. You still had too much to do in such a short time. You were behind on lore and training because you had been prepping for your assignment. Only after you had caught up would you allow yourself to rest.

You made your way into the shooting range with your pistol in hand. The room was large enough to practise basic sparring and hand to hand combat as well as gun training. Your brothers had equipped the room with sparring mats, punching bags and dummies along with some other equipment that they used for weight training, so the room was more of a gym than a shooting range if you were going to be completely honest.

After spending some time catching up on your basic training and working on some new techniques that you had discovered whilst rooting around the Men of Letters archives you moved on to shooting. You took a swig of your water and wiped the sheen of sweat from your brow before picking up your gun firing relentlessly at the target until you hit the centre enough times that you were satisfied. By the time you were done your hands were trembling ever so slightly as you checked your clock and cursed. It was much later than you thought: it had crept into the early hours of the morning and you knew you would have to be up soon. So, after jumping in the shower you retired to your room to try and get a few short hours in.

You were woken up much earlier than you had hoped you would be. Your brothers had never been that subtle, no matter how hard they tried to be. To your ears anyway, you supposed spending so much time with them would do that to you.

Groggily pulling yourself up, you cracked open the door to see your two brothers sneaking down the hallway with their duffel bags slung over their shoulders.

“Dean?” You asked, sleep still very evident in your voice. It matched perfectly with the dark bags that hung under your eyes.

Dean froze, scrunching his face up before turning and facing you. “Hey Sweetheart…”

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” Dean said automatically trying to ignore the fact that you had caught him.

“Dean.”

“Jody called. Sam and I are going to help her with a hunt.” He admitted, shifting his bag to his other shoulder. The contents rattled and you knew that it was filled with a concoction of weapons.

“And you were just going to leave me here?”

“It’s not far. We were going to be back before lunch. Maybe even before you woke up.”

You stared at him and Sam, hurt.

“I’m coming.” You turned on your heel to grab the bag you kept under your bed for hunts.

You didn’t get far before Dean stopped you. “No you’re not. You need to sleep Y/N. You look like hell.”

“Wow. Thank you, Dean.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No-”

“Dean.” Sam shook his head, looking at your stubborn expression that you were using to try and hide the fact that you were pissed that they were trying to leave you. He nearly second guessed himself when he took in how tired you looked, but he couldn’t leave you on your own again. “Just let her come.”

The eldest Winchester sighed. “Fine. You have five minutes to meet us in the car or we’re leaving without you.”

You were tired. And not just the ‘I haven’t slept more than eight hours total in the last three days’ kind of tired. The kind of tired where all of your muscles ache and your legs feel like jelly, where your vision swarms and your head pounds, wracked with an increasing nausea induced headache. The kind of tired where simply breathing makes your chest hurt and drains all of your energy. By the time the hunt was done you could barely hold the machete in your trembling hands.

Jody had called Sam and Dean to help her hunt a nest of vampires that seemed to be much larger than usual; around 15 vamps and counting. She had stumbled upon it accidentally and with Claire out of state, she felt she needed the help of you and your brothers. Luckily you had reached her in time, but the fight was tiresome and gruesome, and the four of you barely made it away unscathed for the most part. But you were oh so tired…

Swaying on your feet, you blinked away your blurry vision, clutching onto the doorframe of the house to keep yourself upright. Sam had tried to get you to sleep in the car, but with the rough terrain you struggled to drift off and oh boy was it getting to you now. You were surprised your body was even still functioning at this point.

“Y/n/n?” Sam asked, stricken with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” You tried to brush him off, letting go of the wall and taking a step forward “I just need to-”

Your legs gave out completely and you crumpled to the floor, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Y/N!” Dean skidded to your side. “Y/N?!” He shook your shoulders. “Sam!”

Sam patted you lightly on your cheek. “Y/N. Wake up.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t even stir an inch.

“She should be awake by now.”

A quiet voice was barely audible from somewhere in the room. You opened your eyes a peak; just enough to make out two tall figures standing across the room. Your body felt like it had been tossed in the air and then run over by a truck, though you felt less groggy than you remember feeling when-

“Give her time, Dean. Her body was completely exhausted. She needs to rest.”

“She’s been asleep for days, Sam. How much longer is ‘time’?”

You groaned. “Would you two just shut up for two minutes?”

“Y/n?!” Dean moved to the side of your bed joined by his little brother. You smiled tiredly at him, noting the way his stubble seemed to be more unkempt than usual and he had bags under his eyes.

“Hi boys.”

Sammy let out a sigh of relief. “You had us so worried, Kid.”

“Sorry…”

“You gotta take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

That made you laugh a little. “Take your own advice, Winchester.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Touche.”

“But seriously, kiddo.” Sam interjected, wrapping you up in his arms. “You come first, alright. You matter to us more than grades and hunting. When you passed out- the thought of losing you isn’t something we ever want to think about. So you gotta promise that you’ll look after yourself for us.”

“Okay.” You nodded.

“Promise?” Dean stuck out his pinky finger with a childish grin.

You interlocked yours with his. “Promise.”

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 7 months

Text

The Loudest Silence

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You become mute after seeing Sam die in season 2, and it’s something he and Dean have to figure out together when he comes back.

Dean should’ve left you behind. He should’ve gotten there sooner. He should’ve saved Sam. He shouldn’t have let you see your big brother die.

You were sitting by Sam’s bedside, and Dean didn’t have the heart to tear you away. It didn’t feel right, letting you sit there beside your dead brother, but it felt even more wrong to tell you you couldn’t.

You hadn’t spoken, not since it happened, and Dean didn’t have the energy to try to get you to speak. He didn’t feel much like talking now, either, although it seemed different than you. He was grieving; you looked haunted.

“Hey kid.” Dean turned his head to look at you as Bobby walked up to speak with you. Bobby had decided to leave, and Dean refused to go with him, but Dean wanted you to go. You didn’t belong here, you shouldn’t have had to see Sam die, and you shouldn’t be sitting by his body now. You would be better off with Bobby, but Dean needed time to himself.

“Kid, Dean’s gonna stay here for a little while, but I want you to come home with me, alright?”

Bobby got no response. You didn’t even take your eyes off of Sam to look at him.

“Hey.” You flinched as Bobby placed a hand on your shoulder, and finally your eyes met his. “You’re gonna come home with me, ok?” It wasn’t exactly a question; neither Bobby nor Dean was about to let you stay here, but Bobby didn’t exactly want to drag you either, so he was willing to take it slow.

You didn’t speak, but you nodded and stood, one hand coming up to latch onto Bobby’s jacket. He noticed, but didn’t comment.

Dean watched as your eyes lingered on Sam’s body as you followed Bobby outside. Just before the door closed behind you, your gaze shifted to Dean.

He would never be able to forget that haunted look in your eyes.

…

It had been two weeks. Sam had come back not long after his death, but it had been two weeks since you’d spoken.

Once Sam had figured out that he had actually died, he understood your response a bit better, but it was no less troublesome. If Sam was worried about your condition, Dean was beside himself.

As if your sudden silence wasn’t scary enough, you had also glued yourself to Sam. Everywhere he went, you were there, the corner of his jacket fisted in your hand as you shadowed him. Sam didn’t seem to mind at first, but as the days wore on, it became obvious that this may not be a temporary thing. Sam had begun trying to get Dean to help him force you into some healthy distance, but Dean had refused.

Sam didn’t understand, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to force you out of what made you feel safe. It was his fault that you felt this way, after all. He’d let Sam die, and it was his fault that you’d been there to see it. So no, he couldn’t hurt you even more.

“Hey kid,” Bobby said, and you looked up. “How’s about you come with me to the kitchen and we can fix some lunch?”

Bobby had been trying to coax you away from Sam for days, with no luck. Today didn’t seem to be any different as you shook your head, your body unconsciously leaning even closer to Sam as your fingers tightened around his hand.

“N/N,” Sam spoke very gently as he pried his hand carefully out of yours. “How about you go with Bobby, ok? I’ll be right here, won’t move a muscle, I promise.” As soon as his hand was out of yours, you’d moved your hand to his jacket, unwilling to let him put distance between you.

Dean watched the exchange silently, unwilling to participate but hoping that you would listen to the men.

You were quite a long moment, your gaze fixed on Sam as his eyes bore into yours, silently pleading for you to listen. Finally, your fingers went slack on Sam’s jacket, and you turned your attention to Bobby. You gave him a slight nod and held your hand out to him.

Bobby was most certainly not one for hand holding, but after this victory he’d make an exception for you. He closed his fingers around yours and led you into the next room.

“She’s getting better,” Dean said finally.

“It might go faster if you helped,” Sam grunted.

“I don’t want her to feel ganged up on.” Dean’s excuse was a lie, and they both knew it.

But neither man said a word.

…

Sam sat on the edge of his bed, breathing a sigh of relief when you finally fell asleep. He knew it could be a while before he got some time away from you, so he planned on using it wisely.

As soon as Dean stepped into the motel room, Sam practically cornered him.

“We have to talk,” Sam said.

“Alright…” Dean glanced at your sleeping form, then back at Sam. “Why can’t she hear it?”

“She doesn’t have to be a part of this. Dean, how could you do it?” Sam swallowed “how could you…how could sell your soul?”

“You know why.” Dean shook his head. “I wasn’t going to let you stay dead.”

“You can’t mess with death like that!”

“I already did, and we’re not going to change it by talking about it.”

“It’s not just me, you know,” Sam said. “She’s gonna have to watch you die.”

“You think I did this thinking it would hurt her?” Dean shook his head. “I did this for her! You’ve seen what she’s going through now, and that’s with you back! What do you think would’ve happened to her if you stayed dead!”

Both boys were so caught up in their argument that they didn’t see you slip out of bed.

“She could’ve gotten over it,” Sam continued. “But now we all have to go through this all over again, we-“

“I don’t care!” Dean ran a hand over his face, still not noticing as you stepped up behind Sam.

“Exactly!” Sam threw up his hands. “That’s the problem, Dean! You didn’t do this for her, you did it for you!”

“I-“

“No!” Sam interrupted. “No, just shut up!” Sam flinched when he felt your hand touch his arm, and turned to look down at you.

You were staring up at him, eyes wide.

“Not…not you,” Sam’s voice had gone surprisingly quiet, and his features softened into a melancholy expression. “Sweetheart, what I want from you is for you to talk again.”

Your mouth opened, like you were trying to speak, before slowly closing again. You launched yourself forwards, and Sam held you tightly in his arms as you began to cry against him.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know you’re hurting, kid. But I want you to come back to us. You haven’t been the same, and we miss you.”

His argument with Dean was far from over, but this was far more important.

Dean watched his siblings, and he struggled to reign in his emotions when he saw you, still struggling to try to speak. He knew you were trying, and he would never forgive himself for being the cause of it.

“Dean.”

Both brothers were alerted by the sound of your voice, though it was scratchy and near-silent. It was then that Dean noticed your hand, stretching out towards him.

“Hey baby,” he put on a smile for you. “I’m here.”

“Sam.”

Sam smiled when you reached up to play with his hair, the way you had when you were little.

“Hey, you ok?”

“Don’t fight.”

“Yeah, o-ok.” Both brothers knew that Sam’s words were just to appease you, but they were done fighting for the moment. “You feeling better?”

You gave a gesture that was half nod, half shrug, but it was enough.

“Yeah?” Sam smiled. “It-it’s good to hear your voice.”

You looked up at Sam, and his worry eased at seeing the smile on your face.

“I love you.”

Neither brother had to fake their smile at your words.

“Yeah, we love you too.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #spn sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n

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inlovewhithafairytale · 3 months

Text

POV: Your camara roll if you were the Winchester's little sister

#supernatural #supernatural family #supernatural x sister reader #supernatural x little sister reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #the winchester brothers #dean winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #destiel

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rustys-lodge · 3 months

Note

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 ❤️

-----

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 ❤️

#winchester sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #little winchester #sam winchester x sister #sister!reader #daughter!reader #sister x brothers #daughter x father #sam winchester x daughter #dean winchester x daughter!reader #winchester sister!reader #father figure fic

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doctorbitchcrxft · 15 days

Text

Hook Man | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of religious trauma/parental abuse

Word Count: 4869

A/N: Guys. We hit a bit of a milestone earlier in the week. Just wanted to say in celebration that I am so beyond grateful for all of your love and support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Giving big big kisses to all of you!!! Taglist is open!!

Edit: Hey.... I suck I forgot to add the taglist when I published. So sorry!!! fixed now!!!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and Dean were sat at an outdoor cafe; coffee cups in hand. He was clacking away at his laptop while you wrote in your journal. You wrote your excerpt on the shapeshifter next to a drawing of Dean’s necklace.

“Is that…?” Dean asked, pointing to your journal.

You nodded.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” he said.

“No offense, lovebug, but you don’t know much of anything about me,” you retorted.

He scoffed. “Will you take the compliment and be quiet?”

“I didn’t hear a compliment,” you giggled. “Well, maybe in ‘Dean Winchester Land’ it was a compliment.”

“Oh, shut up,” he responded playfully.

Sam hung up the payphone he was standing in and came back over to your table.

“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis,” Dean jabbed at his brother.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” you told him.

“So, anything?” Dean asked Sam.

Sam huffed. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”

“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”

Sam looked disappointed.

“Check this out.” Dean turned his laptop around to you and Sam. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

“Thank god, a short trip,” you sighed.

“ ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road,’ “ Sam read from the article.

“Keep reading.” Dean nodded at his laptop.

“ ‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.’ “

That last line caught your attention. “Could be something interesting.”

“Or it could be nothing at all,” Sam protested. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”

“But what if it is? Dad would check it out,” Dean responded.

***

The one hundred mile drive concluded with the boys dropping you off at a sorority house.

“Remind me why I have to play barbies for the week again?” you asked.

“Because this is Lori Sorensen’s sorority house; the witness from the killing,” Sam replied.

“Great,” you mumbled.

“Have fun making s’mores and singing campfire songs,” Dean remarked.

“Bite me,” you snarked. “You’re going to a frat, though, Steve McQueen, so I wouldn’t be so cocky.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he grumbled.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said and shouldered your duffel bag. You bid them goodbye and reluctantly marched up to the door of the sorority house.

A girl with long, dark curls opened the door. “Hi,” she said. “Can I… help you?”

“Yeah, I’m (Y/N),” you explained. “I’m your sorority sister from Ohio State. Do you guys have an extra bed I could sleep in? I just transferred here.”

“Sure,” she grinned. “I’m Taylor, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”

She led you inside and introduced you to Lori Sorensen. She was a sweet girl; very naive and a little stuck-up. Taylor seemed a little more like a party girl, but still relatively tame. You decided you could gel with these girls for the time being.

They told you they were headed to Sunday service at Lori’s father’s church and invited you to go with them. You obliged.

In the middle of the introductory rites, you heard the heavy church door slam shut. Your head swiveled to find Sam and Dean frozen and looking guilty. You scoffed amusedly and rolled your eyes, turning your attention forward for the rest of the service.

Taylor invited you and Lori out to a party after the service, but Lori said she couldn’t. Her father had dinner with her every Sunday since her mother passed away. She and Taylor hugged and Taylor bid you goodbye before heading off.

Sam and Dean came over to you and Lori.

“Guys!” you said excitedly. “Sam, Dean, this is Lori.” You introduced her to them. “They’re my friends from Ohio. They transferred with me.”

“I saw you inside,” she told them.

“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…”

Dean cut his brother off. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”

You knew where this was going; he was cruising for another hookup.

“I kind of know what you’re going through,” Sam broke back in. “I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”

Lori nodded slightly. Just then, her father came up to your group.

“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). They’re new students.”

Dean shook the reverend’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”

“Thank you very much,” he smiled. “It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied and began leading him away from Sam and Lori. “Actually, we’re looking for a new church group…”

***

Later that day, you and the boys were sitting together in the local library. Sam relayed to you what Lori had told him about the passing of the guy she was with.

“So, you believe her?” Dean asked him.

“I do,” he nodded.

“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smirked at him.

“You think almost everything with a vagina and legs is hot, Dean,” you remarked.

“Not you,” he jabbed back, still smirking.

You clutched a hand to your chest. “I’m hurt, you dick.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Can we focus, please?” Sam broke in. “There’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”

“Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—”

Sam cut you off. “Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.”

“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever,” Dean added. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”

“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began,” said Sam.

“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”

“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?”

You had the librarian bring over boxes of arrest records. The three of you poured through pages upon pages for hours.

“Hey, check this out. 1862,” Sam said finally. “A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’ “

“Get this, the murder weapon?” Dean was looking at another page. “Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.”

You pointed to a page in Sam’s book. “Look where all this happened. Nine Mile Road.”

“Same place where the frat boy was killed,” Sam chimed in.

“Nice job, Dr. Venkamen and Annie Potts. Let’s check it out,” the older brother quipped.

The three of you headed to Nine Mile Road. Dean parked off the road in a clearing in the woods. He popped the trunk and handed Sam a shotgun. “Here you go.”

“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said.

“Yeah, rock salt. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean led the three of you through the clearing.

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?”

“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”

“Cool it, Winchester. You and your daddy aren’t the first people to think of rock salt bullets.” You loaded your own gun with shells of your own.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“They’re a bitch to roll,” you said.

“Oh, one hundred percent,” he remarked.

You suddenly heard rustling in the bushes.

“Over there,” you whispered to Sam. The two of you aimed your guns and cocked it.

The “ghost” came out from behind the trees. A sheriff.

‘Dammit.’

“Put the gun down now!” he yelled. “Now! Put your hands behind your head.”

“Wait, wait, okay!” Dean told him.

You immediately dropped your gun and put your hands up.

“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”

You three obeyed.

“Now get down on your bellies,” he commanded. “Come on, do it!”

“Are you just on a power trip or something? ‘Cause— ah!” you were cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Sam.

The sheriff brought the three of you into the station. It was early the next morning by the time you were able to leave.

“Saved your asses!” Dean jeered. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I am Matlock.”

“How was it that you were left in charge of talking him down?” You raised a brow at him. “And how in the fuck did you do it?”

“Sweetheart, this may surprise you, but I’m good at my job. And I told him Sam was a dumbass pledge, you were his girlfriend we’d dragged along, and we were hazing you.”

You and Sam both recoiled at the idea of dating each other.

“First of all, ew,” you started, “No offense, Sam.”

“None taken.”

“But what about the shotguns?”

“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”

“And he believed you?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You stuck your tongue out at Sam.

Moments later, several officers ran out of the building to their cruisers. Barely needing to share a look with the boys, you hurried into the car and sped away to follow them.

You could see Lori wrapped in a disposable blanket in front of the sorority house you were staying in. You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you had no doubt that it was another murder. The stretcher carrying a body bag rolling out of the front door affirmed that thought seconds later.

Dean parked the Impala around the back of the house.

“Why would the Hook Man come here?” Sam asked as the three of you crept around the building. “This is a long way from Nine Mile Road.”

“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested.

You pulled his arm back seconds later to avoid being seen by your “sorority sisters.” You used the fact that you had now pretty much pulled yourself in front of him to allow you to lead the way up to the second floor.

While Dean made a stupid joke about a naked pillow fight, Sam was busy giving you a boost before climbing up himself. You looked back down at the ground to see Dean struggling to find his footing.

“Need help?” you smirked.

“No,” he grumbled.

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

You waited patiently, leaning your head in your hands on the railing of the balcony and smiling down at him. He struggled for a few more moments before he conceded. All he did was open and close his hand he was extending upwards, similar to a toddler asking to be picked up.

“What’s the magic word?” you sing-songed.

“Come on!” he hissed. “Please?”

“There we go,” you smiled. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled him up.

You then realized the window you were entering was the one in Lori and Taylor’s closet. You hoped to god in that moment that Taylor wasn’t the one dead.

Your fears were realized, however, when you entered Lori and Taylor’s room to find the words “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?” crudely etched into the wall above Taylor’s blood soaked bed. You didn’t exactly get attached to people on hunts, but seeing good people die was never easy for you. It didn’t get easier. Your dad would call you soft, but you always liked to look at your compassion as a strength.

“ ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ That’s right out of the legend,” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean tapped his nose as he spoke. “It’s definitely a spirit.”

“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before,” Sam muttered.

“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked you.

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. Fine. It’s just… look at this symbol.” You were referencing the one beneath the writing. “Does that look familiar to you?”

Your head jerked toward the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly shooed Sam and Dean back into the closet and out of the house. Thankfully, you made it back to the car without being seen. You pulled the copy you’d made at the library of one of the pages on Jacob Karns out of the backseat. That was where you had seen the cross symbol; on Karns’s hook.

You showed it to the boys. “Told ya.”

“Alright, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,” Dean said.

Sam took the page from your hand. “ ‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.’ “ He flicked the page with his finger, looking aggravated; as were you and Dean.

“Super,” the older brother muttered.

“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why,” Sam pointed out.

“I could just be spitballing here, but Lori definitely has something to do with it,” you said, looking up at the sorority house.

***

You managed to get into a party at the fraternity house Sam and Dean were staying in later that night. Dean had been busy mingling with thin college girls dressed in mini skirts while Sam stuck to the outside wall. You bounced around from talking to Sam and hustling some of the drunk frat guys in multiple rounds of pool.

The three of you reunited around the pool table you’d been dominating that night.

“Man, you’ve been holding out on me,” Dean told Sam. “This college thing is awesome!” He smiled and winked at a passing girl.

Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “This wasn’t really my experience.”

“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?”

Sam nodded. You chortled.

“What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?”

“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam unfolded a piece of paper.

“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read.

Your eyebrows knitted together.

“There’s a pattern here,” Sam explained. “In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out— get this— with a sharp instrument.”

“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asked.

“Her dad. Man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” you pointed out. “Maybe this time, though, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his kid.”

“Reverend Sorensen,” Dean tsked. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”

“Maybe it’s like when a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place,” you suggested.

“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”

“Without the reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam chimed in.

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean told his brother.

“What about you?”

Dean looked over to the opposite side of the pool table where the blonde you’d been playing with smiled at him. He reluctantly said, “(Y/N) and I are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.”

“We are? I wanted to play more eight-ball,” you told him.

He looked back over at the blonde, back at you, and shook his head in disappointment. “C’mon. I’m not happy about it either.”

***

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back?” you asked Dean as the two of you trudged through the Old North Cemetery. You were holding shovels and flashlights searching for the grave of Jacob Karns.

He shot you a look.

“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” you laughed. “But seriously. Now that we’re… acquaintances, we should go out to a bar sometime. Preferably one with a pool table.”

“That’d be cool, actually,” he said, smirking at you. “You’re pretty good.”

“What, at pool?”

He nodded. “I could probably still kick your ass, though.”

“You’re on, pretty boy.”

He stopped and turned to you. “Don’t objectify me.”

“What?” you asked, stopping next to him. “You know you’re gorgeous. You frequently use it to your advantage.” You marched on.

You smiled when you heard him mutter, “You are so confusing, woman.”

You walked for a few more minutes before your flashlight landed on a grave marked with that cross symbol from Taylor’s room. “Jackpot.”

You and Dean set to work exhuming Jacob’s corpse. Your back and shoulders ached more and more the deeper you dug. “How fucking far down is six feet?” you remarked breathlessly.

“I don’t know, but next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” he replied.

“Aw, you don’t wanna spend quality time with this cute girl?” you asked playfully.

He eyed you strangely with a lopsided smile.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing. You’re just funny,” he told you.

You smiled back and got back to digging. Your shovel finally hit the wooden box lying below. You broke through it to reveal his corpse. Or at least, what remained of it.

“Hello, preacher,” Dean said. He threw his shovel aside and helped you out of the hole you had dug. After he had climbed out, you poured salt and lighter fluid all over the bones.

“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean threw a match down into the grave.

Your nose twisted up in disgust. “I will never get used to that smell.”

“What, burnt, hundred-year-old preacher? Me neither.”

You and Dean packed up and headed back to the car that was parked in the cemetery’s parking lot. Your body was exhausted.

“Um, weird question,” you started.

He turned to you and threw his shovel and duffel bag in the trunk.

“You think we could sleep in your car for a bit? I’m running on two days of no sleep.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It should all be over now and Sam should be layin’ it down with Lori.”

And so, you did. You stretched out over the backseat, and Dean laid down on the front. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, and strangely, you no longer felt tired. You supposed it was the strangeness of the situation. You were now sharing a somewhat intimate moment with a man you despised just weeks prior. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship with Dean was heading, and that bothered you a bit.

“Dean?”

“Hm.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

***

Four hours of shut-eye later, you felt recharged. You awoke to the sound of Dean’s phone vibrating over which Sam told you to meet him at a hospital.

“Hospital? Why? Is he okay?” you asked Dean, climbing over the front seat to sit shotgun.

“I think so, but he said the reverend’s hurt.”

About fifteen minutes later, you were walking down a long corridor only to be stopped by two cops in wide-brimmed hats.

The sheriffs put a hand to Dean’s chest to stop him.

“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s my brother,” he explained. “Hey! Brother!” he called, waving dorkishly at Sam.

“Let them through.”

“Thanks.”

You and Dean began walking toward Sam, who met you in the middle.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” sighed Sam.

“What the hell happened?”

“Hook Man.”

You looked incredulous. “You saw him?”

“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam responded.

“We did,” you rebutted, confused. “You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”

“It sure as hell looked like him,” Sam returned. “And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”

“Well, duh, he wouldn’t send Hook Man after himself,” you remarked.

“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” He whispered that last part.

“Damn.” You gritted your teeth. “I could see how that could upset her.”

Sam nodded. “She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”

“Ok, so she’s conflicted,” Dean chimed in. “And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?”

“Right,” the younger brother nodded. “Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.”

“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean muttered. “But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?”

“We must’ve missed something,” you said.

“No, we burned everything in that coffin.”

“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked the two of you.

Realization struck you. “Fuck,” you grumbled. “No.”

“Why does that matter?” Dean asked.

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,” Sam told him.

“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.”

“So if we find the hook—”

The three of you finished Sam’s sentence in unison, grinning. “We stop the Hook Man.”

“Well, back to the drawing board,” you said as the three of you began walking away from the reverend’s hospital room.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“Do you know where the hook is?” you raised your eyebrows at him.

He said nothing.

“Exactly,” you giggled.

***

Your next stop was the library for the second time this hunt. As much as you liked to read, obnoxious amounts of research was not your thing. Finally, you thought you’d found something. “Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary. ‘Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.’ “

“Does it mention the hook?” Sam asked you.

“I don’t know. ‘Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church,’ “ you read aloud. “That’s where Lori’s dad preaches.”

“Where Lori lives, too?” Sam asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

“Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past two hundred years,” Dean added.

“Yeah, but I think someone would’ve noticed a blood-stained, silver-handled hook hangin’ around the church or Lori’s house.”

Dean pulled out another book and slapped it down in front of you. “Check the church records.”

Sam pulled the book to sit between the two of you. You and he flipped through pages upon pages of records before he found something. “ ‘St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.’ “ He sighed. “They melted it down. Made it into something else.”

“Goddammit,” you grumbled.

Later that night, you and the boys returned to St. Barnabas Church. Dean shouldered a duffel bag and began leading you to the church. Sam followed close behind.

“Alright, we can’t take any chances,” the older brother began. “Anything silver goes in the fire.”

“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam added.

“Okay, take your pick,” you told him.

“I’ll take the house,” Sam responded.

“Dean and I will take the church, then.”

“We will?” the older brother asked.

“Yup.”

You led Dean up to the church. He called back to his brother. “Hey. Stay out of her underwear drawer.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice and giggled.

You took the top floor of the church while Dean scoured the basement. The two of you, along with Sam, met up in the furnace room.

“I got everything that even looked silver,” Sam told you.

“Better safe than sorry,” Dean said.

Your head turned upward at the sound of footsteps. You could hear Dean taking his gun from his jacket as you grabbed yours.

“Move, move,” Dean told you quietly.

You crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. When you got back to the ground floor, you could see Lori hunched over, her shoulders shaking. You lowered your gun and lightly pushed Sam forward. He shot you a look, but headed over to Lori anyway. You and Dean went back downstairs to continue melting the silver.

“I feel for her,” you said quietly. “I know how much religion can fuck you up.” Silver clanked against the coals in the furnace as you spoke.

Dean turned his head to you. “You do?”

You nodded. “I’ve watched so many people go through crisis after crisis when their loved ones end up dead.”

“Me too,” he said earnestly. “Probably why I don’t pray.”

“Well, it’s a little difficult to believe in a higher power when all day, everyday is blood, guts, and monsters,” you remarked.

He chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve met one religious hunter.”

“I have,” you said. “My mom.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She was somehow still convinced of ‘God’s plan.’ “

“Catholic?”

“Oh, very.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied playfully.

“Yeah, me too,” you smiled. “My dad wasn’t, but, uh, he had his… other issues.”

Before he could ask further questions, you heard commotion upstairs. It sounded like running heading toward the opposite side of the basement.

“C’mon,” Dean urged, sprinting out of the furnace room with his gun in hand. You followed closely behind. You could hear the breaking of boards and slamming of what you assumed were bodies that practically shook the walls that got louder as you got closer. Sam was maneuvering himself behind the Hook Man’s clunkily-moving apparition.

Dean gruffly called to his brother, “Sam, drop!”

His brother obeyed and Dean shot the Hook Man, who disappeared.

“I thought we got all the silver,” you said.

“So did I,” the older brother answered.

“Then why is he still here?” Sam’s voice was frantic.

“Well, maybe we missed something!”

You looked around and noticed Lori’s cross necklace. “Lori, where did you get that chain?”

“My father gave it to me,” she responded nervously.

“Where’d your dad get it?” Sam asked.

“He said it was a church heirloom,” she answered quickly. “He gave it to me when I started school.”

“Is it silver?!”

“Yes!”

Sam ripped the chain off her and threw it to you. You caught it with ease and went to start running back down the hall when the invisible Hook Man started dragging his hook along the wall.

You threw Sam your gun and started running down another corridor you hoped would bring you to the same destination. You could vaguely hear Dean say to his brother, “I’ll cover (Y/N), shoot anything that moves!” before you heard approaching quick footsteps behind you.

You sprinted down winding hallways and thankfully quickly made it to the furnace room. You threw the necklace into the fire and watched as it slowly began to melt. “C’mon, c’mon,” you muttered anxiously. It took longer than you would’ve liked, but the cross broke off the necklace and burned into ash. As soon as it did, you and Dean ran back to the latter’s brother to make sure the ghost was gone. Thankfully, he had, but Sam seemed injured. He was clutching his left shoulder and wincing.

You called the police to the scene and urged them to send an ambulance. They arrived in no time, and Sam was able to get his injury patched up.

“And you saw him, too?” A sheriff was asking you and writing in a notepad. “The man with the hook?”

“Yeah, we all saw him,” you responded. “We fought him off and then he ran.”

“And that’s all?” The sheriff was skeptical.

“Yes, sir.”

“Listen. You and those two boys—”

Dean came up behind you and answered for you. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.”

You laughed at his response. Sam and Lori talking near the ambulance caught your eye. You continued watching them in the rearview mirror once you’d gotten in the backseat of the car. Sam soon left Lori, who looked after him sadly, and stooped down into the car.

“We could stay,” Dean suggested.

You could tell Sam wanted to, but he shook his head. A deflated air had settled over the car, but you knew the younger Winchester wasn’t ready for anything yet. He’d been dating Jessica for a year and a half and had just lost her less than four months ago. You knew he needed more time. The best way you knew to comfort him was to wrap your hands around his shoulders gently, minding his injury, from your place in the backseat. He tensed for a moment, but allowed you to hug him nonetheless. He responded by holding your arm with his good hand. And for a moment, if you closed your eyes, it was almost like hugging Steven again.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernaturals series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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beanzfandoms · 8 months

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Late Night

Dean X Sister! reader X Sam

Description: The youngest Winchester takes care of her brothers after a hunt gone wrong.

Warning: Drinking, mentions of blood

.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°

Dry mud cakes off Dean's boots as he stumbles inside the motel with his siblings. The atmosphere was tense and none of them could even smile to make things better. Sam slouches over himself as he examines the wound in his leg. A hiss comes from his throat as his fingers graze over the tender flesh.

(Y/n) gently places her hand on his arm for comfort. "Let me get you a wet rag and a first aid kit," she coos softly. She walks over to the end of the bed to grab a fresh cloth from her duffle bag. She carries on to the bathroom and finds Dean sitting on top of the marble counter.

He moves his feet slightly so she can access the sink. As she runs the water over the small towel, she notices a beer bottle in between Dean's thighs. "Don't you think it's too late to be drinking," she asks cooly before ringing out the rag. Dean huffs in response and takes a swig of it.

(Y/n) lowers to her knees to reach inside the cabinet. She takes out a decent sized medical box and sets it on the bathroom surface. Taking out a bandage and ointment, she casually lifts her hand to Dean. "I'm not going to pretend that I didn't see your arm bleeding. Give it here."

"I'm fine, go help Sammy," Dean slurs.

"Please."

Eventually, Dean gives in to his sister's soft nature. He rolls up his flannel sleeve to reveal a large cut oozing down his arm. It didn't look deep, but it looked like it hurt like hell.

"I'm going to have to get another rag- do you know what caused this?" (Y/n) questions.

"I ran into a saw blade when we were in the barn," Dean replies.

"Did you check to see if it was rusty?"

"It wasn't."

"Good. No tetanus shot for you today." A ghost of a smile etches on her lips. She places the rag on the wound, making sure to cover the whole infected area. "Clean that up for me, I'm going to get another rag."

Sam managed to get himself out of his dirty blue jeans and into some boxer shorts. His back presses against the headboard of the bed with his legs relaxed out in front of him. "Sorry Sam, I was just making sure Dean took care of his wound. Are you alright?" (Y/n) asks sweetly.

"Yeah. I feel better now that something isn't rubbing against it," Sam sighs out.

"Good. I'll be with you in a moment."

Dean was in the process of trying to wrap the gauze around his arm when (Y/n) made it back to the bathroom. His hands were shaky as he did so and he had to place his feet on the cool tile floor. " Did you put the ointment on?" (Y/n) asks.

"What do you take me for," Dean replies.

"Here. Let me help you," (Y/n) instructs as she takes the bandaging. "Hold out your arm." Soon enough, Dean's arm was securely wrapped. "Is that too tight?"

"Nah, it's fine."

"Great, now clean yourself up. You smell like cow manure. I'm going to help Sammy."

---

"That burns," Sam cries out, biting his lip harshly.

"I'm sorry, but it's the only thing that we have right now- stop that!" (Y/n) barks. Sam quickly lets go of his lip with a scowl. "I'm almost done, just a few more layers."

"I don't know how when we just went out for a supply run a few weeks ago- Charlotte's town sound familiar to you?" Sam retorts with a snap.

"Does watching out for Vermin teeth sound familiar to you?" They glare harshly at each other before smiles crack through their faces. "I'm just going to move your leg a little bit to wrap it, okay? Try not to tense too much," (Y/n) says with a giggle.

Carefully, Sam is allowed to rest his newly swaddled leg. A relieved sigh carries out of Sam's mouth before he glimpses over to his sister. He notices the way her frazzled hair carries across her shoulders messily. A few bruises and scrapes are scattered across her delicate skin. "What you did was very dangerous," He announces after a while.

"I know," (Y/n) acknowledges quietly. "If I didn't do what I did though, we might have had to amputate your leg- I don't think you want that."

"I don't know what we'd do without you," Sam chuckles.

"We would bleed out," Dean's voice conveys from the bathroom doorway.

"What happened to your bottle?" (Y/n) queres.

"It's too late to drink, especially with a kid around."

"Yeah, Sam doesn't really need that right now."

"Are you calling me a child?" Sam interrogates.

"Can I call you both children?" (Y/n) says playfully.

"I'm not a child," Dean retorts in offense.

"I had to help two grown men clean and wrap their wounds because they didn't want to do it themselves," (Y/n) explains with a proud smirk. Both went silent with their argument.

"Toshee," Dean remarks.

"You guys want to watch a movie?" (Y/n) asks, changing the subject. "I like to think we have the right to mellow out for a while."

"I'm down, as long as it isn't thriller. I think we've had enough action for tonight," Sam replies, eyeing his leg.

"Agreed."

#dean winchester x sister reader #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x sister reader #supernatural x sister! reader #fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean x reader x sam #platonic reader #sister reader #fluff

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octoberclidan · 1 year

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Don't Ever Do That Again

Request: Hi! Could you do one where the reader is kidnapped and Dean does everything in his power to get her back? Either they’re already dating or they’re like frenemies. You’re such a great writer!!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Reader takes on a djinn on her own. Sam isn't happy with her going on her own so makes her promise to keep in contact, she goes in on her own and gets captured. Dean and the reader are exes who didn't leave it on good terms, but when Sam tells him that he hasn't heard from her, Dean needs to get to her as fast as he can.

Masterlist

Story

[Y/N] was sitting in a dusty motel room, at a little table just big enough to hold the book she was flicking through, and her laptop which was opened on search results for 'djinn'. The book was one she had borrowed a few months back from Sam Winchester. It was basically like a book version of a hunter's journal, about a page or two description for each monster, god, or supernatural phenomenon. Not super detailed, but it gave a good overview and it had become her go-to resource for figuring out what she was up against. She had arrived in the small town the previous morning, having read about a series of disappearances over the last two weeks. There was a witness account in the local newspaper which had been dismissed as the guy being high on a cocktail of drugs, but his account of his abduction had sounded suspiciously specific, and it was what really caught [Y/N]'s attention. She had gone to visit him in the local hospital and had taken notes, which she was now comparing to her book and what she could find online. She was positive that it was a djinn, something she'd never gone up against before.

Back when she was with Dean, she remembered him telling her about being captured by a djinn, how he thought he was living a life where his wish for Mary to have never died had come true. It turned out that a djinn was keeping him captive, and what he was experiencing had just all been in his head. He told [Y/N] that story several years ago, before their relationship had ended. She had only seen him a handful of times since; the break up had been messy. He blew up at her after a hunt the two of them had been on. It was a simple salt-and-burn, but she had thrown herself between Dean and the ghost, which had flung her against a wall. She broke her arm, and told Dean she was fine, but he didn't listen. He was angry that she'd put herself in front of him, even though he'd do the exact same thing for her. After that incident he had tried keeping her off cases, or tricking her into taking the safest option of every case. It was becoming dangerous for the boys too; Dean would send her off on some 'clue' which he knew would lead her far away from any action, leaving him and Sam to deal with the monster themselves, leaving them one hunter short.

She got fed up with his attitude. She knew he was scared of losing her, but he was scared of losing Sam too and he didn't have any issues with Sam hunting. It felt like he didn't think she was good at hunting, or was more prone to getting hurt than either he or Sam, which wasn't true. [Y/N] had been hunting her whole life, she knew what she was doing. After several weeks of this behaviour, she broke up with him. They argued for hours in his room in the bunker, the room that he had shared with her. They argued loud enough for Sam to hear them from the kitchen. After she stormed out of Dean's room, Sam had begged her not to move out of the bunker. He said there was so much space, so many rooms, that she didn't have to leave. He loved her like a sister, and she loved him like a brother, but she couldn't be around Dean, it was too hard.

Sam texted her all the time, and asked her to help him on hunts whenever Dean was busy with something else. She saw Sam quite regularly on the condition that he wouldn't bring up Dean.

11:02am: Sam: Hey, you working? I think I have a case if you're around?

11:04am: [Y/N]: Hey, I'm actually working a case at the moment. What do you know about djinn?

11:05am: Incoming call from Sam

[Y/N] answered the phone and brought it to her ear. "Hey Sam".

"Hey, you think you have a djinn?"

"I think so. I don't really have any material on it so I'm kinda relying on Google, but yesterday I spoke to a a guy who escaped after being captured last week. What he said matches what I can find about them".

"Who are you working with?"

[Y/N] considered lying, saying she was working with another hunter. Unfortunately Sam knew pretty much every hunter there was. If she said she was hunting with someone, he'd need a name, and there was no doubt he'd check with that hunter to make sure she was telling the truth. It was also unfortunate that no hunter she knew would lie to the legendary Sam Winchester for her.

"You're hunting alone, aren't you?" He pushed when she didn't respond straight away and she sighed.

"Sam, I can handle it, okay?"

"Really? What do you know about djinn?"

"Sam-"

"No, I'm serious, c'mon tell me what you know".

"I know that they feed off people, they put people into a kind of transe".

"Go on".

"Uh, I know you guys have faced them?"

"And how does that help you exactly?" She could hear the irritation in his voice.

"You don't think I'm capable". She said bluntly, he was reminding her a little too much of Dean.

"I think you're smart enough to know that you shouldn't be hunting alone. I don't go hunting on my own, Dean doesn't go hunting on his own". She flinched slightly at the mention of Dean's name. "Give me your location, I'll bring what we have on djinn".

"I'm in Burley, Idaho. You're a two day drive away, I don't have that kind of time to wait around. It's only a matter of time before more people go missing"

"[Y/N]..." He warned.

"You said you had a case of your own?" She heard Sam sigh on the other end of the phone.

"Look, just keep me updated, okay?"

"Okay, I will". She promised. "So what do you know?"

Reluctantly, Sam gave her a detailed account of his experience with djinn. He told her about their poison, how some of them cause hallucinations to make you think your wish has been granted. He explained that if that happened, she would have to die by her own hands within the hallucination to wake up. He also told her about the other type of djinn that prefer their victims to be scared, and that if she gets caught in one of their hallucinations then the only way out is to overcome her fear. She didn't know which one she would find harder to escape. Of course, he also told her that beheading would be the way to go, or else to go to a butchers and ask for lamb's blood to dip her silver knife into. [Y/N] thought this request in the small town she was in would sound suspicious and draw unwanted attention, maybe even alert the djinn to her presence as a hunter, so she decided that beheading would have to do. "Whatever you do, just avoid any physical contact with them. They can poison just by their touch, enough to kill you if they don't want to keep you for feeding off of".

"I'll make sure to keep my distance. Any advice on where it might be? The victim was found on the side of the road, pretty out of it, he didn't remember where he'd come from".

"Have a look for abandoned warehouses, ruins are kinda their thing".

"Okay cool, thanks for your help. I'll text you every few hours okay?"

"Text me every hour, on the hour. If I don't hear from you at that time, I'm coming, and I'll be bringing a very angry Dean". He warned.

"You're forgetting about my rule of not bringing him up". She mumbled, trying to convey her irritation as a warning. "I'll text you every two hours". She compromised.

"Fine, every two hours on the hour. Just please stay safe and text or call if you need anything at all".

"I will Sam, and I appreciate that you care. We'll meet up soon, okay?"

"Okay". He grumbled and they said their goodbyes. [Y/N] turned her attention back to her laptop in search of any abandoned buildings nearby.

***

Sam was in the bunker's archives, trying to find an object that could potentially protect against werewolf bites that he'd read about in one of the Men of Letter's records. The case he'd texted [Y/N] about the previous day had turned out to be nothing, so he was spending his time looking through old artefacts. He was also spending his time waiting for [Y/N]'s text updates, and also Dean's return from a visit to Jody. [Y/N] had kept true to her word and had texted every two hours, excluding over night when she was sleeping. From her last text at noon, she had made a list of potential locations and was currently checking them out one by one. It was nearly 2pm, so he was expecting a text from her any minute with an update. At 2:05 he looked over at his phone, but she hadn't texted. He left it another five minutes before deciding to text her and see what was happening.

2:10pm: Sam: Hey, you forget the 2pm check-in? How's it going? Narrow the locations down yet?

He put the phone down on the desk that he was sitting at and continued to look through some of the boxes he had on it.

2:20pm: Sam: [Y/N], can you give me an update?

By 2:30pm he could no longer concentrate and was anxiously staring at his phone. He decided to call her, but it rang through three times. He left her a voice mail asking her to call him immediately, and put is phone back on the desk. He sat back and ran his hand over his face, before placing it on the desk beside his phone and tapping his fingers nervously. He was so focused on the phone that the sudden voice behind him made him jump.

"Hey Sammy- woah, what's got you all jumpy?" Dean had just wandered into the room. He must have arrived back in the bunker awhile ago, because he was holding a mug of coffee in his hand. He walked over to the desk and had a quick look into one of the boxes. "Looking for something?" He asked, sitting down on the edge of the desk.

"Uh, yeah, just something I read about in a record somewhere". Dean could tell that Sam was distracted by something. He noticed that his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were wider than usual; he looked stressed.

"What's wrong?" He asked. Sam sighed and swallowed before leaning forward and placing his head into his hands.

"You're gonna kill me".

"What? Why? What did you do?" Dean placed his mug down beside him.

"[Y/N]'s working a case. Alone. I asked her to text me every two hours on the hour, but she missed the 2pm check-in and isn't answering". Sam didn't look at Dean, he didn't want to see his expression. Dean had taken a sharp breath in at the mention of [Y/N]'s name, and he felt anger start to bubble up inside of him.

"Hunting alone? And you let her?"

"She's an adult Dean, she can do whatever she wants. I offered to help but she's a two day drive away and said she wouldn't wait".

Dean banged his fist down on the desk and pushed himself up before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him. He had never regretted anything more than his break-up with [Y/N]. She meant the world to him. He admired her as a hunter, he adored her intelligence and bravery, and he had never been so attracted to anyone before he met her. After she broke up with him, he tried to tell himself that it was for the best, that she would be safer. He hoped that since the Winchesters seemed to attract the worst of the worst, any cases she'd find on her own would be less dangerous. He had made Sam promise to make sure that she didn't hunt alone, and so far he had made good on that promise. He was furious that Sam had let her hunt alone. He was marching towards the bunker's garage when Sam caught up behind him.

"Dean-" Sam started and reached his hand for Dean's shoulder, but Dean immediately shook him off and spun around to face him.

"Don't touch me Sam". Dean glared at him. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me she was hunting alone? Why didn't you go to her anyway when you knew she was alone? Did you even call any other hunters to see if there were any nearby? God Sam, I asked you to make me one promise".

"I'm sorry, Dean, okay? Yeah I messed up. She's allowed to make her own decisions though, take her own risks. She doesn't report to us".

"Spoken like a real friend". Dean rolled his eyes at him.

"Jody and Donna have both gone on hunts on their own, you've never reacted like this".

"[Y/N]'s different". Dean looked away from Sam.

"When was the lat time you even spoke to her Dean?" Dean didn't answer, he just turned around and continued walking to the garage.

"Tell me where she is, I'm going to go find her". Sam sighed but jogged to catch up with Dean.

"She's in Burley, Idaho. It's a fifteen hour drive. We won't get there until tomorrow morning even if we just drive straight".

"We're going. You can spend the drive filling me in on what you know and calling other hunters to see if anyone is closer".

***

Sam spent the first hour of the drive calling every hunter who's phone number he had, but none of them were any closer to [Y/N] than he and Dean were. He tried her phone several times too but there was still no answer. He filled Dean in on what he knew, [Y/N] had shared the locations that she was going to check out, so they would check those first.

"I swear Sam, if anything has happened to her..." Dean trailed off and shook his head. His grip on the stirring wheel was turning his knuckles white, and his jaw was clenched. Sam had only seen him this angry on a handful of occasions, and it was never good to be on the receiving end of it. He didn't try to apologise again, he figured it was safest to just keep quiet and stare out of the window.

Nine hours into the drive it was midnight, they had stopped off once earlier for a quick pit stop, and Dean had refused to let Sam take over the driving, insisting on driving the entire way himself. "Dean you'll be exhausted by the time we get there. Just let me drive for a couple of hours, get some rest". Dean glanced over at Sam quickly before gluing his eyes back to the road.

"No".

"You're not gonna be much help to [Y/N] if you're falling asleep. Come on, pull over and swap".

"I said no Sam". Sam sighed and decided to try and get some sleep himself. At least one of them should be alert when they get there.

***

It was 5:30am when Dean pulled up beside the first warehouse on [Y/N]'s list. He didn't see any sign of her car, so he wasn't hopeful that it was the right place. He gave Sam a quick shove to wake him up, and the two of them got out of the car and made their way over to a window. They didn't see any activity, but Sam went towards the door to pick the lock anyway. "What are you doing?" Dean asked as he moved to make his way back to the car.

"I'm gonna check and see if she's inside, what are you doing?"

"We don't have time for that, her car's not here and it doesn't look like anyone has been here in months. We should go to the next one".

"We should make sure, what if she is in here?"

"Fine, you stay here and check. Hot wire a car for yourself, I'm moving to the next location".

"Dean, come on, we should stick together".

"There's no time Sam!" Dean's anger was beginning to degrade into desperation and fear, it was clear on his face and from the tone in his voice. "I'm going to the next warehouse on her list. You can come or you can stay, I don't care". He shrugged and continued his way back to the Impala. Sam looked back at the lock for a moment in contemplation, but he ended up following Dean.

***

The next two warehouses didn't show any signs of activity either, and after a quick look around their perimeters Dean insisted on moving on too, only letting Sam have a quick look inside the second one since the door was open. Dean's heart started racing when he turned the corner to the next one however, and spotted [Y/N]'s car parked off to the side. "She's here". He was out of the car and rushing towards her car faster than Sam could even open his door.

"See anything?" Sam asked and he caught up with Dean.

"No, the car's empty apart from her journal, which she hasn't filled in since yesterday. She must be inside". He said as he closed [Y/N]'s car door.

"Okay, let's think this through".

"You want to waste more time?" Dean's irritation was building back up again now with the adrenaline of knowing he was close adding fuel to the fire.

"I just think we have a better chance of getting to her safely if we don't charge in with just our guns. We'll need blades to cut its head off, so let's go back to the car, get what we need, and make a plan".

Even through his anger Dean knew that Sam was right about this, so the two of them made their way back to the impala to get what they needed. They decided to split up, one go from the front and the other around the back. That way, one of them should be able to catch the djinn by surprise if it was in there. Dean made his way to the front of the building while Sam headed to the back. Dean carefully pushed the door open, noticing there was no lock, and stepped inside. It was quiet, and he was in a large room which was mostly empty apart from a few broken planks of wood and a lot of dust. He quickly looked around to make sure nothing was hidden in the shadows, and made his way to a door on the far side of the room.

He opened the door slightly but stopped when it made a loud creaking. He froze, waiting to hear if he had caused any unwanted attention. When he was met by silence, he continued on cautiously. He walked down a narrow hallway with flickering lights, as quietly as he could. He stopped suddenly when he heard a scream coming from up ahead of him, then immediately ran to its source. He swung a door open to find [Y/N] hunched over on the ground, with a tattooed body and a separate tattooed head lying beside her, a bloody machete loose in her hand. "[Y/N]?" He almost whispered, but she heard him and looked up. Her eyes were read and her cheeks were stained with tears. She looked exhausted and broken, and Dean rushed towards her, falling to his knees and gathering her up in his arms. She was crying, and he held her tight, one arm around her chest and the other on her head, holding her as close as possible. "You're okay, I've got you". He murmured into her hair after kissing the top of her head. He rocked her back and forth as she cried. Sam walked through the door and rushed over to them.

"Is she okay?" He asked, his expression panicked.

"I've got her, you check out the rest of the building and make sure there aren't any more, see if there are more victims too". As much as Sam wanted to see his best friend's face and make sure she was okay for himself, he knew he needed to let Dean have this moment with her. He nodded and left the two of them alone. "Shhh". He stroked her hair as she continued to cry. "You're okay, breathe [Y/N]". She struggled to catch her breath, and she gripped Dean's flannel tight in her fist. "Match your breathing to mine, come on". He turned her around so her back was pressed against his chest and she was sitting between his legs on the ground. He wrapped both of his arms around her and held her against him. "Breathe in when I do, breathe out when I do. I've got you, you're safe". While [Y/N]'s breathing was shaky, she did manage to slow it down and match Dean's.

"D-dean?" She whispered.

"Yeah, I'm here". He leaned his chin on the top of her head.

"I... I had to kill myself". She sniffed. Dean didn't respond straight away, but his grip on her tightened. "I was in a different life. I was with you, we were happy, Sam was there too and he was happy". He closed his eyes as he listened to her. "I knew it wasn't real, we're not happy in real life... we're not together". She whispered the last part and Dean swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. "I remembered Sam saying you have to take your own life to get out of the dream. I had to do it". She sniffed again and reached up to wipe her face. "Dean I don't want to die".

"You're not going to, okay? You're safe. You killed the djinn, it can't hurt you anymore. I'm here, so is Sam, we're gonna take you home". She nodded and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Dean didn't want to let her go just yet, and she was calmed by being held by him.

"Hey". Sam walked back into the room. He crouched down in front of them and smiled at [Y/N] before pushing her hair back off her face.

"Hey". She whispered back to him. He looked up at Dean and shook his head, a signal that there was no one else in the building, alive anyway. Dean nodded back at him, and leaned forward to stand up. Sam helped him pull [Y/N] up as they stood, and she swayed once she was on her feet.

"Woah, let's take it slowly" Sam placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"Here, you get the car started". Dean handed Sam the keys and took his place holding [Y/N] steady. Dean moved in front of her and looked down at her to see that she was struggling to keep her eyes open. "Okay, I'm gonna carry you out, is that alright?"

"I'm tired".

"I know Sweetheart, you've been through a lot. We'll find a motel nearby and we'll have a look at you properly, make sure you're not hurt, then you can sleep, alright?"

"I want to sleep now though".

"You just have to stay awake a little bit longer, we need to make sure you're okay. Can you do that for me?" His hand moved up to her cheek and stroked it, and she leaned into his touch and nodded.

"Am I good to lift you up now?" He asked and she nodded again. He bent down and lifted her up so one hand was under her knees and the other around her shoulders, and she leaned her head against his chest. "Keep those eyes open for me". He kept his eyes on her as he walked out of the warehouse and back to the car. Sam jumped out and opened the back door for him, and he got in still holding [Y/N].

Sam drove to the nearest motel which was only down the road, and got them a room while Dean did his best to check [Y/N] over in the car. Once they had a room, Dean carried her there and gently set her down on one of the beds. "[Y/N], can I take your top off? Just to check for injuries". She nodded, trying very hard to keep her eyes open and also stay balanced sitting up on the bed. "Okay, thank you. Sam can you hold her steady while I have a look?" Sam nodded and knelt down in front of her, holding her waist so she didn't fall over as Dean pulled her top up. Sam looked away, he had seen her without clothes before on various hunts, having stitched her up many times himself, but she didn't need two pairs of eyes on her in this moment. Once Dean was satisfied that there were no hidden injuries, he shrugged off his flannel and helped her into it.

"I'm gonna have a shower then get some sleep, I think we all need it". Sam said as Dean sat down beside [Y/N], holding her steady and allowing Sam to let go. Dean nodded at Sam, and he left them alone again.

"Let's get you out of those jeans and into something more comfortable, I keep spare boxers in my bag, do you want a pair?" He asked her and she nodded, far too tired for any words at this stage. He let her lay back on the bed as he went through the bag that Sam had brought in; an 'emergency supply' bag that they kept in the Impala for situations like these. Dean helped her out of her jeans and into his boxers while Sam showered, and then pulled back the covers on the bed for her and helped her slide under them. She was still awake, though her eyes were now closed. Sam walked out of the shower as Dean was tucking her in, and made his way to the other bed in the room.

"Dean you need sleep too, you drove for almost fifteen hours straight through the night". He said as he pulled back the covers to the bed.

"Stay with me". [Y/N] mumbled and Dean shifted his attention from Sam back to her.

"There's a couch Sweetheart, I can take that". He smiled at her and tucked her hair behind her ear. Even though every part of his being was screaming at him to be close to her, he knew that she wasn't totally with it and he could wake up to her screaming at him tomorrow if she didn't remember this.

"No, please, I need you". He didn't have the will power to deny her request again, so with a quick glance at Sam and Sam's encouraging nod, Dean slid under the sheets beside her. He pulled her close to him, kissing the top of her head.

"Sleep [Y/N], we can talk tomorrow". He whispered. Not long after, all three of them were fast asleep.

***

It was late afternoon before Dean woke up, and he smiled to see that [Y/N] was still in his arms. He glanced over to his side and saw that Sam's bed was empty, so Dean grabbed his phone to see if he'd left a message. There was a text from Sam saying he'd gone out to get some food, which meant it was only Dean and [Y/N] in the room. He lay there with her for several more minutes, just letting himself enjoy her presence. When she started to stir, he began to stroke her back. "Dean?" She looked up at him.

"Hey".

"Hey". She whispered back and looked back down, leaning her head back on his chest.

"Don't ever do that again". His command had no trace of anger in it, it was more of a plea.

"I won't. I'm never going to hunt on my own again. You were right, I'm not good enough".

"No one's good enough to hunt alone Sweetheart. You did manage to hunt down and kill it on your own though, so I guess you were right too, you don't need me protecting you all the time". She looked back up and him and shook her head.

"I do need you. I need Sam too. I miss both of you".

"You think we could give each other a second chance? There is always a place for you back at the bunker". She nodded at him.

"Yeah, I think we could give each other a second chance". She gave him a small smile which drew his attention down to her lips. Without allowing himself to overthink anything, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. To his relief she kissed him back, and he moved one of his hands up into her hair while the other strayed lower on her back, sliding under his flannel and beneath the boxers that she was wearing. She licked his lower lip and he opened his mouth, letting her in. One of her hands was pressed against his chest, holding her up, while she moved her other hand up to his chin to feel his stubble.

After several minutes of kissing and feeling each other again, she pulled back and leaned her forehead against his, allowing them to catch their breaths. "I still love you". She said, feeling her cheeks grow hot. He smiled up at her and pushed her off onto her back before crawling on top of her and pressing his lips to hers again.

"I still love you too".

The end

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