#samxsister!reader

[hopefulphotos]

It was never about her,

But then.

Their happy ending.

Their story, them.

She walked in their shadows, their legends

She was a sidekick in the story and she was fine with it. As long as she could have their backs

Because she always knew how her story would end.

Protecting them.

It was never her story

But theirs.

Theirs happy ending

#reader #x reader #supernatural #poetry #poem #spn x reader #sister!reader #my art #writing #fandom x reader #daughter!reader #dewnxsister!reader #samxsister!reader #sadness #sad poem #npc #my story #sandman

[supernatural-freek]

Two Wheels on the Way to Hell

Dean x Sister!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Synopsis: It’s been a long time since Dean has heard your name out loud. God knows he didn’t want it to be like this

NOTE: Sorry this took so long, gosh! I’ve been very busy with working on an original novel, and I’ve also been working through a Diploma of Business. I hope you like it!

REQUESTED

MASTERLIST 

The phone rang.

Dean stared at it for a moment, tempted to just let it ring and ring and ring until it rang out and then the silence could return. He stared, long and hard, and he waited. And waited. The ringing stopped. He relaxed. The ringing started anew. He tensed again.

Sam cleared his throat and frowned, watching his brother watch the phone. “You gonna answer it?” He asked very quietly, even though he knew Dean wouldn’t. Dean wouldn’t pick up, because it wouldn’t be Cas waiting on the other end.

“I don’t recognise the number.” Dean’s voice, so gruff after days of disuse and misuse and ragged panic attacks that tore his throat to shreds, made Sam wince away. Who knew that the one way to kill Dean Winchester was to kill the angel he’d loved.

The phone rang again. Sam reached across the table, didn’t spare the number a glance, and answered it.

“Sam Winchester,” he greeted politely. “Who is this?”

“Hi Sam,” an unfamiliar female voice answered. “This is Wichita Specialty Hospital calling. I’m looking for your brother, Dean?”

Sam’s frown deepened, and he spared his brother a lost look. Dean just stared back at him with a dead look. “Dean’s unavailable at the moment,” Sam said evenly, looking away again. God, he hated to see his brother like this. “Can I take a message?”

“Actually, if Dean isn’t there at the moment, I’d like to talk to you. You are the brother of Y/N Winchester, correct?”

Sam’s veins froze. His heartbeat got loud. The world faded away. He couldn’t breathe properly. Why did his ribs hurt? “Yes,” he breathed out shakily. “Yeah, she’s my older sister.”

Dean made a wounded noise and stood up. 

“We’re currently caring for her here. She had a bad motorcycle crash, and it recovering in our Neuro/Trauma Recovery wing. You and Dean are of course, listed as next of kin.”

Sam’s tongue was numb and yet not-numb, and really he just wanted to wake up now. “How bad is it?”

The nurses voice went softer, sympathy bleeding into her tone. Sam gritted his teeth. He didn’t want sympathy. “She was in a coma for a week. She’s awake, but her progress is slow. We’re worried that we may lose her at this rate. That’s why we called. We would like you and your brother to stop by, so the correct paperwork and contingency plans may be completed.”

“We’ll be there tomorrow.” Sam hung up, cutting off whatever response the nurse had been giving him. 

Fuck.

You were in hospital. 

That fucking motorbike.

“Where are we going?” Dean already had the car keys in hand, wearing a fresh flannel and his boots. His forest eyes, though still dull, were determined and angry. Sam hurried after him.

“Wichita Specialty Hospital,” he said. He pretended not to notice the way Dean’s hands shook when they gripped the wheel.

It was all falling apart.

.

“Fuck Y/N,” Sam breathed shakily, reaching out and gripping onto your limp hand. Your foggy eyes didn’t shift and you continued to stare vacantly at the wall. 

Dean stood off to the side, jaw clenched hard enough that Sam actually thought he might break some teeth. “I told her,” he said. “I warned against that fucking bike.”

“You also told her that she was the family outcast, so I really don’t think she was going to listen to you.”

Dean looked away. He had a lot of regrets about you, his baby sister. You were the middle child, always the one to fade into the background, seep through the cracks, get left behind in a motel because John didn’t give a fuck about the girl who had Mary’s eyes and Mary’s smile.

Dean had driven away too. 

Dean had done a more damage than John though. He’d never forgiven himself for that.

And now you were here, nothing more than an empty body with head trauma so severe you had seizures every other hour and you had minimal cognitive functions, and-

What else had the nurse said-

You-

Fucking-

He couldn’t think-

He-

“Dean!” Sam’s voice was sharp but not angry, and Dean snapped back to himself harsh enough to prompt a headache to erupt in his head. He winced. Sam didn’t comment, merely motioned with his eyes to your face. “Hey, she’s looking at you.”

Oh. So you were. Vacant eyes stared through Dean, seeing all the way down to his withered and brittle soul. He curled his shoulders inward. “Y/N,” he said, voice splintering and breaking and crumbling to dust. 

It was all he could say. Your name.

There was no response. Dean didn’t really know why he was surprised. 

Paralysed.

The word came to him between one blink and the next, slamming through his veins like a fucking drug - making his legs weak, his arms throb, his chest hurt. The crash had done something to your spine, and you were paralysed and brain dead and-and-and-

John would have said, “Put her down.”

Dean didn’t know how not to say that to Sam. Maybe he was too much like his father. Maybe there really was no saving him. 

“Dean,” Sam said quietly. “I know that look. We’re gonna help her.”

But Dean didn’t want to. It was selfish and horrible and wrong, but they didn’t have Cas anymore and you looked so pathetic and if you weren’t going to get better-

“That fucking bike,” he said again, because if there was one thing he blamed almost as much as he blamed himself, it was that fucking motorcyle. It was always gonna be that fucking motorcyle.

Sam sighed, like he’d expected it. “The doctors say she may recover with help from brain stimulant medication-”

“And then what?” Dean snapped. “She’s paralysed. We don’t have Cas to help her out. She won’t ever be a hunter again, Sam! It’ll kill her to know that when she gets better.”

She won’t ever get better.

Sam’s lips went dangerously thin. “You’re giving up on her?”

“Yes.” Dean suddenly felt very, very tired. “Yes I am.”

“You never gave up on me.”

“I’m finding that I’m giving up on everything lately. Y/N wouldn’t appreciate us confining her to doctors and medicine and hospitals for the rest of her life. Think about Bobby.”

“Dean-”

“Think about us, Sam. What would you do if you woke up in hospital, paralysed, with lasting brain injuries! You’d hate it! I’d probably kill myself!”

“Dean!”

Dean threw his hands up, because he was tired and he was losing everyone he loved, and he really just wanted to go find somewhere quiet and dark and go to sleep and yeah maybe he didn’t want to wake up.

Sam shook his head. “We can’t kill her.”

Dean stared at him hollowly, feeling the last ember of passion wither away and vanish under the dark blanket of depression and hopelessness. “We already have.”

Let the damn world save itself.

Dean was done.

.

Sam wasn’t in the room when the nurses put you to sleep for the final time. Fuck it, he wasn’t even in the state. Dean was.

Dean watched, and Dean signed the paperwork, and Dean burned your body.

.

And Dean was the one who slept with a gun under his fingers, so that when he woke up with your name on his lips, he could stare at it until the sun came up.

Sam didn’t talk about you again.

Sam let his phone ring.

Dean sat and let the silence eat away whatever sort of destiny he had left.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural oneshot #supernatural dean #supernatural sam #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean winchester #sister!winchester #sister!winchester fic #supernatural angst #supernatural-freek #deanxsister!reader #samxsister!reader #requested

[fictionalabyss]

A Winchester by blood.

Pairing : Winchesters x Sister!reader. John (mentioned), Adam (Mentioned) Lucifer & Michael (Mentioned) Word count : 2,151 Warnings : Angsty. Dean is less than thrilled. Maybe he redeems himself a little. Read to find out.

A/N : This was written for @miss-spnm0mma and her 200 follower challenge. My prompt was : “I did not make a pie for three reasons. One, because I do not have any pie ingredients. Two, because I don’t actually know how to make pie. And three, because I’m not your bitch.”

You remembered the first time you found out who you really were. You were in a bar and Dean was hitting on your friend, so that left you talking to Sam. Interest was there, until something you said peaked the interest of an older man seated close by.

After answering a few questions for him, you asked why he wanted to know these things. You got your answer.

You were a Winchester by blood.

So were the three of them.

Dean had stormed off pissed when he heard how old you were. Just a few months younger than Sam.

You remembered when you found out the whole truth of who you really were. A voice called out to you, asking you for permission.  You thought you were crazy.

And then there were two, fighting for you.

You had a number for John that you hadn't used in years. He had barely been there after finding you, so when he seemed to vanish, you figured he'd lost interest. But you called, planning to just ask about family history of mental illness while you debated checking into a mental hospital. No one answered.

John had also left you a number for emergencies. It was Dean's.

You drove out of town and met him in a diner somewhere. He rudely and carelessly told you John had died years ago. When you questioned why you weren't called, he'd simply said “Why would you be? You're not one of us.”

You slapped him across the face with everything you had and stormed out. That was your first fight with Dean, and not your last.

Sam found you outside crying and you broke down completely, sobbing as he held you. He lead you to the motel they were staying in, and while he did so, he laughed about you slapping his brother. “Oh yeah, you're a Winchester.”

Once calmed down and sitting quietly in the motel room, he asked why you had suddenly needed to meet. You told him of the voices and his face paled. Quickly, he pulled out his phone. “Dean, we got another possible vessel. Michael and Lucifer, and it sounds like they're fighting over who gets her while they wait for us.” Your face paled.

Dean walked in and, reluctantly, filled you in on everything. All of it. At first you had laughed, shaking your head. “I guess insanity does run in the family… at least now I know..”

Your mind changed two nights later when the Angels showed up to try and get a yes for Michael. You ran back to the brother who hated you faster than you'd ever done anything in your life.

And then the apocalypse came and went. You mourned Sam, and Adam, who you had only met the one time, and then tried to move on.

But the hunting world kept pulling you back in. You were a Winchester by blood, and every baddy on the planet seemed to know it.

It took a long time to hunt him down, but years after saying goodbye, you got a hold of your big brother, told him you were in trouble, and he groaned. “Yeah, Yeah, head to Lebanon, call when you get here.” And he hung up.

When you finally walked into the bunker, you froze seeing Sam get up from where he sat reading. “Sam… you- you were..”

“Just in the cage, not dead.” he chuckled. “I've died a few times since.. but alive and well for now.”

You turned to Dean. “You couldn't tell me that!? You let me think he was dead!”

“Hey, I thought he was gone too!” he shouted back. “I had a life, a family, until he showed up at my door a year later, and he wasn't exactly-”

You slapped him across the face again, stunning him. “Years, Dean. You knew how hard I took it, and not once in all those years did you think to call and tell me?”

“You’re not a Winchester.” He growled and stormed off, leaving you and Sam where you were.

“In his defense,” Sam started. “I wasn’t exactly me when I came out.” He gave you a tight lipped smile. “I had no soul.”

“Doesn’t matter, Sam. He had years to tell me you were alive. I mourned you.” You looked up at him.

“So did he.” Sam answered quietly. “More than once.”

While you stayed in the bunker, you tried your hardest to keep from fighting with Dean. But that was easier said than done. He was barely letting you settle in. You felt like you had one foot out the door, which he’d throw in your face, and you scream at him that he was the one pushing you out.

A few days became a week. A week became a month. A month became three.

You were well into cooking when he walked into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” He asked roughly. “I told Sammy I was cooking tonight.”

“I’ve been cooking for an hour, Dean.” You turned, and he rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever. Don’t eat it if you don’t want to. I need to get started on desert. When I’m done in here, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“I like pie.” He grumbled before leaving the room.

“That’s good for you.”

They were sitting, and you served them first, letting them start eating while you waited the last two minutes for desert to be done in the oven. Sam happily commented on how good dinner was, but Dean didn’t say a word as he ate.

The timer went off, and you reached into the oven to pull out the chocolate cupcakes, placing them on top of the stove to cool. You pulled off the oven mitts and picked up your plate as Dean looked over and spoke.

“What happened to the pie? We eat pie, here. Not cake.”

Taking a deep breath, you shut your eyes and willed down the anger that had been building for months. You could hear Sam kick his brother under the table, but he just ignored it. And you’d had enough.

“I did not make a pie for three reasons. One, because I do not have any pie ingredients.” You slowly turned towards them, plate in hand. “Two, because I don’t actually know how to make pie. And three, because I’m not your bitch.” You slammed your plate down onto the table, food falling off it from the impact and you stormed out.

“Way to go, Dean.” Sam sighed, letting his elbows rest on the table. “If you were trying to force her to leave, I think you finally succeeded. Hope you’re happy.”

You were standing in your room, back to the door and eyes closed. You could hear his footsteps coming closer. You waited until he stepped in the room to speak, without turning to look at him. “Why does he hate me so much?” Sam didn’t think you had heard him come in, so he was taken aback for a moment. “You don’t.. Do you?” You turned to look at him now, eyes full of pain and anger.

Sam sighed. “No, I don’t hate you.” He shook his head. “Dean is…” He leaned against the door frame as he thought about what to say, and how to word it all. “I’m going to be honest with you. I wasn’t thrilled either, to find out you were our sister. At first.”

“But we’ve been fine for years, you and me. Or would have been had I known you were fucking alive. He’s fine with Adam.. so what’s wrong with me? Is it because I’m a girl?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Then what the fuck did I do!?” You screamed.

“Dean has something I never had.” Sam could see the tears brimming in your eyes, and he needed to try and find a way to make you understand.

“What, Sam? Other than the stick up his ass.”

“Memories.” He answered quietly, eyes on you.

“Memories? Of what?”

“Mom and dad. Happy, not so happy.” Sam shrugged. “Mom died when I was 6 months old, you would have been just about 2 months?” You knew he wasn’t looking for an actual answer to that, so you stayed quiet. “Dean was pissed when we found out about Adam.” Sam chuckled sadly. “We both were. Because Adam got something we didn’t get. A dad. Our dad would visit him, birthdays, take him to ball games.. With us, dad wasn’t even around on Christmas. Most of my memories are just me and Dean waiting for dad.”

“So, what, because I didn’t grow up with John, fuck me?”

“No. No.. Adam happened when our mom was already dead. He couldn’t fault dad for that.. But you..”

“Your mom was still alive..” You breathed out.

Sam nodded. “He has memories that were happy, but somewhere, in those happy memories, his dad was with another woman, making another family. He was pissed at dad for that.. He was really pissed at dad for that. Even with the memories of them being separated from time to time, mom was always up on this pedestal, untouchable. Perfect. And mom and dads love.. They were soulmates. Unbreakable, once in a lifetime kinda love. Like, fairy tales. Those were truths he held on to, even dad held on to those truths. But you’re living breathing proof that they aren’t as true as he thinks.” You stood there quietly, letting it all sink in. “No matter how Dean feels, you’re our sister. You’re family. Family doesn’t get left behind.”

“Except Adam.” You mumbled, and Sam froze at that. “And me. We’ll never really be family, will we? John’s kids or not. We’ll never be family.” He watched you wipe a tear of your cheek and turn your back to him again.

“Y/N..” You ignored him, the conversation had run its course and Sam felt horrible. Turning, he headed up the hall, giving you some space.

After Sam’s footsteps had long gone silent, you grabbed your suitcase and started packing. You folded things carefully and deliberately as you packed them away and sniffled.

“What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Dean? I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“Maybe go back home?” There was silence. “I don’t know, anywhere but here.”

“This is home.”

“No, Dean, this is your home. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

“It’s yours too, you’re family-”

“Am I?” Your anger was starting to show again. You’d always had a temper, and it was rearing its ugly head once again.

“You think I’d let you in here if you weren’t?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, lucky for you, Dean, I’ve always been a firm believer in ‘Fuck blood, make your own family’. So fuck you. Blood obviously doesn’t mean shit to you past Sam, anyways.” You were angry folding clothes and shoving them in the suitcase, now.

Dean growled, getting frustrated. “That’s bullshit.”

“No, you know what’s bullshit? You’re bullshit.” You pointed at him. “You’re punishing me for something I didn’t do! Your father fucked my mom, GET OVER IT! You don’t want me around, just fucking say so. Grow some god damn balls, Dean. Because I don’t deserve this. You treat me like I stole him from you, I didn’t. I was just fucking born.” Your hands went up, then fell back to your sides. “And thank you, dear brother, for making me fucking regret being born at all.”

Your slammed the lid of your suitcase closed and zipped it. Grabbing the handle you went to storm past him, but he took hold of the handle, his hand closing over yours. “You’re not going. They’ll hunt you-”

“Like you care. One more of John’s kids out of your way.” You saw how those words hurt him, and part of you regretted saying them, but you were tired of how he’d been treating you.

He seemed to deflate. “You’re f-”

“I swear to fucking god, Dean.” You shook your head. “If you feed me some ‘you’re family’ bullshit like Sam did, I’m going to slap you upside your dumbass head.”

His eyes met yours for a moment, half his mouth curving up into a smile and he chuckled. He actually stood there and chuckled, his eyes closing, his face relaxing.

“What’s so fucking funny? I’ve slapped you before, I’ll do it again-”

“You sound just like dad.” He smiled. “Maybe you are a Winchester after all. Come on.” He took the suitcase from you and put it aside before walking out.

“What?” He had started down the hall out of view, so you walked just past the doorway and looked out at him. “Where? Why?”

“Kitchen.” He didn’t stop walking, didn’t wait to be sure you’d follow, he just spoke over his shoulder.  “You didn't eat. While you eat, I’m going to teach you to make pie. We’re Winchesters, sweetheart. We eat pie.”

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Tagging : Dean - @evyiione   @soythedemonqueen   @deanandsamsbitch @akshi8278 @haelyn   @aubreystilinski @hobby27 @anjiep24 

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[thewinsisterchronicles]

Lions

Request: Could you write a songfic for the Song lions by skillet?

Word Count: ~4 000

Warnings: cursing, gore (blood, multiple stab wounds, gunshots), reference to previous gore (internal bleeding), angst/sadness all around

A/N: sorry i had exams and then writers block and yeah it’s a lame excuse but that’s all i got for you right now:/ also i didn’t really know what to write for this fic (but i managed!! I think) so i kinda just took how this made me feel and tried to write it out :)

Y/N shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the dirt sideroad Dean had parked on only 12 hours before. The impala hummed underneath her as she backed out onto the road. The smooth road was all she could focus on as she drove straight by their motel. They had all they needed, and there was only a few clothing items that were there. She couldn’t bring herself to stop for even a moment; any second she wasn’t focused on the road blurred her vision and pushed down the gas pedal a little bit farther. She drove right out past the Come back again soon! sign that marked the town exit without much of a second thought.

There wasn’t anything she really wanted to think about anyways.

Breathe.

Somewhere along the way, she’d realized that her brothers weren’t behind her. Maybe between the gash dripping into her eyes and the way her ankle popped in and out of place every couple seconds had distracted her. Maybe she only noticed when she broke the edge of the clearing and slowed for a second to look for the sleek black car she knew so well. Maybe she just thought them invincible; the Winchesters, notoriously infamous for scaring off even Death himself. She could trust them enough that they’d overcome anything that came at them.

But you can’t defy death and live to tell the tale.

Y/N stood at the edge of the clearing for another couple minutes before trudging right back in. Even wounded, her brothers often ran ahead of her. Not too far that they couldn’t reach her in a moment’s notice, of course, but it wasn’t likely that they were ahead of her. Now, as she scanned her surroundings, something began to build up in her chest. Flashes of every hunt gone wrong sped in front of her eyes, a collage of curses and blood and shallow breathing she couldn’t hear over her own. Suddenly it was dizzying, and she was lucky to catch herself on something- she couldn’t quite see what it was- before she crumbled. Dean’s voice, bright and clear as her vision, rang through her head.

Breathe.

She swallowed. Straightening herself up only proved that the clicking noise in her back wasn’t always harmless. Gritting her teeth, she shuffled her way pack, slowly picking up the pace until she was running back to the old house she’d just managed to escape. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Fighting angels and demons and everything in between had let Y/N’s memory slip; the werewolves had been stronger than she anticipated, and something of confusion washed over the three before they realized that they couldn’t rely on prophets and lone supernatural entities for tips and tricks for each of their hunts. They were still good at what they did (“Winchesters!” one of the older ones had shouted before they attempted to break down the doors that had already been boarded up) but being out of practice began to show when they’d reduced the pack to fight one-on-one.

Until Y/N noticed one slip out through the door they’d come in through.

Obviously, her first instinct was to rush out and deal with him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard her brothers call out to her, telling her to stay, but it was all white noise in the back of her mind; she could do this. She had to.

It was clear that this was their first fight. Y/N had dealt with them in less than ten minutes before leaning against a tree for some support. Her brothers, she had assumed, would be there soon. It wasn’t that long of a hunt, and none of them were eager to stay any longer than they had to. She had caught her breath for a minute more before turning around.

If only she hadn’t waited.

The cabin was quiet when she came back. Of course, her brothers naturally knew not to make noise, but this… this was different. It rang through the woods and pricked up the hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck. Her footsteps thundered and echoed down the hallway like a metronome, fading into the background as she stepped over pool after pool of wetness that drew up bile in her throat. It finally led to the main room where she’d last seen her brothers. A startled sound of something between a moan and a gasp escaped her mouth like a sob of relief when she saw one of the werewolves on the floor. Her eyes wandered over to the staircase across from her, the faintest trace of a bloodied footprint imprinted on every other step. It was too small for her brothers, quite clearly.

“Someone’s in a rush,” Y/N murmured, stepping over the body and making her way up the stairs, careful to not disturb to the prints.

Y/N’s feet made no sound as she entered the upper level and checked the first three rooms. All were empty of bodies or blood, but the fourth door was opened just a crack. Lights were on inside, halting Y/N. She held her breath, waiting for some sort of sign that might lead her to her brothers. There was nothing. She nudged open the door with her boot.

There was barely any time to register the clatter of her gun on the floor before she was shoving the door open, denting the wall where the knob slammed into it as Y/N rushed over and dropped down to where she saw her brother.

Sam was on the floor, limbs splayed at uncomfortable angles that made Y/N bite down her lunch that was working its way up her throat. Her hands hovered restlessly, afraid to touch him like he’d bite her if he did. Finally she rested two of her right fingers on his neck checking for a pulse. Feeling nothing, she pushed harder.

“Damn it, Sam,” she whispered. Her voice cracked on her brother’s name, swallowing thickly when she shuffled back hurriedly to flip him over.

His front was covered in blood, red and staunchy and dried at the edges. Where Y/N dared to look, she saw multiple stab wounds. Her hands were suddenly climbing his, like they could coax life back into them. She noticed bruises around his wrists, matching the ones on his neck. He had been bound. And stabbed. Six times.

Y/N threw up against the far wall. Her instinct threw her away from her brother’s body, as though Sam would magically get up and reprimand her for getting his jacket dirty.

But he wouldn’t wake up. He’d never wake up. Because Sam was dead and he was gone and there was no way she could bring him back because Dean wouldn’t let her-

Dean.

Her eyes flew around the room, throat burning from the upheaval that suddenly didn’t even matter anymore. She was vaguely aware that her eyes strayed as far as possible from Sam’s body, but paid it no mind. Dean could help her. Dean would solve this problem. He always did.

But Dean wasn’t there.

“Dean.” She stood up, shaking legs and shuddering breaths hiding themselves behind a strong voice that Y/N didn’t know she had. It echoed in the room, the only noise in an otherwise silent house. She began to make her way out of the room. “Dean, where are you?”

About halfway through the door, her body froze. Sam was still there. He was still in the room, cold and alone and bleeding out on the rug so intensely that Y/N couldn’t tell what colour it was. She fought another wave of bile.

She would come back. It killed her and she wanted to slump on the wall and let the tears and snot run down her face and have Sam wake her up from the nightmare this surely was and tell her that it’d be okay, that he was still alive.

But he wasn’t. So she couldn’t.

Y/N walked down the hall.

There were no other floors. Y/N vaguely remembered seeing a widows walk on the roof, but doubted either Winchester would venture up there. Dean would piss himself. She smirked at the thought before remembering her situation.

Dean hadn’t responded to her calls earlier. Obviously, there were multiple explanations for that, but Y/N didn’t really like any of them. Best case scenario, he was being held captive for some sort of ransom or whatever. Worst case….

Didn’t matter. She’d find him. She always did.

The second floor was made up of a hallway that circled around the walls, with rooms on the outside, with the first floor visible from anywhere Y/N had walked. It was a simple rectangle, meaning that she had a view of every space in the main room on the first floor. It was a mess, to say the least; fighting monsters wasn’t exactly a clean fight, in any sense of the word. By now, Y/N had circled the top landing, checking in rooms and calling out her brother’s name every few minutes. Dean would scold her. Sam would take her side, but give her that look that said you should know better, please be safe, don’t you ever do that again. She risked it, but it didn’t really feel like she was taking a chance with anything. She had nothing to lose.

Her brother was dead. Her other sibling was missing. She wanted to throw up- again.

She jutted her jaw out to the side, sucking her cheeks into her mouth in that way Dean always made fun of her for. If he could see her right now, he’d laugh, shoving her gently as he taunted her with things like nice duckface and if that’s how your first kiss is gonna be then I’m not sure you’ll get a second one and all those things that never failed to make her roll her eyes.

“Move y’r jaw any farther over an’ it’ll unhinge,” a voice called from behind Y/N. Her gun was trained on the source before her eyes focused on it. They laughed.

Oh no.

Oh no.

No.

“Dean?” her voice shook almost as hard as her hands, body tensing as she heard his rumbling laughter.

“You’re gonna drop th’ gun if y’don’t stop shakin,’” he chuckled. She was by his side in a second, gun haphazardly dropped somewhere along the way. The room was dark, but her eyes quickly adjusted when she saw the deep stain in his chest. Her hands hovered uncertainly, for the second time today, as she tried to slow her thoughts and breathing and just take a second to pull herself together.

“Gun, gauze, get outta there,” she whispered; her mantra after years of training coming forward compulsively after her father had drilled it there. “Gun gauze, get outta there. Gun, gauze, get outta there. Gun, gauze-”

“Hey.” Dean’s hands came up to hers where one had reached out for her gun while the other reached in one of her jacket pockets for one of the bandages Y/N had used to save her brothers’ lives more than she cared to count (they still made fun of her, saying she was overprotective; she still kept them in her pocket). “Y/N, s’alright. M’fine. Really.”

“Bitch, you’ve been stabbed.” She looked at him in exasperation, peeling away the layer of his outer jacket. “Let me get you out of here.”

“You know I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N froze. Her body began to shake; not like before, vibrating like she was feeling the aftershocks of an earthquake. She was trembling like the moments before the ground would open up and swallow her whole. It was the shakey tremor of an untrained hand like the first time she stitched herself up- the minute quivers that seized up her body, her mind, her everything she relied on and she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but look at her brother and will herself to speak.

“Don’t you say that,” she finally whispered. “Not you. You don’t get to leave me.”

“Y/N,” he tried softly.

“No,” she tried again, harder. “You can’t. I- I can’t- Dean, not you too. I can’t lose you, too.”

Dean stilled his movements.

“Too?”

Her eyes moved to his hairline, counting every strand like they weren’t starting to blur together. She moved her hands towards the gauze, moving her hand to sit Dean up when he grabbed it.

“Y/N.” His voice was low, wary; Y/N hated it, hated that nothing good ever came when he used it. “Tell me-” It broke off before he could finish. He cleared his throat. “Tell me. Is- is Sammy…?”

Y/N didn’t even realize she was crying until her lips tasted salty. Dean’s face matched hers.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I wasn’t there and- and by the time I got there… Dean, he was- he already-” Y/N hurriedly moved her hand to wipe away at her face. “I’m sorry. I tried. I couldn’t do... I couldn’t do anything.”

Dean didn’t say anything. He just looked at her. She couldn’t handle it.

“You gotta sit up, Dean,” she said. Her voice wobbled as she spoke, but it was better than breaking and whispering and all those things. “I gotta bandage you, Dean. Then we can….”

In all honestly, she wasn’t really sure what they could do. Her brother was dead, and by the looks of it her other sibling would join him soon. Y/N pushed the thought out of her mind.

“Y/N-” Dean started, coughing into his shoulder.

She couldn’t tell if the blood had already been there before.

“Take it easy.” Her hands hovered over his body, unsure of what to do. He was only shot; she’d dealt with worse.

But she’d had both of her brothers then.

Y/N rocked back onto her knees, taking in a shuddering breath. She tried swallowing down the lump in her throat, but eventually she had to open up her eyes and look at Dean and realize that he wasn’t looking back.

Dean wasn’t looking back.

“Dean-” her hands shook his shoulders. “Dean, stay awake. I’m here. Stay- stay with me.”

Dean mmed at her, eyes fluttering at random intervals as his gaze slowly hooded over. A twitch passed his lips, barely enough for Y/N to catch- but still enough.

“What is it?” she pressed. Another time she would smack him around a bit, get him to move, but he looked as though anything resembling an attack would-

No. Y/N wasn’t going to go there.

“Y’re always so w’rried,” Dean mumbled, eyes sliding shut. “I nev’r knew why you’d bring s’much extra. Guess there wasn’t ‘nuff this time, huh?”

“Don’t joke about that,” Y/N whispered sharply.

“S’rry,” he slurred. “Jus’ tryna lighten th’mood.”

“We’ll joke once you’re outta here, okay?” Y/N smiled at him, knowing but refusing to acknowledge that he couldn’t see it. “Then you can make fun of me all you want. Promise I won’t retaliate.”

“Then what’s th’ point?” He tried to let out a laugh, but it sounded more like a choke that sent icy sparks up Y/N’s spine.

“Currently,” she tried for humour,” to get you out of here. Can you get up? Just need to carry you-”

“Both know m’not goin’ anywhere,” he muttered. Y/N froze.

“Dean-”

“Can you do something for me?” Dean cut her off. She pursed her lips.

“Anything,” she ventured, “but leave you here.”

“Then…” he trailed off, scaring up her heartbeat for a moment until he continued. “stay with me. Until-”

“Yeah.” She smiled, plastic and fake and everything that was wrong in this moment wrapped up in one brief moment. “Anything you need.”

“R’member th’ song….” His brow flickered into a frown for a moment. “Was ‘bout cats. You liked it.”

“The cat song?” Somehow, in the midst of all the shit going down, she managed to sound incredulous.

“Big cat or somth’n,” he grinned. “Lions?”

“Son of a-” she laughed, wet and false but somehow comforting. “You mean that Skillet song?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled- or, tried to- at her voice. “Always liked it.”

“I’m pretty sure I distinctly remember you yelling at me to shut the hell up, as you oh-so poetically put it,” she grinned.

“You should sing it t’me,” he smiled softly. Y/N blinked.

“I-”

“I’m dyin’ here,” he huffed. She winced. “Least you could do ‘s sing f’r me.”

Y/N pursed her lips, flattening them quickly as she remembered Dean was still there (not for long, a nagging voice in the back of her head told her) and worrying her bottom lip.

Well, it was the least she could do.

It was all she could do.

Her voice shook as she sang; wobbled with uncertainty and quietly as she tried to keep her voice low enough to still hear Dean’s shallow breaths. It took a few verse before she began to let her voice carry. It was soft and deep and a little creaky after a few months- or rather, years- of disuse, but fine all the same.

It reminded them both of another time; Dean had, again, been seriously hurt. Sam and Y/N tried to persuade him to go to the hospital (“Y/N is good, but she can’t do anything about internal bleeding, Dean,” Sam had half-shouted at him.) but he only said he needed to rest. Obviously, it was bull. Dean was hurt. Dean was bloody. Dean was almost fucking crying.

But Dean still wanted to hear her sing.

Y/N only ever sang when she was safe. Singing was Y/N’s way of soothing herself; focusing on the melody, the words, the beat and the tune. Sam and Dean, on the very rare occasion they could catch her off-guard, would stand motionlessly and simply listen. Y/N wasn’t phenomenal, they all knew that, but her singing was just one way that they could all remember they were okay. Maybe that was why Dean asked her to do it when he was scared (not that he would admit that, of course); because he needed to know that she was safe, they were safe, everything would be okay.

Slowly, she felt as Dean’s chest began to rise a bit less every time; she watched as his eyelids opened less frequently, his grip slacken a bit more every few seconds. Her face was a mixture of tears and snot and blood coating her grimy cheeks, but it didn’t even occur to her for a damn second to focus on anything other than Dean.

Her vision was blurred, so she wasn’t quite sure which rise and fall of Dean’s chest was his last. She wasn’t certain when his hand no longer gripped onto hers, only held to her chest because she gripped it so hard Dean would’ve complained that she’d break his fingers. She didn’t care about that. She didn’t care about anything.

Sam was dead. Dean was dead.

Y/N was dead.

The sun filtered in through the window she hadn’t noticed earlier by the time she could regain the basics of her surroundings. Her hand was numb from where her fingers had clutched at her brother’s arm, like letting go of Dean would mean letting go of Dean. She couldn’t do it. She could never. But Y/N had to.

It was day. The hunt was over. Sam probably still had matches in his pocket- Y/N’s next breath caught when she thought of him- and Dean definitely still had a lighter of some sort on him. The Winchesters were not supposed to still be here, not like this. They were supposed to be two towns over from the place that “mysterious fire” had cropped up from; new names using old alibis, fresh scars and worn out flannels the smelled of leather seats and cheap beer and diner fast-food and home. Y/N refused to linger on the word. It held nothing. It meant nothing.

She wasn’t quite sure what home was anymore.

The house was up in flames in less than an hour. It had to be burned down anyways, and Y/N couldn’t bring herself to move her brothers out of the cabin, anyways. All she could do was carry them into the front room, laying beside each other. Y/N had carried her brothers more than once after a hunt, and she was by no means weak, but somehow their bodies seemed to weigh more after the light left their eyes. She tried not to think about that. Her mind tried to take itself somewhere light, recollecting memories as she carried Sam down the stairs, sitting for a minute before climbing up to get Dean.

Even in death, they’d be together.

It was probably sometime around midday when Y/N watched the last few flames die down. The house wasn’t a fire hazard, as Sam would have made sure, so she felt safe enough knowing that anybody who came by would just see a recently burned house with nothing but ashes inside. The bodies would be cremated; Dean found some spell that ensured it, so it was quickly memorized and often utilized. Her way back to the impala was short and did not register in her mind, but she paid no notice. Nothing caught her attention.

Like clockwork, Y/N fell onto the back seat. She sat expectantly for half a moment before realizing that her brothers weren’t going to sit in the front seat. Sam wouldn’t ask how she was holding up while Dean teased him for asking her while he looked like that, before giving her that look that asked the same damn thing. She couldn’t tell them that she was fine, that she desperately needed whatever fast food she was craving to survive, that at least she wasn’t on her period (often followed by groans and a fake ‘blech!’ sound from Dean that cracked them all up). Y/N could never say those things to them.

She slid into the front seat. Part of her expected to hear Dean’s gruff voice ask her what the hell d’you think you’re doing, but none came. There were no sounds other than her shallow breaths and the occasional car from the road they had driven off of. Shakily, her hands pulled the clinking keys out of her pocket and started the ignition. The engine rumbled, soft and familiar and coaxing her to tears that refused to spill.

There was so much grief, so much anger, so much whatever the fuck this is that Y/N felt that it overwhelmed her and nulled every emotion that brought itself up in her. She wanted to cry; she wanted to cry and scream and pull out her hair and beat her hands against the steering wheel until they bled and scream out to whoever would listen and ask why them, why them when they only helped people and didn’t deserve this in a thousand years. Nothing came out.

Y/N shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the dirt side road Dean had parked on only 12 hours before.

@zeusmyster​ @mogaruke @assbutt-still-in-hell​ @spn67-sister​ @sammysbeanie​ @thyotakukimkim​ @lemonadegazeelle @obsessivecompulsivespn @peteyparkerson

#mine #original fic #TWC #deanxsister!reader #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Y/N Winchester #samxsister!reader #platonic!deanxreader #platonic!samxreader #sister winchester #Winsister #original post #og post

[sillesworldofwriting]

March Drabble 2

Drabble 152/365 (Inspired by this imagine)

“I’m back!” you shouted after the metal door shut closed behind you.

“About time,” you heard Sam’s voice coming from the library. “You said you'd be back yesterday.”

“There were some unexpected complications. And I texted you I would run late.” you explained while rolling your eyes. Your brother could be too overprotective at times.

There was no further answer, so you made your way into the library were Sam stood with his arms crossed.

You sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry I was late, but I can take care of myself and you know it. This is not the first hunt I took on on my own.”

“We still worried. I was worried,” he replied, relaxing his posture a bit. “You’re our little sister and we don’t want to lose you. Not after what happened with mom and Jack.”

“I know. But you can’t keep me here. Hunting is in my blood like it’s in yours.”

Sam sighed and nodded. “Damn Winchester genes.”

You chuckled. “Since you were so worried, how about a hug for your little sister?” you asked, taking a few steps in his direction.

“Nope. Shower first, then a hug. I can see and smell the blood on you, Y/N.”

“Sam come on. I really want a hug now.”

“No,” he declared, backing off as you came nearer.

You grinned. This was going to be fun.

#Supernatural #Sam Winchester #sam x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #samxsister!reader #sister!reader #a drabble a day and maybe the followers will stay #drabble #sille's writing

[thewinsister]

Just Acting

Warnings: mentions of blood

Characters: J2, actriss reader, Sam and Dean Winchester.

Summary: J2 get emotional during a scene so you help them (idk how else to explain it without spoiling it.

Word Count: 661 (i know it’s short it was just a little something i though of)

S/N/N: sisters name, i didn’t know what name to use for their sister so i’ll let you guys decide.

Y/N: your name

Y/N/N: your nickname

You felt as the thick velvet blood trickled down your head, as tears stained your cheeks you looked up to them. Sam and Dean, one of them at each side of you holding your hand, their eyes equally glassy but they tried to maintain strong for you. You looked down at your abdomen, it looked ripped and torn blood oozing out all around.

“You’re okay, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll get you outta here and you’ll be better in no time.” Said Dean squeezing your hand tightly and kissed it softly.

“De, Sammy…” You choked up blood before continuing, “It’s okay…. It’s my time to leave now…” You finished, breathing heavily between each frase.

“No S/N/N, we’ll get you out of this. We’ll save you, just like we always do!” Sam said sobbing he couldn’t lose his baby sister, not now, not like this.

“Look at me… i want you to promise me something..” You said trying to look at them but a sharp pain in your neck stopped you from doing do. “Promise me…. you won’t do anything stupid..” You said smiling tightly, more tears cascaded down your cheeks rolling down onto the floor.

“Okay” they both said hesitantly knowing what you meant by that.

“Smile for me… if i’m gonna die… i wanna see you happy one last time… even if it’d fake…” You choked out your voice hoarse and soft almost like a whisper but your breathers caught everything. Still sobbing they smiled for you, it was small and pitiful but a smile. With that you were content finally letting the tall skeleton-like man you knew as death take you, leaving your brothers for the last time. They sobbed into your shirt, Dean grasping your face trying to find life in his baby sister, trying to find life in his world.

“CUT! That’s a wrap for today guys!” The director yelled and everyone began to clean up and leave. Slowly you peeled open your eyes still feeling a heavy wait on your chest, you realized Jensen and Jared were still on you.

“Guys? Guys he said cut you can get off me now” You said laughing slightly but stopped when you realized they were still crying. “Hey hey, I’m alive, okay? It’s fake, I’m fine see?” You said softly tugging on their shirts, their weight was beginning to restrict your breathing making you out of breath. Once they realized they sat up, their were eyes red and puffy. When they finally let you sit up properly they both attacked you once again in a hug.

“It was so real Y/N/N, it felt like you were actually dead…” Jared said finally after a while of hugging you.

“But hey I’m not going anywhere, it’s just acting.” You said as you moved his hair out of his face.

“Hell of a good actress you are” muttered Jensen before smirking slightly, making you giggle slightly. “You really can’t die though, not on my watch. After 4 years of filming you’re like a sister to us now, we love you” You entered the show in season one at 12 years old as Sam and Dean Winchesters little sister. Now four years later they’ve become your best friends, your brothers, and you don’t know what you’d do without them.

“Awwwww, does that mean you like my terrible jokes too?” You asked trying to make them laugh.

“Yeah, even your terrible jokes I guess” Said Jensen acting fake annoyed as you all laughed.

“Hey you know what will cheer you up a little more?” You asked, a mischievous smile forming on your lips.

“What would that be exactly?” answered Jared, the two men looked at you curious of you were up to.

“Wanna go prank Misha?” You asked getting up quickly looking around if he was near.

“Hell yeah!” They said together and you all began laughing as you walked away to the real, non-monsters, non-hunter, world.

........................................................................................

A/N: so this is my first time doing an RPF (real person fiction) so i don’t know if it’s good. Let me know if you liked it!

I just realized i lost the list for the permanent tag list, so if you want to be on the permanent one tell me so i can put you on it!

#sam #Sam Winchester #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #samxreader #samxsister #sam imagines #sam one shot #dean #dean winchester #dean imagine #dean one shot #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x reader #Sam and Dean Winchester #j2 #j2 fics #jensen #jensen ackles #jensen imagine #jensen one shot #jensen ackles imagine #jared #jared padalecki #jared one shot #jared padalecki imagine #jared padalecki one shot

[holylulusworld]

Have you ever done any sister incest fics with sam? Would you ever do samXsister!reader??

I’m sorry but I do not write incest in any form, hun.

I know there are other authors writing this kind of content. I can name you some great writers if you want me to.

I do not judge if someone writes or reads this kind of fics but it’s just not my cup of tea to write it.

Sorry.

[thewnchstrs]

Yellow Fever

Pairing: DeanXsister!reader, SamXsister!reader

Disclaimers: minor mentions of depression and suicide, blood, vomit, heart attacks

Word Count: 10.7K

M A S T E R L I S T

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

My chest burned with the pressure of my racing heart as I pumped my arms and legs, propelling myself forward and away from the incessant barking coming from behind me.

I chanced a look over my shoulder, fear inching its way through every bone in my body as it chased me, figuring this would surely be the end if I couldn’t pick up my pace.

I rounded a corner down the long, dark alleyway I’d been running down when suddenly I was crashing to the ground after having collided with a shopping cart full of trash. I groaned, flopping onto my stomach as I pushed myself to my feet. My eyes bounced up to the man whose cart I’d fallen over, “Run! It’ll kill you!”

The man looked from me and down to where I was pointing where the small Yorkie looked back up at me with those beady, dark eyes. The pink bow nestled in between its ears could’ve fooled anybody- but I could see right through it. I could picture it now: the minute it got a hold of me, it would tear me apart. I’d be dead within minutes.

Quickly, and with adrenaline still pumping heavily through my veins, I turned quickly on my heels and began to sprint in the opposite direction, desperately trying to outrun that tiny, vicious ball of evil.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rock Ridge, Colorado.

43 Hours Earlier

“Agent Tyler, Agent Perry, Agent Kramer, meet Frank O’Brien.” the coroner said as he unzipped the body bag, revealing the face of a middle-aged white man.

“He died of a heart attack, right?” Sam asked.

The coroner nodded, “Three days ago.”

“But O’Brien was 44 years old and, according to this,” Sam opened up the manila folder in his hands as he read from it, “a marathon runner.”

“Everybody drops dead sooner or later,” the coroner simply shrugged, “it’s why I got job security.”

“Yeah, but Frank kicked it here.” Dean said, “Now just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee...all heart attacks. You don’t think that’s strange?”

“Sounds like Maumee’s problem to me. Why’s the FBI give a damn, anyway?”

“We just want to see the results of Franks autopsy,” I said, nodding to the coroner who gave me a confused look.

“What autopsy?”

I smiled the best polite, fake, smile I could, the one that suggested he really didn’t have a choice in the matter, “The one you’re gonna do.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam, Dean, and I watched on as the coroner began the first incision, beginning at the base of the chest cavity and down to the middle of Frank’s abdomen. “First dead body?”

“Far from it,” Dean said as he watched on, his arms crossed. They always seemed so unfazed by the entire cutting open of a dead person gig. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.

“Oh, good,” the coroner said as he pulled back the sides of Frank’s stomach, unsettlingly reminding me of the time I had to dissect a frog in high school, “’cause these suckers can get pretty ripe.” the coroner nodded toward the metal table next to me, “Hey, hand me those rib cutters, would you?”

My hand hovered over the tools when I spotted the one that most resembled a pair of pliers, handing them over to the coroner. I winced as he broke numerous ribs in order to get through to Frank’s chest.

The coroner pulled out layers of muscle, piling it up in his hand as he looked to me again, “Hold this for me.”

“Oh, I’d really rather not-”

Before I knew it, I had a handful of muscle as Sam and Dean smirked at me as I held it far, fat away.

“Is this from a wedding ring?” Dean asked as he eyed Frank’s hand where, sure enough, a small patch of skin on his ring finger looked as if he were still wearing it, “I didn’t think Frank was married.”

“Ain’t my department.”

Sam picked up Frank’s arm, revealing his skin that looked as if it’d been burned off. However, as I looked closer, they weren’t burn marks at all. They were scratches.

“You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop. Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground...huh.”

“What?” We said in unison as the coroner peered inside the body.

The coroner shook his head, “I- I can’t find any blockages in any of the major arteries.”

We watched as the coroner then stuck nearly his entire forearm into the chest cavity. My eyes went wide with horror as he felt around for something and, when he successfully grabbed a hold of it, tore it from the body, eliciting a wet and cracking sound. He held Frank’s heart up under the spot light.

I gagged slightly, covering my mouth with my upper arm in an attempt to keep my lunch down, the muscle in my hands feeling heavier than ever.

“Heart looks pretty damn healthy.” the coroner said, looking to Dean as he held the heart out, “Hold that a second, would you?” Suddenly, he shoved the heart into Dean’s hands, making him look to Sam and I in confusion.

I smirked at him this time, mocking him for making fun of me. Sam smiled beside himself at the picture of Dean and I as the coroner went back to work, cutting something deep in Frank’s chest when is spurted upward and directly into Sam’s eyes.

“Oh, sorry.” The coroner apologized, “Spleen juice.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam, Dean and I sat in the police station silently as the lower-ranking officer sat across from us at a large desk, smiling as if to distract us from how long we’d been waiting to speak to the Sheriff.

“Hell’s bells, Linus, have you seen my-” the Sheriff asked, poking his head from his office, stopping as he spotted the three of us. Sam, Dean, and I stood from our seats. “Who are they?”

“Federal agents, I uh-”

“And you kept them waiting?”

“You- you said not to disturb-”

“Come on back, agents.” The Sheriff said, ignoring him as he motioned us inside, stopping us before we could enter his office. “Shoes off.”

We raised our eyebrows at the odd request, but, nonetheless, kicked our shoes off on the welcome mat outside the door. The office was lined with showcases of trophies and medals, framed achievement awards and a file cabinet. He obviously kept busy.

“Al Britton,” he introduced, shaking each of our hands. “Good to meet you. Take a seat.”

Pulling the chairs out on the opposite side of his desk, we sat down, watching as he pulled a large bottle of hand sanitizer from his desk drawer, pouring a generous amount into his hand, watching the three of us in uncomfortable silence before he finally decided to sit down. “So. What can I do for Uncle Sam?”

“Well, we’re looking into the death of Frank O’Brien.” Sam said, looking to Dean and I before looking back to Al. “We understand a few of your men found his body.”

Al’s face fell slightly, “They did...me and Frank, we were friends. Hell, we were gamecocks.” Dean wheezed slightly, quickly closing his mouth as Al raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s our softball team’s name. They’re majestic animals.”

I nodded slowly, “So, uh, how long have you known Frank?”

“Since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was...he was a good man.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, “big heart.”

“Bigger muscles,” I confirmed, nodding as Al nodded along in agreement.

Sam quickly interjected, “Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange, maybe, scared of something?”

“Oh, hell yeah.” Al said as he clasped his hands together on his desk. “Real jumpy.”

“You know what scared him?”

“No. Wouldn’t answer his phone. Finally, I sent some of my boys over to check on him, and, well, you know the rest.”

Al coughed twice into his hand after that, a labored cough that nearly sounded like someone who’d been smoking for years, at least. We watched, eyebrows cinched together as he poured more hand sanitizer into his hands, vigorously rubbing them together. “So, why the feds give a crap? You don’t really think there’s a case here?”

Dean looked to us, opening and closing his mouth, unsure of what to say, “No, no. It’s probably nothing. Just a heart attack.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“No way that was just a heart attack.” Dean said once we exited the police station.

“Definitely no way.” I said, shaking my head, “Three victims, all with those same red scratches, all went from jittery to terrified to dead within 48 hours.”

“Something scared them to death?” Sam joked. “Alright, so, what can do that?”

“What can’t?” I clarified. “Ghosts, vampires, chupacabra, it could be a hundred things.”

“Yeah, so, we make a list, start crossing things off.”

“Alright. Who’s the last person to see Frank O’Brien alive?:

“Uh, his neighbor, Mark Hutchins.”

As we continued down the sidewalk, I caught sight of the group of people in front of us, huddled together at the end of the road. I quickly grabbed Sam and Dean’s arms, pulling them back, “Hang on.”

“What?”

I glanced from them to the ground, trying not to make eye contact with the group, “I don’t like the looks of those teenagers down there. Let’s walk this way.”

Before they could intervene I quickly darted across the road, keeping my head low as I approached the other side of the street, crisis averted.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Tyler, Perry, and Kramer,” Frank’s neighbor, Mark Hutchins said as he stroked the long garden snake that was resting over his shoulders, “just like Aerosmith.”

“Yeah, small world,” Sam said. Mark’s living room was littered with every animal known to man. Small ones and big ones, skinny and fat, long and short, scales and tongues that darted out against the glass enclosures they were encased in. I caught the eye of a lizard who whipped his head to mine, making me jump slightly, returning my attention back to Mark, “so, the last time you saw Frank O’Brien?”

“Monday. He was watching me from his window.” Mark gestured with his head toward the window across from us, “I waved at him, but he just closed the curtains.”

“Did you speak to him recently? Did he seem different...scared?”

“Oh, totally. He was freaking out.”

I wrung my hands together as I side-eyed the small crocodile in the tank next to me, his beady eyes always watching me, trying to keep my focus on what they were talking about while fear pumped through my veins.

“Do you know what scared him?” Dean asked as he crouched down to look at a bearded dragon.

Mark thought about it before answering, “Well, yeah, witches.”

“Witches?”

“Well, ‘Wizard of Oz’ was on TV the other night, right?” Mark began. He gestured wildly with his hands and I kept my eyes trained on the snake around him. “And he said that green bitch was totally out to get him.”

Sam, Dean and I raised our eyebrows at the odd accusation, nodding slowly. This Frank guy was beginning to sound bat shit crazy, “Anything else scare him?”

“Everything else scared him. Al-Qaeda, ferrets, artificial sweetener, those Pez dispensers with their dead little eyes, lots of stuff.”

As Mark listed everything off, I began to bounce my leg in anxiousness, unconsciously cracking my knuckles as I surveyed the area around me, my heart picking up more and more speed as I noticed a new animal each time I looked around the room. A tarantula, a bullfrog, a chameleon that constantly changed colors.

“So, tell me, what was Frank like?” Sam asked.

Mark hesitated, “I mean, he’s dead, you know? I- I don’t want to hammer him, but he got better.”

“Got better?”

“Well, in high school he was- he was a dick.”

“A dick?”

“Like a bully.” Mark clarified, “I mean, he probably taped half the town’s butt cheeks together,” I couldn’t help myself but laugh lightly at the thought of it, quickly snapping my mouth shut when Mark gave me a deadly glare, “mine included.”

“So he pissed a lot of people off,” I said, “you think anyone would have wanted to get revenge?”

“Well I don’t...” Frank paused, eyes darting across the floor before looking back up at us, “Frank had a heart attack, right?”

Dean came back around the room after having examined each reptile before sitting back down in a chair next to Sam, “Just answer the question, sir.”

“No...I don’t think so.” Mark shook his head in confusion, “Like I said, he got better. After what happened to his wife.”

“His wife?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow to Sam and I, “So he was married?”

“She died, about 20 years ago,” Mark said, sadly, “Frank was really broken up about it.”

I grimaced at the snake that now laid still in Mark’s arms, feeling as if at any moment it could strike. I sat on the edge of the couch, trying to settle my racing heart. Mark looked at me, confused before laughing, “Don’t be afraid of Donny. He’s a sweetheart. It’s Marie you gotta look out for. She smells fear.”

As if on cue, a fat, yellow spotted python began to peek over the couch, its body slowly slithering over the cushions next to my shoulder. I snapped my head forward, inhaling sharply as I felt it nudge my arm, its head nearly the size of my fist. I watched Sam and Dean in desperation, took scared to move as the snake came down over my shoulder and down across my lap.

My eyes trailed to Mark pleadingly, my words coming out in short bursts of air, “Little help here.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I sat in the back of the Impala, repeatedly itching my inner arm mindlessly as Dean read through article after article in the front when he dramatically groaned, “Y/N would you stop scratching that thing already?”

My hand suddenly stopped, not realizing how loud the material of my jacket was. “I’m telling you Dean, it was one of those dumb animals.”

Sam pulled the car door open then, sliding in next to Dean, “Any luck at the counter clerk’s office?”

“Not sure I’d call it luck.” Dean said as I scooted to be in between their shoulders as Dean passed me a printed copy of an article of a missing woman, “Frank’s wife, Jessie, was a manic-depressive. She went off her meds back in ‘88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over, strung up in her motel room- suicide.”

“Any chance Frank helped her along to the other side?” Sam asked, nicking the article from my hands.

“No, Frank was working the swing shift when she disappeared.” Dean turned the engine over, the Impala rumbling to life, “Airtight alibi.”

Dean immediately sped off down the road, making me grip the door handle as I watched him fly down the road with no regard to the speed limit. I swallowed roughly, my heart beginning to race again. What if he got into a wreck? What if he hit someone walking across the road?

I tried my best to push all of the bad thoughts out of my head and tried to focus on something else, “How was Frank’s pad?”

“Clean,” Sam said, “searched it top to bottom. No EMF, no hex bags, no sulfur.”

“So probably no ghosts, no witches, no demons.” Dean said, “Three down and 97 to go.”

As we entered the city limits, Dean began to go faster, the cars and buildings on the other side of the road looking like smudges as he gassed it. I gripped tighter onto the door, “Dean, you’re gonna get us killed.”

Sam turned halfway in his seat to look at me, his eyebrows cinched together in confusion as Dean’s eyes darted to mine through the rearview mirror. “I’m going five over.”

“Is safety a crime now?!” I nearly shouted, “And why doesn’t this damn car have seat belts, anyway?”

Dean widened his eyes slightly as he shook his head, coming to a stop at an intersection. I nearly stuck my head out of the window to see the oncoming traffic.

“Y/N, get back in the car!” Dean nearly shouted as he slammed on his breaks. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Dean, were you really going to make a left-hand turn onto oncoming traffic!?” My wild eyes darted to Sam who stared at me in confusion, “Is he suicidal!?” I sat back against the seats as Dean turned anyway, as I held my breath, thinking about what I’d said. “Did I just say that? That was kind of weird wasn’t it?”

As we pulled in front of the motel room, a low whining came from the front seat, almost like static, making Sam look around the car, “Do you hear something?”

Dean and I looked over to Sam who felt around his jacket pockets before pulling out the EMF detector, holding it out for us to see, the lights on top going crazy as he moved it over him and Dean, the lights disappearing. However, as he hovered it over the backseat, the red lights lit up like a Christmas tree.

My heart fell as I stared at them, wide-eyed. “Am I haunted?” When Sam and Dean didn’t say anything, I began to panic, “Am I haunted!?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I laid against the Impala’s seats, the warm sun beating down on my face through the back window. Sam and Dean had gone across the street to get breakfast, but the last thing I was going to do was walk across a busy street just for some donuts and possibly encountering a bakery robber? No thanks, I wasn’t insane.

Eye of the Tiger began filtering through the car speakers, the bass rumbling beneath me as I started to play the drums along with the beat, getting ready to belt out the chorus when two rhythmic slaps on the roof of the car made me fly up in my seat. I muted the music, laying a hand over my chest, Sam and Dean watched me in confusion from outside the car.

I quickly threw the door open, “You guys, look at this.” I rolled the sleeves of my shirt up, revealing three short scratches on my inner arm that almost looked like they’d come from a cat.

“I told you to stop itching that thing, Y/N,” Dean said, cocking an eyebrows as he grabbed a donut from the box in his hands. “We talked to Bobby.”

“And?”

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, having one of their silent conversations, “It’s ghost sickness.”

“Ghost sickness?”

“Yeah.”

I leaned back against the car, sighing, just the name of it giving me the creeps, “God, no...” I shook my head, “I don’t even know what that is.”

“Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes-” Sam began, but I really wasn’t interested in a history lesson at this point.

“Okay, get to the good stuff.”

“Symptoms are you get anxious,” Dean began, his voice muffled as he spoke around the donuts coating his mouth, “and scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out. Sound familiar?”

I ran my tongue over my teeth, watching the two of them, “Yeah, but, we haven’t seen a ghost in weeks.”

“Well I doubt you caught it from a ghost. Look, once a spirit infects that first person, ghost sickness can spread like any sickness through a cough, a handshake, whatever. It’s like the flu.”

Dean threw the box of donuts into the open window of the car, licking the powder off of his thumb, “Now, Frank O’Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected. Patient zero. Our very own outbreak monkey.”

“Right.” Sam confirmed. I switched my attention to him, worrying my lip between my teeth now, “Get this- Frank was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament...which was where he must have infected the other two victims.”

“Were they Gamecocks?” I asked, thinking back to the Sheriff.

“Cornjerkers.” Dean clarified, rolling his eyes at the name.

I sighed, “So, let me get this straight. Ghost infected Frank, he passed it on to the other guys, and I got it from his corpse?”

“Right.”

“So now, what, I have 48 hours before I go insane and my heart stops?” I asked, already feeling my impending doom.

“More like 24.”

I nodded, “Super...how do we stop it?”

“We gank the ghost that started all this. We do that, the disease should clear up.” Sam said, making it sound like a simple task.

“You guys thinking Frank’s wife?” Dean asked.

“Who knows why she killed herself, you know?” Sam shrugged. I ran both of my hands through my hair as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“What are you doing waiting out here, anyway?” Dean asked, eyeing me.

My eyes bounced up to his and then to the motel behind us. I stared up at the tall building, the numerous floors. Just the thought of being all the way up there made me queasy, “Our room’s on the fourth floor. It’s uh...it’s high.”

Sam and Dean laughed lightly, raising their eyebrows at me, “I’ll see if I can move us down to the first.”

“Thanks.” I said quickly, shaking my head as I slid back into the Impala, ready to get rid of this sickness.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I sat at a table in the motel room, an open lore book sitting in front of me. I was supposed to have been reading it while Sam and Dean were out talking to victims families. Now just the idea of having to get into that hunk of metal Dean called a car looked more like a moving death trap to me.

I desperately tried to focus on the pages but I found myself reading and rereading the same three sentences over and over again because the clock above me continued to tick, tick, tick as if it were reminding me just how little time I had left.

I stared at the clock, shaking my head as if to clear the noise. I looked back down at the book which now seemed to be on a completely different page. Two graphic images looked back up at me, a man, vomiting pools of blood onto the ground and the other, a woman’s chest looking as if it’d been ripped from the base of her throat to the middle of her stomach.

I coughed twice, my throat suddenly feeling raw. As I leaned in closer to the book, where in the middle of a sentence, the words, You’re dying. stood out among the page. I cinched my eyebrows together as I continued to read. Again. I rubbed at my eyelids, I was just tired. Yeah, that was it.

I looked back down at the pages. You gonna cry? I pushed the book away, my heart racing as the ticking of the clock above me seemed to become louder and louder until it sounded like atom bombs dropping. I covered my ears with my arms, clasping my hands behind my head but the ticking only increased, faster and faster, I could nearly feel myself fading away-

In one swift motion I flew up from the chair, nearly knocking it to the ground as I punched a fist right through the middle of the clock, glass scattering as I threw it onto the floor, the ticking finally ceasing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I laid across the couch, staring at the dirty motel ceiling, my hands clasped over my stomach, enjoying the silence when they came back. I felt their eyes on me as they looked from the shattered clock on the floor to where I was put up.

“Everything okay?” Dean asked, setting plastic bags of takeout onto the table.

“Oh yeah,” I sighed, “just peachy.” I sat up on the couch, throwing my legs over the side as I held my head in my hands, “Find anything?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, coming to sit across from me, “Jessie O’Brien’s body was cremated, so we’re pretty sure she is not our ghost.”

“Hey,” Dean said, nudging my foot that was propped on the coffee table now, “stop picking at that.” I looked down to where I’d been subconsciously scratching at my inner arm, my hands falling to my sides. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Awesome,” I smiled sarcastically, “it’s nice to have my head on the chopping block again. I almost forgot what that feels like.”

“We’ll keep looking.”

I raised my eyebrows slightly as I began to cough again into my hand. Bringing it away, it was splattered with blood, my eyes going wide as I continued to choke, bringing my hands to my chest as I punched a closed fist around it.

“You okay?” Dean asked, the two of them at the edge of their seats now. “Hey!”

I gagged, unable to answer them from something blocking my airways as I ran to the bathroom, the two of them close on my heels as I hovered over the sink, my hands gripping the counter. I dry heaved multiple times, desperately trying to get air past the thing clogging my throat when suddenly, it flew from my mouth.

Sam, Dean and I stared at it as I picked it up, rinsing the blood away under the faucet as I held it up. A small, rectangular wooden piece with strange engravings on the front.

Sam examined it closely, “We’ve been ignoring the biggest clue we have...you.”

I rolled the block in my hand, “I don’t wanna be a clue.”

“Sam’s right,” Dean said, eyebrows raised in understanding. “The abrasions, this, the disease...it’s trying to tell us something.”

“Tell us what?!” I nearly shouted, holding up the block, “Wood chips!?”

Sam laughed halfheartedly, “Exactly.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dean drove up in front of the rundown lumber mill, throwing the car into park. As we filed out, I stared up at the abandoned building, running my teeth over my bottom lip as I surveyed everything that could go wrong in there. Bodies, ghosts, one scratch against a rusty nail and one of us could get tetanus.

“I’m not going in there,” I said, shaking my head as I turned to them.

“We need you in there, Y/N,” Dean said as he rounded to the trunk, pulling open the weapons arsenal, “c’mon, it’ll be good for you!”

I scoffed slightly, rolling my eyes as I stuffed my hands into my pockets, “Yeah, real good.” I watched as Sam and Dean each pulled out their guns as they passed mine to me. Usually, I would’ve taken it with no hesitation, but this time, a feeling of dread washed over me at the sight of it, “Oh, I’m not carrying that.” Sam and Dean cocked their eyebrows at me, “It could go off!” My eyes raked over the trunk before reaching for what looked the safest, holding it close to my chest, “I’ll man the flashlight.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I followed close behind Dean who lead the way into the lumber mill, sandwiched between him and Sam. I made sure to keep a firm grip on the back of Dean’s jacket. The last thing we needed was to get separated. I shone the flashlight over the high walls and outdated machinery that sat unused for what had to have been more than fifty plus years.

We made it nearly a hundred feet into the building when the EMF detector in Sam’s jacket went off, the lights going crazy as he held it out in front of him.

“EMF’s not gonna work with me around, is it?” I asked, slightly hopeful they’d send me back to wait in the car.

“You don’t say,” Sam said as he pocketed the EMF detector, “come on.”

I groaned slightly as we walked deeper into the dark when suddenly, Dean stopped, the quick movement making me jump. He leaned down close to the ground as he picked up a small, silver ring, reading the engravings, “To Frank, Love Jessie.” He looked to Sam and I, “Frank O’Brien’s ring...What the hell was Frank doing here?”

“No idea,” Sam shrugged as we pushed ourselves up off of the ground as we rounded a corner. It was much darker down this hallway, the only light coming from small windows high up on the walls.

We seemed to be walking aimlessly, randomly picking which doors to go through and which to avoid. It was an extremely dangerous method if you asked me, but I couldn’t find it in myself to mention that to either of them.

“You know, this isn’t so bad-” I began when, as if on cue, a loud rattling came from fifty feet ahead of us, the noise nearly making me jump out of my skin. I gripped Sam’s shoulder for leverage as I watched with wild eyes, Dean walking toward the source.

A row of lockers sat in a small, square room where the noise seemed to be getting louder, my heart rate picking up as I watched Sam slowly reach for the locker. I whimpered lamely as he counted down from three and I suddenly wished I’d taken them up on that gun.

“One...” Sam began counting, “two...three!”

In one swift motion, Sam yanked the locker open, a cat flying from the top shelf, making me scream horror, my voice incredibly high, the screeches echoing through the small room. Both Sam and Dean watching me with wide eyes as I panted, my hands resting on my knees as I caught my breath, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I looked at them, “That was scary!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next room was littered with loose papers, fallen bookcases and empty desks. It looked like it could’ve been an office at one point. We surveyed the area, checking out the everything we could that could lead us to the ghost we needed to get rid of in order to cure me.

“Luther Garland,” Sam said from one side of the room after examining an ID. I looked over his shoulder, shining the flashlight on the picture of the man.

“He’s creepy.”

“Hey!” Dean said from over a desk. He was holding up a drawn portrait on yellowing paper, “This is...this is Frank’s wife.”

“Plot thickens,” Sam said, the two of us coming to look at the picture, comparing it to the missing persons article Dean had in his pocket.

“Yeah, but into what?”

Dean ripped the portrait up from the table when a loud noise filtered through the building, like machinery coming to life. I jumped, turning around as I flashed the light over the room, once, twice-

My flashlight stopped at a figure in the corner, my blood instantly running cold, my heart stopping. He was facing away from us, a big, bald man. My hands shook, I tried to call out to Sam and Dean but to no use. I slowly brought my free hand up to Sam, hitting his arm. “G-ghost.”

Sam and Dean quickly turned around, training their shotguns on the ghost, “Hey!” Dean shouted, “Hey, asshat!”

I saw this as my chance. I dropped the flashlight onto the ground and sprinted out of the revolving doors, pumping my arms and legs until I was outside, quivering as I squatted down low behind the car, but not before snagging Dean’s bottle of whiskey he kept in the driver’s side door, quickly gulping it down, letting the alcohol wash over me.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“This is the Garland file,” the deputy said, handing Sam a manila folder. It was the same deputy, the young one who wouldn’t let us see the Sheriff for nearly an hour. Dean and Sam examined the file as I stood back, not wanting to get any glance at the bloody crime scene photos. The deputy’s eyes traveled past Dean’s shoulder and over to me where I was fiddling with my suit jacket, “Is...is she drunk?”

“No,” Sam said quickly as he motioned for me to sit down.

“Deputy, according to this,” Dean said, pointing to a document in the file, “Luther Garland’s cause of death was physical trauma. What does that mean?”

“They guy died 20 years ago- before my time. Sorry.”

“Can we talk to the Sheriff?”

“He’s out sick today.”

Sam nodded slowly, “Well, if you see him, will you have him call us? We’re staying at the Bluebird.”

“Sure thing,” the deputy said as Sam and Dean began to head toward the exit. I shifted on my feet, smiling at him.

“You know what?” I slurred slightly before pointing at him, “You’re cute.”

The deputy blushed, smiling, “Uh, thanks. You too.”

I smiled sheepishly, stumbling before Dean grabbed me by the back of my neck and forced me out of the police station.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I can’t believe you drank half of that bottle,” Dean said as we walked through the nursing home where Luther Garland’s brother was said to be living.

“I can’t believe you keep alcohol in your car,” I said, rubbing my aching head as the alcohol began to wear off. “This isn’t gonna work.” I shook my head, “These badges are fake. We could get busted, we could go to jail!”

“Y/N, shh!” Sam reprimanded, stopping me in the middle of the hallway, “Calm down. Deep breath, okay?” Sam demonstrated the deep breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth. “There. You feel better?”

I slowly shook my head in fear as Dean grabbed the two of us, “Just- come on!”

Dean lead us into the nursing home’s rec room where a nurse said Garland spent most of his time. Sure enough, at a table by himself, a man with long, thinning hair in a wheelchair sat next to a tall window.

Sam cleared his throat, getting the man’s attention, “Mr. Garland.” He looked up at us, eyebrow cocked, “I’m Agent Tyler, this is Agent Perry and Agent Kramer- FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions about your brother, Luther.”

Mr. Garland sat back in his chair, clasping his hands in front of him, “Let me see some ID.”

I whipped my head to Sam and Dean, shakily opening my badge as we handed them to him. Mr. Garland studied them closely before eyeing the three of us.

“Those are real.” I assured, “Obviously.” Dean cleared his throat, giving me a deadly glare. “I- I mean, who would pretend to be an FBI Agent, huh? That’s just nutty!”

Sam stomped lightly onto my toes making me stop mid sentence as I grimaced at Mr. Garland who handed the badges back, “What do you want to know?”

Sam held up the folder given to him by the deputy as we all pulled out chairs across from Mr. Garland, “Well, according to this, your brother Luther died of physical trauma.”

Mr. Garland scoffed, shaking his head as Dean raised his eyebrows at him, “You don’t agree.”

“No I don’t.”

“Well, then what would you call it?”

Mr. Garland ran a finger over the rim of his coffee mug, “Don’t matter what an old man thinks.”

“Mr. Garland,” Sam said, “we’re just trying to get the truth on your brother. Please.”

Mr. Garland hesitated, reaching across the table toward the file as he plucked the ID we’d found in the lumber mill, “Everybody was scared of Luther. They called him a monster. He was too big, too mean-looking. Just too...different.” Mr. Garland ran his thumb over the picture as he described his brother, “Didn’t matter he was the kindest man I ever knew. Didn’t matter he’d never hurt no one. A lot of people failed Luther,” he said, tears brimming his eyes, “I was one of ‘em...I was a widower with three young’uns, and, I told myself there was nothing I could do.”

Sam nodded sympathetically as he unfolded the portrait of Frank’s wife, “Mr. Garland, um...do you recognize this woman?”

"It’s Jessie O’Brien,” he confirmed, “her man, Frank, killed Luther

I raised my eyebrows as Dean took the words right out of my mouth, “How do you know that?”

“Everybody knows. They just don’t talk about it.” Mr. Garland looked to the three of us, and when he realized we wanted the full story, he sighed at the memory, “Jessie was a receptionist at the mill. She was always real nice to Luther, and he had a crush on her. But Frank didn’t like it. And when Jessie went missing, Frank was sure that Luther had done something to her. Turns out the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn’t know that...they found Luther with a chain wrapped around his neck. He was dragged up and down the stretch outside that plant till he was past dead.”

“And O’Brien was never arrested?” I asked, finding it hard to believe someone could get away with doing something like that.

“I screamed to every cop in town. They didn’t want to look into Frank. He was a pillar of the community, my brother was just the town freak.”

“You must’ve hated Frank O’Brien,” Dean said.

Mr. Garland nodded, “I did for a long time, but, life’s too short for hate, son. And Frank wasn’t thinking straight. His wife had vanished. He was terrified. A damn shame he had to put Luther through the same, but...that’s fear.” Mr. Garland’s gaze settled on me, as if he knew what was happening in me, “It spreads and spreads.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Now we know what these are- road rash,” I said as we exited the nursing home, motioning to my inner arm, “and I’m guessing Luther swallowed some wood chips when he was being dragged down that road.”

“Makes sense,” Sam said, setting the case file onto the top of the car, “you’re experiencing his death in slow motion.”

“Yeah, well, not slow enough, huh? I say we burn some bones and get me healthy.”

“Y/N, it won’t be that easy,” Dean cautioned.

“No, no. It will be that easy.” I clarified, my eyes darting between him and Sam, “Why wouldn’t it be that easy?”

“Luther was road hauled. His body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road. There’s no way we’re gonna find all the remains.”

My breathing quickened at Sam’s logic, steadying myself on the car, “You’re kidding me.”

“Look, we’ll just have to figure something else out.” Dean said as he pulled his keys from his pocket. I slowly pulled the backdoor open before slamming it shut again.

I shook my head, taking off away from the car, “You know what? Screw this.”

“Woah, woah!” Dean nearly shouted, him and Sam following me, “Come on-”

“No! I mean...come on, you guys.” I stared at them both wide eyed, feeling lost and confused and angry because I didn’t want to die. Of all the ways I thought I’d go out, dying of an illness was not one of them. “What are we even doing!?”

“We’re hunting a ghost,” Sam said slowly as if to help me better understand.

“A ghost! Exactly! Who does that!?”

Dean squinted his eyes at me as if trying to figure out if it was a trick question, “...us.”

“Us? Right.” I panted, feeling like I was going crazy. Every detail of our lives hitting me like a train, “And that- that is exactly why our lives suck! I mean, come on. We hunt monsters! What the hell!?” Sam and Dean watched me closely as I ranted but quietly listened nonetheless, “I mean, normal people, they see a monster, and they run but not us- no, no, no, we- search out things that want to kill us. OR EAT US! You know who does that? Crazy people! We, are insane!” I began to walk circles around the car, ticking off everything on my fingers as I rambled, everything I’d kept inside about our lives finally bubbling up, “You know, and then there’s the bad diner food and then the skeevy motel rooms and then the truck-stop waiter with the bizarre rash, I mean, who wants this life?! Do you actually like being stuck in a car with me eight hours a day, every single day? I don’t think so! I mean, I get car sick and I belt out the same five albums over and over and over again, and I’m annoying, I know that. And you two- you’re gassy! And it’s not just Dean, either, Sam, you eat half a burrito, and you get toxic! I mean, you know what, you can forget it.”

I panted, throwing my hands in the air as I walked toward the sidewalk, away from the car as Sam and Dean called after me, “Where are you going?”

I quickly turned on my heels, pointing at them, “Stay away from me! ‘Cause I am done with it. I’m done with the monsters and- and- and the hellhounds and the ghost sickness and the damn apocalypse. I’m out. I’m done. Quit.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I wiped the sweat from my forehead as I fell down on top of the motel bed. That damn dog from hell with it’s damned pink bow chased me all the way back to the Bluebird, giving me no choice but to come back.

The motel door was thrown open, Sam and Dean confused but relieved nonetheless at the sight of me, “We looked for you everywhere, Y/N! How the hell did you get here?”

I ground my teeth, trying to keep the dog out of my head, “Ran.”

“Don’t ever do that again,” Dean warned, pointing to me as him and Sam came to sit on the beds.

We sat in silence, knowing our options were slim-to-none. I glanced at the two of them, “What do we do now? I got less than four hours on the clock...I’m gonna die.”

“Yeah, you are.” Sam agreed, Dean nodding his head along with him. I sat back slightly, cinching my eyebrows together, “You’re going back.”

“Back?”

“Downstairs, Y/N. Hell,” Dean clarified, not a trace of sadness in his voice, “it’s about damn time, too. Truth is, you’ve been a real pain in our ass.”

At his words, Sam and Dean looked to me, Dean’s eyes pitch black while Sam’s were glowing yellow. I quickly stood from the bed but was thrown back against the wall, a pressure on my chest so strong I could hardly move my fingers.

“Get out of my brothers!” I yelled, only eliciting a laugh from them, “Bitch!”

Sam and Dean stood to their full heights as they smiled, “No one’s possessing us, Y/N. This is what we’re going to become.” They drew closer until they were inches from my face, “This is what we want to become.” Sam laid a hand on my shoulder, “and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I can take this from here,” Dean said this time, coming to stand where Sam was as he suddenly gripped me around the throat, squeezing, cutting off every airway-

“Hey, hey, hey! Y/N!” Dean shouted and suddenly, I could breathe again. I scratched at my throat, my eyes flying up to him as I pushed them both away slightly, their eyes back to their normal colors. Sam and Dean watched me closely, “You’re okay. It’s alright.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

*Sam’s POV*

I leaned against the Impala, waiting for Bobby to bring me the lore book he said could be of some use. Y/N was too scared to even stay alone in the motel by herself, the threat of a burglar in the middle of the day too big of a threat for her that she insisted Dean stay with her.

The low rumble of a car came up behind the Impala where Bobby came to a stop, “Howdy, Sam.”

“Hey, Bobby. Thanks for coming so quick.”

“Where are the other two?” Bobby asked, referring to Y/N and Dean.

I laughed lightly, trying my best to make light of a pretty dark situation, “Uh, home sick.”

“So, have her hallucinations started yet?”

I nodded, thinking back to how she’d freaked out on Dean and I, “Few hours ago.”

“How we doing on time?”

“Well, we saw the coroner about 8 AM Monday morning,” I checked my watch, the realization of just how little time he had hitting me, “so just under two hours.”

Bobby nodded as he handed over the lore book, a small, blue leather bound. “’Encyclopedia of Spirits’, dates to the Edo period.”

I flipped the book open, staring at the foreign lettering, “You can read Japanese?”

“Not the point,” he said, “this book lists a kind of ghost that could be our guy. It uh, infects people with fear. It’s called Buruburu.”

“It say how to kill it?”

“Same as usual: burn the remains.”

I sighed, fearing he’d say that, “Wonderful. Is there a plan ‘b’?”

“Well, the Buruburu is born of fear. Hell, it is fear. And the lore says we can kill it with fear.”

“So we have to scare a ghost to death?” I asked. This job just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

Bobby shrugged, “Pretty much.”

I nodded slowly, “How the hell are we gonna do that?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

*Y/N’s POV*

I sat at the edge of the chair I was in, mindlessly scratching my inner arm over the gauze Dean had wrapped over it, blood seeping through the bandages.

“How many times do I have to tell you to knock that off?” Dean asked from the other end of the couch.

I groaned, rolling my eyes as I watched the cartoon on the small TV, smiling slightly when the cartoon donkey was wrung around the neck by a rope, getting dragged away by a buggy.

I grimaced slightly, snatching the remote off of the table, “Not helping.”

Dean’s phone began to ring, Sam’s caller ID lighting up. Dean quickly reached for it, putting it on speaker, “Hey.”

“Hey. So, uh, just have Y/N ride out the trip, okay? She’s- she’s gonna be fine. We got a plan.”

I cocked an eyebrow skeptically as I switched the TV off, “What is it?”

“Uh, just a good plan, alright? Hang in there.”

Sam ended the call, leaving Dean and I to helplessly look at one another, praying it would work.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

*Sam’s POV*

“This is a terrible plan.” Bobby said as he loaded the rock salt rounds into his shotgun at the trunk of the Impala. We were back at the lumber mill in the hopes we’d be able to get rid of Luther Garland’s ghost once and for all.

“Yeah,” I said, pocketing the phone, “tell me about it.”

“I know I said ‘scare the ghost to death’, but this?”

“Hey, if you’ve got a better idea, I’m listening.”

Bobby shrugged, shutting the trunk as he followed me into the mill, walking aimlessly around the ground floor, waiting for Luther to make an appearance.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

*Y/N’s POV*

I ran a hand down my face, trying to block out the sound of my racing heart and the sound of the dogs barking-

Dogs barking?

I quickly looked around the room, the sound eerily similar to that of Hellhounds. I gripped the sides of the chair, mentally cursing Dean for leaving me here to get food from across the street.

My heart rate quickened, listening as the sounds of the snarling dogs seemed to come closer and closer until the motel door began to shake as if the dogs were pounding on it.

I lowered myself onto the floor, hiding behind the chair I’d been sitting in. I watched the door as it shook and shook and shook until it was kicked inward, splinters of wood flying into the room.

This is a hallucination, I’m hallucinating. I told myself but it was all too real when Sheriff Britton stepped into the room, his chest heaving. I slowly stood, “Sheriff? what are you doing here?”

My eyes traveled down to his hand where he was holding a gun, making my body freeze in panic.

“Why are you looking into Luther Garland’s death?” Al asked, his eyes feral.

I opened and closed my mouth, trying to think of something to say when I spotted his arm, his uniform sleeve coated in blood. “Hey, hey, you’re- you’re sick. Just- just like me, okay? You gotta relax-”

Suddenly, Al swung the butt of the gun into my temple, making me momentarily see stars. I shuffled backward against the wall, holding my head.

“Frank O’Brien was my friend.” Al said, “So he made a mistake. So I didn’t bust him. So what? And you’re gonna bring me down over that!?” I rested my head against the wall, balancing myself as he pointed the gun at me, “No, ma’am.”

Without thinking, I smacked the gun out of Al’s hand just from the fear of looking down its barrel. We both stood, slightly stunned that’d actually worked. I only had a few seconds before I was forced against the wall, Al’s arm pressed against my throat. I groaned, pushing his face away from mine, but doubled over in pain as he relentlessly punched my stomach, once, twice.

Focus, Y/N!

I shook my head as if clearing away a fog and took the opportunity when Al’s side was exposed, punching his abdomen with all of my strength, but he was too strong for me.

Al banged my head against the brick one more time, my vision spotting but before I had the chance to black out, I took notice of his now black eyes. It was enough for me to throw his body off mine, sending him crashing onto the glass coffee table next to us.

I stood back, watching hesitantly as Al writhed on the floor, gripping his chest, “Get away from me!”

“Al, you gotta calm down!”

“Step back!”

I watched helplessly as his struggling became worse when suddenly, his movements stops, his fingers unfurling from his shirt as he laid motionless on the floor.

“Y/N!” a voice yelled from the hallway, Dean skidding to a stop in the doorway, his eyes wide at the sight of Al and then looking to me, “Are you okay? What happened?”

I hesitated, the severity of the situation feeling worse than ever. My eyes raked over his lifeless body before looking to Dean, “He’s dead.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

*Sam’s POV*

I entered the next room, shotgun held out in front of me when Bobby’s voice came over the walkie-talkie at my hip, “Any luck?”

When I figured the coast was clear I let the gun fall beside me, bringing the walkie-talkie to my mouth, “I don’t know what’s wrong, Bobby. Last time he came right at us. It’s almost like he’s, uh...” I thought about it, really thinking about the kind of person Luther’s brother painted him as when it hit me, “it’s like he’s scared.”

I looked down at the gun in my hand, slowly lowering it to the ground as a sign that I wasn’t a threat to Luther, hoping my thoughts were true.

“So now what?”

I sighed, “Guess I gotta make him angry.”

I ran up to where Dean had found the first portrait of Jessie, remembering how Luther came when Dean had accidentally ripped it. Rummaging through each desk drawer, I found a pile of drawn portraits, all of them of Jessie.

I picked one up, “Hey Luther!” I shouted as I tore it down the middle before crumpling it into a ball, ripping each one multiple times. I began to hear the familiar sound of machinery starting up, the whirring of electricity as it came to life, “Come on, Luther! Where the hell are you!?”

I searched through the desk one last time before finding the last portrait. It was the largest of them all, and by far the most detailed. This was my last chance to get Luther where I needed him. My last chance to save Y/N. I breathed in deeply as I tore that one down the middle, too.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

*Y/N’s POV*

I sat at the end of my bed, ruthlessly scratching at each of my arms, blood and skin beginning to pool under my fingernails when Dean came back into the motel room, panting after having gotten rid of Al’s body.

“Hey, hey.” Dean said, coming to squat in front of me, gently taking my hands away from my arms. I looked down at him, scared out of my mind as their words echoed in my head.

“You’re going back.”

“It’s about damn time, too.”

Dogs barking.

Pounding heart.

Dean’s ticking watch.

I looked down at Dean’s wrist, “Take it off.”

“What?-”

“I said take it off!” I nearly shouted, making Dean throw the watch into his duffel bag under his bed but I could still hear it, the ticking of the seconds hand winding counting down the moments until my heart stopped beating.

I covered my ears, doubling over so my head was hovering above my knees. I opened my eyes, spotting a black book poking itself out from under the bed frame. I slowly pulled it out, the Bible staring back at me as if to tell me even God couldn’t help me now.

Regardless, I brought the book close to my lips, closing my eyes as I did the one thing I hadn’t done in years: I prayed. I prayed until I could no longer hear the ticking, my heartbeat drowning out when I heard a young voice that shook me so deep into my core my eyes flew open, my heart sinking.

“Hi, Y/N.”

I slowly turned toward Lilith who sat on the bed next to me, “No. No.” I growled as I gripped the Bible tighter, looking around the room for Dean who seemed to have vanished into thin air.

“Yes!” She said, “It’s me, Lilith.” Suddenly, she grabbed me on my shoulder, hugging me, “Oh, I missed you so much! It’s time to go back now.”

I slithered out from under her grasp, standing from the bed, “You- you’re not real!” 

“What’s the matter, Y/N? Don’t you remember all the fun you had down there?” I couldn’t even look at her, just her voice was something that haunted me years after I was dragged out of the pit. Lilith stood from the bed, walking toward me, “You do remember. Four months is like 40 years in Hell. Like doggy years. And you remember every second.”

For every step she took toward me, I took one back, trembling when a sharp pain reverberated in my abdomen, making me double over, “You are not real.” I gasped out, clutching my stomach.

Lilith yanked my head up so I was looking into her now all-white eyes, “It doesn’t matter. You’re still gonna die. You’re still gonna burn.”

I gritted my teeth, “Why me? Why’d I get infected?”

Lilith pulled her hands from my face, bringing her hands to her hips as her eyes rolled back to normal, “Silly goose. You know why, Dean. Listen to your heart.”

“What?” I asked, watching her.

“Ba-boom.” she said making me flinch in pain at the sudden sharpness in my chest. “Ba-boom.” I gasped in pain, falling onto my side, my hand clutching my shirt as my heart began to pound faster and faster, “Ba-boom. Ba-boom! Ba-boom!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

*Sam’s POV*

Luther threw me to the dirt floor, kicking my side in. I groaned in pain, reaching for the shotgun just out of arm’s reach but he picked me up by my heels, dragging me farther and farther away.

Luther flipped me over onto my back, rhythmically pounding me into the floor, almost to the beat of a heart.

The third time he threw me to the ground, I reached behind me, grabbing hold of anything I could when I felt an iron chain. Bringing it over my head, I quickly wrapped it around Luther’s neck, his eyes going wide. 

“BOBBY! PUNCH IT!”

I heard the rumble of the Impala outside of the mill doors as the car roared to life. I rolled out of the way just in time fore Luther to be dragged across the dirt floor, getting dragged out of the revolving doors.

I struggled to my feet, running outside where I watched Bobby drive faster and faster away, Luther right on the end. I checked my watch. Five seconds and Y/N would be dead.

Five.

I watched as Bobby maneuvers through light poles as the comes up on concrete.

Four. 

From where I stand, it looked like Luther was trying to unwrap the chain from around his neck.

Three. 

Bobby picks up speed, throwing Luther around like a rag doll.

Two.

Luther reaches again around his neck, nearly has the chain off.

One.

Suddenly, Luther starts to disintegrate, his body coming out in black rolls of smoke until finally, all that’s left is the car, and an empty chain.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

*Y/N’s POV*

My vision begins to fade in and out as I watch Lilith, eyes wide, thinking surely this is the end. I clutch my chest tighter, struggling to breath as I begin to accept my fate. Who would’ve thought this was how I’d go.

I took one final, shaky breath and my heart stops, a cold, dead feeling of dread washes over me, a blinding white light before suddenly it all comes rushing back, sending me flying forward through space time when I gasp for air. Dean is next to me, holding my shoulders as I cough, gulping in the air greedily.

“Holy shit,” Dean mutters as I desperately search out his hand, gripping it tightly when I find it, gagging for air. Dean pulls me close to him, “you’re alright. You’re alright.”

I slow my breathing, looking around the room, Lilith gone now. I slowly sit up, rolling my sleeves, the scratches were gone, too. “Sammy did it.”

Dean let out something between a cry and laugh of relief, “Yeah, Sammy did it.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“So you guys road-hauled a ghost with a chain?” I asked as we stood around the car, raising my eyebrows at Sam and Bobby.

“An iron chain etched with a spell word.” Sam clarified, drinking from the beer in his hand.

“Hmm,” Dean said, “now that’s a new one.”

“It’s what he was most afraid of. It was pretty brutal, though.”

“On the upside, I’m still alive, so uh, go team.” I said, nodding to them at that point, I didn’t really care how they’d done it, just that the job got done.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “how you feeling by the way?”

“Fine.” I said, not making eye contact with Dean who had to have known I was seeing a hallucination right before I nearly bit it.

“You sure, Y/N?” Bobby asked, “‘Cause this line of work can get awful scary.”

I ran a tongue over my teeth, I wasn’t about to worry them about some hallucination I knew wouldn’t come true, “I’m fine. You want to go hunting? I’ll go hunting. I’ll kill anything.”

Sam and Dean smirked at Bobby, “Aww.”

“She’s adorable,” Bobby smiled as the three of them laughed. “Well, I gotta get outta here. You kids drive safe.”

“You too, Bobby. Thanks again.”

Bobby waved Sam off as he drove away, dust collecting up under the back tires. We watched until his car was out of sight, until it was just the three of us leaned up against the car.

“So, uh, so, what did you see?” Sam asked. “Near the end, I mean.”

I squinted at him, blocking my eyes from the sun as I glanced to Dean who cocked an eyebrow at me. He definitely knew something. I sighed, “Oh, besides a cop beating my ass?”

“Seriously.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as I looked up at the two of them and, for an instant, I swore I could see their eyes flash. Dean’s, black, and Sam’s, yellow. I widened my eyes slightly before shifting my focus to the ground, “Howler monkeys. Whole roomful of them. Those things creep the hell out of me.”

“Right,” Sam laughed.

“No, no, just the usual stuff,” I said, trying to sound more sincere about this lie than the last. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Forever Tag List

@spnbaby-67 | @octo-cow52 | @wholelottajackles | @luciferslucille | @anti-social-club | @search-bar | @winchesternco | @mellorine-paprika​ | @thepocketshoelace​ | @jaremish​ | @the-salty-asian​ | @chelsea072498 | @the-hufflepuff-hunter​ | @robynannemackenzie-blog​ | @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ | @lilreethi​ | @find-sammys-shoe​

Winchester Sister Tag List

@resanoona | @mccartneywinchester | @bunnyandy12 | @prancingdestiel | @0livia-hope

Episode Rewrite Tag List

@nightshade7117​

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural oneshot #supernatural imagine #supernatural family #supernatural fandom #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfci #spn oneshot #spn imagine #spn family #spn fandom #yellow fever #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #imagine #dean #winchester #dean winchester #sam #sam winchester #masterlist #sister reader #winchester sister #winsister

[supersleepygoat]

Omg that ask about the abo noncon samXsister reader fic is literally everything I could want omg I wish I suggested it 😂😂 lmao I’ll beg you if I have to I neeeeedd ittttt ❤️❤️❤️

YASSS I'm stoked you are excited!! I guess I'll be spending my Saturday day-drinking on the patio and writing some Alpha!brother!Sam noncon... I literally cannot think of a more rewarding and fulfilling way to spend my time (that sounds like sarcasm, but it is 1000% not). No need to beg though hun because I think I am the most eager one here... I get hyped about my shit because I am loser that way. But... I have fully embraced that role. 

THANKS FOR LETTING ME KNOW YOU ARE EXCITED!!! YOU’RE SO SWEET! XOXOXO 

[all-the-fandoms-stuff-blog]

Forgotten Winchester Sister

Part Three

Pairings: SamxSister!reader DeanxSister!reader

                JackxReader (Slowly)

AO: So i just watched The Finale of Season 12 And im Crying: This Part is a little short so sorry. 

In the Next Morning we ate Breakfast and said goodbye to everyone. Claire and Alex gave me a hug “If you ever need something just call. And text me when you are home ok?” I smiled “I will Alex goodbye” Sam Dean and Jack drove with the Impala. And Cas and myself were in his old Truck. After e few hours he looked at me “Why did you wanted to drive with me Y/N?” I looked at the note book I had in my hands. “Cas I feel like I am a burden for all of you” He shook his head “You’re not a Burden Y/N” I smiled sadly “But I’m no help either” He looked to me again “You are Family Y/N and one of the strongest Humans on this earth!” we drove a little rode through the forest and it was quite Peacefully. “How are your wounds?” I Looked over to him “Better than yesterday” I saw a deer for a few seconds and was fascinated by him. “How do you do this?” I was confused “Do what?” He turned left and said “Y/N No one could walk or even sit with these wounds. Even angels would scream in Pain and probably die with these” I Looked at my hands. “I’m used to it cas. I think being tortured my whole life made me endure the Pain better”. He had a sad look in his eyes “I Know Dean drove often by your old house to see you but at one Point he stopped so no one will get suspicious of you” I Looked Out of the Window again “The Man who tortured me said something Cas. He said that Dean and Sam are Only Using me like some bait” Cas shook his Head “Y/N  they would never think of anything like this. When you called Dean the Night He Ran of the Room and Waked up everybody and he and Sam we’re so worried I Thought they had a panic attack .they probably had one  but well. And when we arrived in your Motel and you weren’t There Y/N, They Looked Like they had Lost the most Important thing in their life’s. Trust me Y/N when I say they Care about you and Love you” I smiled happily “Thanks Cas” He nodded and I decided to Sleep.

I woke up in a Bed. The walls were Grew and there was a Desk and a chair in the room. Two little tables on each side of the bed and a Closet.  I saw my Stuff in the bags next to the door. I Searched for something to wear. I changed in Blue jeans and a Green top. I didn’t feel like doing my hair so I did a Messy Bun. I walked out of the Room and started walking. I had 0 idea where I was going until I was in the Hallway Like room where I Met everybody The day I broke in the Bunker. But right now no one was here. I Walked to a Bookshelf’s and took one Out “Everything about Dragons” I looked surprised. I took the book and walked in the Kitchen. Sam and Dean were in it. “You told me so much but you forgot to tell me that Dragons are real” They Turned around and smiled “Good Morning to you too” I sat down next to Dean  ,and Sam gave me a Plate with Beacon and eggs. I shook my head “I don’t really eat breakfast.” Sam looked at me like I had punched Him in the face. “Why? It’s the most important meal of the day!” Dean took some beacon and ate it “Ok Mum, I just can’t really eat anything in the Mornings except fruit maybe” Dean Laughed and sam gave him a look “Ok well then here Eat an Apple” He gave me an Apple and I signed “Ok” I bit in the Apple when Castiel came in the Kitchen “good Morning we have a Problem” Dean Looked up to his Friend “What now?” Castiel sat down next to Sam Looked tired. “ Well first of all the Whole World knows now that you two have a Sister. And second of all they are a few Demons that are outside and they want to talk to her”  Dean stood up “Why to her” castile shrug his shoulder “I don’t know dean” I Followed dean “Let me talk to them I mean you Guys are behind me nothing is going to happen!” Dean Looked at me and shook his head “last time when nothing happened you nearly died” I looked over to Sam but he shook his head too “He’s right Y/N. You’re staying here” I sat down and said “I can take care of myself” Sam gave me a look an then they went out. I took out my phone and called Claire. “Hey! Your awake. Dean and Sam told us you were asleep” I signed “Yes, Sam and Dean are out right now because some demons wanted to talk to me and they wouldn’t let me talk with them” Claire laughed “Y/N I think they are Right. Demons they are not like ghost or werewolf’s” I Stood up and walked through the Bunker “I know But-“ Claire interrupted me “Y/N Sam and Dean wont let you do anything for a little bit. They almost Lost you. You can’t imagine how upset they were. They love you but you should listen to them “ I took the book about dragons from the Kitchen and walked to my room  and left the door open “I Know Claire” She laughed “I know how you feel Y/N trust me.” I sat down on my bed and opened the book “Thanks Claire” She laughed again “Anytime Y/N. I- Hey what the hell-.” It sounded like somebody tock Claires phone “Claire everything ok?” I heard Alex voice on the phone “She’s alright. It’s me Alex” I laughed “Did you really took her phone?” “What Nooo. Well yes but that doesn’t matter right now” I heard Claire cursing in the background “Y/N So how are you?” I smiled “Better thanks for asking” I heard Claire saying something to alex “Oh And how is Jack?” My face felt like it was on fire “Alex!” She laughed “I’m just asking a normal question!” I sighed “Yeah. Well I just waked up I don’t really know we’re he is” Alex laughed again “I find it super Cute how you get so nervous when I talk about Jack” I Laid down in Bed “Because you see things that aren’t there ok!”  I heard Claire saying in the Background “Well you said it. Go ask Jack” I gasped “Really Claire? With Alex I understand but now you too?” I heard them laugh and I had a smile on my face too. Then Alex spoke again “Listen Y/N I know there is something”  There was a knock on my door and I sat up. Jack stood there, he looked like he played with a grizzly bear. He looked at me and said “Can I come in?” I nodded “Omg Claire its Jack! Come Y/N tell him abou-“  I panicked and said “We will talk later guys bye!” I hung up and closed my eyes. God this was so awkward.  I looked up and saw that Jack was Reading the book about dragons. “I ehm wanted to learn things and I started with Dragons” He gave me the Book back “How are you feeling” His Eyes looked like they could see through me. “Not so god.” He sat on the edge of my bed and looked at me “Do you want to talk about it?” I shook my head “Not really” He looked a little sad “Can I do something to help you?” I smiled “Well I could really use some chocolate” He had a Big smile on His face And stood up “come I know where we can get some” I followed him through the Bunker We were in the Kitchen and he looked around to see if someone was here “I know that Dean would it all of them if he had the Change so I had to hide them.” He opened a cupboard and got out some chocolate. He took my hand and we went back to my room where he gave me some. I smiled “thanks” I ate something and he laughed “It’s good right?” I nodded and he ate some too. I looked to him “Jack do you have Claire’s or Alex’s phone numbers?” he shook his head and I sighed “Good” He looked confused and I just shook my head. “Y/N,? Jack?” We heard Castiel calling our names so we went to the noise. When we saw him he Looked to me and then to Jack “You two Go Hide right Now!” I heard guns outside I looked to castile “Cas whats happening?” He was about to say something but a lightning Pushed everybody  back. I looked up and saw a man standing there. He hand dark blond hair. And red eyes. He was looking at cas “Oh Brother did You really think Hiding will help her?” I saw how Sam and Dean were Running down the Stairs and Pointed they guns at the man. He just Laughed “Oh please don’t shoot me with you little bullets! Like I would care!” Dean Looked at me Panicked and the man Laughed “You should be worried Deany” I was about to stood up but Jack stood in front of me. The man looked at Jack “Really Son? You are going to Protect her” I froze. Jack is  His son? then he has to be “Oh im sorry that I didn’t introduce myself to you flower” He bowed “My name is Lucifer.”  Sam Came near us and Dean went slowly to cas who was lying on the Ground. Sam Looked at me and then To Lucifer “If you touch her I will-“ Lucifer Laughed “You will do what? What are you going to do Sammy? Tell me because I’m curious” Dean got up and shoot e few bullets in to Lucifer’s chest he just looked bored at dean, He lifted his arm and dean got pushed Against a wall. “Dean!” Me and sam said together and Sam shoot all his bullets too. And Just like dean he got pinned against a wall. I looked at them shocked “Ok!” I screamed and Lucifer looked at me smiling “What did you say” Jack looked back to me “Y/N Stop” I ignored him and castiel “You want me? Then let my family in Peace” Lucifer Laughed “Winchesters they’re all the same. But I Promise that I will let them live in Peace” Jack grapped my hand and pushed me further behind him “She isn’t going anywhere “ I saw cas Standing up with the Angel blade in his hands. Lucifer just lifted his Arm again and cas was pinned next to Dean. “Y/N You’re not fucking going” I looked to sam and Dean. Sam shook his head “Y/N No!” I smiled sadly at them and looked back to Lucifer who was enjoying all this. I took the Knife I had and cut me in the hand. Dean screamed at Lucifer “You Bastard Don’t Touch her. You listening?! I will hunt you down and kill you slowly!” Lucifer walked towards Dean and I looked at Jack and whispered “Trust me. I have a Plan ok” He looked at me angry and shook his hand i sighed “Jack please. Can you hold him in place for like 2 seconds?” He looked at me like I had gone crazy but sighed then and nodded. I Smiled “I’ll give you a sign when I’m ready” I squeezed his hand.  I looked up and saw Lucifer talking to Dean. I stood up and walked towards Lucifer Sam saw it and screamed “Y/N! Fuck stop this Y/N.” Lucifer turned around and I saw dean face. He looked so broken “Y/N Don’t” Lucifer smiled and walked towards me with open arms “Oh I see the flower is ready” I had my hands behind my back noting in them I Looked to Sam Dean And cas again. “Jack” I said. And Lucifer looked confused then  I heard behind me “Y/N NOW!” the next things I did felt like someone was controlling me. I walked forward and put my bloody hand on Lucifers Chest. He screamed in Pain and then I said a few words and he wasn’t here anymore. I felt to my knees and looked at my hands. I was so Confused. I saw how Dean and Sam ran towards me but I couldn’t hear then all I could here was someone Chuckling. Dean Hugged me and when he saw I wasn’t reacting he shook me. And after a while I heard him again”Y/N- Hey Y/N!!” I looked up in his eyes. “What happened?” Sam hugged me this time and looked at my hands “Do you remember anything?” I shook my head and looked around “I remember saying to Jack I had a Plan but I didn’t” I fell into Sam’s shoulder and he catches me “Y/N?” I sighed “I’m tired” Cas walked towards us and stood next to Dean. “Do you still know the witch that helped you back then to erase her memory?” Dean nodded. “Good because we will need her” Sam rubbed my back “Everthing is going to be alright” I shook my Head and looked into his eyes. I had tears in my eyes “What am I Sammy?” He gave me a little smile “You are Y/N Winchester. A Badass Hunter. The strongest girl I ever saw and you’re our Sister!”  I Put my head on his shoulders. “But what am I ?” No one could give me an answer. Sam helped me with my hands and Gave me something to eat after that I went in my room. The book about dragons still there. I grabbed my bag where I put a few personal thing from ohio. I looked at the Pictures. They showed me as an child. Smiling playing in the sand. And another me with another kid playing something. I put then on my desk and laid in my bed. I only caused trouble. Everbody wants me and I don’t even know why.

#Spn #Supernatural #SpnFandom #Dean Winchester #sam winchester #Castiel #JackxWinchester!Reader #Jack #WinchesterxSister!Reader #Winchester #Winchesters #Family #Winchester sister

[supernatural-freek]

Writing On The Wall

DeanxSister!Reader, SamxSister!Reader

Synopsis: Your heart’s beating too fast, and Michael is looking at you through your brother’s eyes as if he can see right through to your soul.

NOTE: this is really bad

MASTERLIST (PART TWO)

.

“So you’re the little sister,” Michael says, his voice smooth. He stares at you with Dean’s eyes, and he speaks to you with Dean’s voice, and when he reaches out and strokes your cheek, it’s Dean’s hand. But that’s not Dean in front of you. “Interesting.”

You keep your chin up, even though your heart is beating too fast and your head is screaming at you to run, you fool, run!

“Get out of my brother,” You says, and your voice doesn’t waver.

Michael chuckles lowly, his hand suddenly gripping your chin tightly. “Don’t pretend you have any power here, girl. I am the one in control, not Dean. Your brother’s gone, sweetheart. There’s only me now.”

You spit in his face. “Go to hell.”

Michael backhands you, and you startle because he doesn’t seem the type to get so irrationally aggressive. You’ve always thought Michael to be calculating, never acting without thinking. But this time, when you meet his furious eyes, you can see just how thin his control is.

“You will do well,” he murmurs, gripping your chin again. “To watch your tongue. I do not take your childish words kindly.”

You smirk, ignoring the fact that Michael’s grip hurts. “I thought you were above us mortals,” you taunt, and there’s fire on Michael’s face now, on Dean’s face. “I didn’t realise a girl could fluster you so much.”

Michael steps back, dropping his hand. You fight the urge to rub your chin, sure that there’ll be bruising there tomorrow. “Do you know that your brother is screaming right now?” He says cruelly and your bravado falters. “He’s begging me to leave you alone, to not touch his baby sister who he loves so dearly. And you know what that makes me want to do?” He grins at you wolfishly, and there’s nothin Dean about it. “It makes me want to break you apart and force him to watch.”

You think that Michael sees the shudder that rips through your body. But still, you keep your spine straight and your aching chin raised because you are a Winchester and you do not back down. “You won’t hurt me.”

Michael looks amused, but you know there’s frustration hidden underneath the mask. “Oh?”

“You like this game far too much to just end it.” Your smirk turns feral, matches Michael’s own cruel grin. “You like toying with us, showing us again and again that you control this situation. We catch you because you want to be caught. You keep Dean there, even if you weaken him, because you like seeing him break. You won’t tear me apart Michael because where would Dean be then?”

And for once, Michael looks unnerved. “There’s still darling brother Sammy,” he says, but he’s unsteady now. You’re playing his game far too well.

You tut disapprovingly. “Losing your nerve so soon, Mikey? I would’ve thought you were better than that?”

And suddenly his hand is around your throat and your feet aren’t on the ground. “I am a god, you worm,” Michael seethes, and that tether he had has gone now. This is pure, unchecked rage and you couldn’t be more satisfied. Because this is exactly what you wanted.

“No,” you wheezed smugly. “You’re an angel with daddy issues and a few magic tricks. You’re a copycat Lucifer who can’t even properly secure a vessel. You’re not special Michael, you’re nothing but a child whose daddy won’t love him.”

“Wench!” Michael roars, and he throws you. You hit the wall hard, the breath forced out of your body, but you’re grinning again because Michael is unhinged now, Michael isn’t controlled and careful and cunning. He’s angry, and anger causes mistakes.

“I am everything my brothers weren’t!” Michael hisses, advancing toward you. His eyes are glowing. There’s no trace of Dean on his face. “I am loyal, and smart, and strong. I can conquer worlds, and my father abandoned me anyway!”

“I am a human woman,” you say and you laugh as Michael kicks you. “And I have more power than you.”

Michael shouts and his wings flare, forcing you to look away from the light. “You are nothing!”

“So why are you losing control so quickly?”

A blade falls from Michael’s sleeve, and you laugh and laugh and laugh. You’re terrified beyond belief, and you’re heart is racing too fast still, and you can’t quite breathe properly but you laugh because if he stabs you, you win. “Are you gonna kill me, oh mighty one?” You jeer, and scramble to your feet. “Are you gonna be the big bad wolf and smite me?”

With a snarl, Michael lunges.

And as the knife spears into your chest, Dean’s eyes flicker and there’s nothing but horror as your brother drops you to the ground with a knife in your skin. “Y/N,” he whispers, staring down at you as you gurgle his name.

Fuck, you never thought dying could hurt this much.

“Fuck Y/N,” Dean says, and drops to his knees beside you. He doesn’t touch the knife, doesn’t look away from your face and you screw your eyes shut in pain. “What did you do?” He demands, and his anger isn’t anger, it’s just fear and pain. “Baby girl, you shouldn’t have faced Michael.”

“I got you back though, didn’t I?” You cough, and nearly choke on the blood that erupts out of your mouth. “You gotta find Sam, De. Call him, he doesn’t know I’m here. I left my phone at the bunker. You gotta get rid of Michael.”

“Y/N-“

“Get him angry. He’s easier to beat when he’s angry because he has less control. Riled him up De, you’re good at that.”

Dean shakes his head and gathers you up, jostling the knife. You whimper. “I’ll kill him,” he vows in a broken whisper.

You want to tell him that he can’t kill himself though, if he wants to kill Michael. Not after you’ve done this for him. Sammy, Cas and Jack need him. The Winchester boys.

Your Winchester boys.

So you use the last of your strength to murmur a message for Michael.

“You lose, you son of a bitch.”

And then Dean cries out, and you drop off the edge and embrace Death as you would embrace your brothers.

Your Reaper allows to stay long enough to watch as Michael tries to recapture Dean’s mind, only for Sam to burst in with Cas his tail and enchanted cuffs in his hands. When Dean glances at your unmoving body, the pure loathing there is Michael.

But then Sam starts crying, and you let your reaper lead you away because you’re done here.

You’re done.

#dean #sam #winchester #supernatural sister!winchester #supernatural sister!reader #sister!winchester #deanxsister!reader #samxSister!reader #sam and dean #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernaturalxreader #supernatural sister

[hunterpuff]

Dancing In The Rain

Characters: CastielxReader, DeanxSister!Reader, SamxSister!Reader

Summary: Reader needs a chance to just have fun. A rain storm gives her the opportunity she’s been waiting for.

Word Count: 1400

Warnings: None, pretty much just FLUFF

The life of a hunter didn’t leave much time for things such as fun and frivolity. When you were working a case, you had to give it all of your time and attention. Failure to do so could wind up in disastrous results, so goofing off was definitely out of the question. When you weren’t working a case, you were focusing your energy on finding one. The monsters and demons of the world didn’t take vacations or have playtime, so neither did you. It was something your older brother told you quite frequently anytime you made the mistake of suggesting taking a day to have some fun. Each time Dean told you no, you would deflate a little bit and your little brother would look at you with a sympathetic smile but you knew that he would always agree with Dean. That was just how it worked in your family.

For the first time in what felt like forever, it seemed as if there were no cases to be found anywhere in the country. Both of your brothers, yourself, and even Castiel had been sitting in the bunker for days trying to find something, but each time it seemed as if you had it turned out to be a false lead. You were getting bored, you were getting frustrated, and you were starting to go stir crazy. If something didn’t break soon, YOU were going to break. You had just leaned back in your chair with a sigh, ready to proclaim that you were done, when you heard the low rumble of distant thunder, followed by the sound of rain hitting the ground outside.

Looking up with a smile on your face, you popped up out of your chair as you looked around at the three men in the room. “Let’s go out and…just walk in the rain. We aren’t finding anything, it would do us some good to get out of here for awhile and…it would just be fun!”

Dean looked up at you, a scowl on his face, and just scoffed; mumbling something under his breath about not having time to act like a kid and not having a desire to get struck down by lightning. Sam gave you that smile of his, the one that let you know he sympathized with you but wasn’t going to take your side, before silently shaking his head and turning his attention back to his laptop. You felt your shoulders sagging, a small pang going through your chest as your brothers both rejected you, before turning to the one last person in the room. You didn’t really have any hope that he might go along with you, but you at least had to try. “Cas? Please?”

You watched as the angel looked at both of your brothers and then at you. Just from the look on his face you could tell he was having some sort of internal dialogue with himself, but what about you couldn’t say. He took a bit too long to answer and you knew he was trying to find the words to let you down easy. It didn’t surprise you, really. He was more your brothers’ friend than he was yours, but still…it would have been nice to have at least one person on your side for a change.

Hanging your head in defeat, you silently turned to leave the room. You might be alone, but you were still going to go out and enjoy the rain. For as long as you could remember, you had always enjoyed the water in any form. Lakes, ponds, oceans, all of it…but your favorite had always been dancing in the rain. It made you feel at peace and as if you were truly part of the world and not just merely existing in it. It had been too long since you had allowed yourself the small simple pleasure, and you weren’t going to let the three men in your life take it away from you.

As you stepped outside, you turned your face to the heavens with a smile and closed your eyes as you let the rain wash over you. Holding your hands straight out to the side of your body, you began spinning in circles as, for the first time in a long time, you felt free. In that moment…you weren’t a hunter, you weren’t a Winchester, you were just you. A girl getting to be light hearted and do something completely silly.

It hadn’t been more than five minutes before you got the feeling that you were being watched. Slowly coming to a stop, you looked around until you spotted the figuring standing in the doorway of the bunker; watching you will a small smile on his face. Walking over to him, you held out your hand with a smile. “Come on, Cas. Come play with me.”

You could see the hesitation on his face, but you weren’t about to allow him to say no to you. Not again. Before he could protest, you grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him out into the rain with you; unable to keep a giggle from escaping your lips at the look of shock on his face. You knew the angel was far too serious for his own good, so you were hoping you’d be able to get him to lighten up a bit and have a little fun. You tried to get him to move…to spin and dance in the rain with you, but he was resistant.

He did, however, seem to be enjoying watching you. As you spun in the rain, laughing as you felt it wash over you and you kicked water up out of the puddles that were forming, he stood there watching you with that same small smile on his lips. You supposed that you must look crazy to him. To be getting so excited about getting soaking wet and dirty from the rain and mud; not to mention the fact that he had probably never seen this side of you. The side that was able to forget about all of the bad and the evil in the world and just have fun. It wasn’t often that you got to do stuff like this, and you wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

When you finally tired of the jumping and the splashing, you walked back over to the angel and wrapped one arm around him as you took his hand in your free hand. You may not have been able to get him to play around with you, but you were going to get him to dance with you if it killed you. It took a couple of minutes, but finally he gave in and began to move with you, twirling you around as the water poured down around both of you. He was a little stiff, and a lot awkward, but you didn’t care. The point was that he was at least making an effort; he was trying. That alone meant more to you than anything else.

You weren’t sure how long you were in his arms, laughing as smiling as he twirled you and spun you in the rain, but it had been long enough that you were soaked to the bone and starting to catch a chill. As much as you didn’t want to, you knew you needed to get back inside to get warm and dry before you caught cold. You looked up to thank the one person who had been willing to come out with you, but before you could open your mouth to say a word, you felt a pair of lips brushing softly against yours. You blinked in surprise and had to take a moment to find your ability to speak again. “Cas? Wha- What was that for?”

He was looking down at you, his face entirely unreadable to you, but you could clearly see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to come up with the proper response. “I don’t know. It just…felt like the right thing to do. I’m sorry if-”

Shaking your head a little you brought your hand up to cover his lips before he could finish the apology. “Don’t apologize, Cas. I’m not upset.”

“You’re not? I thought perhaps I had done something wrong.”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong Cas. In fact, it was perfect. You’re perfect.” You tilted your head a little as you looked up at him, a small smile on your face. “You know…I’ve never been kissed in the rain before. I’m glad you were the first.”

Tags: @wayward-mirage @trollhunter94 @just-another-busy-fangirl

#hunterpuffwrites #spn #casxreader #castielxreader #castiel x reader #sister!reader #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #castiel reader insert #spn fiction

[fictionalabyss]

Big Bad Dean Winchester

Pairing : Winchesters x sister!reader. Words : 987

It was after 3am. You were tiptoeing through the main room as quietly as possible. You knew your brothers would be pissed. Not only did you sneak off on a hunt alone, but you stole Dean’s car to do it. You were hoping they were still asleep and hadn’t noticed. So far, So good.

You passed through the kitchen to grab a water, and the lights went on. You jumped when you saw Sam sitting at the table, and Dean blocking the door way behind you.

“Where the hell were you?” Dean was livid. When you didn’t answer fast enough he grabbed the bag off your arm and opened it. He threw it on the table for Sam. “Guns, Salt…”

“Hunting? Alone? Are you crazy!?” Sam looked more worried then mad.

“It was just a salt and burn..” You shrugged. “In and out. I’ve only been gone 3 hours.”

“Where the hell is my car?” Dean growled. “Outside… where you left it?” “It wasn’t when I woke up.”

“Okay, outside where I left it, in the exact same spot that you left it.” You looked to Sam. “We done here?”

“No! Sit!” Dean growled. Obviously not going to let this go. You rolled your eyes and sat across from Sam. “You know you’re not allowed to drive my car.”

“I’m not allowed to drive any car apparently. I can’t use yours, I can’t use one in the garage, I can’t get my own.”

“Because you pull shit like this!” You sighed at Dean, and turned to Sam. He was giving Dean the ‘calm down’ look. Dean threw his hands up. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

“You can’t hunt on your own, y/n.” Sam stayed calm, but you could tell he hadn’t been when he woke up to you gone, and Dean flipping out.

“I’m 18 Sam, and you’re not my father.”

“No, we’re your brothers.” Dean growled. “And we said No.” “Half brothers.” You mumbled. “What’s that?” Dean was getting riled up again. “HALF BROTHERS!” You yelled at him. “Your dad knocked up my mom. I won the family fucking lottery with that one didn’t I? Get over yourself.”

“Get over MYSELF?!” “Dean..” “No Sammy, I want to hear this.”

“Yes, get over yourself. Big bad fucking Dean Winchester. Everyone better listen to him, because he’s JOHN’S BOY. You are not John’s only fucking kids, alright guys?” You shoved Dean away and left the room.

Sam sighed and licked his lips. “Son of  a bitch!” Dean growled. “Y/n!” he called out as he followed you. You went up the halls ignoring him. You turned into your room, and he was not far behind when you slammed the door in his face. “Y/N, please. Open the door.” “Fuck off, Dean!” Dean wanted to just punch the door. “She definitely has the Winchester temper.” Sam was behind Dean, leaning on the wall. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Deans voice was almost sad. He was waiting for the sound of you smashing things. But it was quiet.

When you finally opened the door you were surprised Dean was still there. His jaw was clenched as he watched you wipe a tear off your cheek. Then he noticed the backpack over your shoulder. “Just leave me alone.” You pushed past him. Sam moved in front of you. You glared up at him. “Move.” “No.” Dean barked behind you. “Where do you think you’re going?” “Anywhere but here.” You were in an epic stare down with Sam. Your eyes furious, his almost sad.

“Its almost 4am, you’re not going out there.” Sam folded his arms over his chest. “It’s no more dangerous then it was an hour ago.” You tried to move past him but he blocked you. “Sam, I’m not kidding. Move.” “Or what?” His voice was level.

You glared at him. You were so mad you started shaking. It was like a shiver that just wouldn’t go away. You could feel it in your arms and legs. You wanted to hit something, anything.

“You need to stop running off on your own in the middle of the night..” Sam’s voice was low again, almost sad so you cut him off. “I was doing fine on my own when you found me, Sam. I can take care of myself, I’m not a child.”

“But you’re hunting now. It’s not just creeps you need to be worried about. Everything supernatural knows about you now, and hunting alone can get you killed.” Deans voice was still hard and angry.

“So what!?” You screamed at Dean, now facing him. “Like anyone would give a shit.”

Both boys stood in shock. How could you think that? You took advantage of it and ducked by Sam before he could react. He saw the tears in your eyes  as you turned a corner and started running. He didn’t believe you would leave. He figured you would find a quiet room somewhere and get it out. But when they heard the front door slam, Dean started to panic.

“We can’t lose her, Sammy… I can’t lose someone else.” He took off running. Sam wasn’t far behind when they ran out the door. Baby was still there so at least you hadn’t stolen it again. Shit what if you left with his keys. He had forgotten to take them back from you. He ran up the road, trying to find you, looking everywhere. You couldn’t have gotten far. You just couldn’t be gone. “Dean… ” He turned to Sam. Then he heard it. Sobbing. Sam pointed up.

You were sitting over the door, knees pulled to your chest, your face in your arms crying. Dean sighed with relief. He looked around and figured out how you had climbed up. Next thing you knew, he was next to you, wrapping his arms around you. “We’d give a shit.” His voice was a whisper against your hair. “You’re our baby sister. Of course we would give a shit.”

*If you like, please consider supporting my work, or requesting a commission.*

Tagging : Dean - @evyiione   @soythedemonqueen   @deanandsamsbitch @akshi8278

Supernatural - @roxyspearing @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @mrs-celestial-dragneel-redfox23 @internationalmusicteacher @extreme-supernatural-lover @super100012 @legend-o-zelda @myloveforyouxx @kickasscas67 

All tags - @dustycelt @gloria1097 @pearky22   @trashforwinchesters    @hexparker @reigningqueenofwords @feelmyroarrrr @thenotsoinocentthing @27bmm @sleepylunarwolf @pureawesomeness001 @izawrites @thesassmisstress @fandomsneverdie14 @myliveisgreat-blog-blog-blog @me-a-unicorn @xalgaliareptx @destiels-new-girl

#Q #reader insert #sister!reader #winchestersxsister!reader #winchesters x sister!reader #deanxsister!reader #deanxreader #dean x sister!reader #dean x reader #samxsister!reader #samxreader #sam x sister!reader #sam x reader #winchester!reader #spn #spnfics #supernatural #supernatural fics

[thewinsisterchronicles]

Masterlist

After many decades, @thewinsisterchronicles​ has decided to make a masterlist! Thank you to all of those who waited patiently, reminded me, edited my fics, and inspired me to work on them. You’ve all been great helps.

I’m not one for long introductions who am I kidding I love them so I’ll keep it sweet and short. Without further ado…

Dean

~Do You Have Any Idea?~

Do You Have Any Idea (P2)

I Miss You

~When the ghost you’re hunting is chill af~

Safe or Smothered

~Being Dean’s daughter~

~Dean’s Son~

~Can’t fall asleep~

~On your first hunt~

Sam

That Wasn’t Me

~“I’m lactose intolerant, so…”~

What are You Doing Up?

~Falling asleep in Sam’s arms~

~Protective Sam during your teen years~

~In a thunderstorm~

~Being Sam’s daughter~

~Taking a study break~

More Than You Could Know

Going with Sam to Stanford

Sam & Dean

Drugs Don’t Look Like That

It’s Going To Be Okay

~“I can’t even believe you said that…”~

He’s Not Real- Series (Completed)

Je Veux

He Didn’t Say Pie

One Hell of a Hunter

You Can’t Be Certain

~“Dad’s gone.”~

~When you’re sick~

~When you’re upset~

~Being forced to go to school~

~Being their older sister~

Freak

What You’ve Done - Series (Completed)

~Dealing with separation anxiety~

Lions

Jensen

Can I Call You Dad?

~At the Con~

Hey Bug

At the Airport

Jared

~You’re Jared’s daughter and he comes home from filming~

Sista

~Being Jared’s daughter~

Blow Out Your Candles, Tom

Jensen & Jared

~ACDC~

J2M

~When J2M sees you’re having issues with your father~

~When they cheer you up~

You both Kiss Too Much

Other

~Meeting Mary for the first time~

Claire x Reader

Gabey?

Just so you are aware, I’ve categorized these by who the reader’s relationship is focused on. This means that if it is a SamxReader fic, then it will be under the Sam category. There might still be other characters, but they won’t play as big of a role as the central characters- even if the other character is the other brother.

Also, those ~made fancy~ are either gif drabbles, headcannons, or were written for a challenge. Requests are not ~fancified~. Also note that I have not included all of my headcannons. There are so many that it would take way too long to collect them all on my own time, but they can be found by going to my blog’s homepage and searching Headcannon in the search bar:)

—also if ive forgotten a fic then pls let me know bc I’m terrible at these things—

#masterlist #TWC's masterlist #masterpost #jaredxdaughter!reader #jensenxdaughter!reader #samxsister!reader #deanxsister!reader #platonic relationships #sister!winchester #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Mary Winchester #John Winchester #Supernatural

[imadeangirl-butimsamcurious]

Sam x Reader Masterlist for all my Sam girls out there! And here’s a link to my Main Masterlist if you’re interested in other pairings or series!

ONE SHOTS

I’m Bleeding (SamxSister!Reader, Fluff)

Soft-Spoken (SamxReader, Action? I’m not sure how to classify this.)

Bluebell (SamxReader, Angst, Fluff)

Stay With Me (SamxReader, Fluff)

IMAGINES

Imagine convincing Sam to let you braid his hair and Dean laughing when he sees it.

Imagine Sam hiding things from you on the top shelf because you’re short and he thinks it’s cute.

Imagine falling asleep on Sam’s shoulder in the backseat of the Impala.

Imagine accidentally walking in on Sam while he’s working out.

Imagine watching Sam run his fingers through his hair in the morning.

Imagine waking up beside Sam Winchester.

Imagine trying to clean cuts on Sam’s face and him having to put you on the counter because you’re too short.

Imagine standing on a chair because you want to be taller than Sam.

Imagine reading a book in bed with Sam.

Imagine convincing Sam to let you cut his hair.

Imagine Sam teasing you because you have small hands.

Imagine going for a run with Sam Winchester.

Imagine not being able to keep up with Sam on a walk because your legs are too short.

Imagine Sam coming back to your motel when he’s covered in glitter.

Imagine having to hide in a closet with Sam while searching an office on a hunt.

Imagine calling Sam to kill a spider on the ceiling.

Imagine Sam comforting you during a thunderstorm.

#ImADeanGirlButImSamCurious #ImADeanGirlButImSamCurious Masterlist #supernatural masterlist #sam x reader #sam x reader fanfiction #Sam Winchester #sam

[thewinsister]

Birthday Girl

Warnings: none

Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester, Sister!Reader, John Winchester (mentioned).

Summary: reader is anxious about their birthday.

Word Count: 868

Y/N: your name

Y/N/N: your nickname

You had to say the past week had been, well, something else. Your birthday was on Sunday so of course your big brothers  decided that everyday they’d ask the same goddamn question you began to hate so much: “Who’s birthday is on Sunday?”. It was stupid really but the thought of your birthday was almost unbearable to withstand. It was hard to explain why you hated that date so much, you didn’t hate being alive it was just that good things didn’t tend to happen on your birthday and them reminding you of it wasn’t helping. You had managed to keep your composure for the entire week, well, almost. Everything was going okay until Saturday, the second you woke up the anxiety was already heavy inside your stomach, the stress from the next day was very present. Slowly you lifted yourself from the bed preparing yourself for the inevitable question you were to be asked.

You walked calmly into the kitchen and began preparing yourself a cup of coffee, suddenly you felt a presence behind you and you tensed up turning around grabbing the person by their collar and putting a fist to their face. Immediately you realized it was your older brother Damn, anxiety and hunter instincts really don’t mix well.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s just me chill.” Said Dean giving you a scared look knowing your strength and what would’ve happened if you’d just punched him without hesitating.

“Oh crap, sorry De.” You said as you let go of your big brother and straightened his shirt where you had grabbed him. You cringed internally as you anticipated the question, you began counting, waiting for the moment.

“Hey! Who’s birthday is tomorrow?” You heard Sam coming in from the hallway and the second you the last words escaped his lips you broke down. All the composure and patience you’ve had the entire week was gone. Suddenly every single memory from you past birthdays flooded into your brain like a someone pulled out the plug keeping everything inside.

“Y/N? Y/NN, what’s wrong?” Asked sam concerned he had done something to cause this.

“I’m- I’m sorry, excuse me.” You nearly sobbed, moving them away and running into your room. You didn’t want to face your past, not now at least. You laid on your bed for who knows how long, reminiscing on every single thing in your life. It confused you how your siblings weren’t the type to get excited over birthdays unless of course, it was yours. As always it was time for your brothers to come in and try to help you which they usually did, but this time you didn’t think they could. So you heard as the door to your room creaked open to reveal your brothers, your face against the pillow you only heard and felt them sit down next you.

“You wanna talk?” Said the person you could only describe as Sam as he put his hand on your back.

“Come on Sammy you already know the answer to that.” You said curtly as your tears began to dry on your cheeks.

“Doesn’t hurt to try though. So tell us what’s wrong, cause you know that if you don’t tell us now we’ll get it out of you somehow.” He said, and you knew he was right. It always ended like that; you hesitated before flipping over and sitting up.

“I-ugh. I just really don’t like my birthday.” You said looking down at your hands.

“Why?” Asked your eldest brother Dean.

“Because not very good things have happened on my birthday De. Don’t you remember?” upon hearing silence you continued, “My mother died when I was 6, so I was put into foster care, on my 7th birthday my foster parents ended up being freakin’ mauled by vampires, Dad finds me and so on until he leaves, then we find him and he too dies on my birthday. It’s like I’m bad luck…” You finished, tears leaking out once again from your eyes.

“Y/N. Don’t ever say you’re bad luck ever again. You are the everything but bad luck Yeah, you’ve gone through stuff but all that just brought you to us. We won’t ever let those things happen to you again, do you understand?” Said Dean reassuringly to you.

“yeah.” you answered softly.

“Y/N/N we love you so so much, you have made our lives smooch better and brighter. I remember when Dad first brought you I was so happy. I remember how you left us surprised the  first time you hunted because of how good you were, I remember how you won the spelling bee at your school. Those are the memories you should remember, you’ve helped us both so much and I hate that you think your bad luck.”

“Thank you Sammy, I love you both.” You said wiping away your final tears.

“Hey, what do you say if tomorrow morning I’ll make you your favourite breakfast. We can do whatever you want.” Sammy asked you lovingly.

“Yeah, that sounds good. But right now, I need my coffee” You said and you all laughed and got up ready to continue your day, your lives.

...........................................................................................................

Okay so i know it’s short but I just whipped this up out of the fact that my birthday is actually on Sunday and I am actually kinda freaking out. 

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