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#sam winchester x older sister reader
superlunar-eclipse · 3 months
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🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ ACROSS THE COUNTRY
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SUMMARY ➤ Dean and Sam, concerned about their missing father, approach their estranged elder sister Y/N, an FBI agent, for help. Despite initial resistance due to past grievances and her current job, Y/N eventually agrees to join them in their search, setting the stage for a journey filled with potential challenges and dangers.
WARNINGS ➤ injury’s, injured Y/N, stabbed wound (to the shoulder), small shard of glass on Y/N’s face and the back of their head, and slight arguing.
CHARACTERS ➤ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N Winchester, mentions of John Winchester, and Adam William (added character)
WORD COUNT ➤ 1,180 words
OTHER ➤ Y/N is a FBI agent, small mention of Y/N being 32 years old, set in season 1, episode 1.
AUTHOR’S NOTE ➤ first fanfic! hopefully dean and sam don’t act too OOC, but lmk if they do!
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"Dad hasn't been home in a few days."
Sam took a deep breath before responding, "So, he's working one of his usual overtime shifts on a 'Miller Time'. It's nothing to worry about. He's bound to stumble back in sooner or later."
Dean glanced down at the cold, hard ground, allowing his eyes to linger there for a moment before looking back up at Sam. His voice was full of concern as he said, "Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days."
Sam’s expression remained stoic, giving away nothing of the worry that was slowly starting to creep in. Jess, who had been quietly observing the exchange, glanced up at him.
"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."
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"I mean, come on. You can't just break into my place in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said, his voice echoing in the silence of the night as he followed Dean down the stairs.
"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I'm not just asking you to hit the road with me. I need you to help me find him." He looked back at Sam, his eyes pleading for understanding.
"I- I don’t understand, why couldn’t you have called Y/N? Isn’t she an FBI agent or something like that?" Sam questioned, his hand reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to halt his progress.
Dean sighed loudly, a sound that echoed throughout the quiet night. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he had whenever he was troubled. "Well I… kinda don’t know where she is…" he admitted shamefully.
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, a clear sign of his confusion. "What do you mean you ‘don’t know where she is’?"
Dean pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Well I don’t know her exact location but I know she’s somewhere in Washington DC or something like that!"
Sam scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. "That’s all the way across the country."
"Well did you want this to go quicker?" Dean shot back defensively.
Sam simply rolled his eyes at Dean.
"Look, are you coming with me or not?" Dean asked, his patience clearly running thin.
"I’m not." Sam said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Why not?" Dean questioned, his frustration clear.
"I swore I was done hunting. For good."
"Come on. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t all bad."
Dean starts heading down the stairs once again, with Sam quickly on his trail.
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"You know, in almost three years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean tried to reason, his voice softening.
Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.
"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find the both of them."
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Y/N, a 32 year old FBI agent, sat in the back of the ambulance as the woman cleaned up her many cuts. Her shoulder had been stabbed by the unsub and her head was smashed into a sheet of glass.
"Alright, you're done." The woman finished cleaning her cuts, placing a bandage on her forehead and applying gauze tape to her wound.
Y/N smiled at the woman and hopped off the ambulance truck.
"Y/N!" someone shouted from the distance. She turned to see her great friend Adam, who was the first one to welcome her to the FBI.
She smiled softly as he gave her a comforting hug, "Ow, my shoulder." Her nose scrunched up in pain.
"Sorry," the corners of his mouth turned up as he let go of her.
Other agents of the FBI walked up to her, thanking her for her bravery. "Thank you for saving that girl's life."
"No problem." She gave them a comforting smile.
The agents walked away to discuss matters with other departments.
Y/N and Adam talked about the case for a little while, before Adam turned his attention to something behind her.
"Hey, do you know those people over there?" He asked.
She turned around to look at the people Adam was pointing at. She tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly as she tried to recognize them.
Why did they look so familiar?
Her face paled when she realized who they were.
"Uhm, yea- yeah I do, I’ll be right back," she stuttered, patting his shoulder reassuringly before she walked away.
"What are you guys doing here and how in the hell did you guys find me?" Y/N whispered-yelled at the two boys, her eyes wide with surprise.
"We need your help," Dean replied simply.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, "Oh, so all of a sudden you both need me after what, three years of not talking to me?"
Dean, with a dramatic flair that was all too typical of him, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Listen-" he began, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.
But she cut him off, her frustration palpable. "Dean, please, I really don’t have time for this," she said, waving a hand dismissively.
Sam, practically silent until now, took a step forward. His eyes critically scanned over her face and body, noting the signs of recent distress. "What happened to your shoulder?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
In response, she lifted a brow and shot him a sarcastic look. "Take a guess, Sam. I’m in the FBI," she said dryly.
He rolled his eyes at her retort. Typical Y/N, he thought, not for the first time.
Dean, who had been silent during their exchange, finally spoke. "Dad’s been missing for a few days, and we… we need you," he stated, his eyes narrowed and serious.
Her reaction was almost immediate. Her jaw tightened, her eyes darkened, her whole demeanor turned defensive. "And why would I want to find him?" she shot back, her voice icy.
He faltered, at a loss for words. He turned away, his gaze landing aimlessly on the nearby crime site.
Now it was Sam’s turn to speak up. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please, we really need you right now," he implored, giving her a puppy-dog look. It was a tactic he used to use all the time when he was younger to get what he wanted.
She looked away from him, her lips pursed, her face screwed up in thought. After a long pause, she finally voiced her question. "How- how long is this going to take?"
Dean was the one to answer. "Four days."
She sighed out loud, a wearied sound that echoed in the silence. "You do realize I have a real job, right?" she asked, a note of exasperation in her voice.
Dean rolled his eyes, a retort already forming on his lips. But before he could speak, Y/N interrupted him.
"Fine, I’ll go with you two," she said, her voice resigned.
Dean smiled lightly, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, Y/N."
And so, they walked together to Dean's car, unaware of the challenges and dangers that lay ahead of them.
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mlovesstories · 2 years
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So Close
WC: 630
Summary: YN does not like being sick... or being told how to recover by her big brothers.  
AN- Some fluff for @percywinchester27!
Warnings: Sickness
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“Hey, kiddo.” Sam walked in from the front door of the house.  
“Hey,” his little sister grunted in reply.  Without looking up at him, she continued eating her soup. 
“You okay?” He set his keys and wallet on the side table before walking toward her.  
“Yep.” YN shrugged. 
That night, Sam and Dean were drinking beers on the couch after she went to bed.  
“What was up with YN today?  She was off.” Sam took a swig of his drink and looked over at his older brother.  
“She was pretty quiet now that you say that.” 
“I know I’ve been gone a lot with work, am I missing something?” 
“She’s been stressed, but not out of the ordinary.” Dean responded.  
“Hmm.” Sam pondered.  
The next day, YN was heard groaning from across the house.  
“YNN?” Sam knocked on her door.  
“Yeah?” He heard a grumble. 
As he entered, he saw her- uncomfortable and obviously sick.  
“YNN?” He scanned her over, seeing her blankets piled on top of her, 7Up on her table, and a red face. 
“Not feeling well.” 
“Well, I can see that now.  No wonder you were to yourself yesterday.” He walked into her room and touched her forehead.  “Fever.  I’ll get you a cold rag.  No hunts until you’re one hundred percent better.” 
“I’ll be fine.” YN rasped barely a whisper.  
“No hunts.  Not until you’re over this.” 
YN rolled her eyes after he exited the room.  
When Sam came back in, he handed her a wet washcloth and took off some of her covers.
“No,” YN whined. 
“You have to get your fever down.  You want to get back to normal? You have to start feeling better.  Do you need anything?” 
“No, she adjusted herself in her bed to a more comfortable position.  
“Text me if you need anything.”
“Okay,” YN sighed.  
Sam swore that YN was a miniature Dean when she was sick.  She was fussy, stubborn, and refused to follow directions.  Sam finally left her alone to fend for herself, only checking on her to see if she had eaten the food her older brother brought for her.  
“What are you doing out of bed?” Dean walked by her room and backtracked when he saw her throwing on a jacket with her boots in-hand.  
“Garth called, there is a case in-” 
“No.” He blocked her way out of her bedroom.  “Lie down and stay there.  No one is going anywhere.” 
“Dean, I’m fine.”
“Woah!” Dean caught her as she leaned toward him, dizzy.  “Yes, we are staying home until you can stand on your own two feet and a little longer.” 
YN leaned into Dean’s chest for support.  Squeezing her eyes shut, she controlled her rapid breathing. 
“Okay.  Okay.  I promise.” 
“Let’s get you back to bed.  And take the jacket off, you’re too warm.” Dean escorted her across the room to her bed.  He helped her sit down steadily before putting his hand out to accept the jacket.  
“Whatever,” she said defeatedly.  As YN peeled off the piece of clothing, Dean walked over to the bathroom door and turned off the light that had been on.  He retrieved her jacket and walked toward the door with it.  
“That’s too small for you, what are you going to do with it?” 
“I’m keeping it so that you don’t wear it.  You have to cool your body down.  Relax, we got nowhere to be.  I’ll call Garth and have someone else take the hunt.” 
“Ugh,” YN flopped back onto her pillow.  
“Did you hear me?” Dean stared at her.  
“Yeah,” she said flippantly. 
“Yes sir,” he growled, stating the response he wanted. 
She rolled her eyes. 
“Yes sir.” 
Dean kissed her forehead and closed her door.
“So close,” YN sighed and gave in to sleep.
Forevers: 
@katymacsupernatural  @unicornblood4ever  
@fangirl-moment-x  @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl
@super100012  @percywinchester27  @waywardsuns  @supernatural-jackles  
@mcallmestiles @sdavid09  @kingandrear  @bellero @skylarraker
@seality​​​​​ @jaycc7983​​​ @luci-in-trenchcoats​​​
@cherryblossomflowers​​ @because-you-never-know-when​
@sleepylunarwolf​ @choosemyname​
@internationalmusicteacher​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​
@encounterthepast​  @torn-and-frayed​
@giggles1026​ @xiumin-girl99​
@mangueweaschester​
@idksupernatural​  @silverstripe101a​
@thevelvetseries​ @samsgirl93​   @supernatural3002​ *
* @breereadsthings​ *
@vicmc624​ @hookedinto-fictionalworlds​   @beatifuldisaster018​
@miraclesoflove​ @myopiamystical​ 
@waywardnewcomer​  
@akshi8278​  
@metalfangirl​ @squirrelnotsam
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months
Text
Protector
Requested by @captaincvans
Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader
Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector
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It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.
“Who is this? How did you get this number?”
“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”
To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.
“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”
“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.
Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.
He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.
Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.
So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.
A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.
So you stayed behind.
But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.
“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“
“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”
“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”
“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”
“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.
“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”
Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.
“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.
“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”
“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”
The screaming stopped again.
“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”
“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“
“I think we’re done here.”
The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.
“We got a location.”
Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.
“Finally, let’s go.”
“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”
“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.
“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”
“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.
“The plan is get her back.”
You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.
However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.
Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.
“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“
Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.
“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.
“Dean?”
Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.
“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”
“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.
There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.
“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.
Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.
“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.
“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”
Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.
“Alright, I’ll drive.”
“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.
“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.
“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.
“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.
“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”
Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.
“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”
You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.
“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”
Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.
“You…but you were gone for three days.”
“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.
“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”
You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.
“Dean, it’s not your fault.”
He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.
“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.
“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”
“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“
“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”
“Then say it.”
Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.
“I’m ok,” you insisted.
“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.
Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.
He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.
You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.
The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.
“I’m so sorry,” he choked.
You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.
“I’m ok.”
You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.
So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.
You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.
“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.
“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.
After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.
He was your protector, always.
But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.
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book-place · 1 year
Text
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
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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
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little-diable · 10 days
Text
My Greatest Fear - Dean Winchester (smut)
Don't say I didn't warn y'all. Inspired by Benson Boone's new song "My Greatest Fear". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Dean broke things off with the reader years ago, the biggest mistake of his life. But when Sam tells his brother that (y/n) is getting married, Dean knows it's time to make things right. He won't leave this life behind without being able to call her his once again.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho, reader is a runaway bride
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)
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Got a lot on my mind that keeps me up at night, I’m tossing and turning, thinking that my life’s gone to waste
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Dean shot the waitress a big smile as she placed his breakfast down, blushing as the handsome man winked at her. The older Winchester brother was too focused on his food to pick up on the uneasiness radiating off Sam, to focus on the sadness swimming in his brother’s pupils. 
“Fuck, that’s good.” Dean’s moans rumbled through him as he ate the greasy deliciousness, sipping on his coffee every now and then. It took him a while to lift his gaze, to allow his green eyes to focus on Sam’s untouched breakfast, forcing Dean’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “Not hungry? Shouldn’t you eat something after a long run?” 
“Mhm,” Sam’s eyes were focused on the window, unable to look at his brother any longer. His heart clenched in his chest, his mind was racing faster than it had in the past months, struggling to part his lips. 
“Sam,” Dean’s raspy voice forced Sam’s eyes back towards his older brother, unable to hold eye contact for long. “What’s wrong?” 
Dean had put down his breakfast burger while taking another sip of coffee. He patiently waited for Sam to speak, to spill whatever was visibly plaguing him. But Sam kept quiet, deeply inhaling as if he had to muster the strength to speak. Dean repeated his brother’s name, much quieter this time around, gentle almost – as if he had finally realised that whatever Sam was about to speak would hurt them both. 
“I received an email this morning.” It was a whisper, nothing more, words so obscurely simple that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. But Sam didn’t give in, killing Dean’s hope that Sam was simply fucking with him. Something heavy was about to claw through Sam, something heavy that could determine the outcome of this very day. “It was from Mary, (y/n)’s sister.”
Now it was on Dean to freeze, not expecting his brother to speak her name. Their eyes met, urging Sam to keep on speaking, to tell his brother about the email he had opened with shaky fingers, freezing in his step as he read the words she had written to him. 
“(Y/n)’s getting married, Dean.” Sam was forced to watch Dean sink back into the seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, uneasy eyes staring down at the table. And for a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the words sink in – words that had been Dean’s greatest fear ever since he had left her all these years ago. 
He had been stupid back then, too childish for his own good. Guided by his father’s words, he had dropped (y/n) and the life they could have lived together. His father had made pretty promises, telling his young son of women awaiting him, women he shouldn’t miss out on because of a marriage that would only tie him to (y/n), away from all the fun he could experience. The greatest mistake of his life, a mistake he hated himself for every single day. 
“That’s good for her. I’m happy she found somebody who treats her right.” The words pained Dean to speak, rolling off his tongue with a sharp edge that left Sam cringing. His hand found Dean’s forearm, gently squeezing his brother’s arm in a gesture so unfamiliar, Dean had to stop himself from shaking off Sam’s hand. 
“Dean, I’ve always loved her like a sister, I only want what’s best for her. But you’re my brother, I know how much not having her around scars you, I see it every day on your face. Get her back, try it at least.” 
Of all the things that I've been afraid to lose, my greatest fear of all is losing you
……
“I shouldn’t do this.” They were parked in front of the small church, eyes watching the big crowd of unfamiliar faces. Both Dean and Sam were wearing a suit, knowing that they had to blend in with the wedding guests to find their way to (y/n). “Why should she take me back? Why should she even listen to me?”
“Dean, if there is one thing I know it’s that she still loves you. Let’s get your girl back.” Sam was first to step out into the warm morning, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as they walked up to the crowd. He felt Dean close, not daring to speak up with his choked-up throat, with his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that this would be his only shot to make things right for once in his life. 
“Mary!” Sam’s voice echoed through the air, eyes focused on the frame of (y/n)’s sister. The young woman flung herself into Sam’s open arms, chuckling into his neck as he held her close for a moment. A moment too long for Dean who was growing more antsy with every passing second. 
“Thank you for coming. She’s making a mistake, Sam. You’re my only hope with this.” The words left Dean frozen, confused eyes flickering between his brother and Mary. He hadn’t read the email Mary had sent to Sam, hadn’t asked any further questions about the man (y/n) was about to marry, trusting that he was somebody she loved. “Come, I’ll bring you to her.”
“What the fuck man?” Dean growled the words at Sam as he followed them through the crowd and towards a small house built near the church. Sam fell into pace with his brother, watching Mary lead them towards the place where (y/n) was currently getting ready. 
“Well, you didn’t think I’d let you do this without knowing (y/n) would willingly leave her fiancé, did you? I wouldn’t destroy her happiness just like that, Dean.” Realistically, Dean should have known that Sam wouldn’t just push him into this without knowing that there was a chance to get her back. Sam had hated him for a while after he had left (y/n), punishing Dean for breaking her heart at any given chance, a broken bond that had needed months to be repaired. 
“(Y/n)? I brought two special guests.” Mary’s voice echoed through the small cabin, ringing in the brother’s ears as they waited outside. Dean felt his hands tremble, forced to let go of deep exhales as Mary opened the door for them, allowing them to step inside. His eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s like a moth to a flame, and his world stopped spinning, unable to focus on anything but her.
It took (y/n) a second to react, seemingly confused about the appearance of the two hunters she hadn’t seen in years. She was pulled into a hug by Sam, giving Dean another moment to admire her, the white dress she wore – a sight he had only seen in his dreams, imagining this very day, with him waiting at the altar for her. Dreams that had evaporated into a hazy nothingness the day he had left her. 
“Hi, sweetheart.” She sank into Dean’s grasp, clinging to him as if he hadn’t been the man who had broken her heart all these years ago. He watched his brother and Mary leave the cabin, giving the two some time alone as they kept on holding one another. 
“What are you doing here, Dean?” (Y/n) mumbled the words against the fabric of his suit jacket, not caring about smudging her make-up, not caring about anything but the way Dean held her close – as if he hadn’t ever stopped holding her. Carefully, Dean let her go, needing to give them some distance for the words he was about to speak, knowing that this could escalate any moment now. 
“I can’t let you marry another man without telling you that leaving you was my greatest mistake. A life without you has always been my biggest fear, I was stupid, so fucking stupid, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have listened to Dad, I should have married you right that day. And I hate myself for not doing it, for letting you go when you have always been my whole world. I know there is no chance for me to make things right, and even though Sammy and Mary hope that I will sweep you off of your feet and bring you back home to us, I know I can’t.” Tears dripped from her eyes, tears (y/n) didn’t care to wipe away. 
“I hated you for years, you broke me, Dean. You took away my life, my friends, the people I had grown to love. You ripped my heart right out of my chest, and even though I tried to fight for it, to regain its strength, I miserably failed. I should curse you, should tell you to fuck off and never show your face to me again. But I can’t. For Christ’s sake, Dean. What are we doing here?” He cupped her face with shaking fingers, letting his forest-green eyes run over her gorgeous face. 
“I want to kill him for getting a chance to love you, time that has been wasted because of me. But I don’t want to take another choice from you. If you want to marry him, I will watch from the first row, hell, I’ll even carry your veil.” His voice shook as he whispered the words, growing tense as (y/n) rested her hands on top of his, still cupping her cheeks.
“And if I don’t want to marry him?” 
……
I'm scared to take another picture of you, 'cause I'm scared to have another thing that I can lose, oh, dear, who am I without you here?
“I thought you were taking me home, where are we going?” Her laughter echoed through Baby, eyes set on Dean’s grinning features. They had left the church a while ago, running away like she had secretly hoped they would. (Y/n) had always been a dreamer, a dreamer who had pictured that very moment since the day it had dawned on her – about to marry a man she didn’t love. A man who wasn’t Dean Winchester. 
“We’ve got another thing to take care of first, I am not losing any more time.” Baby screeched to a halt in front of a pink church, a sight that left (y/n) confused, and Dean and Sam chuckling. They made their way into the church, with her fingers interlaced with Dean’s, with her white wedding gown clinging to her frame, with his suit hugging his frame. 
“Dean, Sam, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you two around here!” An elderly man greeted them with a big smile. His brown eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s almost instantly, with a knowing smile growing on his lips – a smile that had an almost proud touch to it. “That’s her, huh? Took you quite some time, didn’t it.” “(Y/n), that’s Danny, an old friend of ours we met on a hunt. He could wed us, with Sammy as our witness, if you’ll have me.” Her heart had stopped beating, skipping a few beats as Dean’s words sank in. Her teary eyes found his and with a laugh clawing through her, she pressed a kiss to his lips, drawing a groan out of Dean, who tried to prolong the kiss for as long as possible. 
“I will always have you, Dean.” She was pulled towards the altar, unable to stop her tears from dripping as Danny began speaking a prayer she paid no attention to. All (y/n) could do was study Dean, the love swimming in his pupils, the way he looked at her as if she was his sun, alighting the darkest days with her mere presence. A soul crafted for his to hold onto, to love till their time together would eventually run out. 
“Do you have any rings?” Danny’s soft voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, about to whisper a soft, disappointed “No”, but before she could even part her lips, Sam excitedly spoke up. Her eyes watched the tall Winchester brother, how he reached for his breast pocket to expose a small envelope to her glassy eyes. Wordlessly he pushed it towards Dean, who opened it with an unwavering smile stuck to his lips. 
“I bought these rings years ago, sure to eventually push yours down on your finger. I am sorry it took me this long.” Her sob left Dean chuckling, exposing his also teary eyes to hers. She had held onto all these longings for years, mere dreams that were now finally turning real – as if she was just sleeping through another longing. 
But, you're here, now, and that makes it better, somehow
……
“Let me.” Dean’s soft voice filled his bedroom. He was standing behind (y/n), carefully helping her out of her wedding dress with his gaze focused on the ring clinging to his finger. The past hours had flown by all too quickly, turning her from a runaway bride into his wife. His wife. A title so unfamiliar, Dean had to fight against the urge to pinch himself.
His for eternity. His to love. His to worship. 
“I love you, Dean.” (Y/n) whispered her words as she stepped out of her dress, exposing her underwear-clad frame to his hungry eyes. She was pulled into a teeth-chasing kiss, a kiss dripping with emotions that made her feel all too dizzy, having to hold onto Dean before she could be ripped into another dimension. 
“I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m so fucking sorry for missing out on this for years.” He pressed her down on the mattress, giving her a show as he slowly undressed. Her body was aching for him, needing to feel Dean close after all these long years apart. 
“Stop apologising with words and show me that you truly mean them.” His lips kissed her chest, the valley between her breasts as he undid her bra, exposing her hardening nipples to his twinkling eyes. Dean could cum just from the sight of her naked frame, a sight he had only seen in his dreams for the past years, not daring to imagine being this fortunate again. 
“God, you’re so beautiful. I promise to worship you for as long as you want me to.” Dean’s raspy words vibrated on her skin, covering her body with goosebumps as he kneaded her soft flesh. His cock was pressed against her clothed heat, drawing moans from her whenever he moved against her heat, desperate for the kind of friction that left them both trembling.
“I need you inside of me, Dean.” Her raspy whispers left him groaning against her skin as she raised her hips to help him pull her damp panties down her legs. Just this morning, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, knowing that she’d think of Dean when her husband touched her, a loveless marriage she would have been trapped in. 
“Are you still on birth control?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, mind taken up by the feeling of his wandering hands, keeping her pressed against him. Dean's cock twitched against her naked cunt, brushing through her arousal-covered folds to coat himself, “I love you, and I’ll do my best to prove it to you for the rest of our lives.”
“I love you too, Dean.” He pushed into her with a groan, forehead falling against hers as she fluttered around him. It felt as if he had entered paradise, falling to rest on clouds covering his body. She was his Elysium, his safe haven, the one where Dean could be the truest version of himself. 
He moved slowly at first, both needed some time to adjust to one another after all these years, but the second their bodies relaxed, properly enjoying one another’s closeness, Dean began to move faster. Their bodies met with every thrust, eyes holding a contact so intense, (y/n) feared her heart would explode right in her chest. 
Dean was taking his time with her, this wasn’t a rushed fuck to make up for all the time lost, no, it was so much more. This was the purest form of love, a one-of-a-kind love both had clung to in lonely nights, with wandering minds and trembling hands. This is what they had been destined to have, years ago – a love they were now rediscovering. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He felt her clenching around his cock, drawing another gritty sound out of Dean. (Y/n) was long gone, pushed into another dimension where she only knew Dean, nothing but his love, his touch, his irrevocable longing for her. Sensations she was taken hostage by, unable to shake them. 
His warm fingertips found her pulsing bundle, circling it with just enough pressure to draw his name out of her. (Y/n) could feel her orgasm slithering its way up her body, whispering to her to hold onto her husband, and with her fingernails clawed into Dean’s shoulders, she came. He followed her right down the edge, moaning against her lips as their bodies were moulded together. 
“Fuck, we’ll have to do that all through the night, husband.” (Y/n) whispered the words as a few heavy pants left her, making a laugh claw out of Dean who chased her slightly swollen lips for another kiss. 
“Trust me, I won’t let you leave our bed for weeks, wife.” 
Don't know how the broken pieces fit together if you leave it, so, don't go, don't go, I would take your hand if I could reach it
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bunnysbrainrot · 2 months
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Sinners - Teaser
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Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader
Content: Explicit sexual content, teasing, more kinks and details to come with the full version, nothing too warning-worthy right now?
Summary: Disguised as a priest and nun on a case, time alone with Sam back at your motel is everything but holy. The taboo of your situation has Sam dealing with some… impure thoughts. Will Sam be able to contain himself?
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In the past few weeks you and the Winchesters uncovered some suspicious deaths in a remote area of Georgia. The locations of the tragedies spanned over 50 miles apart, meaning that the team had to split up to cover more ground. Dean had split from you and Sam two days ago, and the night before in the motel had been fairly normal. It seemed like Dean did this on purpose; you had drunkenly admitted to him of your affection for his younger brother.
Whether or not Sam knew of this, you had no clue. And now in your nun getup, it was all too fitting that you began to pray that Sam was unaware. The two of you calmly made your way past the yellow police tape, preparing warm smiles for a victim’s family.
Sam knocked on the door, letting out a bated breath. Weren’t nuns supposed to dress modestly? Your outfit was the proper attire, but the way it hugged your curves left too much to Sam’s imagination. It was his turn to pray that it didn’t stir too much in him, to let him keep his composure.
An older man answered the door, his expression easing at the sight of your attire. Turns out this costume was better received than you thought. You had to channel your tone and proper verbiage before speaking.
“Apologies for showing up unannounced, Mr. Peters. I’m Father Jeremy, and this is our sister from a local church.” Sam waved a hand for you to introduce yourself.
You chose to use your name, seeing that this was your first nun-appearance.
“We’re here on behalf of the church to offer support for your family, but we also have a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.”
Hopefully there were no questions about the nearest Catholic church, otherwise this whole façade would crumble. Mr. Peters’ face only softened further.
“I’m glad you’re here, Father, Sister,” he addressed you with a sad smile, “Please, come in.”
Sam stepped in first, using a beckoning finger behind him to have you follow him. The house was modest, but eloquently decorated. You recalled the murder that had happened, that brought you to this town, and shuddered. Mr. Peters’ daughter had been brutally murdered and discarded in a creek, signs indicating the presence of a vampire. Their daughter had been missing for two weeks before the time of death, which is what you and Sam aimed to discover.
“Mr. Peters, we are part of a youth outreach program at the church. Our aim is to help troubled youth, with restorative services and social connection. We were wondering if your daughter had any odd behaviors before she went missing. Perhaps she became more secluded?”
The man looked confused at first, “Odd behavior?”
Sam gave a small nod, “We notice that teenagers in need of help oftentimes become more distant with their families. Our goal is to provide better services to our youth, which does include finding the source issue.”
Mr. Peters have a small background of his daughter, admitting that she had become distant with the family. Not just that, but her anger had only worsened, amongst several harmful habits. It wasn’t uncommon for teens to become immersed in the occult and all things dark, but being surrounded by the wrong people can lead to harmful connections.
“I see,” Sam started, “and do you know what kind of people she was surrounding herself with?”
Another confused look from Mr. Peters.
You added, “This way, we’re able to identify warning signs - things to be wary of as our youth members meet new people.”
This seemed to clear things up, bringing out a detailed recount of his daughter’s recent social group. But, their social media had been recently deleted, preventing the family from getting their closure. As far as they knew, their daughter had made new friends, ran from home, and was found brutally murdered.
Sam’s eyes darted to you when you shifted in your seat, the fabric of your black dress sliding gracefully along your thighs. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but seeing you dressed up like this sent his mind spinning. The last thing he should be thinking of is taking you dressed like this, but he couldn’t shake it. His mind raced of scenarios the two of you could create, each one dirtier than the last.
But right now, the task at hand was covering the tightness of his pants. He leaned forward, the broad muscles of his arms flexing beneath his black shirt. Blush creeped onto your cheeks, much to the attention of Mr. Peters, who looked at you with concern.
“Sister, are you feeling alright?”
You nodded and gave a small wave, “Oh, I’m fine. Just a little warm is all. I apologize.”
Mr. Peters stood, “No need to apologize, let me get you some cold water. I’ll only be one moment.”
The room had gone oddly quiet paired with Sam’s intent stare at your face. You turned to find a concerned Sam inspecting you fully.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked softly.
A slight nod, “Yeah, it’s just stuffy in this outfit.”
“Well, once we’re back at the motel we can get you out of it.”
A beat later Sam realized how that sounded. He tried to backtrack, but Mr. Peters had already returned with your glass of water, which you gratefully sipped on. It took everything in your power to resist the images that came to mind. Sam’s hands roaming your body, stripping that baggy dress off of your body, his mouth finding every nook and cranny of your neck.
Sam seemed to have taken over the conversation for the last few moments before standing. Mr. Peters had already given a short list of his daughter’s friends, and their usual hang-out spots. Your attention snapped back to reality; you placed the water glass down with a small thank you, being pulled up by Sam.
His hand could practically wrap the entirety of your arm, his grip stable and warm. Goosebumps rose on your arms, brushing against the tough fabric of your dress. The air outside carried the comfort of fall, the breeze being cool and refreshing on your hot cheeks.
At the car, Sam reached for your door to open it for you, something completely new to the both of you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes. The movements he made to reach the handle had pulled your bodies dangerously close, fully brush against his chest, pressed into the car. A inexplicable scenario that would raise a few eyebrows, for certain.
“Sorry, I just didn’t want you to trip on your dress,” breathed Sam.
Honestly, he was thankful for the little slip up - being this close to you had been a wish of his, but there had never been any excuse for it to happen. Your focus shifted from his soft, hazel eyes down to his parted lips. Sam’s attention shifted to your lips, lowering to your chest for a split second. A selfish move on his part, but the damage had already been done.
Your hand fumbled for the door handle, fingers sliding over his own. The two of you shared another longing glance before getting you into the car. Sam tucked in loose bits of your dress so the door wouldn’t snag on them.
“Alright, hands and feet it, watch out,” he whispered. You noticed how his hands fumbled more than usual, surely due to the nerves. Perhaps you had been reading this wrong, maybe you had taken things too far? Maybe you had overstepped and embarrassed him?
“Thank you,” you replied, giving him a genuine smile. Sam’s cheeks flushed, unmistakably a sign that maybe your anxieties been just that. Simple anxieties from overthinking this whole thing.
Now settled in the car, the two of you made the trip back to the motel. After stepping inside you beelined for the bathroom.
At least, until Sam’s voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Hey, could I talk to you about something?”
You turned to face him, eyebrows raised. You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.
“What’s up?”
With the silence in the room, you took the cue to sit on the bed. Sam towered in comparison, his lean physique defined by the lamplight.
His voice softened, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to get that close, I-“
“Sam, it’s okay,” you cut him off with a laugh, “don’t worry about it. I wasn’t bothered by it.”
He relaxed his shoulders. Sam began to dig through his bag for another set of clothes.
“You look good as a priest, by the way. You sell the bit nicely,” you stated.
What you said made his heart skip a beat. Was that a compliment, or just conversation? Sam couldn’t tell, so he turned to you once more with a goofy grin on his face.
“Thanks,” his expression darkened as his eyes raked you over, “You look good as a nun.”
There was no mistaking it - he was taking his time looking over you. Your breath hitched in your throat when he turned, leaned casually against the desk your bags laid on. You transfixed on the way his hands moved around his belt buckle. Mildly fiddling, but you couldn’t help but imagine him following through.
“Not my best outfit, but thank you,” you replied. Sam pushed away from the desk, slowly stepping toward the bed where you sat, tense with every step.
“I would agree there, you’ve worn better,” he commented.
You head snapped up to meet his eyes. A surprise note of flirtation filled your voice.
“Okay, so what’s my best outfit, then?”
He scoffed, “We playing twenty questions?”
You pointed to your outfits, smirking proudly at him, “Look at our getup, man, it’s like a confessional.”
A bright laugh came out of Sam; he tilted his head back as he thought.
“My answer isn’t exactly… appropriate.”
“Sam,” you laughed, “Confessional. You gotta tell me.”
He let out a groan before lowering his head, steadily giving you his answer, “Your dark jeans, and that long sleeve shirt. The, um… the one with the v-neck, you wore it almost every day over winter.”
“And that was inappropriate?”
“It’s why I like it that’s inappropriate.”
“Okay, then, why do you like it?”
The last thing you expected was for Sam to close the distance. He stepped until he was directly ahead, arms crossed over his chest as he locked eyes with you.
“It made your ass look nice.”
His tone was surprisingly serious, like he had been thinking of this answer for a while.
“Hugs your body in the right ways. And it makes your, well, chest… look nice.”
Sam humored your shocked expression but pushing things further. If you could dish it out, he could dish it back.
“What’s my best outfit?”
As you collected yourself, Sam stepped closer, bringing a hand to your cheek. He lifted your head, hai thumb grazing over your cheek.
“It’s a confessional. You have to tell me,” he joked, earning a slight glare from you. That sour face melted away when Sam placed his hand beneath your chin. He tilted your head back to have you look at him.
Shit.
“Jeans,” you breathed, “V-neck black shirt.”
Sam leaned in, brushing his lips across your cheek. The closeness set your skin ablaze, each trailing lip and finger sending shivers up your spine.
“Is that all?” Sam whispered.
His eyes met yours once again, a startling seriousness lurking inside. You pushed past the shyness of your answer. The honesty could break the tension that had building all this time.
“Pajama pants… no shirt. When you just get out of the shower.”
Sam’s lips curled into a satisfied smile before planting a slow kiss to your cheek. He moved gradually to your jawline, sprinkling chaste kisses until his lips hovered over yours.
“Have you wanted this?” he asked.
Your frustration was intangible - a bottle that had been shaken too much, and ready to blow. He was centimeters, millimeters away from giving you what you’d truly wanted. The silence between you signified the utter defiance to give him this so easily.
“Confessional,” Sam’s voice reverberated against you, but he offered nothing to your pleading lips, “tell me, little nun, have you thought about this? Wanted my lips on yours?”
A small whine escaped you as Sam’s hand lowered to your throat, pressing softly to the tender flesh. The loss of blood flow muddled your thoughts into complete ecstasy, with no urgency to regain control. With just one move, it was clear to Sam that you were undoubtedly his.
You gave him a small nod. A low growl thundered in his chest before pressing into you further, laying you flat on the bed. Locks of chestnut hair framed your face, with a breathy Sam hovering his mouth over your neck.
“Nodding doesn’t count. You gotta use your words, sweetheart.”
Amidst the constriction on your throat you nodded and choked out a small, "Yes."
Sam's growing smile is all you need to know you've satisfied something deeper within him. Darkness floods his eyes seeing you like this, utterly at his will under his touch. If he'd known sooner that this would be the outcome, he'd have bought that nun outfit ages ago.
"That's better," he whispered.
------
Hi everyone! I know it's just a teaser for now, but I wanted to show you something I've been working on! I've also been pretty busy with work and writing for my book series, so things have been a bit busy for sure haha
I love you all, and I keep an eye out for the full version of Sinners!
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hauntedwitch04 · 2 months
Text
Proud of you
Dean Winchester x daughter!Reader
Words: about 1.3k words
Warning: I hate John Winchester and I'm not gonna be sorry about it. Just some sad memories of Dean, but mostly fluff
REQUEST: no requested
Author’s note: Hi! I'M NOT DEAD! I know, shocking!
It was a period full of exams, including the driver's license exam and four college exams, and I could not write anything. And just when I thought I could start writing again, classes started again, so… here I am! I'm actually in the university library and should be studying, but my panic attack said NO, so here you go! this is a short scene I imagined after doing my first drive with my dad a month or so ago, and I liked it too much not to write it down, I hope you enjoy it.
Requests are open I Ask
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Ever since you were little you have dreamed of this moment, yet now that you are here and experiencing it, you can't help but want to run away and run for cover in the calm, quiet safety of your bedroom.
You clutch the steering wheel of the car in your hands, which as much as your father loves her is considered your sister, to look straight ahead.
You feel your father's eyes scrutinizing you, sitting beside you, as he considers whether to tell you something or not. You see out of the corner of your eye Castiel's hand resting on your father's shoulder to restrain him from saying anything, knowing, and feeling the anxiety gripping your stomach at this moment.
You take a deep breath and decide to finally start Baby. You hear the engine roar, and your sweaty hands slide on the steering wheel as you lightly touch the pedals with your feet as your father explained to you just before, and a thousand other times before in motel and diner parking lots when you were bored while Uncle Sam found you a place to eat or sleep.
The car begins to move, and you feel a sense of courage and pride in seeing that you are succeeding for the first time in making the car go.
You slowly manage to move a few meters before misplacing your feet while shifting gears and bringing the car to a stop without warning.
Discouraged you abandon your head against the steering wheel, narrowly missing the horn as your father laughs lightly and rests a hand on your shoulder.
Castiel watches Dean get lost in his own thoughts as he watches you explain with a low stare that you are sorry and that you don't understand how it can take you so long to understand and learn how to drive, knowing full well that your father's mind is actually somewhere else right now.
Dean watching his daughter drive for the first time in the same car in which he had learned, could not help but think of when he had been in that position.
Dean had just turned 15, but on his umpteenth fake ID and driver's license it was marked that he was at least two years older, knowing that no one would dispute the fact, since he had been showing 17 for a year and a half now. He felt sweaty hands against his thighs through his jeans as he felt his father's gaze burn him alive.
"Will you move?" John said with obvious hatred in his voice. He had decided it was time for Dean to learn to drive, so that at night he could sleep and leave his son driving the car, as if he were at least twice as old as he was.
In part Dean knew that John wanted to do this so that he could be more independent of his sons and could also take solo trips without worrying about picking up, or having someone pick them up as had happened several times, Dean and Sam after leaving them alone for a week in a motel in a town they did not know. And the oldest of the Winchester brothers couldn't help but be glad to finally get away from the monster who had become their father.
Dean swallowed laboriously and then started the car. He had almost forgotten about Sam's presence in the car until he encouraged him in a feeble voice, only to receive a cruel look from John.
Slowly he made the car move inside the parking lot. It was now late at night and not a soul would disturb his first drive, or so he thought.
He was starting to pick up speed, imitating the people he drove in the many movies he saw while waiting for his father to return from yet another hunt, when suddenly a car comes speeding towards them.
Panicked Dean suddenly accelerated to escape from the high-speed encounter with that madman, only to brake abruptly shortly after seeing that he was inches from the wall.
Dean quickly turned to see how Sam was doing after all the commotion, but he saw that the fear on his brother's face had given way to a smile, not a complete one since he had recently dropped a tooth and had yet to grow a new one.
"Wow Dean, you were great! It was like being in one of those movies-" His brother was interrupted by John's voice, which like thunder crashed down on those poor creatures who had had the misfortune of being his children.
"Don't bullshit Sam, your brother was an idiot. Do you realize you could have ruined the car!" He said shouting and motioning for his son to get out of the car as he did the same.
"But-but that car was coming at us! I couldn't do anything else! It's only my first time driving!" He tried to excuse Dean as he tried to reason with his father, but nothing could change the man's mind, especially when it came to his favorite sport: mistreating the one person over whom he had full power and control, his own son: Dean.
"And if it were up to me it would be the last damn fool too, how can I count on you if all you do is make mistakes? Disappear from my sight before I decide to leave you in this parking lot, better yet, take the car and go back to the motel, I'll stop at the bar nearby."
Dean could not help but squint his eyes, already thinking about his drunken father arriving from the bar on the crack of dawn, and the beating he would receive from the man because of alcohol, although Dean knew it was not entirely the fault of the liquid that seemed to have become John's fuel since his wife had died.
Dean, in the end, had learned to drive thanks to a teacher who was more patient and kinder than his father: Bobby, who with all the calm and love his father had never shown toward him had managed to teach the oldest of the Winchester brothers to drive in one of the many cars he had in his "backyard." And it was then Dean himself, together with Bobby, who had taught Sam how to ride in the car.
This time, however, it was different: it was not his brother he was teaching to ride in a car, but his daughter, that is, blood of his blood, the result of yet another night of passion with a woman he met at a bar, for whom he could never thank enough whatever deity ruled up there. And be damned, more than he already was, he would never let his little girl suffer what he had suffered.
"Hey, it's okay. Nobody's perfect the first time, and this car is definitely not the best you can have for a first drive, but you did great. I had done much worse my first time, and I'm not kidding, I almost hit a wall." Dean says as he watches his daughter straighten her back and look into his eyes, her own eyes, as he smiles at her, gently, and then pulls her into a hug.
"Really?" The girl asks, as she pulls her father in turn into a tight embrace.
"I swear on Miracle." He replied, as the dog in the back seat barks in response, having heard someone calling him, and the girl can't help but giggle.
They remain embraced for a few minutes, until Dean finally finds the courage to say those words that are so simple and at the same time so important, and so necessary, that he had never heard her father say to her, but that would never deprive his daughter from hearing them from him every day as long as she had breath to breathe. Five words, but they had the power of a thousand.
"I am proud of you."
TAGLIST (updated 19 Nov 2023)
@cheyennep3107 @mortica-raven13 @theviewfromtheotherside @supernatural-lvr @imnotcryingurcrying @cursednevermore @itzdarling @deansbbyx @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @afcnds @sya-skies @evansstan-akya
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castiwls · 3 months
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Love your blog btw:)
I saw you do platonic and was wondering if you could do one with the boys sister (if possible could she be older then sam but younger then dean) where there all dealing with the fallout of johns death
tysm!
by your side - d.w & s.w
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Pairing; Sam & Dean x sister!reader (platonic)
Synposis; Johns death hit all of his children hard
Warnings; angst
Notes; I feel i kinda made John sound like a good dad in this lmao but how you wanna take it is up to you
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The thought of your dad dying had always lingered over your head. Every time he missed a check in a voice in the back of your head screamed that it had finally happened. That John Winchester had made a fatal mistake and been killed by whatever he’d been hunting.
Dean had always assured you that it could never happen. But no matter what your older brother said the thought always lingered. Though in all the scenarios you’d imagined, you’d never imagined it happening like this. You’d never thought he would make a deal with a demon.
It had been a few days since Dean had been discharged and the three of you had decided to go up to Bobbys. None of you had really spoken about what had happened in the hospital. Dean had spent his time working on the Impala and you had locked yourself away in one of the guest's rooms.
You felt as if you were in a state of shock. You and your dad hadn’t always seen eye to eye but as you lay staring at the ceiling you couldn’t help but replay every memory of him you had. As you lay there you could feel tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.
Your dad was dead and you never even got to say goodbye. John Winchester was by no means a perfect man, but he was your father and you loved him all the same.
A knock on your door had you quickly wiping your eyes before sitting up. “Co-come in.” 
The door squeeked as it opened and Sam’s head appeared. His eyes looked red as if he’d also been crying and you frowned. “Sam? What’s wrong?” You asked your younger brother. 
He didn't say anything as he shuffled into your room before lying down beside you. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “The last thing we did was argue y/n. He probably died thinking that I hated him or something” He sniffled slightly looking at you with teary eyes. Guilt had been eating Sam alive for the past few days. He’d never gotten to properly apologise and now he would never have the chance. 
You sighed before beginning to run a hand through his hair. “Sam. He knows you didn’t hate him. Trust me.” You smiled softly at him. “I know he never said it but deep down he was so proud of you.”
Sam hummed softly and leaned further into your chest.
“She’s telling the truth, Sammy.” Another voice chimed in. You felt the bed dip as Dean sat behind you. Sam kept quiet but you felt him relax slightly at Deans's words. 
Your brothers were all you had now. You felt Dean lie down beside you and you shifted slightly so you could see him. He rubbed a hand up your arm as he looked at your younger brother. 
After a while, Sam’s breathing evened out and you felt his hold loosen slightly as sleep took over.
“Are you ok? Seriously.” You whispered turning your head to look at Dean. The green-eyed man didn’t say anything for a moment and he just continued to rub your arm. “I…I don’t know.” He finally admitted. “Y/n what he said to me about-” He gestured to Sam. “what did he mean.” Dean’s tone was serious as he spoke. What John had told him was clearly causing more bother than you first realised. 
“And he only made that deal for me. I don’t understand why he would throw it all away when he was so close.” He frowned looking down at you.
“Maybe because your his son and he cared more about you than that damn thing that killed Mom.” Dean raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Maybe you were right.
He let out a sigh before shaking his head. “I don’t wanna have this conversation right now okay.” He wrapped his arm around you before settling down. 
“It’s late. We can talk in the morning.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go to sleep.” 
Dean closing off was what you expected but at least you’d planted the seed. He shouldn't feel guilty for what your dad did. You nodded and spared Sam a glance.
The youngest Winchester was still sleeping calmly against your chest and you smiled softly brushing a hand through his hair. You felt Dean’s arm tighten around your shoulder slightly. You knew the movement was his way of telling you to sleep and stop worrying over Sam. 
You let out a quiet sigh as you lay back on the pillows, placing your head on Deans's shoulder. “Night.”
“Night sweetheart.”
None of you were okay but you had each other and as you lay there for the first time in days you felt some semblance of peace.
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beanzfandoms · 8 months
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Enough Adventuring for One Day
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Pairing: Dean x Sister! reader x Sam
Description: The Winchester's sister gets lost in a store.
Warning: Separation, anxiety attack 
-‘๑’--‘๑’--‘๑’--‘๑’--‘๑’--‘๑’--‘๑’--‘๑’--‘๑’--‘๑’-
     (Y/n) follows her brothers into a local grocery store. It was a large building, with high concrete walls and a ceiling that towers over the sectioned shelving. Red, yellow, and blue stripes follow along the edge of the interior, like an Elementary school does to add 'excitement'. 
        "OK," Sam says as he takes out a folded list from his flannel pocket. "We just need the basics. We can start with- Dean! Where are you going?"
        "They have cakes over here," Dean says in an obvious tone, "They might be on sale."
        "That's not essential," Sam sighs as he watches his older brother walk towards the bakery with a childish desire. "I guess it's just me and you, bug."
        (Y/n) obediently waits behind Sam as he analyzes the prices of lunch meat. She holds in a bored sigh as she lazily looks around. The young Winchester's eyes seem to brighten as she notices a small aisle of room decorations. Even though she's not home a lot, doesn't mean she can't admire the aesthetic objects of the store.
        The girl scrolls down the different comforters and figurines until a painting on the top shelf catches her eye. The moon on the canvas cascades over a lake and a shadow of trees; its reflection ripples through the waters like a pale entity. Orbs of colorful light dance about the scene like frilly dresses at a lively ball.
        The inspired energy that the girl got from it didn't last, however. (Y/n) casually glances to where Sam was, only to find that he was gone. She quickly looks back and fourth from the walkway to see if she could spot him. With no luck, and panic starting to settle, she backtracks to the bakery to find Dean.
        Tears form in her eyes as she turns the corner to find that he disappeared as well. She begins to feel claustrophobic as she helplessly looks around for her brothers.
        The world begins to spin and it feels like she is slowly falling. Her cheeks become wet and she knows the dam in her eyes finally broke. (Y/n) is scared.
        A large hand grabs her shoulder and the Winchester jolts forward defensively. Her fist connects to the palm of Dean's hand. "Whoa there," Dean grins, "I know we told you to keep your guard up, but gee. That could've hurt someone." His eyes glance over her shoulder, " I found her, Sammy."
        Sam walks over and grabs (Y/n) by the arms. "Don't ever wander off without telling me again," he says sternly. "One minute I thought you were right behind me, then I look and your missing. What if something bad-"
        "Lay off her," Dean says, "(Y/n), you okay? you don't look so hot."
        Sam stops his ranting and notices his sister's pale expression. "You feeling well?" He questions as he feels her forehead with the back of his hand.
        "I- I couldn't find you. I'm sorry- I was looking at a painting and was going to go back to you, but when I did, you were gone. S-so, I went back to the bakery to find Dean, but he was gone too-"
        "Hey, hey." It's alright. You're okay," Sam coos, brushing away a few stray tears rolling down her face. "I'm sorry I blew up."
        "Yeah," Dean butts in, "Don't cry, cause I got you cake."
        "For her?" Sam spectates with a raised brow, "Really?"
        "Of course," Dean bickers back.
        "Can we just stick together while Sam finishes his shopping... Please?" (Y/n) interjects, "I think I've done enough adventuring for today."
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jasmines-library · 6 months
Note
Can you do a Winchester brothers (mostly Dean) x sister reader where she is captured but they tie her to an anchor and drown her and the boys have to save her and bring her back to life
Sounds of Someday
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WHUMPTOBER DAY 24: Prompt: “I thought they were with you?”
Fandom: Supernatural.
Summary: the request pretty much says it all. When you and your brothers split up during an unusual hunt, you get caught and become part of a witch’s ritual, which ends with your life slipping away and your brothers struggling to reach you as you are dragged away.
Warnings: Drowning, blood, capturing, character death.
Word count: 2.3k
Note: thank you so much for requesting anon! This was really fun to write. I hope you don’t mind that I included it in my whumptober series, I thought it fit interestingly with todays prompt!
MAST ERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
You and your brothers weren’t sure what you were hunting. There was no pattern- nothing set in stone to follow and every time you thought you had latched onto something in the lore, it would change unpredictably to something that contradicted what you’d just believed. At first, you thought it was a vampire. It had appeared out of nowhere, slinking in from the darkness. But then people started to go missing and the bodies were being discovered in strange ways: with nasty scratches, dark bruises or completely torn to shreds. Then, Sam led you on to believe it a spirit, looking to extract some sort of revenge. But you weren’t sure. Nothing was linear and it was making your head spin just thinking about it.
The town you were hunting in was quaint residence in the centre of Minnesota. It was surrounded by woodland and was fairly isolated from the rest of the world around it, making it the perfect stomping ground. It honestly surprised you that this place hadn’t cropped up before.
Your feet had begun to ache as you trudged slowly through the pine needles behind your brothers. You had a backpack slung over your shoulder which rattled as you hauled it higher up on your back. You had been walking for ages, training behind your older brothers who, given the fact they were much taller than you had managed to move at a much faster pace, having to take less steps due to their long strides. Sam had insisted that you stake out the woods in chance of finding something hidden nearby, but the area was vast and the three of you were yet to find anything in the hours of walking behind you. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon too, making it increasingly hard to gage your surroundings and keep your bearings.
“We should split up.” Sam said suddenly as you came to a fork in the path. It broke the silence that had gradually settled over you once you had run out of things to talk about.
Dean furrowed his brow. “What? Are you stupid, Sam?”
The tallest Winchester sighed deeply and slowed his pace to a stop. “We’re not going to find anything if we all huddle together. It’s getting dark and our best shot at finding something is if we split up.”
“That’s exactly my point, Sam. It’s getting dark and we don’t know what’s out there. Besides, there’s no way y/n is going out there on her own-“
“Y/n is old enough to go back to the motel alone-“
You scoffed, cutting him off with a stern look. “Do I get a say in this?”
“Y/n-“
“Dean.”
“You know we don’t like it when you go off alone-“
“I’m not a child, Dean. I can take care of myself.”
Your eldest brother let out a relenting sigh after shared an unspoken glance with Sam. The two of them had a habit of doing that. “Fine. But if you’re not back here within the hour then you’re in deep shit.”
You grinned, turning to head down the middle path.
“And y/n-“ Dean called out to you. You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Keep your phone on.”
You nodded and made your way down the trail. Dean didn’t move for a while. Something nagged at him, so he stood as you wandered off into the trees, watching you with careful eyes. Little did he know that he wasn’t the only one watching you.
~
You had been walking for sometime. Too long. The woods had thickened and the darkness made it impossibly hard to tell the path ahead from the path you’d just taken. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were lost. And to make matters worse you hadn’t even found anything useful. You had considered messaging Dean for help; but that would involve admitting that you were wrong and you knew that if you did that you wouldn’t hear the end of it. You were reluctant, but when you reached into your pocket to pull out the device, you found that it was missing. You then considered turning back, you knew something was wrong and it was nearing an hour since you had left and were due to rendezvous with your brothers, so you would be able to reach them without worrying them…but that was when it caught your eye.
Dangling limply from a brunch, a piece of blood-splattered cloth hung. It was fresh, still dripping blood onto the muddy ground below it. It looked as though it had snagged on a branch. You reached out to collect it in between your fingers, turning it over slowly as your examined it. When you went to pocket it, there was a loud snap of a branch to your left.
Almost mechanically you had dropped the cloth and replaced it with the cool hilt of your pistol. You were on high alert, searching for the source of the sound. Then came other to your right. And then behind you.
You were surrounded.
You didn’t know where to direct your attention, whipping around to find your best course of action. But whoever or whatever was tailing you was smart and clearly outnumbered you.
Someone tackled you from the side, forcing you to the ground with a sickening thud. You screamed, startled. Delivering an upwards kick, you tried to throw the woman off of you, but her grip was firm as she rolled on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head and straddling your waist. There was another pair of hands working a rope around your feet and other around your hands. You tried to squirm, kick and scream, but a harsh slap left you disorientated as a gag was forced around your mouth.
~
Sam came to a halt at the rendezvous point. He was a few minutes late and was met with an antsy looking Dean, who was pacing and constantly glancing at the time displayed on his phone screen. Sam could see the gun he had loosely planted in his jean pocket.
Dean turned at the sound of footsteps approaching, but he was in no way revived. In fact the sight made his chest constrict. Sam was alone.
“Where is she?” Dean demanded, crossing the space between him and his younger brother in two large strides.
Sam furrowed his brow. “I thought she was with you?”
“No.” Dean fumbled in his pocket to bring up your contact number. “She texted me. She said she had found you and that she was gonna…”
Dean trailed off when Sam flashed up his screen to reveal an identical message. They had been played.
“Son of a bitch.”
“You think she did this?” Sam asked. It wasn’t something entirely out of character for you. You would often trick your brothers into getting what you wanted, or simply just for some peace and quiet.
“I-“
All ideas were cut short at the sound of a shrill scream, that caused both brother’s hearts to falter. Your scream. They would recognise your voice in a crowd of a thousand. Neither of them wasted any time as they darted towards the sound.
~
You had managed to make out three of them as they began to drag you through the woods over bumps. The pine needles gathered in your hair and clung to your clothes to poke at your skin. You knew that your brothers would realise quickly that something was wrong. It was hardwired into them. But one of them was doing something with your phone which you could only assume she had managed to snatch from your pocket somewhere along your trek.
You could only watch as they dragged you into a clearing. You were grateful when the upturned roots morphed into grass. The lake glistened under the moonlight and the start sky. It was the type of serene scene that you and your brothers would pull up at and sit on the roof of the Impala just to revel in the quiet. The thought only made the situation seem even sicker. When the women hauled you onto a dock, you sensed two more people lingering nearby. One of them held a weighted book and the other a set of chains fastened to what looked like some sort of anchor.
Your eyes flew open when the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. They were witches. And you were part of their spell. You tried to dig the heels of your boots into the wooden slats and scrabble away, but one of them landed a kick to your stomach and dragged you closer again, hauling you up onto your feet and holding you tightly in their grasp.
One raised your hand, biting into it with a silver dagger and then squeezing it into a chalice. You’re screamed and bit into the gag. Then they began to chant. Old, foreign words that rang throughout your ears. But nothing stayed. Your mind was too hazy as your blood dribbled out of the wound. After the final word had been spoken, one of the male witches snatched you away and pushed you towards the edge of the dock. The water was dark and endless below you and you tried to teeter away from the edge but you were in a vulnerable position and with one wicked smirk and another chorus of chanting, you were sent tumbling over the edge and into the water. But not before you hear the faintest whisper of your name carried across in the wind.
~
There’s something irresistably poetic about drowning. You weren’t sure if it was the way that time slows to nothing the moment your body it’s the icy water, or the way that it was so quiet under the surface, but there was something about it.
Well, that was until you watched the bubbles escape from your mouth and your nose, rising up to the surface and the dissipating. You tried to kick the binds way, flailing to gain some traction on the water and pull yourself up the the surface so that you could take a desperate gasp of air, but the binds rendered you powerless as the anchor dragged you down down down into inky nothingness. Your lungs burned as you struggled to retain what precious air you had left in your lungs, jerking and twisting to try and get free, but the struggling left you tired and soon the last of the air rose from your mouth. The water assaulted your eyes too, blurring your vision even through there wasn’t much to see besides the white light of the moon above.
Somewhere above your there was a loud splash as Dean delved deep into the water, scrambling after you. He had watched in horror as your body pummelled off the side. He didn’t think he could urge is legs to go any faster as he ran next to Sam who helped him make quick work of taking down the witches. Once the odds had been evened Dean took the plunge after you.
His body nearly went into shock against the stabbing of the cold, but he paid no mind to it as he watched your body sink at an alarming rate. Your hair drifted around you like a halo as he urged his body forwards to catch up with you.
Somehow he managed to wrap a calloused hand around yours. He pulled you to his chest, palling at your stillness, and fumbled to release you from the anchor. Once the heavy weight was gone, he gave one hard kick after pushing your body so that it could drift to the surface, following closely behind and ignoring the burn in his chest.
When his head broke the surface the took a huge, spluttering gulp of air, sucking it in greedily. But you didn’t move. You didn’t squirm to keep yourself afloat, your chest rise and fall, you didn’t even blink.
Dean was then paddling his way over you you, lifting your body so that Sam, who was clinging to the edge of the dock with an outstretched hand could pull you into land.
“Come on!” He urged, gripping you under the armpits and pulling you back onto try land. Dean was inches behind, silently praying that you would be okay. But your heart had stopped.
“No. No no no.” Dean cried at your stillness. “Come on y/n. You don’t get to do this to us.”
He hovered over you, locking his hands in place to begin CPR.
“Come on, sweetheart.” He pleaded, breathing into your mouth. He could feel the resistance in your lungs. His chest tightened further.
“Dean-“ Sam’s voice wavered as he laid a hand on his shoulders.
“No. Shut up Sammy.” He shook his head and blinked away the tears and he pressed harder against your chest, winching at the sound of them splintering beneath the force of his compressions. “She’s fine. She’s fine.”
“Dean…”
You sat up abruptly, heaving a wet cough as you keeled over expelled the water from your lungs. Dean patted your back to help. Everything hurt, your head, your joints, your lungs.
“That’s it, kid. Let it all out.”
“They… they-“ you tried to speak, but your voice was horse and scared so it came out more like a whimper. You took in deep breaths.
Dean cradled you to his chest, rocking you back and fourth in his arms as you sobbed, shivering from the cold and the shock.
“You’re okay, kid.” Sam tried to reassure you.
“We’re here y/n. We will always protect you, no matter what. And as long as you are here, we will always keep you safe. I promise.”
<- DAY 23 ⛤ DAY 25 ->
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
Taglist:
@deans-spinster-witch
@senjoritanana
@amaryllis23
204 notes · View notes
kaleldobrev · 7 months
Text
Shiny New Toy (5) - Finale
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Summary: After everything that happened, how will your relationship change with Dean? Will it be for better or for worse?
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Age Gap (a “warning” that I kept forgetting to put on these fics but have been updated now), Cursing (9x), Mentions of kinks (pain, degradation & praise), Sad Dean, Self-Blaming Behavior, Smut (P in V - unprotected)
Authors Note: Okay gang! Here is the 5th and final part of my Demon!Dean mini-series! I just want to thank everyone who has read, commented & shared this. Originally when I posted part one, I wasn’t sure how well this was going to be received, but it was received incredibly well and I’m honestly in awe. Thank you for coming on this little journey with me. This may be the end of “Shiny New Toy” but this won’t be the end of Demon!Dean content from me (I love the man too damn much) | 18+ Only Please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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Shiny New Toy Masterlist
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You were lying in bed completely under the sheets as if in a cave. All the lights were off, and the door was closed. Despite the hallway light always being on, Sam had turned it off for you so it could be completely dark — and for that you were grateful. Complete and utter silence filled the room, and it amazed you how quiet the Bunker truly was despite what was happening down the hall from you. Sam was in the dungeon with Dean finally curing him. It took Sam two weeks to find you and Dean, and during those two weeks it was day after day of Dean using you as if you were this shiny new toy. After the first day you expected the novelty of you being a virgin to wear off, but it didn’t. You remembered something that he said to you during one of those long days (you honestly lost track after day three or four). “You’re mine, no one else’s,” he whispered aggressively in your ear as he came deep inside of you.
There was a part of you that strangely enjoyed the sex that Dean and you had. It was the kind of sex you never expected you’d ever have (let alone with Dean). It was rough, needy, almost animalistic in nature. There was a certain type of pleasure that you seemed to have when slight pain or degradation was involved — something you never found yourself ever gravitating towards previously.
When Sam had finally found the two of you it must of been an absolute sight for him to see. His older brother balls deep inside their best friend, someone Sam considered a sister. You remembered the evil type of laugh that exited Dean, how amused he was when Sam walked in. "Want to try her out? She's a good fuck, loves it real rough too," Dean had said. The worst part of it? You remember clenching around him and almost came at his words, which only caused his smirk to grow wider.
You didn't know what you were going to say when you ultimately faced Dean again. What even was there to say? Would he remember doing any of those things to you or would he go about his business like nothing ever happened? To be honest, you weren't sure what you had wanted more: for him to remember or to forget.
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Dean found himself in his room again after months of being away and it was in the exact same condition as when he had left it, besides the note he had left for you and Sam. Turning on the light he stared at the empty bed before him and there were two thoughts in his mind. The first was how much he just wanted to lay down and fall asleep for the next couple of months (the tiredness was now starting to hit him); the second was to just find you and apologize. Well, more like beg for your forgiveness.
He remembered everything, everything that he did to you over the course of the two weeks that he had you down in Hell. He remembered all of the degrading things he said to you, called you. He remembered all of the things he made you do, did to you. Despite everything that happened between the two of you during those two long weeks there was something that he was having trouble with: the way you reacted to his touch and how it changed over the course of the two weeks. On the first day he had you, the way you acted wasn't unreasonable, you were afraid and you had every right to be — there was no telling what he would do to you. But throughout the first day, he started to notice small changes in your behavior, in your reactions when he touched you; but he wasn't entirely sure if he was just misremembering or not (a lot happened in those two weeks). But, he could have sworn that you were actually enjoying it, enjoying the way he was speaking to you, essentially using you for his own pleasure. "It's not about you," he told you — and it wasn't. That's what he was struggling with, he was unsure if you were actually enjoying it or just pretending: he could see cases for both.
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Dean walked over to his closet and pushed some clothes aside, his whiskey stash was still intact. Picking up the still full bottle, he held it in his hands and contemplated if he was even going to bother to get a glass or not. "Fuck it," he said, unscrewing the cap and taking a giant swig from the bottle. He stood there for a moment in front of the closet taking a few sips before settling down on his bed, the bottle practically glued to his hand.
As he attempted to relax, he reached for the remote but before he could there was a subtle knock at the door. "What?" He said, far too aggressively.
"Sorry I'll...I'll come back later," it was you and you sounded disappointed, sad. Within seconds he heard you walking away down the hallway, and he was mentally kicking himself to responding the way he did. As soon as he heard your door close he placed the bottle of whiskey on his bedside table and got up from his bed.
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Once closing your door you sat down in front of it hugging your knees close to your chest. You heard footsteps outside your door and a soft sigh before someone knocked — it was probably Dean. "Hey, it's...it's me," he said, his voice sounding relatively more calm than it did not even two minutes ago.
"What?" You responded back, your voice matching what his sounded like previously.
"I deserve that," he mumbled, "and a lot worse..." he trailed off. "I uh, did you want to talk or...I didn't mean to snap like that, I thought you were Sam."
"Even if it was Sam you shouldn't have snapped like that," you said, Dean couldn't help but agree. "But I'll let it slide given the situation." From the way your voice sounded, it was like you were the one apologizing — something that you shouldn't be doing.
"Can I come in? Or did you want to talk through the door?" He asked, his tone was serious. "I'm fine with either I just...whatever you're comfortable with Sweetheart." The way he said Sweetheart had almost sounded as if he was actually struggling to say the nickname, like he felt bad saying it.
"Yeah you can...you can come in," you said, your voice low as you started to get up from in front of the door. As you opened the door you heard Dean step back a few feet in order to give you space. Upon opening it he was leaning back against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Hey," you slightly mumbled.
"Hey," he replied back. You stood off to the side and looked at him, gesturing him to come inside your bedroom. At first the look on his face was hesitant, unsure if he had actually wanted to come in even though that's all he had wanted to do. After a moment of exchanging looks and a reassuring smile from you, he slowly made his way past you into your room, making sure he didn't touch you.
"You can sit down on my bed if you want to," you stated as you started to close the door behind you.
"Are you sure?" His tone hesitant.
"Of course," you reassured him.
"Okay," he nodded and sat down on the edge of your bed. Despite how comfortable your bed was, Dean somehow looked extremely uncomfortable sitting there. "If you want to keep the door open you can."
"Why would I want to keep the door open? Closing the door is more private," his comment confused you slightly.
"I just want you to feel safe," his voice low.
"I always feel safe with you," your voice matching his, but yours sounded more confident. He scoffed at your comment, "What?"
"After everything I did, I should be the last person you should feel safe around," the usual warmness he had in his voice wasn’t there, his voice sounded hard, cold, with slight amusement. Like he sounded genuinely surprised that you stated you still felt safe around him.
"You're not a demon anymore Dean, so there's really no reason for me not to feel unsafe. I mean, you're not planning on...hurting me right?" You hated asking that, but you had to prove a point to him.
He scoffed again. "Of course not. I would ne—" he didn't bother to finish his sentence, he just looked down at the ground no longer making eye contact with you. "Hurting you is the last thing I'd want to do," he sighed, mumbling his words. "And look how that turned out."
"It wasn't entirely your fault Dean. You weren't completely yourself," you said. "You were a demon, and you became one against your will, it was something that was out of your control."
"Don't try and justify the way I treated you Y/N," he sounded so hurt, and you felt your heart breaking again. "What I did to you was beyond fucked."
"Then I guess I'm the fucked up one because I enjoyed 95% of it," your eyes grew wide, you didn't mean for those words to come out but they did. You felt your heart starting to sink now, and you felt your cheeks start to get hot — they were probably bright pink with embarrassment.
Dean looked at you, trying to process the sentence that you just said. Your statement had confirmed his suspicions, well, more like confirmed what he was trying to remember. "You weren't faking it?" He asked, trying to make sure he understood.
"No," you let out a deep breath. "At first I didn't enjoy it but after a while I don't know I just..." you felt slightly embarrassed saying it, but it was the truth, you knew how fucked up it sounded. "The only thing I pretended was you not being a demon during it."
"Sweetheart, I don't mean to make light of the situation but I do have a slight question," he said.
"What's your question?" You asked.
"Do you have a, again, I'm not trying to make light of the situation but, I just need to clarify to make sure I'm understanding what you're telling me." He got up from the bed and started making his way toward you, your back was still leaning up against the door. "Do you have a pain and degradation kink?"
"It sounds so simple when you put it that way," you stated. "But uh...I guess I do."
"Huh," was all he said. "Don't take this the wrong way but, I never pegged you as someone into that kind of thing," his voice sounding slightly amused.
"I'm just as surprised as you are," you let out a breathy type of laugh, almost embarrassed. "But um...I do want to experience normal sex."
Dean's lips turned into a grin. His once sad self-blaming face turning into the complete opposite now; it now radiated a certain smugness or amusement. "Normal sex uh?"
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Six Months Later...
You were lying on your back underneath Dean, one of your legs over his shoulder as he slowly moved in and out of you, hitting the exact right spot each and every time. Letting out a tiny moan you shut your eyes, and you moved your hands so they were now gripping the headboard behind you. "So fucking beautiful," Dean slightly whispered kissing your inner thigh; his slight scruff feeling nice against your skin. He felt you starting to clench around him, and the smirk that he had on his face had started to grow. "So good for me," he praised, slightly whispering again.
"Dean..." you moaned softly, almost a whimper.
"Yeah Sweetheart?" He asked, kissing your inner thigh again.
"Can I..." you started to say, but your thoughts got quickly interrupted when Dean completely pulled himself out of you before practically slamming himself back inside of you, "Fuck," you said a bit louder than you were expecting.
"Sweetheart I am in the middle of fucking you," you could hear the smirk on his lips.
"Sm-smartass," your voice coming out as a slight moan. "Can I...can I please cum?"
"Well since you asked so nicely..." his voice trailed off, his movements picking up their pace. Based on the speed and the way his hips were moving, you could tell that he was starting to get close too. He took your other leg and draped it over his other shoulder, which caused him to feel even deeper than he had been before. "You may."
With a few more thrusts and praises from him, you felt yourself starting to let go, coming around his cock, your orgasm hitting you harder than you had expected it to. "Fuckk," you threw your head back, shutting your eyes.
"That's it Sweetheart," he praised again. You couldn't help but curse again, a long string of profanities leaving your mouth. They almost didn't even sound like curses; more like whimpers and moans mixed with words that didn't even sound like anything. Dean was close behind you, the sounds that had escaped you had gotten him to a point where he was moments away from coming. He heard you say his name, and upon hearing you moan it he started to cum deep inside of you, his own orgasm hitting harder than he had thought, similar to how yours was.
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Once both of you had come down from your highs, Dean laid down next to you on his side propping himself up with his elbow as he looked at you, breathing slightly heavy next to him still on your back. Your legs and arms were completely flat, almost as if you were afraid to move. "You okay Sweetheart?" He asked, giving your bare shoulder a kiss.
You turned to him, giving him a soft smile, "More than okay," you replied. "Round three in ten?"
He chuckled at your question. "How about thirty?" He asked, and your face dropped. "We need to refuel baby," he explained, his hand patting your thigh.
"Fine," you said, your voice slightly stubborn.
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apocalypseornaw · 7 months
Text
Wanna be Yours (Pt 1/5)
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Sam Winchester x Reader
After years of hunting with Dean you finally meet his younger brother
@lacilou s genius idea
Every hunter had one thing in common, tragic backstory. The one event that fucked their lives up bad enough that they not only discovered that the things that went bump in the night were very real but they decided to not sit on the sidelines and to actually do something about it.
Your event? You'd gone camping with your family, your parents along with your aunt and uncle and a couple cousins. No one had heard anything about the so called animal attacks neither did anyone know how the hell to defend themselves when the wendigo attacked.
The initial bloodbath had been hell. Your dad and uncle were first gone, going at the beast straight in an attempt to save their families. Next came your mom and aunt, a last ditch effort to distract it while you and your cousins ran. The three of you barely made it half a mile before the beast caught you.
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You'd assumed that was it, you'd die just like your family had. The beast had kept the three of you for days in a cavern. You'd seen it kill your older cousin, Derek was fourteen and had fought like hell so you begged it to spare to your younger cousin, Allie his little sister who was only four not knowing if it even understood you.
The begging seemed to lure it to you. It raised its clawed hand and you prepared for a slash that never came. Instead you heard someone yell "KIDS GET DOWN!"
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You nodded to Allie and you both tucked down in as small of a ball as possible. The heat that filled the cavern was unbearable mixed with the scent of burning flesh along with the sounds of the creature as it died.
When it was over you untucked and was met with a woman, she was probably around your aunts age. Her brown hair braided back, wearing jeans and a red flannel of all things. A flamethrower was in her hands "You girls ok?" You nodded numbly "Help Allie first"
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That was how you met Hayley Lynols. She was a second generation hunter. When it was discovered you had no legal guardian (Allie had gone to a relative of her dad's) Hayley had stepped in to offer you a place to stay.
She'd given you three options. One was a normal life, one was the life of a hunter and the third option was what she wanted you to take "I'll train you just like my dad trained me but you go to school and get a ged at least. Any kid of mine isn't going to be dumb in any way. If you want to hunt on your own some after you're eighteen that's you but just know I'll always be here to help"
You'd taken the third option. You'd buckled down on school and studied hard. You'd gotten a ged by the time you turned fifteen and started hunting with Hayley.
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That was how you met Dean. You were nineteen, on the very first solo hunt Hayley had allowed you. She deemed it simple enough, a haunting case that seemed like it'd be a simple salt and burn.
---------------
She hadn't realized another hunter was already on the case. You stood across from the guy that had to be around your age, both of you carrying a duffle and a shovel.
Neither of you blinked so you decided to go out on a limb "Anthony Rowen?" He sort of laughed "You a hunter?" You nodded then motioned towards the grave that was about three feet from where the two of you stood "I say we work this together and it goes a lot faster" he nodded "I like that idea" then offered his hand "Dean" you shook his hand "Y/N, let's get to it"
---------------
Since the two of you weren't old enough for a bar you ended up at a diner, coffee and pie in front of you both as you talked about your lives. He told you about his father and brother and you told him about Hayley. Before you went your separate way you exchanged numbers and swore to keep in touch.
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You'd see Dean off and on but when you were about twenty six he fell off the map for a while until he resurfaced about a year later with a simple phone call of "Y/N, I need some help"
------------
You pulled your challenger to a stop next to Dean's impala and grabbed your phone to check the text as to what room he was in but before you could the door to room one fifteen opened and Dean walked out, shadowed by another guy. He looked a little younger than Dean with hair that borderlined shaggy but it was clear they were related. Could that be Sam?
You climbed out your car with a smile "Winchester!" Dean grinned and met you halfway pulling you into a hug "Y/N! It's good to see you" when the two of you separated he motioned to the other guy "This is my little brother Sam"
You turned your eyes towards Sam with a smile and offered your hand "I've heard about you for years, weird we're just now meeting but good to meet you" he grinned as he shook your hand "Good to meet you too" you had to admit, he was cute. Broad smile and dimples along with green hazel eyes that followed your every movement. You cut your eyes at Dean "Also, little brother? He's taller than you"
Sam laughed at your words, the sound was enough to pull a smile to your face "Oh I like her already" you winked at him "Stick around cutie, I'm a very likeable person" Dean shook his head "Let's get to work"
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After that day you and the Winchesters started keeping in touch every few days. You hadn't known they lost John so you weren't able to be there for them but when you lost Hayley they'd driven straight across two states to get to your side.
--------‐--
You stood between them both, staring at the flames as they engulfed her body. You felt a shiver run through you and weren't sure if it was from the cold night air or losing the only parental figure you had left. "I'll go grab your jacket" Dean offered and headed for your challenger.
You and Sam stood silent for a few moments before he said "When dad died Dean wouldn't talk to anyone, let anyone in until he finally broke one day. Y/N I know we're not as close as you and Dean but you're my friend and if you need anything I'm here" you nodded, eyes never leaving the flames "Thanks Sam"
About that time Dean walked back over with your jacket and draped it over your shoulders "You know Y/N, I was thinking" you cut your eyes at Sam with a weak smile "Should we run?" A small smile slipped onto his face "Let's hear him out then we'll see if we need to"
"Ha ha very funny" Dean replied before continuing "Hayley always said she didn't like you hunting alone, you can always throw your hat in with me and Sam. We don't mind the company" you nodded "Maybe I will" a silence fell back over the three of you as the flames began to burn down to just embers.
@nelachu2423
@lacilou
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months
Text
Queen of Hell
Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Sam Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: Sam and Dean try to get you out of hell, but they learn things about you they didn’t expect
Warnings: slight mentions of death? Hell, Crowley (he needs his own warning)
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“Do you think this is gonna work?” Sam rubbed his hand over his face, sighing in exhaustion.
“It has to,” Dean growled as he finished his devil’s trap.
“Why?” Sam asked.
“Because I don’t know what I’m gonna do if it doesn’t.”
“Wha-“ Crowley gritted his teeth when he laid eyes on Sam and Dean. “Well, hello boys. To what do I owe this…” he looked down at the devil’s trap under his feet. “Pleasure?”
“Our sister,” Sam struggled to keep his voice calm now that he was in sight of the one responsible for your current position in hell.
“It’s about time,” Crowley glared at them. “Please tell me you have a plan to raise her.”
“You…what?” Dean stepped closer to Crowley.
“I want her gone, but I can’t just raise her, we have rules. It has to be a deal.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Red tape, you know?”
“You want her gone?” Sam didn’t sound convinced.
“You’re the one who put her in there!” Dean reminded him.
“Yes, well, everyone makes mistakes.”
“I don’t understand,” Sam admitted, “Why do you want her to come back to us?”
“She’s a holy terror!” Crowley’s sudden outburst surprised the brothers. “She’s wreaking absolute havoc on the place, and some of my demons are enjoying so much that they’re joining her!” Crowley’s voice suddenly dropped, and he hesitated, as though embarrassed. “She…she’s trying to take over hell.”
“She’s what?” Dean scoffed. “Crowley, what is this really about?”
“You think I’d lie about something like this? You��ve gotta get her out, boys.”
“She’s just a kid,” Sam shook his head. “And a sweet kid at that, you expect us to beli-“
“A sweet kid? What, you think she’s just your innocent little baby sister?” Crowley rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how she acts around you boys, but she’s given hell nothing but trouble since she got there. Now get her out.”
Dean sighed, unsure what to believe but glad to have strung some kind of alliance with Crowley.
“Alright, but we’ll need your help.”
“Dean!” You ran to your oldest brother, throwing your arms around him, and he held you for the first time in months.
“Hey baby,” he grinned, “welcome back.”
You pulled away enough to look around, and you grinned when you saw Sam just behind him.
“Sam,” he pulled you into a tight hug that you reciprocated, only pulling back when you noticed the other presence in the room.
“Crowley.”
“Hello, rugrat.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to call your queen,” you grinned at the demon.
“You are most certainly not my queen,” Crowley glowered at you.
“Wait, so it’s true?” Dean turned to you. “You tried to take over hell?”
“Tried to?” You laughed. “Is that what Crowley said?” You turned from Crowley to Dean, and smiled at him. “Yeah, I ‘tried to’. Was doing pretty great, too, I had almost as many supporters as Crowley.”
“You wish,” Crowley scoffed, but the scowl on his face was self explanatory.
“Why?” Sam asked. “What were you trying to do in there?”
“It was all I could think to do,” your confident smirk was gone, and your voice became quiet, reserved.
“I don’t understand,” Sam admitted.
You cleared your throat and glared at Crowley.
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
He rolled his eyes, “See you around, boys,” he turned to glare at you. “And I better never see you in hell again.” And he was gone.
“I was trying to get back,” you turned your attention back on your older brothers, now that Crowley was gone. “Trying to win favor with some demons was the only thing I could do, but I guess I went a little overboard,” you gave a wry smile. “Some of them started following me, like really following me, and I figured the best way to get out of hell would be to…I don’t know, be in charge of it.”
“You’re crazy,” Dean shook his head. “And a genius.”
You let him pull you into his arms again, relaxing in his embrace.
“I would do anything to get back to you guys.”
Sam put his hand on your shoulder.
“We tried to get you back, we never stopped.”
“I know,” you smiled. “Hey, it worked.”
“Yeah, and we’re never going to let that happen again,” Dean promised.
“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” you laughed softly. “Crowley’s never gonna let me into hell again.”
531 notes · View notes
delulu4dean · 9 months
Text
Emergency Room
Warnings: trauma, throwing up, surgery, hospital, swearing
Parings: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader
Summary: reader gets emergency surgery, Sam and Dean make sure reader is recovering properly
Word Count: 3,517
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It was one in the morning when your screaming and sobs woke your older brothers up. They ran to your room to find you on the floor, throwing up as you clutched your stomach in pain. You’ve been feeling some abdominal pain, and figured maybe the drinking finally caught up to you, even though you didn't drink that often. It wasn’t bad pain, just mild, so you let it be. In the past few nights the pain got worse though, and you lost sleep, staying up until the pain went away. It was some temporary attack of pain, two hours every night. But you managed, so you ignored it.
It was two in the morning, your brothers holding you up in the emergency room, demanding they hurry up and take you into a room. You’ve been crying for the past hour now, unable to stop from the pain. You thought to yourself, this is it. This is when you die. The pain has been switching from dull to sharp, and as you felt a wave of sharp pain jolt through your abdomen again, you screamed.
“She needs a bed right now,” Dean’s voice boomed through the waiting room. “She needs a doctor. She’s been like this for the past hour!”
“We’re prepping a bed right now,” the nurse assured Dean. Sam leaned you onto Dean, and you clung onto your eldest brother.
“Sammy, where are you going?” Dean asked, as he held you close.
“Just getting a wheel chair.”
Only a minute later, Sam returned with a wheel chair, and your brothers sat you down. Sam started filling out paperwork, while Dean held your hand, assuring you everything will be alright.
“Dean, I don’t want to die,” you sobbed, huddled over, hugging your stomach.
“Hey, hey, you’re not going to die. How long have you been feeling like this?” Dean rubbed your back.
“For the past four months. But it wasn’t this bad.”
“You should’ve told us, kid. We could’ve gotten this sorted.”
“I didn’t want to worry you, I thought it was nothing.”
“Y/N Winchester?” a nurse called out.
It was three in the morning when you were laying in a bed, a cold gel placed on your skin. You were getting an ultrasound, after the blood work and EKG came back normal. You winced as the technician pressed down on your side. Sam and Dean were there, telling you it’s alright. But with the cold gel and the pain you felt far from alright.
It was four in the morning when you were rushed in for surgery. You had a massive blockage in your gallbladder, from gallstones. Doctor told you it’s not incredibly uncommon at your age. Less likely, but not uncommon. Luckily the gallstone hasn’t ruptured anything, or caused bad swelling, so an emergency laparoscopic surgery was possible. The last thing you saw was doctors over your head. Things got fuzzy, as your eyes got droopy.
✰✰✰✰✰
White. Your vision is white first, and as it becomes clearer, you find yourself looking at the bright fluorescent lights in the recovery room. You try to move your arms, but your body still feels heavy. The most you can do is lift your head and look around. You feel like you’re unable to speak, but you try and try until you get a nurse to come over to you.
“Your brothers went to the cafeteria, I called them to let them know you’re out of surgery. They should be here soon,” she smiles at you.
After a couple of minutes you felt like you could move but as you tried to sit up, you feel too weak to support yourself, and your stomach hurts too much.
“Hey hey, lay down, we’re here,” Dean says, walking towards you. “We’re here now, and you’re alive and okay. They said you should be able to go home by 6am.”
“The surgery was minimally invasive, so you should be better and feeling one hundred percent in two weeks,” Sam smiles at you. “You did it. The hard part is over.”
The hard part is not over.
The surgeon comes up to you and your brothers, handing a packet to Sam.
“Give her fifteen minutes, then you can take her home, we’re getting the discharge papers ready. And we prescribed oxycodone for the pain, take only as needed. And when the pain becomes more mild to moderate, switch to ibuprofen,” the doctor explains.
“What about the pain before I can get to a pharmacy?” you ask.
“I’ll get someone to get you something.” And with that, the doctor walks off.
After a minute, the nurse from before comes in, and puts something in your IV. You look at her confused.
“What are you putting in there?” Dean asks for you.
“Fentanyl, for the pain. Just a little bit.”
“You’re giving my baby sister fentanyl?” Dean’s eyes widen.
“Dean, the doctor ordered it, they know what they’re doing,” Sam sighs. “It’s not like Y/N isn’t going to be on narcotics for the next two weeks.”
“She doesn’t need all this, she’s a Winchester.”
“Dean, please,” you plead, looking up at your brother. He can’t say no to you.
“You really need it for the pain?” he asks you, softly. You only nod in response.
After a little, Sam signs your discharge papers, while Dean puts you in a wheelchair to wheel you to Baby. You sit shotgun so you can recline the seat to a comfortable position. It hasn’t hit you yet, because you’re woozy from the drugs, but you have one less organ now. Sure it’s a tiny one that only aids in digestion, but it’s gone now.
Back at the bunker, the boys help you in slowly. You insist you can walk. You should walk. Walking five minutes a few times a day following a surgery reduces risk of blood clots. But the stairs, that’s the problem. You don’t even want to attempt to walk down the stairs.
“I’m alright over here,” you quaver.
“Hey, we’ll take it slowly,” Sam promises you, his voice gentle. “Take my hand, Dean and I got you.”
You take a deep breath, nodding. Then you take the first step. And the second step. And ever so slowly, you reach the bottom of the stairs. You look back up at them and decide you’re not leaving the bunker until you feel 100% again, because no way in hell are you going to do that again like this. You let go of your brothers hands, and walk over to your room, them following close behind to make sure you’re alright.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Dean asks you.
“I just wanna sleep.” You yawn and sit down on the recliner chair you got for when you played your video games.
“Do you want me to get you anything for lunch?” Dean asks again.
“Mmm something light on the tummy. I can’t have anything fatty or greasy or with too much dairy for the next month,” you pout. But the pout is quickly replaced with a smile when you think of something to eat. “I want some veggie pho please. I’ve been craving pho, I love love love pho.”
Dean nods, and helps you recline the chair.
“But get some sleep, you and Sam have been up all night with me,” you reach out to your brother’s hand. “At least nap.”
“We’re fine, kid.”
“And I’m fine too. I’m just going to sleep.”
“Don’t you want to sleep in your bed?”
“It’s easier to get up if I need to like this. Plus I got some vomit on my sheets.”
“Okay. You sleep, I’m going to clean that up right now.”
Dean kissed your forehead, and you lay back and sleep.
✰✰✰✰✰
You open your eyes to see Sam coming in with a bag of food. He had a smile plastered across his face while Dean, who’s following right behind him, looks angry.
“Mmm, hello,” you greet them, softly.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Sam sits beside you.
“I’m feeling alright,” you answer, sitting up. You wince as you do, but it could be worse. “Why is Dean all pissy? And why are you all happy?”
“Sam decided since you have to eat all healthy now, that we all should.” Dean crosses his arms.
“Ah right. It sucks, even after I’m healed, I’m still gonna have to eat like this because my digestive tract is not used to having one less organ. I’m going to be shitting like crazy.”
“Ew come on, I already have to eat healthy, I don’t want to hear you talk about poop,” Dean grimaces.
“Most healthy food is icky, but pho is just the best. My comfort meal,” you smile.
“Do you want to eat in here? You don’t need to get up if you can’t. We can bring you a little table to eat here if you want,” Sam rambles on.
“I want to eat with you guys,” you insist, getting up from your chair slowly.
The three of you walk to the table in the kitchen and you sit down. You lean over to eat, but you groan, your abdomen too weak to support you right now.
“Hey, let me help you,” Dean says, grabbing a spoon.
You watch his hand as he dips the spoon in the bowl, and brings the spoon up to your lips. It’s a little embarrassing, being babied like this from your older brothers. But you miss being their little baby sister too. You slurp up the soup and smile at Dean. Dean takes turns between feeding you and himself, asking you every now and then if you’re okay. You nod each time.
After eating, you get up, placing a hand on your back, almost holding yourself up as you walk.
“Hey, where are you going?” Dean asks, running up to you.
“I’m just going to take a walk around the bunker,” you let him know.
“Dean, stop smothering her, if she needs us, we’re here,” Sam tells Dean. Sam is the more rational of the two, so it makes sense he’s not as worried as Dean is.
Dean, on the other hand, is extremely protective. There’s no way he’s going to let his little sister be alone, even walking around the bunker. He places his hand on your back to support you. You roll your eyes.
“Dean, I’m a big girl,” you remind him.
“I don’t care how old you, you’re my sister. And you just got surgery done. What if you fall, or half way through the walk you get tired and you can’t walk back to your room?”
You sigh and give in to your brother’s help. It’s not that you don’t like the time with him, you do. But you don’t want to be babies so much. You spend a lot of time proving to your brothers how good of a hunter you could be, and now they see you as fragile again.
After a smoothie for dinner, and a couple of more walks here and there, you are already sleepy again. Not like anyone could blame you. The surgery, and the narcotics you took right before dinner and all the walking have you feeling sleepy.
You’re standing at the foot of your bed, debating if you’ll sleep in your recliner again or if you want to give your bed a try. Ah, what the hell, there’s always tomorrow to sleep in your bed. You grab your blanket and sit in the recliner, kick back, and close your eyes. It’s not easy to actually sleep though. You’re used to rolling around, sleeping on your side, stomach, and occasionally your back. But laying on you back, without being able to roll around? Not easy.
✰✰✰✰✰
You’re on an operating table, no doctors around. You’re wide awake, but unable to move. One look down, and your stomach is cut open, your organs spilling out of the cavity in your body. You let out a scream.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Dean bursts in through the door.
Your eyes shoot open and you look around, disoriented. You don’t know where you are at first.
“Where am I? Is it done? Did I die?” you panic.
“Woah, woah, you’re home. You’re in your room. You’re alive,” Dean assures you.
You let out a little gasp of pain and hold your stomach. The medicine wore off and you must’ve been dreaming about the pain. Dean brushes his thumb over your cheek only for you to realize he’s wiping your tears away.
“Did you have a bad dream?” He crouches down in front of you, as you manage to sit up. You nod, shoulders shaking as you let the cries come out.
“It was awful, I was open on an operating table, and… fuck, my stomach hurts Dean.”
Your brother wraps his arms around your shoulders. You cry for a little, letting it all out. You and Dean don’t say a word to each other, because nothing needs to be said. He knows you don’t feel okay, and you know you’re safe with him.
“I didn’t wake Sam up too, did I?” you ask.
Dean knows better than to lie to you, so he doesn’t. “Yeah, but I told him I got it, and that I’d wake him up if it was anything serious.”
You nod in response. Dean reclines your chair for you, so you can sleep, but he doesn’t leave your side. He sits at the edge of your bed, and runs his fingers through your hair, humming. Dean was awake with you the whole time at the hospital and now he’s awake with you again.
“Dean, you need to get some sleep,” you frown.
“I’m fine right here, baby sister.”
“ ‘M not a baby,” you mumble.
Dean hushes you as he resumes humming to you.
The next time you open your eyes, it’s morning, and dean is asleep on your bed. You carefully get up from the chair, taking your time. Then you shuffle your feet across the bunker floor, all the way to the bathroom. You lower yourself onto the toilet, and pull your phone out, and spend the next fifteen minutes scrolling through twitter. You’re startled as someone knocks on the door.
“Y/n, are you alright in there?” It’s Dean.
“Yeah, I’m just trying to… ya know, poop,” you tell him. “I don’t think I can do it.”
“Do what?” he asks through the door.
“Poop! I can’t poop! It hurts too much to push the poop out! Is that what you want to hear?” you groan, getting up from the toilet, pulling your pants up. You flush and wash your hands and open the bathroom door.
“You can’t poop?” Dean asks.
“My stomach hurts too much and I feel too weak to do it. I don’t want my stomach to get all backed up. If I can’t poop in two days I need to get laxatives,” you sigh.
“We will cross that bridge when we get to it,” Dean places his hands on your shoulders. “Sammy made breakfast.”
You nod, and walk over to the kitchen with Dean following closely behind you. You sigh, feeling like your brother is being a little too protective. But hey, Dean raised you, he’s going to be protective. Dean has been raising you since your mom, another hunter, died on the job. He’ll always see you as the baby you were when John brought you home.
Sam made some vegetable omelets for the three of you to eat. While you eat your breakfast, you take out your meds and swallow a pill with the meal. Sam asks you how you’re feeling and you tell him you’re feeling better than you thought you'd be. And after the medicine kicks in, you feel a lot better.
✰✰✰✰✰
The next week is filled with nightmares, lots of them. The ones combined with sleep paralysis as soon as you woke up are the worst, because even with your eyes open, the fact your stomach hurt and you were unable to move makes you think you’re back on the operating table. You’re eating, sure. Just enough. But you’re eating a lot less than usual, because you’re scared of what eating can do to you. It was good tasting food that triggered the gallstone attack that night, and you don’t want to eat like that ever again. Last night you woke up to yourself picking at the medical glue on your stomach. Nothing was bleeding, luckily but it still grossed you out.
The mood swings following surgery aren’t great either. It’s less a side effect of the surgery itself, and more a side effect of the drugs and the sleep deprivation. The first hour on the meds are great, you feel fine. Not euphoric, but you feel good. And then the good wears off and you feel like shit. So five days ago you decided to get off the narcotics. No pain is worth a drug dependency like this. Switching to the strong dosage of ibuprofen they’ve prescribed to you doesn’t sound too bad.
A week since surgery, and you’re up and walking almost like normal. Stairs aren’t too bad. Every fifteen minutes of walking you’re a little out of breath, but definitely better than you were a week ago. You just can’t wait for Jack and Castiel to come back, they can heal you. They’re off in heaven worrying about angel business. Of course you know if you prayed to them, they’d come back in a heartbeat. But you don’t want that. Especially from Cas. Cas has always been so selfless with you and your brothers, it doesn’t seem fair. But your face lights up, as you see the two walk into the bunker. They’re back.
“Cas! Jack!” you cheer.
“Hey, y/n!” Jack runs down the steps and runs up to hug you.
“Ow, shit,” you since in pain.
“What’s wrong,” Cas looks at you as he comes down the steps.
“I got my gallbladder removed,” you explain, lifting your shirt to expose your tummy.
“You should’ve told us. Just one prayer and we could’ve been here for you,” Jack frowns.
“You’re here now, that’s all that matters. It was minimally invasive, two week recovery until I’m basically one hundred percent, it’s not a big deal, Jack.”
“If you can, heal her,” Dean begs as he walks in. “She has not slept in her bed since she got back. I’ve been sleeping in her room to make sure she’s okay.”
“And I am okay, physically I’m fine!”
“Y/n, just let me heal you,” Jack pleads.
“Fine, I guess it would be nice to sleep in my bed,” you say.
Jack heals you, and you pick the glue off your stomach.
“Sweet, no scars!” You smile softly.
“How are you feeling, mentally?” Dean asks you.
“Mentally, I’m fine,” you insist.
“You’re not fine. You’re sleep deprived. Don’t think I haven’t caught on, I’ve been sleeping in your room with you. You’ve been having nightmares, you’re barely eating, you’re stressed, and a lot more quiet than you used to be. And like a Winchester, you’re keeping it all to yourself.”
“Dean-“
“Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to push it. But I’m here when you do feel like you can talk about it,” Dean says.
✰✰✰✰✰
Jack and you are sat on your bed. You should be sleeping, but you haven’t slept in your bed in a week and it feels weird now. Jack is close to your age… sort of… physically close to your age, it’s why you two are close friends.
“What was Dean talking about?” Jack asks you.
“Ah, knew you’d bring it up eventually. I’ve been having nightmares, about the surgery. It’s weird, it was so minor, but the pain before the surgery, I thought I was going to die. And waking up after surgery is so weird. It felt like sleep paralysis, which I’ve had during the past week as well. And taking narcotics then having to stop them because they felt a little too good wasn’t great. I just- I don’t know. I feel like I’m overreacting, I’m fine now. Especially thanks to you.”
It felt good to let it all out and talk to someone about it.
“Does Dean know?” Jack asks.
“Of course Dean knows, I don’t have to tell him, he knows. I don’t know if Sam caught on. Sam has been in charge of making sure I eat, he’s been making food that doesn't upset my stomach. And taking me on morning walks.”
“Your brothers love you a lot,” Jack says.
“Yeah. I got to admit, the attention was nice. Except with Dean following me almost everywhere. I mean like waiting outside while I showered in case I slipped,” you chuckle.
“You’ll feel like your old self again soon,” Jack assures you. “I can stay until you fall asleep if you want. Or even all night, in case you have another nightmare.”
“Thanks Jack.”
You turn off the light, lay down, and close your eyes.
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book-place · 1 year
Text
A Brothers Job
Warnings: mentions of John and hunting, violence/ fighting, slight cursing, mentions of blood,let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Dean Winchester x sister reader, Sam Winchester x sister reader
*not my gif*
Summary: Your brothers are always there to protect you, no matter what, no questions asked
A/N: This may or may not have been inspired from a scene in Avatar 2 that I thought of while watching it
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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Another day, another school.
That’s what you had been forced to get used to with your father being a hunter and your elder brothers following right behind him in his footsteps.
For every school you’d been to, you had made new friends, found new things that you loved to do, only to be forced to pack up and move once again as soon as the hunt was over with no consideration whatsoever for what you wanted or needed.
You shuffled through the hallway, head hung low and books clutched tightly to your chest as you tried to make your way to your next class without running into any of the students that had taken it upon themselves to make your time there a living hell. There were always bullies at your past schools, but for some reason, the ones here were ten times worse.
Of course, you never told either of your brothers because you knew they would throw a fit and then get into trouble with your father when they found out. And that would not be pretty for any of you.
All of a sudden, something hard pushed into your shoulder, causing your eyes to go wide and your arms spread out to the sides as you stumbled back, books flying every which way.
Derek, a guy from Dean's grade who had seemed particularly fond of picking on you, sneered down at you and reached out an arm to push against your shoulder, slamming your backwards into a locker, “Watch where you’re going, freak!” He jeered.
Behind him, a group of his friends laughed loudly, pointing at you as quickly reddening in the face from embarrassment as other students stopped in the halls to see what was happening.
You didn’t respond to his comment as you winced slightly from the impact of your back against the rusted metal and quickly bent down to try and pick up your materials. You wanted nothing more than to get out of there and get to class as fast as you could without any more confrontation.
“Hey,” Derek curled his lip in disgust as he peered down his nose at you, reeling his foot back before sending it straight to your ribs, “I was talking to you.”
A small yelp left your lips as his shoe connected and you fell to the side with a groan, rolling slightly as you held onto your surely bruised body.
“What the-“ Sam froze in his steps as he took in the sight before him- his little sister on the ground with a kid much older than both of them standing over her.
Without hesitation, he quickly rushed over and gently helped you up, “Are you okay?” He asked softly, eyes scanning up and down your face, and you bit down on your bottom lip, nodding slightly despite the pain.
“Move, jackass,” Derek hissed, “Unless you want to get the beating of your life, too.”
Sam tensed and his face hardened and jaw set in a way that you had never seen before, in a way that reminded you so much of Dean when he was angry.
With a dangerous glare on his face, your brother pivoted on his heel and stared Derek down, standing his ground as he shifted his body so that it was in front of you completely.
All around, people began to whisper and point, making Derek look around nervously as he realized they were wondering why he wasn’t going to fight back against this kid that was clearly so much smaller than he was. Was he scared?
He scoffed, trying to gain back whatever sad piece of pride he had just lost for hesitating, “That’s it, punk,” He hissed, balling his hand into a fist and sending it flying at Sam’s face before either of you had time to react.
You gasped, hands flying up to cover your mouth as you watched in horror, too shocked to even move as your brother was sent into the same locker you had just been pushed into moments before.
“Hey!” Dean had barely even registered what he was seeing when he was just trying to get to his next class. His gaze only set on his little siblings in pain, before red flared through his vision and he charged through the crowd, swinging his fist into Derek’s face before he knew what hit him. Hard.
A sickening crunch that you knew all too well to be the sound of a nose, a possibly a bit of jaw, breaking in the most painful way imaginable.
Sam had regained his footing and went to stand next to you, draping a comforting arm around your shoulders as you watched, still frozen, as your eldest brother hit the boy in front of him with more force than you had ever seen him use.
Curses were flying out of your brother's lips when he was finally forcefully pulled away by a teacher who had been nearby when the commotion had broken out.
Derek lay, moaning and rolling on the ground with blood coming out of his nose and too many visible bruises to count. You cringed as you thought about the wounds that couldn’t even be seen.
“You three,” The principal snapped, pushing his way through the crowd of shocked students with his chest panting up and down as if he had just run a marathon, “My office, now.”
With that, he turned on his heel and marched away, clearly expecting you all to follow.
Dean scowled at the teacher who was still holding onto him and harshly shrugged off his hands before he made his way over to you, kicking Derek’s legs out of the way.
“Are you two okay?” He asked, and though his voice was gruff, his eyes were soft in a way that only you and Sam could decipher.
Both of you nodded your head, shoulders sagging tiredly.
“Now, will one of you explain to me why the hell I just hit that kid for whatever he was doing?” His voice was dropped so that no one around you, even the ones trying to lean closer, could hear what was being said.
“He hit Y/n,” Sam explained, “I don’t know why either, but I tried to help too.”
Those were your brothers. Always willing to step in whenever it involved you without question, never caring who they got on the wrong side of.
Dean was silent for a moment before nodding and training his eyes on you, “How hard did he hit you?” He asked lowly, dangerously.
“Hard enough.” You whispered, wincing slightly as you tried to feel your ribs.
Just as the eldest Winchester sibling looked like he was about to turn around and unleash his protective rage once more, you grabbed his arm and made him look at you, “Don’t,” You stressed, “It’s not worth it.”
He hesitated, clearly torn between doing what you asked and ripping that kid's lungs out. But, he eventually sided with you and allowed his muscles to relax under your grip.
“Come on,” He mumbled, letting you both go in front of him so that you could go down to the office.
On the way past, Sam made sure to give Derek a swift kick in the ribs for good measure before continuing to walk, ignoring the glare he received from the school nurse who was just crouching down in front of the sprawled out boy.
“Thank you, guys,” You whispered genuinely.
“No need to thank us,” Dean said, reaching over and squeezing your shoulder once with a small smile, “We’re your older brothers, it’s our job.”
Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373
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deangirlsstuff67 · 1 year
Text
Good Girl
MOC! Dean x Reader
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Warnings: Praise, sex toys, MOC! Dean, bondage, Unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, anal play, P in V, dirty talk
Summary: Dean and Sam are fighting yet again. You hear glass shatter against a wall, followed by a very angry Sam slamming his door. Feeling brave, you go in search of Dean.
Masterlist | Patreon
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They're at it again. Those two fight worse than a married couple these days. Makes sense given the current situation we all find ourselves living in. I just don't think angering Dean is the wisest choice, he's already on the edge most days. It would take a soft wind to blow him over.
Sadly, your new to hunting, meaning the guys don't listen to you on a good day. Couple years ago Dean and Sam saved your crazy ass when a nest of vampires came to town and killed your family. You are 22 years old and bought the boys enough whiskey at the local bar to make them agree you could come back to the bunker.
Dean tries to avoid you as much as possible. While you don't get the feeling he hates you, you do know you make him uncomfortable.
Sam has taken you under his wing as a little sister. Teachs you the basics of fighting and makes you read lore book after lore book. And in this place I think I'll be dead before I get through it all.
Even Cas has taken a liking to you. He teaches you about angels and you teach him how to be less awkward, it's sort of working.
Glass shattering brings you back to the present.
Well fuck, that can't be a good sign. Moments later heavy, angry foot steps deasend the hallway and a door slams. Sam's door, meaning Dean's still out there... pissed.
With a loud sigh you get out of bed. You're wearing one Dean's flannels and black lacy underwear. You've always had a crush on the older Winchester. Tonight you're hoping the outfit will work like armor. Dean's a ladies man after all, and your not bad looking if you say so yourself.
Slowly and quietly you make your way towards the command center in search of the ticking time bomb known as Dean. This is most definitely a bad idea but you can't stand the thought of him alone with all that rage running through his veins.
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The scene you walk in on saddens your soul. Dean has the bottle of amber liquor sitting beside him as he stares at the wall and broken glass. So lost in his own head he doesn't hear me coming until I'm standing in front of him.
Those bright green eyes rake up and down my body, the farther they travel the darker they become. When he drags his eyes back to mine they are damn near pitch black. Lust sparkling in them.
Oh fuck.
You try to sound strong and confident, but let's face it this man melts you into a puddle at his feet.
"Dean..." your voice is higher than normal, barely above a whisper, "are you o... okay?"
His breathing is labored, coming out in deep puffs that shake his shoulders. To look at him you'd think he was on the verge of murder. But it's his eyes, they tell a very different story.
"That’s my shirt y/n." The way your name rolls of his tongue is dangerous. Sending a warmth straight to your core, making you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together.
His eyes snap down to your soaking core. Shit, he noticed. Of course he did, wouldn't be a good hunter if he didn't have reflexes of a cat.
"I didnt think you'd mind. I need to do laundry. " You go to reach for his hand but he stands abruptly. Without a word he turns to leave the room, and you.
Why Dean.
Not this time. You rush him from behind but your plan back fires. Next thing you know Dean has you pinned against the wall and his hard body. Very hard... ALL of it.
After a couple moments of silence you have to ask, "why do you always run from me?"
A smile curls those perfectly soft lips before he lightly pumps his hips into yours, making his hard cock rub deliciously against your dripping core.
Well fuck, it's not that he hates me, it's that he likes me... a lot.
Now or never y/n.
Feeling brave you look him dead in the eye and ask, "why don't you use some of that pent up anger for some good big guy?" Finishing off by grabbing his cock through his jeans, hard.
Groaning, Dean rips you off the wall and down the hall.
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Bondage. Should have seen this coming in hindsight. The man thrives on control. Even more so now.
Here I am tied to Dean's bed via handcuffs. The beautiful specimen in his black boxers looking down at me as he pushes the small vibrator straight onto my bundle of nerves, again.
"Such a good girl for me. Think you have one more in that tight little pussy for me?" He moves a finger down to the plug he worked into my tight channel and softly taps.
My head is spinning from the previous orgasms he's pulled from my body already, the most I can do is let out a loud moan in answer.
This is a side of Dean I've never experienced before. He's enjoying making me cock drunk. Thriving on the power it supplies him. At least if the ever growing wet spot at the top of his boxers is any indication.
"Beg me sweetheart. Beg for my cock to fill you, stretch you." My eyes are closed but I know he's close. I can feel his hot breath on my cheek as he leans down to whisper in my ear.
"Dean... pl.. please can I.. I have your co.. cock"
"You're sound so pretty when you beg Princess." He lifts the vibrator off my clit just before another orgasm rips through my body. I whimper at the lose making him laugh.
Before I have time to protest my lose, Dean positions himself between my shaking thighs and feeds his rock hard dick into my soaking core.
Groans echo off the walls of his room as we adjust to the feel of each other. He's huge. That big dick cocky energy isn't a lie, the man's packing.
"Y/N you feel amazing wrapped around my cock." Slowly he pulls out until nothing but the tip is left then he slams back in. Handcuffs rattling from the movement.
He takes me hard and fast. Working both of us into a frenzy of moans and whimpers. Soon I'm clamping down on his cock making it harder for him to pull out as I scream his name and flood his member and thighs.
It's all it takes to send him over the edge as he joins me. Rope after rope of warm cum fills my quivering walls. He's Cummings so hard I can feel it begin to leak out of me and down my thighs.
Dean collapses onto my worn-out body. Only moving to undo the handcuffs and bring my arms down to massage as he catches his breath. Once we are back on planet Earth, he eases his soften dick from my abused core, the mixture of us leaking out.
Memorized for a moment, he takes his fingers and gently pushes it back inside me, causing my to whimper.
Dean smiles down at me, satisfied and moves to the bathroom to clean up and bring me a wet cloth. After he's done cleaning us up, he grabs my body and man handles it to a postion of his liking as we cuddle together.
Moments pass in silence before Dean speaks, "thank you. That was exactly what I needed to calm the mark. You're amazing sweetheart."
"Anything for you Dean."
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"
A soft giggle leaves my lips, "not in a bad way."
Dean sends me a naughty smirk and wink before taking my lips in a passionate kiss.
"Get some rest Princess, I have plans for us when we wake."
It's the last I hear before sleep takes my exhausted body into the land of slumber, dreaming of tomorrow and what awaits me.
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