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#dean winchester x little sister!reader
marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 hours
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Not Alone
Sam and Dean Winchester & teen!reader (platonic obviously)
Requested by @deansobssessedgirl
Synopsis: the brothers take you in after rescuing you, but after a while the three of you butt heads
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You were thirteen when your life ended.
You were thirteen when your life began.
Somehow both statements felt right, despite being polar opposites. The hole left inside you after a werewolf killed both of your parents felt like a life-ending event; the kind you never recover from. But the two hunters that had turned into your big brothers felt like a home that you couldn’t live without; they felt like a new life.
You’d been about to join your parents fate, your heart doomed to be a werewolf’s lunch, when the Winchesters stepped in. A single silver bullet had stopped your parents’ murderer right in his tracks.
But the simplicity of the hunt ended there. The Winchesters were unfazed by the dead monster on the floor, the blood everywhere, and even—to a certain extent—the dead man and woman strewn across their own living room. The boys had seen too many monsters, too much blood, too much death, to be fazed now. But what they hadn’t seen before was this—an orphaned girl covered in blood, the gun that had fired the silver bullet in her hands. She’d been the one to down the werewolf.
The boys had come in guns blazing, of course, but they’d been caught off guard by the presence of two werewolves instead of one. The first one had knocked Sam’s gun from his hands, and was going for Dean’s when Dean downed him. The werewolf had still managed a single lunge in its dying moments, landing itself on top of the older Winchester. Pinned, he could only watch as the werewolf’s mate went for a helpless Sam.
Neither brother had even seen the young teen until she snatched up Sam’s weapon and killed the werewolf with it.
“Thanks, kid,” Sam breathed, still in shock.
“Yeah, you really saved our bacon back there. That…that was really brave,” Dean added.
“They killed my parents.” You didn’t even look at the brothers whose lives you just saved. Your eyes could not be torn from the carnage on your living room floor.
“Hey.” Sam had no idea where the instinct came from—he was the younger brother, and the role of caretaker usually didn’t come naturally to him. But when he saw your haunted eyes glued to your dead parents, he couldn’t help but step in. He pulled you into an embrace, turning you in his arms so that you wouldn’t be able to look at the bodies. “I’m so sorry, kid.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go.” Sam’s grip tightened on you as you started to sob. He went to look over your shoulder at Dean when he saw it; blood covering your shoulder.
“Kid…did the werewolf bite you?”
“I don’t-don’t know.” You winced when Sam’s fingers pushed your shredded sleeve to the side to get a better look. “It might’ve been his claws.”
“I can’t tell…” Sam mumbled, and Dean suddenly came forward, on high alert.
“I can’t either,” he breathed, looking up to make eye contact with Sam. Their worried gazes alerted you, finally seeming to snap you out of your shock.
“What does that mean?” Your voice was quiet, but it still got the boys’ attention.
“If-if it’s just claw marks, it doesn’t mean anything. But a bite…” Sam struggled to get the words out.
“A bite means that you’re a werewolf now,” Dean said. “Kid, if it bit you, you gotta tell us.”
“I don’t know.” Your tears returned full force as panic set in. “It-it all happened so fast, it could’ve been his claws, or-or…”
“Ok, hey.” Sam had you back in his arms in a moment, shaking his head at Dean and mouthing “later.”
The boys took you back to the bunker that night. You had no family that would miss you, and they had to keep you around until the next full moon, “just in case”.
The full moon came and went, and you never turned.
But you also never left the brothers. Somehow, after that long and stressful night as the full moon hung over the sky, it never crossed any of the trio’s minds to separate. You had no family, and the boys had effortlessly filled the role during that month. Nobody wanted it to end, so they didn’t end it.
Now you were sixteen, and three years had changed you a lot. You were the same fiery girl that shot down that werewolf at thirteen, but now you had the knowledge, training, and experience to be a full-fledged hunter. At least, in your opinion.
The boys thought differently.
“It’s just a ghost, basically a milk run!” You argued for what felt like the hundredth time. “And I can handle it on my own!”
“Oh, like you handled that vamp nest on your own?” Dean scoffed. “Not happening.”
“That was different,” you insisted. “I didn’t know it was going to be a whole nest.”
“Exactly, hunts are unpredictable,” Dean said. “Which is why you don’t go alone.”
”Come on!” You pleaded. “Sam?” You turned to the younger Winchester, who’d been silent up to that point.
“Don’t look at me.” Sam held his hands up. “I want you safe just as much as Dean.”
“I’m not trying to be unsafe,” you said. “I’m trying to help here.”
“You do help here,” Dean said. “And you’ll help even more if you’re not dead.”
“But you guys are already up to your necks researching archangels and knights of hell. I’ve gotta be able to do something!” You said.
“Hey now,” Sam cut in before Dean could continue the argument. “Is that why you wanna do this? You think you don’t do enough around here?”
“I know I don’t,” you huff. “Just let me do this hunt, please.”
“Not without me,” Dean said. “And certainly not on some crap mission to prove yourself. Your family kid, you’ve proven that over and over again. You don’t have to ‘do enough’, and even if you did you already have. Look, you don’t need both of us. Sam can stay here and research, but I’m coming with you on that hunt. Solo hunts just for the sake of solo hunts are stupid, we don’t do that unless it’s a necessity. None of us, not even me or Sam, are gonna go alone unless we have to, and you don’t. It’s not about you being a kid, it’s about being smart, ok?”
You were quiet for a long moment, thinking over everything the brothers had said.
“Ok?” Dean prodded.
“Ok,” you said. You gave him a tiny smile, and he reciprocated it.
“Ok,” Dean affirmed. “Now get your butt in the Impala, we’ve got a ghost to burn.”
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl
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pumpkinspiie · 5 months
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sibling showdown…
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(warnings. angst.)
The night was thick with tension as Sam and Dean Winchester stealthily moved through the dense woods. Their flashlights cut through the darkness, revealing twisted branches and ominous shadows. The brothers were on a relentless pursuit to rescue their younger sister, Jenna, who had been kidnapped by a cunning skinwalker during a routine hunt.
A rustle in the bushes ahead put them on high alert. Dean tightened his grip on the silver knife, and Sam silently loaded his shotgun. The woods seemed to come alive with whispers as they closed in on the creature's lair.
Suddenly, a chilling howl echoed through the trees, sending shivers down their spines. The brothers exchanged determined glances, knowing that time was of the essence. Jenna's life hung in the balance.
The trail led them to an abandoned cabin hidden in the heart of the forest. Cautiously approaching, they heard Jenna's muffled cries from within. Dean kicked open the door, revealing the skinwalker looming over their sister, who was bound to a chair.
Without hesitation, Sam unleashed a barrage of shots with his shotgun, forcing the creature back. Dean lunged forward, slashing at the skinwalker with his silver knife. The battle was fierce, each sibling fighting with unmatched determination to save Jenna.
Amidst the chaos, Jenna managed to free herself and crawled to safety. Sam and Dean relentlessly pursued the skinwalker, cornering it in a dimly lit room. The creature snarled, its eyes flickering between the brothers.
As the final showdown unfolded, Sam recited an incantation, invoking the power of ancient spells. Dean seized the opportunity, plunging the silver knife into the heart of the skinwalker. The room was filled with an otherworldly wail as the creature disintegrated into dust.
Breathing heavily, the siblings gathered in a tight embrace, relieved to have Jenna back unharmed. The moonlit night bore witness to the unbreakable bond of the Winchester family, forged through countless battles against supernatural forces.
As they exited the cabin, the dawn painted the horizon with hues of orange and pink. The brothers, victorious yet weary, led Jenna through the now serene woods, ready to face whatever challenges the next hunt would bring.
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The aftermath of the skinwalker encounter lingered like a haunting memory for the Winchester siblings. Jenna, grateful for her brothers' unwavering protection, couldn't shake the fear that clung to her like a shadow. Sam and Dean, ever vigilant, sensed the weight she carried.
Days passed, and the trio found themselves holed up in a rundown motel. Jenna sat on one of the beds, gazing out the window as the rain pattered against the glass. Sam approached, his concern etched across his face.
"Hey, Jenna, you holding up okay?" Sam asked, his voice soft.
Jenna nodded, but the haunted look in her eyes spoke volumes. "It's just... I never thought I'd be the one needing saving."
Dean entered the room, a tray of coffee cups in hand. He sat down beside Jenna, offering her a cup. "We've all been there, sis. What matters is we got each other's backs."
As the rain outside intensified, the siblings huddled together, recounting stories of past victories and losses. It was a ritual, a way to heal the wounds inflicted by the supernatural. In those moments, the Winchester bond grew stronger, a beacon against the encroaching darkness.
Their next case led them to a small town plagued by mysterious disappearances. Unbeknownst to them, a malevolent force lurked in the shadows, orchestrating a sinister plot. The Winchesters, driven by duty and determination, set out to unravel the town's dark secrets.
As they delved deeper into the investigation, the siblings faced new challenges and unearthed a conspiracy that went beyond anything they had encountered before. The threads of the supernatural tapestry intertwined, weaving a narrative that would test their limits.
In the heart of the town's abandoned asylum, the Winchester trio confronted a formidable adversary. The air crackled with tension as they prepared to face a malevolent entity that thrived on chaos. The shadows of redemption loomed, and the Winchester legacy continued in the unending battle against the forces that sought to plunge the world into darkness.
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The eerie silence of the abandoned asylum was shattered as Sam, Dean, and Jenna faced the malevolent vampire lurking in the shadows. The air grew thick with tension as the siblings squared off against the supernatural foe, ready for the impending battle.
The vampire moved with blinding speed, dodging Sam's strikes and countering Dean's attacks. In the chaos, Jenna found herself ensnared in the creature's vice-like grip. Panic flickered in her eyes as she struggled against the vampire's strength.
"Let her go!" Dean bellowed, his silver knife gleaming in the dim light.
The vampire, reveling in its advantage, chuckled darkly. "You Winchesters always think you can control the narrative, but fate has a different plan."
With a swift motion, the vampire sank its fangs into Jenna's neck, draining the life force from her. Horror and desperation gripped Sam and Dean as they witnessed their sister succumbing to the vampiric curse.
Time seemed to slow as the siblings faced a gut-wrenching choice. Jenna's transformation into a vampire was imminent, and they knew the consequences of such a fate. The weight of the decision pressed heavily upon them.
In a moment of shared determination, Sam and Dean locked eyes, silently communicating the unbearable decision they had to make. With a heavy heart, Dean raised his silver knife, ready to end Jenna's life before the vampire's curse took hold.
However, in a surprising turn, Sam intervened, seizing Dean's arm. "There has to be another way, Dean. We can find a cure, break the curse. We can't give up on her."
The struggle between hope and despair played out on their faces as they grappled with the impossible choice. The vampire, sensing the internal conflict, reveled in the chaos it had sown among the siblings.
The echoing sounds of the impending decision resonated through the asylum, leaving the Winchester trio at a crossroads that would reshape their lives forever. The echoes of their choices would linger in the haunted corridors, as the shadows of destiny loomed larger than ever before.
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The abandoned asylum echoed with the haunting aftermath of the life-changing encounter. Sam and Dean, faces etched with the weight of their decisions, hastily carried Jenna back to the dimly lit motel room. The once-familiar haven now felt like a battleground of emotions.
Jenna lay on one of the beds, her skin already bearing the pallor of transformation. The vampiric curse coursed through her veins, threatening to extinguish the last remnants of her humanity. Sam and Dean paced the room, their minds racing with conflicting thoughts.
"We can't just let her turn," Dean grumbled, frustration evident in his voice. "It's a death sentence."
Sam, however, couldn't shake the glimmer of hope. "There has to be a way, Dean. We've faced impossible odds before. Maybe there's a cure, a way to reverse the process."
As they deliberated, Jenna's eyes flickered open, now reflecting the crimson glow of a nascent vampire. She weakly raised her hand, her voice barely audible. "Guys, whatever you decide, I trust you. Just promise me one thing."
Both brothers turned their attention to Jenna, their expressions a mix of sorrow and determination.
"Promise me you'll always protect each other," Jenna whispered, her plea hanging heavy in the air.
The gravity of the situation settled upon the room, each passing second marked by the impending transformation. Sam and Dean exchanged a solemn nod, their unspoken commitment to Jenna echoing through the silent motel.
Realizing the urgency, Sam fervently began researching vampire lore, seeking any clue that could lead to a solution. Dean, torn between pragmatism and loyalty, kept a watchful eye on Jenna.
The room became a crucible of emotions, a battleground not just against supernatural forces but within the hearts of the Winchester siblings. As the motel's flickering light cast shadows on their strained faces, the bond that held them together faced its most formidable test.
The brothers knew that whatever decision they made would fracture the fragile semblance of normalcy they had clung to. In the face of the supernatural, destiny loomed large, and the Winchester legacy hung in the balance.
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The motel room was cloaked in an atmosphere of uncertainty as Sam continued to sift through ancient texts, desperately searching for a glimmer of hope. Jenna's transformation progressed, her once vibrant eyes now betraying the ominous crimson hue of a vampire.
Dean, unable to bear the tension, approached Sam. "Any luck finding a cure?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of anxiety and impatience.
Sam sighed, his eyes scanning the worn pages. "It's complicated, Dean. There are mentions of rituals, but they're risky, and success isn't guaranteed."
As the brothers deliberated, Jenna's condition worsened. Her strength waned, and the hunger that accompanied the vampiric transformation gnawed at her insides. She mustered the strength to speak. "I can feel it, guys. The change is happening fast."
A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant hum of passing cars. The brothers shared a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the agonizing decision that loomed over them. In that moment, they understood the gravity of the pact they were about to make.
Dean, steeling himself, approached Jenna's bedside. "We can't let you become a monster, Jenna. We won't."
Jenna, though weakened, managed a faint smile. "I trust you, Dean. Do what you have to."
The brothers exchanged a solemn nod, their unspoken bond resonating through the room. Dean raised the silver knife, his hand trembling with the weight of the impending choice. Sam, conflicted but resolute, placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.
In a heartbeat, the room became a crucible of fate. The shadows of the night bore witness to the Winchester brothers' unwavering commitment to protect each other, even when faced with the most heart-wrenching decisions.
As Dean made the painful cut, severing the connection between Jenna and the darkness that threatened to consume her, a solemn pact with the night was forged. The room echoed with the echoes of sacrifice and determination, and the brothers, bound by blood and choice, faced the unknown path that lay ahead.
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jasmines-library · 3 months
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Hiii!! Firstly, I love your writing and I hope you’re having a great day!! I was hoping to request a Winchester sibling fic where the reader is really comforted by physical touch but is really observant and receptive to the fact their brothers are emotionally constipated and touch starved so the reader has never really asked for it but then one day either just a bad day or bad hunt and the reader just asks the boys to hold them or one of them to sit in the back of the Impala with them? Thank you so so much and I hope you have a lovely day!! 🫶
So close, yet too far.
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⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Summary: You just really need a hug.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Touch Starved, character death mentioned, swearing
p.s. Sorry for the long wait! I've got exams at the moment so they're taking up a lot of my time.
⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Life as a hunter was never still. You were constantly moving. Constantly looking over your shoulder. Constantly chasing what could be your last day on earth. And you wouldn’t ever have said you regretted it. No. In fact, you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Hunting creatures and saving the world? It was all You couldn’t have imagined a better life…
But sometimes you found yourself wanting life to just slow down for a minute. It was so hectic and you just needed a breath. A hug. With such a busy life, there was no time for just spending quality time with your brothers. Or anyone for that matter. It was an endless cycle: Wake up. Research. Hunt. Drive. Sleep. There was no time for sitting on the couch and watching cheesy movies together. Nor was there any time for curling up together like you used to do when you were smaller. You found yourself yearning for it. For a hug or simply just a gentle arm around your shoulder. It used to bring you so much comfort. But times were tough with all that had happened recently. The three of you were even more on edge than ever before. 
Your brothers had always told you that you could ask them for anything. That you could tell them whatever you wanted… but this wasn’t just something you could ask them for. You had seen how they often shunned away from touch. From relationships. Having seen so much pain and having lost so many people…they struggled to allow themselves to let their guard down enough to enjoy a tender moment. Even with you. So no matter how much you yearned for it you could never bring yourself to push the want from your mind and into words. 
So when the hunt went worse than you could have imagined you kept quiet. 
Dean’s hand was right there; peeking out from the hem of his flannel. His fingers were bloody and calloused, scarred and covered in small cuts and yet his touch was still tender. You felt your own fingers itch to reach out and lace them between his. You wanted for him or Sam to wrap you up in their arms and hold you close. To squeeze your hand. Or a shoulder. But you knew that they had much more pressing matters to deal with that overshadowed “needy little sister”. 
You trailed behind them, dragging your feet ever so slightly to kick up the dirt and leave trails between the orange leaves. You did not look up at your brothers because you knew you would see Dean's set jaw and Sam’s pinched eyebrows as they too mourned the hunt. 
A small boy had been caught by a shtriga. He had been no older than 5 or 6 with these big, blue eyes that got impossibly wider as the creature stalked toward him. And his scream…it pierced through the air like a beam of light: clear as day yet providing no clarity. No safety like light should bring. Instead it was cold and filled with a gripping terror. 
The three of you had been too slow. No matter how hard you dragged your stubborn limbs you couldn’t get to him fast enough. So now you trudged along in silence. 
The sight of Baby did not, in fact, provide you with the relief you thought it would. Instead the gleaming of the bonnet against the moonlight just made your stomach churn. You knew that you would all try to bury the memory in a box, deep in the back of your mind. But it was never that easy. They tried hard, but you would hear them late at night. Dean hardly slept as he tried to drink his troubles away and Sam barely left his room. And then there was you who lay awake staring blankly at the ceiling as you wept softly, wrapping your arms around yourself to curl up in a ball. It didn’t bring the same comfort as theirs did, like it had done when you were small and naive when you crawled into their bed after a nightmare. When things weren’t so fucking complicated. 
Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you reached for the metal handle. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t sit in silence to be left with your own thoughts. You couldn’t be alone. Not right now. 
“Sammy…”  Your voice was quiet. Hushed. Barely a whisper pushed out on cracked lips that trembled. 
Sam paused, his hand halfway between where he had been picking at the hem of his jeans and the handle of the passenger door. He lifted his head, humming softly in acknowledgement. 
“Sit with me… Please.”
“Of course.” His face melted and he moved in one swift movement. 
He slid in the backseat, leaning against the door frame and stretching out across the seats. He pulled you in to lean against his side, wrapping his arms around you. You lay your head on his shoulder, snuggling into his side. And began to weep. 
“Kiddo?” Sam asked gently. “What’s up?” His hands traced small circles on your arm.
Dean reached over the back of the seat with a concerned look, though part of it could be easily mistaken for fear. “It’s not your fault, Sweetheart-” He started.
“Just…hold me. Please.” You clung onto Sam, your other hand reaching out to settle atop of Dean’s. Their touch was comforting, yet you couldn’t help the wavering as you wept. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 
And so they did. Sam nestled you further into his side, tucking your head beneath his chin and Dean clambered out of his seat to join the two of you in the back. He settled down on your other side, sandwiching you between the two of you. And they held you. They ran their fingers through your hair, held your hand and spoke to you. They held you tight and the three of you stayed close together, with no intention of moving any time soon.
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
SPN TAGS:
@defonotashleyr
@aestheticdaisies
@xxrougefangxx
@hell-o-kittys
@inlovewhithafairytale
@harleycao
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
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inlovewhithafairytale · 5 months
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POV: The Winchester's have a little sister
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rustys-lodge · 8 months
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Requested by anon : Can you write a spn fic of dad sam/dean where she texts her dad from her room about needing help because depression gets really bad and she wants to self harm? And dad just helps her ride the wave and comforts her. Thank you
Warnings : Depression, self harm
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And without a single warning, the door to your room flew open. And there he was, standing with that empathetic smile on his face.
You'd believe it if you couldn't clearly see the worry glistening in his eyes.
"Is this where my beauty needs help for her sleep ?"
Your lips quivered and a whimper left your lips, causing your dad's shoulders to slump.
Nice try. But the wound is too deep to close up with a simple joke. And the joke is not funny. But your dad got the memo, since he flew to your bed and sat himself beside you.
"Scooch" He commanded before bringing your upper half over his chest. So you layed diagonally on the bed, with your back up to his chest, giving him scape to wrap his arms completely around your neck.
You needed that. Badly. And when your whimpers got louder, your dad hugged you tighter.
"It's bad, dad..." You choked on a sob.
"I know...kid...i know" Your father planted a kiss on your head. And his hands let you go....discreetly traveling down your arms.
He was checking to see if you'd flinch...that would mean you did it again. And you know this move because you've been through this as well.
Him randomly touching your arms, squeezing from time to time to see if it hurts you. At first you pretended like it didn't. But at some point, you realized there's no need to pretend. He knows.
"I didn't do it." You informed him and a slight sigh of relief hit your ear.
"That's my girl." Another kiss fell on the back of your back of your head. "Give me those hands."
You complied and your dad criss-crossed your arms and set your hands on your opposite shoulders, before bringing his own arms over yours.
"I'm here now, kid."
And as weird and narrow as it may have seemed. You were wrapped in a loving embrace.
And although your drowning thoughts were not ceasing, warmth flooded your body and your muscles tensed down...you hadn't slept in a while. It's been hard..Really hard.
With his arms still wrapped around your chest, your dad sung to you, considerably low, guiding you to sleep.
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Sorry for the never-changing ending. It seems that comfy fics cannot end any other way. Anyways, hope this helps someone on a lonely night !! ❤️❤️❤️⚘️⚘️⚘️
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ellieslittleburrow · 2 months
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Coming home late..doesn't keep Dean okay.
Summery : You've been acting out, lately. Or at least that's what Sam and Dean called it. For you it was just having fun, living. That is until Dean couldn't take it anymore...
Warnings : a bit of a violent behaviour, stern brother
Pairings : Dean winchester x sister reader
A/n : AHA WHATS THAT TITLE. Also i'm sorry if this brings bad memories to any of you guys ❤️ Comments are much appreciated peeps 🌸
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"Lookie here"
A voice you have so carelessly gotten used to, tinted with a hint of disappointment and of passive aggressiveness. "Miss wild life has just come back from her adventures."
You sighed as your boots tiredly thump the metallic steps of the bunker and Dean emerged through the metallic columns.
"What?" You threw your arms out. "Am i not allowed to go out now? Should i ask for your permission for everything?" You spat out. Fucker really had to do this as soon as you came back home?
"No!" Dean rose from the chair and dangerously made his way to you. "You could've answered the phone one of the 10 times i called, though!" He sounded enthusiastic for a second. "Or maybe just gotten home on time." And then that enthusiasm shifted to disappointment. And after a few seconds of silence, he spoke again, his voice fatigued. "What are you doing, kid?"
It was a simple 4 worded question. But the answer to it requiered a few shrinks and lots of writing. You didn't know why you were acting this way, really. To you it was no big deal. Why do they want to force everything on you? Get home at this hour, wear this and not that, eat, don't talk to that person, don't haunt this and that...You were just done with all this attention to the little details that meant nothing to you...You just..wanted them to notice you, what you liked, your qualities, the fact that you knew well enough how to haunt. There was also the fact that...handling things on your own was no longer a possibility..The pain, the nightmares, the memories.
"I'm not doing anything, Dean. I just got home like-" You stop to look at your watch. "A fucking hour late. Boohoo, what a big fucking dea-"
"LILY."
You stop! Faltering for a tiny moment before quickly recovering, adrenaline pumping through your body.
"Don't raise your voic-"
You'd spoke but Dean interrupted you, closing the gap between you, sending you staggering backwards. But you still hold your head up high, chest puffed up and ready to fight...cleching your fists as your hands trembled.
"i don't think you understand, lily." Your brother wrapped his hand around your arm, looming over your -what felt like- tiny body. You held your gaze down. Are you still going to fight? Or are you going to apologize and move on?
"It's not because i let you loose that it's actually acceptable for you to behave this way. I understand that you're angry and that you're taking it out on me-"
"that's fucking stupi-"
Fight it is..
"it's not stupid, you're acting out like you're five."
"i swear to god and i promise you, if you ever do this again, lily, you're done. And not done the way you usually are. I promise you that if you do this ever again, i will make sure you never forget that day. "
You scoff and shrug, the perfect cocktail for Dean's eyes to go lower, darker. Angrier. But all that bitterness washed away... and he nodded, slowly.
"Okay then" He let go of your arm and you internally wished he didn't. It felt now like you'd rather he grounds you and yells, because that smile meant that whatever was coming, was going to be much worse.
"Since you're all grown up and ready to take care of yourelf, let me change it up for you."
Much worse indeed..
He stood up straight and you shrunk again. You didn't want this!!! This is not what you had in m-
"We've already got enough problems on our plate, you acting out, with your temper tantrums and your shit-" He shakes his hands. " i'm not having it."
You'd speak up...apologize..But you're too angry and terrified to even think. Let alone talk.
"You do this shit again, you're out. Capiche?"
You opened your mouth to speak but!- you're stunned. And a lump grew heavy in your throat as regret set in....
"And you watch your language, or else i promise you i'll smack your face so bad your jaw will hurt."
Your eyebrows stood up in surprise..Never has Dean EVER been this violent. And by the looks of it, he meant it. He meant all of it. Every single word. And you...you-
You burst into tears, choking as saliva pooled in your mouth. You've never felt such things and-and you don't get why he'd eve-
"I asked you a question, lily." He thundered but you were in no state that would get you to stop crying, anytime soon. Only an unintentional whimper escaped your lips. "Lily, i asked you a question." He demanded again, groaning higher.
You nod, hoping it would get him off you but...that only infuriorates him more. "ANSWER ME."
his tone turned more violent, piercing your ears and you nodded again. "Yeah. Yes-I I understand." Your lips trembling as your upper body leaned away from him.
Just then does he let go of your arm. "'Out of my face now, kid."
Without hesitation, you stepped aside, heading for your room.
You placed the back of your hand on your mouth, covering it before another wave of tears comes in.
You might've fucked up, badly this time, as Dean has never been this mean to you. And it just felt like....John and Sam all over again.
You had to do something about. But it could wait. Until Sam came back.
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Ola, yall! I love writing angst 😭😭😭 What do we think???? ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀
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Hey looking for a fanfic for supernatural, it’s a Dean x Sam x little sister. Base off the David Bowie “Hey little Sister”. Plot of the story is three are driving either back from or two a case, and long car rides cause some fun times to be had. Smut for sure. I can’t remember who the author is, been trying to find it for a while, any help would be great.
@fictionalabyss
@winchesterenthusiast @winchesterprincessbride @wincestislove @wincestplease @wincesthaikus @wincestbritin @plus-size-reader @plussizeappreciationfics
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wraithlafitte · 4 months
Text
you're no femme fatale
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pairing: dean winchester x f!reader
CONTENT: use of y/n, dubcon (mission sequence), soft dom!reader, guided masturbation, light degradation (m!receiving), stripping, begging, scratching, hair pulling, handjob, exhibitionism if you squint
word count: 3.3k
a/n: anon request here! enjoy 🖤 honestly felt like i was scraping the bottom of the barrel to keep this interesting LOL hope it's what you wanted
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"No. No way in hell I'm doing that," you said, throwing up your hands and backing away from the table, littered with piles of Sam's research.
"Aw, come on, Y/N," Sam protested. "You're the only one of us that could do it."
"I am not entertaining some dirty old man for this," you snapped, snatching up a museum scan of the artifact you were supposed to steal. "We'll find another way."
"If there was another way, I'd be asking you to do that," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "This is the path of least resistance. You get in his office, slip it into your dress while he's not looking, and we'll come get you after ten minutes. That's it."
You huffed a sigh and crossed your arms.
Just then, Dean returned from his fast food run, greasy paper bags in hand. "Hey, nerds," he greeted impishly. "Grub's on."
You rolled your eyes as he plopped the bags right in the middle of Sam's papers.
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Dean asked, settling himself into a chair and unwrapping a double cheeseburger.
"You would know if you had stayed to help make it," you replied annoyedly.
Dean flicked his eyebrows. "No need to get testy."
Sam sighed, deciding to intervene before things got ugly. You and Dean weren't exactly known for getting along, tolerating each other just enough to get jobs done when you had to. This was mostly due to the fact that you thought Dean was a douchebag, and he just dished back whatever you threw at him.
"The best plan we've got so far is that Y/N seduces the guy," Sam explained.
Dean snorted, almost spitting out his too-large bite of burger. "I'm sorry what?"
"I figure we'll never be able to get in there during the event, since it'll be so locked down," Sam continued. "Our best bet is getting him to let one of us in."
"Have you seen her?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a once-over. "Not exactly the seducing type."
You looked down at your current outfit. Cargo pants and a mens t-shirt topped with a utility vest and a leather bomber jacket. He had a point, although not for the reasons he thought. You could dress up, you just chose to dress practically. More pockets for knives. No, you just weren't sure you'd be able to convince the man you wanted him. Seventy-something sleazebags weren't exactly high on your to-fuck list.
"For once, I agree with Dean." You tossed the photo back onto the table. "Can we think of something else, please?"
"Yeah, as much as I'd like to see her try and pretty up to get in some old dude's pants, there's gotta be a more surefire way," Dean said with his mouth full. "Cuz you're no femme fatale," he added pointedly.
You were getting a little annoyed at his jabs. "You don't think I can do it?" you asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
"Sister, I don't think you could seduce a virgin," Dean scoffed.
You turned to Sam, bristling. "That's it then. I'll do it."
"What?" Dean said loudly through his half-chewed bite.
Sam looked at you with concern. "Are you sure? Just because Dean-"
"I'm sure." You set your jaw confidently. "Let's go to the charity event."
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"We're heading out to the car," Sam called through the bathroom door, where you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup.
"Be right there," you called back, surveying yourself in the mirror. Not bad, you thought, considering the last time you put on this much makeup was prom night. You had tried to go for something an old man would like: a classic red lip and smoky eye that paired pretty well with the vintage-looking slinky black satin dress you'd found at the thrift store around the corner. It went down to your ankles, showing off your heels, and had a long slit that made its way up your leg to your hip.
You threw your coat on and hurried out the door, hopping into the backseat of the Impala. Sam glanced at you in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows appreciatively, but Dean didn't spare you a second glance. You were annoyed, since half the reason you were doing this was to prove him wrong, but there would be plenty of time to show off later.
As the Impala peeled out of the hotel parking lot, you took a deep swig from the flask you kept in your coat pocket. This better work.
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Neither of the boys helped you out of the car when you arrived.
"Chivalry is dead," you announced after almost stumbling onto your face getting out. You tossed your coat back into the backseat, revealing your outfit to the two hunters.
Suddenly Sam was all-too-eager to offer you his arm, and the two of you headed inside, Dean close behind. You hadn't missed the way his eyes widened when you dropped your coat, so you swung your hips a little as you walked. That'll show him.
The plan worked better than you could have hoped. The sleazy old something-inaire led you to his office, hand wrapped around your waist as you clung to his arm, pretending to laugh at his stupid sexist old man jokes.
As he clicked the heavy oak door shut, you quickly scanned the room, trying to find the artifact you came for. There. On his desk. All you had to do was grab it, and-
The old man grabbed you by the hips, pulling you flush against his body. "Where were we, sweetheart?"
Insides roiling with disgust, you turned around and placed your hands on his chest, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. "Right here," you said cattily, batting your eyelashes as you grabbed him by the lapels and led him backwards to the desk.
Here goes nothing, you thought, and pulled the old guy in for a kiss. Trying to ignore the way his tongue dug into your mouth, you felt around behind you for the artifact.
Got it. You quickly palmed the object and broke the kiss, looking up at the old man through your lashes. Now Sam or Dean was gonna bust down the door, claiming you as his missing drunk sister.
Aaaaany minute now.
The old man smiled wolfishly and you felt his hands creeping lower, lower, until he grabbed your ass firmly, jerking you closer to him and capturing your lips again.
Your heart hammered in your chest. This was not going how it was supposed to. You tried to wiggle away, but the guy was surprisingly strong for his age.
"Where you going, baby?" he asked, eyes glinting.
"I think I- I have to go," you said, aware that you were sounding a little panicked.
"You wanted this," he reminded you, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He swung you around and pushed you into the leather couch across from the desk. You tried to scramble up, but it was hard with your tight dress and the artifact still clutched in your hand, desperately being concealed, so the old man grabbed you easily by the hair, forcing you to stay down.
"Now why don't we put those pretty lips to use?"
The door swung open with a bang. The old man looked up, startled, releasing his death grip on your hair.
"There you are," came the fake-laughing voice of Dean.
"Who are you?" demanded the old man. "Get out of here!"
"Sorry man, this is my sister," Dean said, raising his hands apologetically. "She gets really hammered, acts like a slut. Gotta get her home." He helped you up, and you smiled and giggled, putting on the drunk-girl act.
Dean helped you hurry out of the room, the old man looking disappointed and angry at being cockblocked.
"Thanks," you whispered once you were down the hall and out of earshot. "What a creep."
"Please tell me you got it," Dean said darkly, weaving you through the crowd. You slipped the artifact into his suit pocket, giving it a pat for good measure.
"Didn't do that for nothing." You winked at him and pushed him away to walk the rest of the way to the car on your own two feet.
Dean stared after you, dumbfounded. He tried not to fixate on the way your hips swayed in that dress as you walked away proudly. God, that dress! It hugged your body perfectly, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been eyeing you all night. His cock was semi-hard in his dress pants, an annoying reminder of just how much you'd proved him wrong.
"Come on, dickhead," you yelled out the back window of the Impala. Dean realized starkly that he had stopped in place thinking about your tits.
"Dammit," he muttered, hurrying around to the driver's seat.
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The three of you piled into your hotel room to debrief from the mission. You assured the boys that you were alright from your creepy encounter with the old guy, and that stealing the artifact was worth it. The way Dean watched you raptly as you began to disrobe was not lost on you.
"I've dealt with worse in my time," you reminded them, shaking out your hair. "I'm a solo female hunter. Sleazy men hit on me literally wherever I go." You plopped down on the bed and pulled your stockings off one by one.
"As long as you're sure," Sam said, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna head back over to our room to get some sleep. You coming, Dean?"
Dean snapped out of his fantasy. "Uh, no. I'll be there in a little bit. Gotta talk to her about something."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Just don't bite each other's head off." And with that, he was gone.
You watched Dean from the shadows of the half-lit room. When he made no move to say anything, you did. "What do you need to talk about?" you asked, knowing full well. "Gonna say sorry cuz of how wrong you were?"
Dean flicked his eyes up to yours. Where had he been looking before?
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. You did good."
You stood and sauntered over to where he sat in a straight-backed chair by the dresser. "But that's not all, is it?" You smirked at him and looked him up and down, gaze lingering on his crotch, where a tent had begun to form.
Dean covered his bulge with his hand and pressed down, growling. "You were a little too good."
"So, what? You stayed because you want me to help with that?" you teased, coming closer.
"Yeah," Dean said roughly, standing quickly.
"No," you said bluntly, taking him by the shoulder and pushing him back into the chair.
Dean grimaced. "Why? Please," he begged, face twisted in arousal.
You giggled. "Wow."
"What?" Dean snapped, eyes cracking open.
"Nothing," you said, smirking. "You could beg a little more, might help." You felt your own arousal start to pool in your panties.
"Please, Y/N." Dean looked up at you with wild eyes, squeezing his cock through his pants.
"Please what?" You cocked your head.
"Please... make me cum," he said finally, eyes dropping to your midriff, unwilling to hold your gaze.
You tilted his chin up so he would look at you again, feeling a certain sense of satisfaction that you had somehow reduced him to this begging, horny mess in the chair before you.
"All you had to do was ask," you said softly. You backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Dean started to get up and follow you.
"No," you said, holding up a red-manicured finger. "Sit back down." You pointed.
Dean frowned but did as he was told. You smiled, delighted.
"You're having way too much fun with this," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry what was that?" you asked with a stern expression. "Do you want to cum or not?"
Dean's dick twitched in his pants. The way you bossed him around was really turning him on. "Nothing."
"That's what I thought." You twirled your hair thoughtfully. Dean whined impatiently.
"Tsk, tsk." You crossed your legs at an angle where he could almost see through the slit into your crotch. "Take your cock out."
Dean was all too happy to oblige, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants faster than you could say desperate, hiking up his dress shirt in the process.
"Wait," you interrupted before he could go any further. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt, too. Wouldn't want to make a mess." You smirked.
"Okay," Dean agreed breathily, practically tearing the two sides of the shirt from each other, exposing his muscular torso. You had seen him shirtless before, but there was something about the way he was breathing, stomach rising and falling quickly as he panted, that turned you on when it wouldn't normally.
"Now you can take your dick out," you said. You held your breath a little as his cock came into view. He was fully hard now, and dripping. He squeezed the base, moaning.
"Now what?" he asked, eyes shut as he lightly stroked his cock with his fingertips.
"You need me to tell you how to jack off?" you asked meanly. To your surprise, Dean moaned loudly at that.
He began stroking his cock, slowly at first, building up speed as he could no longer contain himself. A near-constant string of quiet whimpers and moans fell from his lips. You took note of the way he swiped his thumb over his leaking slit, spreading it around to aid his fingers.
"Look at me," you instructed. You wanted to see that wild look in his eyes again, and were instantly rewarded as his eyes flew open to meet yours. His mouth fell open as he gasped when he saw you.
"Forget I was here?" you teased. Dean gulped and shook his head vehemently. His hand slowed, and he started tugging himself less frantically, holding eye contact with you intensely.
"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "You're so hot, wanna see you."
You smirked. "Only because you admitted it." You hiked up your skirt, spreading the slit open so he could see your black lace panties.
Dean devoured your skin with his eyes, rubbing the head of his cock in circles with his thumb.
You dropped the straps of your dress so that they hung loosely around your shoulders and ran your long nails across your collarbones, petting your shoulders. Then you took hold of the neckline and pulled it down, freeing your tits from the dress.
"Better than I imagined, baby," Dean groaned at the sight, as his hips bucked into his hand.
You took one of your breasts in your hand, squeezing it towards your chest. "You imagined?" you lilted, smiling.
"Been thinkin' about you all night," he admitted shamelessly. "How good your tits looked in that dress. How good- ngh- you looked walkin' away from me."
Your other hand started creeping into your skirt. "Thought I couldn't even seduce a virgin. What does that make you?"
Dean growled, jerking his cock faster. "I don't- fuck-"
"Maybe you're just a manwhore," you purred, hopping off the bed to approach him.
"Please," Dean gasped, tossing his head back. "I need you."
You scoffed. "I'm not that lacking in self-respect." You lightly scratched your fingernails down the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, groaning, hand stilling.
You leaned in to murmur in his ear. "No, you're gonna take care of this all... by... yourself." You laced your fingers into his short hair, scratching his scalp, and pulled his head back. He relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling.
"So take care of it," you remind him harshly, giving his hair a hard tug before letting go. Dean raised his head hazily and began to stroke his dick again, gasping. It was angry red, practically begging for release, but Dean seemed determined to tease himself until he couldn't take it anymore, which you suspected would be soon.
You turned your back to him and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a silken puddle. You heard Dean moan softly, sound of skin rubbing skin growing faster. You smiled to yourself as an idea occurred to you.
Against a backdrop of street lamplight coming through the window and lewd noises coming from Dean, you padded barefoot wearing only your underwear to the other side of the bed, where your pajamas lay folded neatly on the nightstand. You unfolded them and spread them out on the bed.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked hoarsely. "Don't- please stay- I need to see you," he whimpered finally.
You ignored him, as you had been planning to do, and put your pajamas on dramatically slowly to the soundtrack of Dean begging you to stop, stay naked, help him.
You turned back to him when you were finished and a rush of arousal hit you at the sight: Dean, cock in hand, sitting exactly where you had left him, sweaty and gasping and looking at you with a wild, desperate expression. You moaned softly in spite of yourself.
"Poor baby," you pout, rounding the bed to sit next to him again. "Haven't you come yet?"
Dean's hand was working overtime, forearm muscles flexing and rippling beneath his skin where his sleeve was rolled up.
"Can't," he breathed.
"You can't come?" You feigned surprise, even though you had known for several minutes that he was probably going to wait for your permission.
"Need you," Dean panted. "Can't do it- mm- without you."
"Sure you can," you said, running your nails down his chest. He shivered intensely.
Dean whimpered, face contorting in frustration. "I can't."
"What, I got you so turned on you can't even jack off without me?" you tease, fingertips stopping right above his happy trail.
"Please touch me."
"I am touching you," you reply smoothly, digging your fingers into his stomach.
Dean rolled his eyes, although you weren't sure if it was sass or pleasure. "Please," he insisted, whining.
"Useless." You replaced his hand with yours, gripping his cock tightly as you stroked it for him. "Can't even make yourself come without my help."
Dean went slack-jawed, head falling back once more. "Uh-huh," he moaned breathily. He ground his hips upwards, trying to find more pressure or friction or something but getting nothing but what you gave him.
"You're a useless whore, right?" you taunted. He would tell you if you went too far, right?
"Yes," Dean groaned loudly. You almost clapped your hand over his mouth, certain that Sam could hear through the walls.
"Shhh, be quiet baby," you said instead. You swiped your thumb over the head of his dick and he hissed, biting his lip. Your other hand went down to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze.
Suddenly Dean's whole body tensed and his eyes flew open. "Shit- I'm so close, please," he panted. His abs flexed, indicating that he was telling the truth.
You increased the pressure on both hands slightly. "Go on then."
Dean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled gasp and a groan as he came, spurting over his stomach and your hands. You kept pumping, using his cum to aid your efforts, until he was begging you to stop between gasping breaths. Only then did you let go of him, admiring your handiwork.
One Dean Winchester (formerly unbelieving of your sexual prowess), spread over a chair, covered in cum, sweaty and panting and utterly fucked out.
"Thank you," he whispered weakly after a moment.
"Will you ever doubt me again?" you asked, smirking.
He rolled his head to the side to look at you. "No. Fuck, that was hot." Dean grinned. "Actually, I changed my mind. Maybe I should doubt you more often."
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, Winchester. Clean up and go to bed."
Dean got out of the chair stiffly, winked at you, and went to do as he was told.
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dividers by @cafekitsune and @saradika
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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months
Text
Hook Man | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of religious trauma/parental abuse
Word Count: 4869
A/N: Guys. We hit a bit of a milestone earlier in the week. Just wanted to say in celebration that I am so beyond grateful for all of your love and support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Giving big big kisses to all of you!!! Taglist is open!!
Edit: Hey.... I suck I forgot to add the taglist when I published. So sorry!!! fixed now!!!!
Series Rewrite Masterlist
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You and Dean were sat at an outdoor cafe; coffee cups in hand. He was clacking away at his laptop while you wrote in your journal. You wrote your excerpt on the shapeshifter next to a drawing of Dean’s necklace. 
“Is that…?” Dean asked, pointing to your journal.
You nodded. 
“I didn’t know you could draw,” he said.
“No offense, lovebug, but you don’t know much of anything about me,” you retorted.
He scoffed. “Will you take the compliment and be quiet?”
“I didn’t hear a compliment,” you giggled. “Well, maybe in ‘Dean Winchester Land’ it was a compliment.”
“Oh, shut up,” he responded playfully. 
Sam hung up the payphone he was standing in and came back over to your table.
“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis,” Dean jabbed at his brother.
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” you told him.
“So, anything?” Dean asked Sam.
Sam huffed. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”
“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”
Sam looked disappointed.
“Check this out.” Dean turned his laptop around to you and Sam. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”
“Thank god, a short trip,” you sighed. 
“ ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road,’ “ Sam read from the article.
“Keep reading.” Dean nodded at his laptop.
“ ‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.’ “
That last line caught your attention. “Could be something interesting.”
“Or it could be nothing at all,” Sam protested. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”
“But what if it is? Dad would check it out,” Dean responded.
***
The one hundred mile drive concluded with the boys dropping you off at a sorority house. 
“Remind me why I have to play barbies for the week again?” you asked.
“Because this is Lori Sorensen’s sorority house; the witness from the killing,” Sam replied.
“Great,” you mumbled.
“Have fun making s’mores and singing campfire songs,” Dean remarked.
“Bite me,” you snarked. “You’re going to a frat, though, Steve McQueen, so I wouldn’t be so cocky.” 
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he grumbled. 
“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said and shouldered your duffel bag. You bid them goodbye and reluctantly marched up to the door of the sorority house.
A girl with long, dark curls opened the door. “Hi,” she said. “Can I… help you?”
“Yeah, I’m (Y/N),” you explained. “I’m your sorority sister from Ohio State. Do you guys have an extra bed I could sleep in? I just transferred here.”
“Sure,” she grinned. “I’m Taylor, by the way.” 
“Nice to meet you.” 
She led you inside and introduced you to Lori Sorensen. She was a sweet girl; very naive and a little stuck-up. Taylor seemed a little more like a party girl, but still relatively tame. You decided you could gel with these girls for the time being. 
They told you they were headed to Sunday service at Lori’s father’s church and invited you to go with them. You obliged.
In the middle of the introductory rites, you heard the heavy church door slam shut. Your head swiveled to find Sam and Dean frozen and looking guilty. You scoffed amusedly and rolled your eyes, turning your attention forward for the rest of the service. 
Taylor invited you and Lori out to a party after the service, but Lori said she couldn’t. Her father had dinner with her every Sunday since her mother passed away. She and Taylor hugged and Taylor bid you goodbye before heading off.
Sam and Dean came over to you and Lori.
“Guys!” you said excitedly. “Sam, Dean, this is Lori.” You introduced her to them. “They’re my friends from Ohio. They transferred with me.” 
“I saw you inside,” she told them.
“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…”
Dean cut his brother off. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”
You knew where this was going; he was cruising for another hookup.
“I kind of know what you’re going through,” Sam broke back in. “I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”
Lori nodded slightly. Just then, her father came up to your group.
“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). They’re new students.”
Dean shook the reverend’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”
“Thank you very much,” he smiled. “It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” 
“Yes, sir,” you replied and began leading him away from Sam and Lori. “Actually, we’re looking for a new church group…”
***
Later that day, you and the boys were sitting together in the local library. Sam relayed to you what Lori had told him about the passing of the guy she was with.
“So, you believe her?” Dean asked him.
“I do,” he nodded.
“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smirked at him. 
“You think almost everything with a vagina and legs is hot, Dean,” you remarked.
“Not you,” he jabbed back, still smirking.
You clutched a hand to your chest. “I’m hurt, you dick.”
He rolled his eyes at you.
“Can we focus, please?” Sam broke in. “There’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”
“Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—”
 Sam cut you off. “Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.” 
“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever,” Dean added. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”
“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began,” said Sam.
“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”
“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?” 
You had the librarian bring over boxes of arrest records. The three of you poured through pages upon pages for hours. 
“Hey, check this out. 1862,” Sam said finally. “A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’ “
“Get this, the murder weapon?” Dean was looking at another page. “Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.” 
You pointed to a page in Sam’s book. “Look where all this happened. Nine Mile Road.”
“Same place where the frat boy was killed,” Sam chimed in. 
“Nice job, Dr. Venkamen and Annie Potts. Let’s check it out,” the older brother quipped.
The three of you headed to Nine Mile Road. Dean parked off the road in a clearing in the woods. He popped the trunk and handed Sam a shotgun. “Here you go.”
“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said.
“Yeah, rock salt. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean led the three of you through the clearing. 
“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?” 
“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”
“Cool it, Winchester. You and your daddy aren’t the first people to think of rock salt bullets.” You loaded your own gun with shells of your own.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“They’re a bitch to roll,” you said.
“Oh, one hundred percent,” he remarked. 
You suddenly heard rustling in the bushes.
“Over there,” you whispered to Sam. The two of you aimed your guns and cocked it. 
The “ghost” came out from behind the trees. A sheriff. 
‘Dammit.’
“Put the gun down now!” he yelled. “Now! Put your hands behind your head.”
“Wait, wait, okay!” Dean told him. 
You immediately dropped your gun and put your hands up.
“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”
You three obeyed.
“Now get down on your bellies,” he commanded. “Come on, do it!”
“Are you just on a power trip or something? ‘Cause— ah!” you were cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Sam. 
The sheriff brought the three of you into the station. It was early the next morning by the time you were able to leave.
“Saved your asses!” Dean jeered. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I am Matlock.”
“How was it that you were left in charge of talking him down?” You raised a brow at him. “And how in the fuck did you do it?”
“Sweetheart, this may surprise you, but I’m good at my job. And I told him Sam was a dumbass pledge, you were his girlfriend we’d dragged along, and we were hazing you.”
You and Sam both recoiled at the idea of dating each other.
“First of all, ew,” you started, “No offense, Sam.”
“None taken.”
“But what about the shotguns?”
“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”
“And he believed you?” you asked incredulously.
“Well, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge.”
“Can’t argue with that.” You stuck your tongue out at Sam.
Moments later, several officers ran out of the building to their cruisers. Barely needing to share a look with the boys, you hurried into the car and sped away to follow them.
You could see Lori wrapped in a disposable blanket in front of the sorority house you were staying in. You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you had no doubt that it was another murder. The stretcher carrying a body bag rolling out of the front door affirmed that thought seconds later.
Dean parked the Impala around the back of the house. 
“Why would the Hook Man come here?” Sam asked as the three of you crept around the building. “This is a long way from Nine Mile Road.”
“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested. 
You pulled his arm back seconds later to avoid being seen by your “sorority sisters.” You used the fact that you had now pretty much pulled yourself in front of him to allow you to lead the way up to the second floor. 
While Dean made a stupid joke about a naked pillow fight, Sam was busy giving you a boost before climbing up himself. You looked back down at the ground to see Dean struggling to find his footing.
“Need help?” you smirked.
“No,” he grumbled.
“I think you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
You waited patiently, leaning your head in your hands on the railing of the balcony and smiling down at him. He struggled for a few more moments before he conceded. All he did was open and close his hand he was extending upwards, similar to a toddler asking to be picked up.
“What’s the magic word?” you sing-songed.
“Come on!” he hissed. “Please?”
“There we go,” you smiled. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled him up.
You then realized the window you were entering was the one in Lori and Taylor’s closet. You hoped to god in that moment that Taylor wasn’t the one dead.
Your fears were realized, however, when you entered Lori and Taylor’s room to find the words “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?” crudely etched into the wall above Taylor’s blood soaked bed. You didn’t exactly get attached to people on hunts, but seeing good people die was never easy for you. It didn’t get easier. Your dad would call you soft, but you always liked to look at your compassion as a strength.
“ ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ That’s right out of the legend,” Sam whispered.
“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean tapped his nose as he spoke. “It’s definitely a spirit.”
“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before,” Sam muttered.
“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked you. 
You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. Fine. It’s just… look at this symbol.” You were referencing the one beneath the writing. “Does that look familiar to you?”
Your head jerked toward the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly shooed Sam and Dean back into the closet and out of the house. Thankfully, you made it back to the car without being seen. You pulled the copy you’d made at the library of one of the pages on Jacob Karns out of the backseat. That was where you had seen the cross symbol; on Karns’s hook. 
You showed it to the boys. “Told ya.”
“Alright, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,” Dean said.
Sam took the page from your hand. “ ‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.’ “ He flicked the page with his finger, looking aggravated; as were you and Dean.
“Super,” the older brother muttered.
“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why,” Sam pointed out.
“I could just be spitballing here, but Lori definitely has something to do with it,” you said, looking up at the sorority house.
***
You managed to get into a party at the fraternity house Sam and Dean were staying in later that night. Dean had been busy mingling with thin college girls dressed in mini skirts while Sam stuck to the outside wall. You bounced around from talking to Sam and hustling some of the drunk frat guys in multiple rounds of pool.
The three of you reunited around the pool table you’d been dominating that night.
“Man, you’ve been holding out on me,” Dean told Sam. “This college thing is awesome!” He smiled and winked at a passing girl.
Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “This wasn’t really my experience.”
“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?”
Sam nodded. You chortled.
“What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?” 
“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam unfolded a piece of paper. 
“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read.
Your eyebrows knitted together.
“There’s a pattern here,” Sam explained. “In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out— get this— with a sharp instrument.”
“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asked.
“Her dad. Man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” you pointed out. “Maybe this time, though, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his kid.”
“Reverend Sorensen,” Dean tsked. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”
“Maybe it’s like when a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place,” you suggested.
“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”
“Without the reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam chimed in.
“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean told his brother.
“What about you?” 
Dean looked over to the opposite side of the pool table where the blonde you’d been playing with smiled at him. He reluctantly said, “(Y/N) and I are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.” 
“We are? I wanted to play more eight-ball,” you told him. 
He looked back over at the blonde, back at you, and shook his head in disappointment. “C’mon. I’m not happy about it either.”
***
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back?” you asked Dean as the two of you trudged through the Old North Cemetery. You were holding shovels and flashlights searching for the grave of Jacob Karns.
He shot you a look.
“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” you laughed. “But seriously. Now that we’re… acquaintances, we should go out to a bar sometime. Preferably one with a pool table.”
“That’d be cool, actually,” he said, smirking at you. “You’re pretty good.”
“What, at pool?”
He nodded. “I could probably still kick your ass, though.”
“You’re on, pretty boy.”
He stopped and turned to you. “Don’t objectify me.”
“What?” you asked, stopping next to him. “You know you’re gorgeous. You frequently use it to your advantage.” You marched on.
You smiled when you heard him mutter, “You are so confusing, woman.”
You walked for a few more minutes before your flashlight landed on a grave marked with that cross symbol from Taylor’s room. “Jackpot.”
You and Dean set to work exhuming Jacob’s corpse. Your back and shoulders ached more and more the deeper you dug. “How fucking far down is six feet?” you remarked breathlessly. 
“I don’t know, but next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” he replied.
“Aw, you don’t wanna spend quality time with this cute girl?” you asked playfully. 
He eyed you strangely with a lopsided smile. 
“What?” you asked.
“Nothing. You’re just funny,” he told you.
You smiled back and got back to digging. Your shovel finally hit the wooden box lying below. You broke through it to reveal his corpse. Or at least, what remained of it. 
“Hello, preacher,” Dean said. He threw his shovel aside and helped you out of the hole you had dug. After he had climbed out, you poured salt and lighter fluid all over the bones. 
“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean threw a match down into the grave.
Your nose twisted up in disgust. “I will never get used to that smell.”
“What, burnt, hundred-year-old preacher? Me neither.”
You and Dean packed up and headed back to the car that was parked in the cemetery’s parking lot. Your body was exhausted. 
“Um, weird question,” you started. 
He turned to you and threw his shovel and duffel bag in the trunk. 
“You think we could sleep in your car for a bit? I’m running on two days of no sleep.”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It should all be over now and Sam should be layin’ it down with Lori.”
And so, you did. You stretched out over the backseat, and Dean laid down on the front. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, and strangely, you no longer felt tired. You supposed it was the strangeness of the situation. You were now sharing a somewhat intimate moment with a man you despised just weeks prior. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship with Dean was heading, and that bothered you a bit.
“Dean?”
“Hm.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, (Y/N).”
***
Four hours of shut-eye later, you felt recharged. You awoke to the sound of Dean’s phone vibrating over which Sam told you to meet him at a hospital.
“Hospital? Why? Is he okay?” you asked Dean, climbing over the front seat to sit shotgun. 
“I think so, but he said the reverend’s hurt.”
About fifteen minutes later, you were walking down a long corridor only to be stopped by two cops in wide-brimmed hats. 
The sheriffs put a hand to Dean’s chest to stop him.
“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s my brother,” he explained. “Hey! Brother!” he called, waving dorkishly at Sam.  
“Let them through.”
“Thanks.” 
You and Dean began walking toward Sam, who met you in the middle.
“You okay?” Dean asked. 
“Yeah,” sighed Sam.
“What the hell happened?” 
“Hook Man.”
You looked incredulous. “You saw him?”
“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam responded.
“We did,” you rebutted, confused. “You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”
“It sure as hell looked like him,” Sam returned. “And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”
“Well, duh, he wouldn’t send Hook Man after himself,” you remarked.
“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” He whispered that last part.
“Damn.” You gritted your teeth. “I could see how that could upset her.”
Sam nodded. “She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”
“Ok, so she’s conflicted,” Dean chimed in. “And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?”
“Right,” the younger brother nodded. “Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.”
“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean muttered. “But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?”
“We must’ve missed something,” you said. 
“No, we burned everything in that coffin.”
“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked the two of you.
Realization struck you. “Fuck,” you grumbled. “No.”
“Why does that matter?” Dean asked.
“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,” Sam told him.
“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.”
“So if we find the hook—”
The three of you finished Sam’s sentence in unison, grinning. “We stop the Hook Man.”
“Well, back to the drawing board,” you said as the three of you began walking away from the reverend’s hospital room.
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
“Do you know where the hook is?” you raised your eyebrows at him. 
He said nothing.
“Exactly,” you giggled.
***
Your next stop was the library for the second time this hunt. As much as you liked to read, obnoxious amounts of research was not your thing. Finally, you thought you’d found something. “Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary. ‘Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.’ “
“Does it mention the hook?” Sam asked you.
“I don’t know. ‘Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church,’ “ you read aloud. “That’s where Lori’s dad preaches.”
“Where Lori lives, too?” Sam asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.
“Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past two hundred years,” Dean added.
“Yeah, but I think someone would’ve noticed a blood-stained, silver-handled hook hangin’ around the church or Lori’s house.”
Dean pulled out another book and slapped it down in front of you. “Check the church records.”
Sam pulled the book to sit between the two of you. You and he flipped through pages upon pages of records before he found something. “ ‘St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.’ “ He sighed. “They melted it down. Made it into something else.”
“Goddammit,” you grumbled. 
Later that night, you and the boys returned to St. Barnabas Church. Dean shouldered a duffel bag and began leading you to the church. Sam followed close behind.
“Alright, we can’t take any chances,” the older brother began. “Anything silver goes in the fire.”
“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam added.
“Okay, take your pick,” you told him.
“I’ll take the house,” Sam responded.
“Dean and I will take the church, then.”
“We will?” the older brother asked.
“Yup.”
You led Dean up to the church. He called back to his brother. “Hey. Stay out of her underwear drawer.”
You could hear the smirk in his voice and giggled.
You took the top floor of the church while Dean scoured the basement. The two of you, along with Sam, met up in the furnace room. 
“I got everything that even looked silver,” Sam told you.
“Better safe than sorry,” Dean said. 
Your head turned upward at the sound of footsteps. You could hear Dean taking his gun from his jacket as you grabbed yours.
“Move, move,” Dean told you quietly.
You crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. When you got back to the ground floor, you could see Lori hunched over, her shoulders shaking. You lowered your gun and lightly pushed Sam forward. He shot you a look, but headed over to Lori anyway. You and Dean went back downstairs to continue melting the silver. 
“I feel for her,” you said quietly. “I know how much religion can fuck you up.” Silver clanked against the coals in the furnace as you spoke.
Dean turned his head to you. “You do?”
You nodded. “I’ve watched so many people go through crisis after crisis when their loved ones end up dead.”
“Me too,” he said earnestly. “Probably why I don’t pray.”
“Well, it’s a little difficult to believe in a higher power when all day, everyday is blood, guts, and monsters,” you remarked.
He chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve met one religious hunter.”
“I have,” you said. “My mom.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She was somehow still convinced of ‘God’s plan.’ “
“Catholic?”
“Oh, very.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied playfully.
“Yeah, me too,” you smiled. “My dad wasn’t, but, uh, he had his… other issues.”
Before he could ask further questions, you heard commotion upstairs. It sounded like running heading toward the opposite side of the basement.
“C’mon,” Dean urged, sprinting out of the furnace room with his gun in hand. You followed closely behind. You could hear the breaking of boards and slamming of what you assumed were bodies that practically shook the walls that got louder as you got closer. Sam was maneuvering himself behind the Hook Man’s clunkily-moving apparition. 
Dean gruffly called to his brother, “Sam, drop!”
His brother obeyed and Dean shot the Hook Man, who disappeared.
“I thought we got all the silver,” you said.
“So did I,” the older brother answered.
“Then why is he still here?” Sam’s voice was frantic.
“Well, maybe we missed something!”
You looked around and noticed Lori’s cross necklace. “Lori, where did you get that chain?”
“My father gave it to me,” she responded nervously.
“Where’d your dad get it?” Sam asked.
“He said it was a church heirloom,” she answered quickly. “He gave it to me when I started school.”
“Is it silver?!”
“Yes!”
Sam ripped the chain off her and threw it to you. You caught it with ease and went to start running back down the hall when the invisible Hook Man started dragging his hook along the wall.  
You threw Sam your gun and started running down another corridor you hoped would bring you to the same destination. You could vaguely hear Dean say to his brother, “I’ll cover (Y/N), shoot anything that moves!” before you heard approaching quick footsteps behind you.
You sprinted down winding hallways and thankfully quickly made it to the furnace room. You threw the necklace into the fire and watched as it slowly began to melt. “C’mon, c’mon,” you muttered anxiously. It took longer than you would’ve liked, but the cross broke off the necklace and burned into ash. As soon as it did, you and Dean ran back to the latter’s brother to make sure the ghost was gone. Thankfully, he had, but Sam seemed injured. He was clutching his left shoulder and wincing. 
You called the police to the scene and urged them to send an ambulance. They arrived in no time, and Sam was able to get his injury patched up. 
“And you saw him, too?” A sheriff was asking you and writing in a notepad. “The man with the hook?”
“Yeah, we all saw him,” you responded. “We fought him off and then he ran.”
“And that’s all?” The sheriff was skeptical.
“Yes, sir.”
“Listen. You and those two boys—”
Dean came up behind you and answered for you. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.”
You laughed at his response. Sam and Lori talking near the ambulance caught your eye. You continued watching them in the rearview mirror once you’d gotten in the backseat of the car. Sam soon left Lori, who looked after him sadly, and stooped down into the car. 
“We could stay,” Dean suggested. 
You could tell Sam wanted to, but he shook his head. A deflated air had settled over the car, but you knew the younger Winchester wasn’t ready for anything yet. He’d been dating Jessica for a year and a half and had just lost her less than four months ago. You knew he needed more time. The best way you knew to comfort him was to wrap your hands around his shoulders gently, minding his injury, from your place in the backseat. He tensed for a moment, but allowed you to hug him nonetheless. He responded by holding your arm with his good hand. And for a moment, if you closed your eyes, it was almost like hugging Steven again. 
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 1 month
Text
Just Keep Breathing
Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, Castiel & Winchester!reader, Rowena & Winchester!reader
Requested by Anonymous (x2)
Synopsis: You get sick from a mysterious illness, and you just can’t seem to get better.
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“Finally!”
Dean’s voice was the first you heard as you stumbled into the bunker after an insanely long school day. You were somehow sweating and freezing at the same time, and it felt like you might collapse any second.
“Grab a book, there’s a ton of lore to go through,” Dean continued. “We’re looking for more info on witches, seems like there might be…” Dean’s voice trailed off when he looked up to see you all but slumping down the stairs. “Hey kid, you ok?”
“Mm-hmm,” you huffed in response as your backpack dropped to the floor—had you done that? You didn’t remember making the decision to take it off, it seemed to just fall off your slumped shoulders on its own.
“Ok, commere.” You blinked and there was Dean, his hand lifting to your forehead and his brow drawn in concern. “Jeez, you’re burning up.”
At Dean’s words, Sam looked up.
“She’s sick?” He asked.
“Yeah.” Dean removed his hand and lowered himself to one knee to look at your downturned, unfocused gaze. “Sweetheart, look at me.”
You tried to focus on Dean’s eyes, but your gaze refused to settle.
“Yeah ok,” Dean sighed. “Let’s get you to bed.”
You let Dean lead you to your room and tuck you into bed. He even helped you take your shoes off when your fingers fumbled with the laces.
“Did you eat today?” Dean asked as you settled in.
“I…” you wracked your befuddled brain. “I had lunch…but then I threw it up sometime after sixth period.”
“Ok.” Dean cringed. “You get some sleep, I’m gonna go make you food.”
“Nooo.”
Dean turned in surprise at your desperate whine.
“What? What’s wrong?”
You grabbed at his sleeve and tugged.
“Don’t go,” you sniffled. “I don’t want food, I just want you to stay.”
“Ok, ok,” Dean relented, figuring that once you were asleep he could make you something. “You better not get me sick,” he said, only half kidding, as he sat on your bed. When you reached out to him, he went to put his arms around you, but the second his hands touched you, you flinched away.
“That hurts!” You were starting to cry now as you backed away from your brother.
“What hurts?” Dean was baffled. “I barely even…” he trailed off as he pressed the back of his hand to your head again, ignoring the way you hissed and tried to flinch away from him. “Jeesh, it’s even worse now,” Dean mumbled. “Just lay back now, you gotta get some sleep, ok?”
“Don’t go,” you begged.
“I’m not going anywhere, just take it easy sweetheart,” Dean promised. “Get some rest.”
Dean waited until he was sure you were asleep before he went to talk to Sam.
“She asleep?” Sam asked, not even looking up from the lore book he was studying.
“Yeah…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Sam, something’s wrong.”
“Wrong? What, with Y/N?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it…she was getting hot so fast, and when I tried to touch her, it was like I burned her or something. I don’t know, I guess I can’t be sure, but something about her getting sick doesn’t feel…normal.”
“Ok.” Sam nodded. “Well, you call around at the school and see if there’s a bug going around. I’m gonna hit the lore a bit more.”
The boys didn’t speak as they got to work.
Sam was heading to the kitchen when he heard you calling for him. He detoured into your room, his heart constructing when he saw you—you were pale and sweaty, the sheets sticking to your skin. He couldn’t tell if your cheeks were glistening from tears or sweat—it was obvious you were in pain.
“Hey honey,” he greeted gently. “Did you need something?”
“Can you stay with me?” You pleaded. Sam didn’t hesitate, coming over to sit on your bed. You reached out to hold his hand, but when your fingers touched his you hissed and pulled away.
“Something wrong?” Sam asked, remembering what Dean had said.
“It hurts.” Now there was no mistaking the tears on your face for sweat—Sam had never seen you so upset and in pain. “It’s like-like my skin is on fire and-and I just want a hug but when anybody touches me it just—it just gets worse.” You were out of breath and choking on your words by the end, and it took every ounce of Sam’s will to ignore his big brother instinct and not pull you into his arms—the last thing he wanted was to hurt you worse.
“Stay right here, I’m coming right back,” Sam said as he stood. You didn’t say anything, you just watched curiously—and a little worried—as Sam left. Sure enough, he returned a minute later with a bowl full of water and a glove.
“Ok, I’m gonna try something, hold still,” Sam instructed.
You started to giggle when Sam pulled the glove on and plunged his hand in the bowl. He grinned at you, happy to hear you laughing again.
“Ok now, hold still,” Sam insisted. “This is serious.” But he was still grinning as he took his dripping, gloved hand and pressed it against your forehead. “How does that feel?”
You closed your eyes in contentment as the cool water hit your skin and the gentle cloth brushed against your forehead.
“Better,” you told Sam with a smile. “Thanks, Sammy.”
“Anytime,” Sam said.
The two of you stayed like that for most of the afternoon, with Sam comforting you and trying to cool you off with the wet glove. Sam was determined to do anything he could to make you feel better while Dean was trying to investigate the cause of your illness. He’d also been calling Cas all day, but he hadn’t gotten an answer.
Dean was just about to give up on the books and catch a few hours of sleep when he heard Sam calling for him. He followed the sound to your room, where he found his little siblings resting on your bed.
“Can you sing me a song?” You asked, shyly picking at your sheets.
“Uhm…” Dean swallowed, a little uncomfortable. “Sure sweetheart.”
Sam relented his spot next to you so that Dean could climb in. He started off just humming “Hey Jude,” and within minutes you were fast asleep.
“You were right, Dean,” Sam said when he was sure you were asleep. “I don’t know what it is but—but it’s bad.”
“Ok well we don’t need to panic,” Dean assured him, noticing Sam’s rising anxiety. “She’s been sick before, let’s just give it a little longer and see what happens. Maybe Cas’ll finally come around and set her straight.”
“I don’t remember,” Sam mumbled.
“What?” Dean asked.
“Her getting sick. I barely ever remember her being sick.”
“Dad always sent you to school whether she was sick or not. I usually stayed behind to take care of her.” A ghost of a smile passed across Dean’s lips. “Most of the time I had to convince dad that I’d caught whatever she had so that he’d let me stay with her. I never wanted to leave her when she was sick.”
Sam was quiet for a long moment before a thought occurred to him.
“I don’t ever remember you sick.”
At this, Dean shrugged.
“I usually just powered through it. I had a job to do, after all.”
Sam was about to comment on that when his eyes suddenly snapped to you.
“Dean, is…is she breathing?” Dean jumped up as Sam moved closer to you. “Dean she’s not breathing!”
Dean blocked Sam from getting in the way and grabbed hold of your shoulders.
“Hey…hey!”
You jolted awake when Deans shook you, taking a great gulp of air the moment you were awake.
“Hey…ok…” Dean breathed a sigh of relief, holding you in his arms until he heard you crying as you tried to pull away. “You ok?” He asked as he let you go.
“It still hurts,” you sniffled. “What…what happened?”
“You stopped breathing,” Sam said. “It…jeez kid, you scared us.”
Dean noticed that your breaths still sounded labored.
“Are you ok?” He asked.
“It…it kinda hurts,” you muttered almost to yourself as you rubbed at your chest.
“Breathing?” Sam met Dean’s eyes—they were terrified.
Your only response was a tiny nod as you continued to take shallow breaths.
“I’m gonna try Cas again,” Dean said, standing from your bed.
“I’m…” Sam hesitated, as though he didn’t want to tell Dean what he was thinking. “I’m gonna call Rowena.”
“Rowena?” Dean demanded. “Why?”
“Because we don’t know what this is, Dean!” Sam insisted. “For all we know, she got cursed! We were looking into witch activity in the area. Maybe Rowena can help.”
Dean backed off.
“Fine. Call her.”
“I can’t heal her.”
“That’s because it’s a spell, you idiot.”
“I can’t be sure of that.”
“Well I can!”
“Ok, ok,” Dean interrupted Rowena and Cas’s argument. “This isn’t helping anything. Rowena, what can you do?”
“Not much I’m afraid,” Rowena sighed. “I can’t undo the spell.”
“Well can you at least tell us what the spell is?” Sam cut in before Dean had a chance to get angry.
“That’s easy enough. It seems to be some kind of…anti-body spell.”
“What does that mean?” Dean demanded.
“It means that her body is slowly starting to reject what it needs or wants the most. Basic needs like food, water, probably even sleep, will start to hurt her.”
“It hurt when I touched her skin,” Sam interrupted.
Rowena shrugged, and continued. “I suppose the need or desire for physical affection counts. It will get worse, though. Things that she can’t live without will be too painful for her to do. Eventually even breathing will be unbearable.”
“It already hurts to breathe.” Everyone had all but forgotten you were there until you made yourself known. Your voice came out in a terrified whisper, but everyone heard you clearly.
“We’re gonna fix it,” Dean asserted. “All we have to do is find the witch, right? Then kill her.”
“It might not be that simple,” Rowena sighed. “I mean, it could’ve been anyone. For all we know, they put a spell on Y/N to make her forget them.”
“Then what are we gonna do?!” Dean demanded.
“You and Cas try to find that witch,” Sam jumped in, trying to find a way to keep panic down. “We already have a head start, since we were pretty sure one was in the area anyway. You know where most of the strange activity was, start there. Rowena and I will stay here, try and see if there’s an undo spell.”
Dean didn’t hesitate to agree. If he wasn’t so preoccupied worrying over you, he would’ve been very proud of Sam, stepping up while he was panicking. Now that Dean had a direction, he was calmer—he was ready.
“Ok. Let’s go.”
“Please don’t leave me.”
Dean and Cas had already left, and Rowena and Sam were halfway out of your room when you tear-strained voice reached Sam. He turned to face you, and his resolve to hit the books in the library crumbled when he saw you, shaking in fear and taking shallow, painful breaths.
“Bring me some books to look through,” he muttered to Rowena before coming to sit on your bed.
It was silent in your room for a few deafening seconds, before your shattered gaze met Sam’s and you spoke, breaking his heart.
“I don’t wanna die, Sammy.”
“Hey,” Sam turned to face you, resisting once again the urge to pull you into his arms. “Me and Dean are never gonna let that happen. You know that, right?”
“It-it hurts to breathe,” you cried. “And it keeps getting worse. I don’t—I don’t know how long I can do it.”
“Hey, hey…” Sam was reaching for you when he remembered that that would only make you hurt worse. His hand froze in the air, halfway to your face. “I…” Sam‘s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t…don’t say that, ok? You have to keep fighting, ok? We’re gonna find a way to fix this, but you just have to keep fighting.” Sam was so desperate to hug you that he pulled his sleeves over his hand to cover his skin and pulled you into his arms. You allowed it for several seconds, wanting so desperately to just sink into his arms. But you couldn’t.
“That…” you struggled to get the words out; you didn’t want to say them. “That hurts, too, Sammy.”
Sam flinched back like he’d been shot, looking down at you in utter defeat.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
The despair in the room was total.
“I’ve got it!”
Sam regretted his outburst when you jolted awake. Rowena had warned the both of you that sleeping might end up making you hurt more rather than feel better, but you had all but passed out from exhaustion and pain, and Sam didn’t have the heart to stop you. Even in sleep, or body and face twitched in pain periodically.
Now that you were awake, it was obvious that Rowena was right; it had made it worse.
“What—“ your breathing was labored as each breath pained you. “What happened?”
Rowena stepped into the room, having heard Sam’s declaration.
“I found the spell,” Sam insisted, holding the book up. Rowena approached him with a dubious frown. However, once she started to read the spell she slowly nodded.
“This might just do it,” she said.
“I’m gonna call Dean.”
Dean and Cas returned within an hour.
“Not a single lead,” Dean said, annoyed. “So this had better work.”
“Let’s hope so,” Sam sighed, looking at Rowena. She nodded.
“It’s a good thing that this bunker is well-stocked,” she said. “I believe we’re running out of time.”
Your gaze turned downwards when everyone glanced at you at Rowena’s words. Sure enough, your breaths had been getting shallower and shorter in your failed attempts to make them hurt less. You were also weak and pale from the lack of food and water you’d had over the past two days.
“Do it.” Dean was the first to look away from you as he spoke to Rowena.
Rowena handed you a cup filled with a mixture of herbs and things you didn’t want to know about. Your lip was quivering as you lifted the cup to your lips—you’d avoided food and water for a reason; if breathing was like a stab to the chest, how would swallowing down a potion feel?
Sam’s heart was breaking as he watched you struggle to swallow through the pain, and Dean couldn’t even look.
As soon as you had the potion down, Rowena started reading a Latin incantation from the book. Sam watched you carefully as Rowena finished it. He crossed his fingers behind his back, holding his breath as he hoped that your own would become less labored. Instead, your eyes widened in surprise as your breaths became even more panicked.
“What’s happening?” Dean demanded, his eyes flashing from you to Rowena. “What did you do?!”
“I-I don’t understand…” Rowena muttered, flipping through the book. “It should have…”
“Sam…De…” you whimpered.
Dean’s panicked eyes met Sam’s, then yours, before they went back to Rowena.
“Found it!” Rowena breathed relief, before her eyes once again clouded with worry. “Oh no.”
“What?” Sam and Dean demanded in unison.
“The-the counterspell…it takes an hour to work, and as it works through the curse, the curse…fights back.”
“What does that mean?” Dean’s breathing sounded almost as labored as yours as he struggled to keep down his fear as well as his anger.
“It means that it’ll get worse before it gets better. If we…if we had found this at the beginning, it would’ve worked easily, but…”
“But she might not survive an hour like this,” Cas finished for Rowena, realizing what she was saying before either brother.
“What can we do?” Sam asked.
“Nothing.” Rowena shook her head. “This spell was her only hope, so…so we just have to wait and see if she outlasts the curse now. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour.”
“Ok,” Dean said, coming to sit by you. “You can do this kiddo, ok? We’re gonna be right here, you’re gonna be fine.”
The seconds crawled by one eternity at a time. Every time Dean thought you couldn’t look more in pain, your face twisted again as you tried over and over to take a deep enough breath to satisfy your starving lungs. Once it reached fifteen minutes left, Dean noticed that every minute or so you stopped breathing completely.
“Hey, c’mon.” Dean resisted the urge to cup your face. “C’mon keep breathing, you can do it.”
Suddenly you were reaching your arms out to Dean, and he was backing away.
“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said.
“Don’t…care,” You whimpered. “I…n-need y—“ you couldn’t seem to get out full words, but Dean didn’t need anything more.
“Ok, yeah.” You were in Dean’s arms in a second. “Ok, I’m here sweetheart. I’m here, you just gotta keep breathing. Keep breathing for me.”
You burrowed against your big brother despite the pain, trying all you could to keep breathing. The pain was so blindingly unbearable that you started to feel your vision blur and blacken. Sam was the first to notice you drooping in Dean’s arms, and he reached down and pulled your face away from Dean’s chest so he could look at you.
“Hey, you gotta stay awake honey,” Sam insisted.
“Don’t let her sleep!” Rowena commanded. “Her body will stop breathing automatically if she passes out.”
“Hey, hey,” Dean’s gentle taps to your face felt like full-on punches, but they did the trick. Your eyes fluttered open once more, and your hands gripped onto Dean even harder. Sam had joined Dean on your bed, his one arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind while Dean continued to hold you in his lap. Their touch was like fire on your skin, but never had a burn been so welcome.
“Keep breathing,” Dean was repeating over and over, and without that mantra you truly would have stopped ten minutes ago.
“Seven more minutes,” Cas announced.
You went to take another small breath, and you couldn’t keep the cry of pain in when it was the worst pain yet. It hit you so hard that you felt the darkness returning.
“No no no, hey,” Dean pleaded. “Breathe kiddo, you’ve gotta keep breathing.”
You’d barely even noticed that you stopped. It felt so good to stop. The pain of your unfilled lungs wasn’t nearly as horrible as the pain of breathing.
The relief was so great that you barely even felt when the blackness finally took over, and you slumped in Dean’s arms.
“No no no no…” Dean was shaking you over and over, but you were out cold. “Come on, breathe!”
“Six minutes,” Castiel said.
“She won’t last that long,” Sam breathed.
“It-it’s not an exact science,” Rowena cut in. “It might…maybe it will work a little faster.”
With nothing else to do, the four watched, barely breathing, as your body lay unnaturally still on your bed. Cas was watching his watch like a guard dog, counting the seconds until you would have brain damage…until you could die…
The great, gasping breath that escaped your lips as you sat up had all four onlookers nearly crying in relief. Sam and Dean had already been crying, but even the witch and the angel couldn’t hold in their emotions anymore as you began to breathe deeply again, tears of relief streaming down your own face.
Dean held you in his arms without fear, and you clung to him without pain. Sam’s arm was still around your shoulders—he hadn’t moved an inch.
“You’re ok,” Dean breathed as you cried on his shirt, and no one was sure if he was reassuring you or himself. “You’re ok sweetheart, I’ve got you.”
You refused to let go of your brothers, having spent two days unable to take comfort in them when you needed them most. The three of you stayed like that for so long that eventually Rowena left, but Cas stayed to watch over the Winchesters he had sworn to protect—to watch over the one he’d almost lost.
He watched silently as the three siblings fell asleep—you first, then Sam, then—once he was sure that his little brother and sister were ok—finally Dean.
He watched, knowing that they had almost lost everything today.
He watched, knowing that they would only be closer because of it.
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl
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itsbuckytm · 7 days
Text
Love at first Sight / Steve Harrington x Winchester!Sister
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Summary: The reader, as the younger sister of the Winchesters, moves to Hawkins to investigate a hunt after losing contact with their father, John. Unbeknownst to them, Hawkins harbors dark secrets, particularly when a certain boy rescues them from the monsters.
ps: This is my longest story to date, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it just as much! Since English isn't my first language, I apologize for any minor grammar errors.
word count; 6ks.
tag list ; @figurantedefilme
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“Father, hasn’t come back.” 
Dean’s words reiterate in your mind as you sat in the passenger seat. Sam, your twin, understood the potential consequences of bringing you along. You vividly recalled his argument about the test you had the next morning, how he had done everything possible to support your decision not to get involved. The thought of dragging their little sister, on the brink of graduating high school, into family matters made him troubled. "And where exactly is the location?" he asked, struggling to conceal his irritation while casting worried glances in your direction. 
Dean understood he had no alternative. If given the opportunity, there was no doubt he would have ventured alone. However, giving John's unequivocal instructions left no room for debate on the matter. When family, particularly your father, was concerned, it was imperative for everyone to participate, regardless of their preferences. Dean's grasp on the steering wheel tightened as he disclosed the destination you were bound for.
 “Hawkins.” 
Hawkins was nothing like Kansas. After an eight-hour drive with multiple stops, your brothers took turns at the wheel. For once, you all agreed that your father should be immensely grateful when you finally rescued him, especially given the uncertainty about where to start. It wasn't until you checked into a motel near Hawkins that the research on the haunting began in earnest.
Dean had gone to buy some food while Sam and you continued your search. The sun had set, giving way to the shimmering stars of the night. One of the things you couldn't help but admire about Hawkins was the luminous presence of its own scenery. You were stargazing from your motel window when you heard the door creak open and Sam's voice, poised to relay any information about your father's whereabouts. But it was Dean who spoke first, interrupting Sam's rambling about anything he could find useful. "So, you're telling me there are no official records, just a stupid student article about the incident that happened, what, a year ago? When it all started with a boy going missing?"
"Maybe we should ask for the chief," you suggested, recalling the man around your father's age whom your brothers had seen at the gas station an hour earlier. One who could definitely be a source of information. However, your brothers dismissed the notion, unwilling to involve others. "No, no, no," Dean said, pulling food from the plastic bag and placing it on the table. Sam, still engrossed in his laptop, grabbed the first item his hand found. "The one thing we definitely can't do is involve the cops, especially the sheriff."
And he was right, much as you hated to admit it. Dealing with the cops had never been your brother's strongest suits. Recalling numerous arrests, all tied to their hunting activities, with your father or Bobby often being the one to bail them out.
"I think I found something," Sam said, capturing your attention. Dean snatching the laptop from him, causing Sam to roll his eyes and start munching on his sandwich. "Demogorgon, really?" Dean said, almost offended by the article. What struck him, though, was how off the situation felt with the missing boy and the lab in Hawkins.
"I don't know, man. Don't look at me like that. Just read further," Sam insisted as Dean tried to process the information. Despite their extensive hunting experience, from Wendigo's to the King of Hell, Dean was on the verge of dismissing the student article entirely. This seemed like a stretch even for them.
"And you're telling me Dad went missing because of a half-man, half-creature that feeds on human powers?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam chuckled at his brother's disbelief and nodded. "That's what the article says," he confirmed, though Dean remained unconvinced. He needed more evidence, which meant by morning they will have to start questioning anyone around Hawkins. "Tomorrow, first thing. If the rumors are true, and as much as I hate to admit. Dad might be the creature's next snack anytime soon."
The next morning in Hawkins, you and your brothers headed to the nearest diner. Unlike other places you'd visited, Hawkins had a surprising calmness to it. You were particularly excited to visit the DVD store that had caught your eye, likely the only other place of interest besides the arcade. You always made a point to bring something back from each mission—a habit your brothers found odd yet endearing.
"Please," you begged Dean as the three of you walked into the diner. He rolled his eyes as you all sat down and ordered the usual breakfast: two coffees and an orange juice for you. "What do you even need at a DVD store?" he asked. "Maybe it could also be a good excuse for you and Sam to investigate," you replied with a hint of amusement. Your brothers exchanged a glance and thanked the waitress as she brought the food. "She isn't wrong, you know," Sam agreed, seeing the potential in the idea. "And if it makes Y/N feel at home..." 
"Fine," Dean finally conceded with a sigh. "But after that, we're heading to the trailer park." He insisted, knowing it was one of the areas where the creature had reportedly lingered and the last place your father was apparently seen.
"Robin, I told you, the last time I flirted with a woman, I couldn't even avoid making her cringe," Steve sighed as he brought the DVD tray to restock returns. Behind the counter, Robin mentally tallied her best friend's countless failures, a smile playing on her lips. “I call dibs on the next client.” As she noticed three silhouettes entering the store, her attention shifted entirely to them. "Welcome!" she greeted them, her tone ambiguous enough to make it unclear whether she enjoyed her job or not. "May I help you?"
Your brother wore an expression of determination. Sam, ever the polite one, smiled first and quickly refocused on their primary mission: finding your father. "We just need a few pieces of information," he said, presenting their fake FBI cards. You leaned forward, peeking between your brothers. Immediately catching Steve's attention. Outside, Max and Billy, being new in town, added to the unusual sight of newcomers, especially at this time of year. Steve couldn't help but admire this in awe. "I'll go look for a souvenir. Don't wait for me," you said, glancing at them one last time before heading off. 
"Alright, Chipmunk, just don't take long," Dean replied, prompting you to roll your eyes. Steve noted the nickname, remembering it all too well. As you made your way toward the shelves of tapes, Steve remained with your brothers, soon summoned by Robin.
"It's about their father," Robin had filled Steve in on the situation. Wherever their father was, it didn't sound promising, especially with everything happening—the Demogorgon, Vecna—anything could be connected. Observing Dean's expression shift from annoyance to complete shock, as Sam realized that dismissing the student article might have been their first mistake.
"So... you're saying you fought one of them?" Sam directed his question to Steve. Usually, Steve couldn't resist a bit of ego-boosting, but the serious expression on Dean's face and his repeated glances in your direction, ensuring you wouldn't make a mess, made Steve reconsider. Perhaps setting aside the flirting was the wisest choice. Thus, he simply nodded. "Yes, thanks to Dustin, who obtained the information initially. Even the police are clueless about what's truly occurring."
The Winchester brothers exchanged glances. "Dustin?" they asked simultaneously. Steve nodded in confirmation. "Yes, and not just Dustin. We also have El, who possesses superpowers. She's been instrumental, but given your father's disappearance, someone would have found his body by now or—" Steve hesitated, unwilling to entertain darker possibilities, especially after their experience in the Upside Down. He shared a concerned look with Robin, who shrugged, considering various scenarios. "Wait—let me just process all of this," Dean interjected, taking a step back. Robin offered him a seat at the counter, which he gratefully accepted as he attempted to piece everything together.
"So, let me get this straight: first, this kid Will goes missing, then you guys run into some Demo-whatever-the-hell-it's-called, and now there's this girl with random powers who was held captive in a lab by some Vecna creep?" Dean recalled how vague his father had been on the phone the previous night, mentioning he'd be at some sort of lab. The thought worried him, prompting Sam to give his brother a concerned look. "Are you okay?" Sam inquired. Dean hummed a yes and locked eyes with Steve, who swallowed nervously. Despite only meeting briefly that day, something about your older brother made Steve fidgety. Dean paused momentarily, then retrieved an article from his back pocket and placed it on the counter. Steve immediately recognized Nancy's handwriting.
"Not to sound arrogant, but that's your source?" Steve gestured towards the paper, blinking twice. While Nancy's article was informative, she had to simplify and spice it up to attract readers for her publication, not to mention keep the whole Upside Down ordeal a secret. Steve distinctly recalled her mentioning that. However, he hadn't anticipated it would attract a group of hunters brandishing fake FBI badges. Despite his reservations, he refrained from commenting on it. "Also," he added, indicating their badges, "this whole fake badge charade doesn't fool us. We've already dealt with the Russians trying that stunt," he remarked smugly. Just as you arrived with a stack of DVDs, you couldn't help but laugh. "See? I told you those FBI badges were outdated."
Sam's lips curved into a playful smile as he observed your reaction. Despite disliking that you were traveling with them and missing out on a normal life outside of hunting, it was gratifying to see you interacting with people your age. Your formal demeanor while conversing with Steve, who nodded in response to your comment, was refreshing, as were the small interactions you shared with Robin. "Cash?" Steve inquired next, prompting an eager nod from you as Dean stepped in to pay. "But I have enough!" you protested, pouting adorably—a sight that Steve found strangely endearing. He snapped back to reality as your brother impatiently waited for him to retrieve the cash. "Want-Want the receipt?" Steve asked stuttering slightly, to which your brother shook his head. As the three of you prepared to leave the store, thanking the two employees one last time, Dean paused, causing Sam and you to exchange a curious glance. Dean clearly had something in mind.
"Can we arrange a meeting spot?" he inquired. Steve and Robin shared a glance, aware that the next day they would be assisting Dustin in searching for his friend Eddie. It appeared to be an ideal opportunity, particularly since your brothers intended to explore Hawkins' forest as well. "Skull Rock?" the younger boy proposed. Neither your brothers nor you were aware that you would have more company than anticipated. Dean hesitated, but upon seeing your radiant expression as you held the stack of DVDs you had purchased, you spoke up on their behalf before he could respond. "We'll be there!"
Steve's prediction proved accurate. The following morning arrived, and he remained uncertain whether you would indeed appear, let alone bring your brothers along. The previous night, after interviewing numerous locals, you had practically pleaded with them to join, convinced it was an excellent idea. Considering your father's tendencies, initiating the search in the forest seemed logical. "If this is because of that Steve boy again," Dean interjected with disdain evident in his tone, prompting you to roll your eyes. "It has nothing to do with him! Besides, he's taken down one of these creatures before. I'd sooner trust a DVD seller than a random sheriff at this point." You made a valid argument, and upon witnessing the resolve in your expression, Sam concurred, "She's got a point." With a sigh, Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before starting the engine without another word and directing the car toward Skull Rock.
"So who are we waiting for exactly?" Dustin inquired impatiently, observing Steve's restless pacing. "And what's with the sudden nerves?" Robin teased with a smirk. "It's Y/N." "Y/N?" Steve spoke your name, almost offended. "Oh, so you know her name?" Robin enjoyed Steve's irritation and couldn't resist teasing him further. "She mentioned it before they departed, in case you were paying attention, lover boy."
"They?" Dustin regarded the two adults before him, clearly perplexed by the situation and the strangers they had involved. "Her father vanished, and her brothers, who are apparently hunters, were dispatched here. We're just hoping we don't stumble upon their father's lifeless body along the way," Steve explained. He hadn't intended to sound so severe, but his nerves had taken over, leading him to adopt a touch of sarcasm. His confidence faltered as he heard your brother's voice drawing nearer. "Y/N, this is nonsense. We should've contacted Castiel."
"Yes, but remember, Castiel's at the hospital right now. He needs the rest," you reminded them, recalling the events of the last hunt. "Come on, grumpy old man," you added, grabbing Dean's arm, eliciting a whine from him, while Sam chuckled, enjoying the moment. As your eyes met Robin’s, you waved at her. "Robin!"
Robin was the first to notice your arrival and approached you with a hug. You were introduced to Dustin, whom they described as the clever one, and who had some knowledge about the creatures and your father's potential whereabouts. Lucky for him, he had mentioned about seeing a man whose description bore a striking resemblance to your father's, which he promptly relayed to Dean. "So, that's how you stumbled upon this entire Russian trap?" you inquired. They all nodded in agreement, but their conversation was interrupted as Eddie emerged from his hiding spot, causing you to startle slightly.
"Dustin, you rascal," Eddie's voice reverberated in your thoughts. Amidst the chaos of your missing father and the onslaught of curses from Max and Eddie, whom you had only just met, Eddie extended his hand to shake yours, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he flashed a smile. "Haven't seen you around before, sweets," he remarked, managing to find humor in the situation despite its gravity, prompting a slight cringe from Steve, who had been the first to encounter you. Yet, you couldn't deny that Eddie exuded a certain charm of his own. "We've been sent on a mission. My father disappeared around here a few days ago, and my brothers, who are hunters, insisted I come," you explained, introducing Dean and Sam to everyone present, including Lucas, Max, and Nancy, all of whom reciprocated with their own introductions.
"And I assume you're familiar with me," the metalhead sighed at his presence, wishing for a more auspicious introduction. You shook your head, seeking confirmation from Robin and then Steve. "Eddie," Steve answered, somewhat irritated. "The 'supposed boy' who was involved in the cheerleader's death?" your brother recited from a news article. But quickly flinched and groaned in discomfort as you took the crumpled article and hit it against his chest. "Good Lord, Y/N, what was that for?" he protested as you gave him a knowing glance. 
"Do you get a serial killer vibe from him?" you questioned, coming to Eddie's defense. “It’s alright, Y/N, there’s no need…” Observing the unfolding scene, Steve couldn't help but wish he were in Eddie's position, but circumstances had changed since your meeting with him the day before. Determined to contribute, he spoke up. "Shouldn't we be, you know, taking action instead of just standing around? Especially for their father, Dustin, and everything?" 
Dustin briefly glanced at Steve, recognizing that familiar look of jealousy. First, it was with Nancy, and now it seemed directed toward a complete stranger. Amused, Dustin couldn't resist teasing him and feigned ignorance, only serving to make Steve's jealousy even more evident. Meanwhile, you were completely absorbed in Eddie's presence, oblivious to Steve's inner turmoil. Dean, always the vigilant brother, interjected, "Come on, lover boy, no time to waste," playfully tousling your hair as he noticed Steve's uneasy glance. You muttered a few choice words before smoothing down your hair. It was endearing to witness the two men vying for your attention, but it also put Dean, the protective brother, on edge. "Sammy?" he called out, turning to Sam, who was already assisting Dustin in plotting the next course of action. "Ready?"
You, on the other hand, gave a final glance to Eddie, who appeared ready. "Lead the way, sweetheart," you encouraged. The walk proved lengthier than anticipated, and as the sun began to set, the sky revealed the first twinkling stars, a sight you never failed to appreciate. Steve made a point to remain by your side throughout. "Look!" you exclaimed, prompting Steve to recall the way your smile lit up your face. Your observation caused everyone, including your brothers, to pause in their tracks. "The stars seem larger tonight," you remarked in awe. "Are you a fan of astrology?" Eddie inquired, leaning closer to you, and you turned to regard him. "And you?" you countered. He shrugged. "Not particularly, but now that you mention it, Hawkins nights do hold a certain allure, don't they, Steve?"
"Indeed," Steve responded, the faint edge of irritation apparent in his tone. Eddie noticed, recognizing the signs of infatuation, and chose not to press the matter further. "Perhaps," he suggested, "rather than discussing stars, we should direct our attention to..."
An interruption broke the silence—a familiar screech that caused Dustin to halt abruptly, prompting everyone to freeze in place. He listened intently, ensuring it wasn't merely his imagination. "Do you all hear that?" he whispered, the sound growing louder. Your brothers remained nearby, while Steve stood steadfastly by your side. You could have sworn you felt his fingers graze yours, prompting you, out of habit, to reach for his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, he was your knight in shining armor.
Dean swiftly seized the flashlight, his actions quickened by a piercing scream resonating through the air. As you turned to confront the creature lurking in the shadows, a chill of fear gripped you, compounded by the sight of blood dripping from its jaw. Paralyzed, you sensed its menacing presence drawing nearer with each passing second. In the blink of an eye, it lunged towards you. "Y/N!" Steve's urgent voice reverberated in your mind as Dean barked orders at Sam to take the first shot. Yet, the gunfire proved futile against the relentless creature. "Steve!" Robin's frantic shout pierced through the chaos as she tossed him the bat. Everything unfolded too swiftly to comprehend.
Overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the creature, you found your knees giving way, sending you tumbling to the ground. In a swift response, Eddie rushed to your side, offering reassurance in a soothing tone. "It's alright, it's gone," he repeated, his words a steady anchor amidst the chaos. With trembling hands, you instinctively shielded your face, attempting to suppress the rising tide of screams threatening to escape.
Unbeknownst to the group, your father had been silently observing from the shadows all along. With keen interest, he monitored the actions of his two sons and daughter, though the sight of you among them caught him off guard. This situation served as a test, one that Dean might soon recall—it was designed to assess whether the two boys were prepared to tackle cases beyond their usual scope. However, your involvement was an unexpected twist, not part of the original plan. Little did John know, another version of himself had been lurking much closer than anticipated.
Sam was the first to discern John's presence. His disbelief was palpable, tinged with a hint of revulsion at the sight of his father seemingly unscathed, contrary to the myriad theories the three Winchesters had fervently debated in recent days. "Dad? Dad?" Dean's puzzled expression mirrored Sam's confusion, just as Steve swiftly dispatched the Demogorgon with a well-timed blow. 
"Boys," John greeted with a smile that felt forced. Max, sensing an underlying unease, found herself growing suspicious. Though not intimately acquainted with the Winchesters' father, her own encounters with flayed individuals had honed her instincts. "Guys," she interjected, attempting to capture Steve's attention, "I have my doubts about him." Steve, casting a brief glance at Hargrove, immediately redirected his focus upon hearing your faint cries, ensuring your well-being as he knelt beside Eddie. Meanwhile, your brothers stood frozen in astonishment at the sight of their impostor father.
"Dean?" Max's voice reverberated in your brother's mind, prompting him to turn towards her. "Yes?" he replied, noting the concern etched on her features. An instinctual feeling swept over him, suggesting that the figure before them wasn't their father. With Sam in close proximity, Dean couldn't resist beckoning him over, yet there was no response. "I don't believe it's your father," Max murmured softly, her words carrying a weight of conviction. "And what leads you to that conclusion?" Dean inquired, though inwardly he harbored similar suspicions. Despite clinging to a glimmer of hope, he remained open to Max's insight. "Do you notice any discrepancies?" Bingo. Dean scrutinized the man masquerading as their father, discerning subtle nuances in his smile, his gaze, and the feigned affection. It became increasingly apparent that whatever entity had taken control was failing miserably at replicating their father's mannerisms.
"I'm relieved to find you all here. I was growing concerned," the voice emanated, its tone unsettling. Max's intuition proved correct. Sensing trouble, Sam moved closer while Dean hastened towards him, their actions synchronized with the abrupt sound of another gunshot. The bullet found its mark, striking the impostor masquerading as John. A sickly green fluid oozed from his mouth, portending imminent danger. His once-human eyes now glowed an eerie white. In a stroke of luck, John had managed to discharge a bullet into his counterfeit form. Sam's eyes widened in horror as he cried out for his father.
Dean's grip tightened on his firearm, grappling with the uncertainty of the situation, questioning the authenticity of the figure before him. John's eyes met yours, a silent challenge conveyed through his gaze. Despite the tension, you managed to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of the moment. With Steve's presence lending you reassurance, you stood your ground, determined to maintain composure amidst the uncertainty.
"Bringing Y/N along, really?" Your father's tone dripped with a mix of disgust and shame, causing Sam to sense the weight of the situation. Understanding the pressure you were under, he rose to stand by your side. Meanwhile, Eddie and Steve, recognizing the need for composure, subtly suggested maintaining distance, hinting at the gravity of family matters. Despite their advice, you clung to their shirts, silently pleading for their support. "Please," your eyes implored. Thus, you, Sam, Eddie, Steve, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Robin, and Nancy maintained a respectful distance, observing the unfolding events.
Dean harbored discontent towards his father's stance on involving you in the discussion. While it had been acknowledged that reaching a certain age would inevitably draw you into the hunting lifestyle, akin to Sam's trajectory, Dean remained disheartened by the prospect. He often cited Sam's own journey, pointing out how it led him to abandon Stanford and commit to hunting full-time. Unlike Dean, Sam advocated for a conventional life for you, one filled with relationships and camaraderie. The time spent in Hawkins only solidified this perspective for you. "She's prepared," Dean asserted, though John's skepticism was evident.
"Y/N, return to the car," your father's voice rang out, commanding attention as all eyes turned towards where you knelt, shaking your head in defiance. "I said, return to the vehicle," he reiterated, employing the same authoritative tone he used on Sam during the vampire hunt. Just as you were about to interject, Sam's figure materialized beside you. Sensing the escalating tension, Steve cautiously ushered Eddie away, allowing space for Sam to intervene.
 He knelt beside you, meeting your gaze with familiarity, recognizing the turmoil reflected in your eyes—a familiar sight during conflicts between your father and himself. Understanding the need to address the situation decisively, not only for his own sake but for yours as well, he inquired, "Do you want me to speak to him, instead?"
A silent sob and a nod conveyed everything. "No, Dad," Sam's voice, grave and resonant, shattered the stillness. He reserved that tone for moments of utmost gravity. Dean attempted to interject, "Sam!" but his words fell on deaf ears; Sam had already approached their father. "She's not prepared," Sam asserted, his gaze penetrating the darkness of the night. Towering slightly over their father, he leaned in, exuding an air of palpable tension. "You are the reason she departed in the first place. In any case."
"What did you just say?" John's voice carried the weight of authority, now laced with a menacing undertone aimed at both his son and daughter for their insubordination. "You heard me," Sam retorted unwaveringly, his gaze hovering dangerously close to his father's collar, poised for confrontation. Yet, he refrained from physical action, mindful of the precarious situation in Hawkins. The tension between the two men simmered, with Dean positioned between them, striving to defuse the escalating conflict. "Yes, you left when your brother and I needed you. You chose her over us! Sam! You—"
"And let's not forget, Dad, you're the one who said, 'Don't come back.' You slammed that door shut on her, not me! You were just angry because you couldn't control her anymore!" Dean interjected, seizing his brother's collar to preempt any potential altercation. John, their father, fixed his gaze on you. Sam's accusation hit home. Despite your love for him, the scars from his domineering nature and the dangers of the hunt still haunted you. Was it all to prove a point about strength? Even now, the memories of that day haunted your dreams. 
"We're all exhausted," Dean interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Now that we've found you, maybe we can head back to the motel." Sam's expression betrayed his reluctance, but it seemed like the most prudent course of action. With their father located, the Winchesters knew their business in Hawkins was concluded. However, your intentions were different. You had someone else in mind: Steve.
Steve observed the scene with mounting fury. The family conflict played out before him, and seeing you curled up, trying to hide your distress, fueled his anger. He was furious at your father for forcing you into a life you hadn't chosen, for making you feel trapped by the family legacy. Watching your brother stand up for you only deepened his ire. Later that night, while your brothers tried to calm your father. From how you would see him gently caressed your cheek, wiping away any lingering tears, and let you collapse into his arms. Murmuring soothing words such as, "Hey, it’s going to be alright. I’m here." And he meant it. He stayed with you all night, knowing that by tomorrow, you might be gone. Or so he thought.
The following night, you faintly recalled your brothers arguing, their voices rising until they stepped outside to avoid waking you. The hunt had left you drained, but your father's harsh words lingered in your mind. With your eyes closed, feigning sleep, you heard the front door of the motel room creak open. Your father entered and knelt beside you, gently brushing the hair from your face. The look on his face, one you couldn't forget, made you wonder if Sam had managed to get through to him. "I am so sorry..." he murmured softly.
His voice was hoarse from crying. Whatever they had discussed was more significant than you had imagined, affecting not just you but Sam as well. As his twin, you had always stood by his side, through thick and thin. Your father, recognizing this bond, finally broke the silence, "If you want to go to college," he said, his voice laden with emotion, "then you can. I love you."
He hadn't wanted to wake you, but his genuine words stirred you. You couldn't help but lean in and wrap your arm around his waist just as he was about to leave. Initially thinking you were asleep, his eyes widened in surprise, then softened as he smiled and returned your embrace. When your brothers returned with food, Sam smiled but refrained from teasing, not wanting to embarrass you. "Dinner?" he asked simply, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.
Your father glanced at you as you wiped away the last of your dried tears. Nodding, you joined the three men at the dinner table. As you ate, your thoughts drifted to Steve and the longing to see him one last time. "I know we're leaving tomorrow, but..." you began, cheeks flushing. Dean, catching on immediately, spoke through a mouthful of sandwich, "The lover boy?" He raised an eyebrow. Both Sam and your father chuckled, with your father raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Who?" he asked, though he clearly knew. "Steve," you murmured, so softly that your family made you repeat it. "Who?" they echoed, smirking. "Steve! Alright, jeez. Anyway, I have to return my DVDs anyway."
Dean rolled his eyes, even though he was notoriously inept when it came to romance. Seeing you with someone, especially someone like Steve, was undeniably endearing. He knew Steve was a good guy—after all, he had helped a complete stranger in the woods, which had led to more than just uncovering their father's disappearance. Now they knew their dad had been flayed. While Dean hated the idea of leaving so soon, he understood that helping Hawkins was necessary. And if it meant you could spend a little more time with Steve, he didn’t mind at all. "You know," he said in a suggestive tone, "I talked with this Dustin kid..."
You met your brother's gaze, eyebrows furrowed, sensing he was onto something significant. "Spill," Sam demanded.
"Well, I also talked to Dad," Dean began. "We discovered something more sinister lurking beneath Hawkins. They need all the help they can get, so I offered our assistance. We’ll be staying a few days to start our search." Your eyes widened in shock and joy as you processed your brother's words. This meant you might be staying for weeks, even months, given the seriousness of the Upside Down situation. And it also meant more time with Steve. “So, we’re staying?” you asked, excitement evident in your voice. Dean nodded with a smile, ruffling your hair. "Don't get too excited, Chipmunk. But yes, and Dad is joining in."
You couldn't be more grateful, and as the three of you settled into bed that night, only one thought occupied your mind: Steve.
The next morning, your brothers and father decided to eat at the nearest café in Hawkins. Over breakfast, you managed to gather more information: one piece related to Max's curse and another concerning Eddie's possible connection to Chrissy's murder, a name you learned only afterward. “And I thought vampires were bad,” you quipped, eliciting chuckles from your brothers. Given your extensive hunting records and those of your brothers and father, it was evident that this situation in Hawkins was unlike anything you had faced before.
After breakfast, while your family was investigating with Dustin's help, you decided to visit the store. Steve was nowhere to be found, so you gently placed the DVDs on the counter and waited. As time passed, your patience waned. With a sigh, you left the DVDs and some cash on the table, resigning yourself to the thought that Steve might already be thinking of someone else, perhaps even kissing another girl. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out, “Y/N! So sorry, it was my break shift. I didn’t–”
Your face brightened at his presence, a wave of relief washing over you for not considering his break earlier. You watched him clumsily put on his vest and walk toward you for a hug. “You okay?” he asked, releasing you and focusing entirely on you, his eyes filled with affection. You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yes, we finally managed to talk it out with my father,” you murmured, still processing the emotional weight of the conversation.
Steve's concern was palpable, but relief washed over his face as you spoke. “Also,” he added, a smile spreading across his lips, “I heard you’ll be staying here for a while, huh?” His teasing tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile, nodding your head and murmuring a soft, “Mhm.”
"Yep, my brothers insisted on helping as much as they can," you said, appreciating their unwavering support, even in the gravest situations. It was one of the many reasons you wanted to join their hunts; balancing college and hunting didn't seem so daunting after all. "This means seeing your face all day," you added with a teasing pout, trying to feign offense. Steve's chuckle and eye roll, however, told you he saw right through your playful act.
"Ouch, I am hurt," he said sarcastically, stepping closer. It was now or never, he thought. If he waited another day, another week, who knew when he'd get another chance to express his feelings. "You know," his voice became slightly hoarse as his eyes roamed over your face and body. His fingers gently brushed your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. Up close, you realized how striking Steve's eyes were—something you'd have to get used to. "I don't have anything planned for tonight," he purred, making you tilt your head in feigned innocence. You knew Steve had something in mind, even if he wasn't saying it outright.
"I was thinking of inviting you over for a movie night at my place. I'll cover the pizza," he offered, his words causing your cheeks to warm. While you felt the urge to inform your brothers, you decided to wait until later, until you were at Steve's house. "Alright, lover boy," you said, using the nickname your brother had coined for him. Steve grunted and rolled his eyes, dismissing the teasing. "So, tonight at 8, Chipmunk?" he added with a smirk, to which you responded with a playful glare.
"Eight o'clock it is," you agreed. Just as you felt the warmth of Steve's proximity, the door swung open. In walked Dustin, Max, Eddie, and your brothers. Dean, unable to resist, was the first to comment. "Alright, lovebirds, we've got some research to do. If you want my sister by eight, we need to get started immediately."
"Dean!" you protested, turning to face your brother with a glare. He smirked and followed Dustin to the DVD computer, while Steve protested for more carefulness. As everyone crowded around the screen, Sam approached you, leaving the two of you momentarily alone. "You know," he said with a genuine smile, "if you want to go to college—" You shook your head. Despite your father’s agreement, you couldn’t leave your family behind; you loved them too much. "No, I really think I'm ready," you replied. Sam raised an eyebrow, taken aback but relieved, and wrapped one arm around you in a quick hug.
"Then let’s kill this thing," Sam said, and you nodded, following him. Who would have thought that a place you initially hoped would hold clues about your father's whereabouts would also be where you'd find friends and someone to count on—Steve Harrington. "You okay?" Steve murmured as you joined him, noticing your brief discussion with Sam. "Yes, I am," you replied with a smile, feeling his hand gently squeeze yours. "I just can’t wait for tonight as well," you confessed, and you could have sworn you saw Steve's cheeks warm at your comment, which you found adorably endearing. He leaned in to press a kiss on your cheek, returning the favor.
"I am too," he said.
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jasmines-library · 3 months
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Hey I don't know if you've ever done a Winchester!sister story with the sister being really young and also much younger then her brothers, so I don't know if you would be able to do this request for me but I really hope you can:)
Anyway the request is 2 year old reader wakes her brothers up by crying and they get up and find her in her crib her onsie pajamas buttons is open as if she tried to get rid of it and then when Dean picks her up he feels the heat radiating from her.
Both Dean and Sam know they have to take care of the situation. Dean takes her temperature, and they find out she is sick and they take care of her and so on and so on. This is just a type of summary so you can change things as much as you like. I love a good fluff and angst story;)
Loveee your writing and can't wait for this story❤️❤️❤️
Sick Bug
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⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Summary: When you wake up feeling sick, your big brothers are there to help make you feel better.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Sickness
Exciting sidenote: I am 2 followers away from 1K!!
⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
You were crying again. Poor baby had been restless all day, tossing and turning as if you were trying to escape a force that wasn’t there. At first your brothers thought you were just over tired: the three of you had been on the road all day. Travelling with a toddler was dangerous business, so Sam and Dean tried not to do it often, but with Cas MIA and Bobby out of town they were left with no choice.
They had lay you down to rest not too long ago, but you had been restless since then. You had protested being put to bed in the first place, clinging to Dean with your little hands but after some coaxing he had managed to get you to sleep. That and you were absolutely exhausted and struggling to keep your little eyes open.
Then your eyes had come flying open and your little whimpers filled the room. You were too hot and felt like you were going to suffocate as your squirmed, trying your unbutton your pyjamas. Your head ached and your sinuses were uncomfortably blocked, throwing you off balance.
Dean rose slowly from his slumber, altered by your cries. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he made his way to your crib where you were sat up trying to struggle out of your onesie. Sam rolled over to glance at your from his bed. He hadn’t really been sleeping, but seeing as Dean had made his way over to you he didn’t feel the need to.
“What’s the matter, huh sweetheart?” Dean frowned as he reached out to pick you up. Your arms reached out instinctively to grab him as you continued to cry.
The second you were in Deans arms he became increasingly worried about the warmth that radiated off of you and he shot a look to Sam who, at his brothers concerning lack of speech, clambered out of bed and moved cumbersomely towards you.
You buried your face into the crook of Deans’s neck trying to hide from the ache. His skin provided some relief and you sniffled. Dean further furrowed his brow. Your skin was hot. Too hot.
“Sweetheart?” Dean tried to coax your face away from his neck. He brushed away the stray hairs that your cold flush of sweat had plastered to the edge of your face before pressing his palm to your forehead. “She’s warm, Sammy.”
“You feeling poorly, kiddo?” Sam asked, taking you from Deans arms. You clung to him closely and nodded feebly.
Dean moved quickly towards the first aid kit, rummaging around for the thermometer as Sam bounced you up and down gently in his arms to try and soothe you a little. The eldest Winchester’s movements were somewhat panicked as he pulled out the glass cylinder.
“Alrighty sweetheart, open up.” He tried to persuade you to place the tube under your tongue. When you finally stopped trying to turn your tired face away and they had convinced you to hold it in your mouth for long enough, Sam pulled out to reveal that the line had skyrocketed to 101.
“Fever.” Sam confirmed, showing his brother the thermometer. He shifted you in his arms. “Explains why she can’t sleep.”
Suddenly you were overtaken by a fit of harsh, dry coughs that tore through you. Sam winced, rubbing you back gently.
“S’mmy…” you blubbered gripping his shirt tightly.
“Shh. It’s alright sweetheart we’ve got you.” Sammy moved over to the bed, still cradling you in his arms. He looked up at Dean. Realistically he knew that you would be fine, but he had never dealt with anything like this before and it worried him.
Dean on the other hand knew how to handle the situation. He had dealt with Sammy being ill plenty of times when he was younger. But when he looked at your flushed and sweaty cheeks and the way your body shivered ever so slightly, he couldn’t help but feel awful. As though he should have found someone to take care of you instead. But watching you curled up in his brother’s arms he realised he had more pressing matters to worry about.
Moving back to the first aid box, he pulled out a dose of medicine, cursing silently when you were overrun by another coughing fit. It was followed by another whimper. Sam slowly removed the outer layer of your onesie hoping that he could cool you down quicker. Still you clung to him closely, too young to understand that you might get him sick as you sniffled against him, but Sam didn’t care. He would risk being sick if it meant taking away your pain.
“Here we go sweetheart.” Dean wandered back over, a cool glass of water on one hand and a medicine in the other: one of those small sachets that they kept on hand in case of emergencies. “This will help you feel all better.” He promised.
Reaching out you held onto the cup, and with Deans help took a few sips. The icy water soothed the back of your throat and you sighed in content, setting back into Sam a little. It took a little more convincing for you to take the medicine. Tired and overwhelmed you had tried to refuse the bitter taste. But in the end Sam had promised you that you would feel much better if you took it, so reluctantly you let the liquid slide over your tongue.
It wasn’t long after that that you began to grow tired. Your little eyes struggled to stay awake as you lay curled up in Sam’s lap. Dean had perched beside him, watching shitty cartoons to help keep him awake so he could monitor your temperature in case you got any worse. Though as your ragged breaths evened out into tiny half-snores, the medicine seemed to be doing its job as your temperature seemed to slowly fall back down to a slightly more normal number.
At some point, Sam had also fallen asleep. Rubbing circles on your back and smoothing over your hair had lulled him into slumber. Dean smirked and pulled the bedcovers over the two of you. It looked like you weren’t going back to your bed tonight.
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SPN TAGS:
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inlovewhithafairytale · 5 months
Text
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POV: Your camara roll if you were the Winchester's little sister
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rustys-lodge · 4 months
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Heyyy! i was wondering if i could request a supernatural fic. Deand and sams little sister (10) has been having really bad nightmares and one night she wakes up in a wet bed. This fic would mean a lot because i struggled with this for a long time🤍🤍 Lots and lots of comfot!!
A/N: sorry for the delay, i accidently didn't save every time i wrote something so i had to rewrite it many times. Also ik the gifs dont match the story but id personally rather have a picture in my mind of who im reading about so yeah ❤️
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You had just woken up-jolted awake-in the dead of night when sticky pyjamas started itching your legs.
You sleepily pulled your leg up, your fingers roaming around to feel for the itchy part when realization hit you-You wet the bed. And as a storm of thoughts started hitting you, tears pooled down your face.
You didn't mean it. You didn't want that to happen. The things haunting your dreams took full control of you. Of your body. You didn't mean for this to happen. What will Sam and Dean think of you. What would they-
"Kid."
A little gasp escaped your throat before you went quiet. You blinked through the tears, still under the shock and fully unprepared.
"Get out, get out. Get out." You histerically shouted, pulling the covers up to hide your body. "Get out!"
But Dean's furrowed eyebrows showed no cooperation. He wasn't about to leave you. And his careful steps contrasting your harsh demand for him to go only showed that.
Your small hands gripped the covers harder as he closed in on you. "Kid, what's gotten into y-"
"Don't-"
"Don't ask me to leave when you obviously need my hel-"
"I don't. Please lea-NO"
A yell that you did not permit escaped your lips when Dean's thigh was only inches away from resting on the bed. "Don't sit! i-i-" A storm of choked up sobs welled up and burst . And it seemed like Dean finally understood when he sighed, understanding and sympathetic.
"Oh kiddo..." His hand gently went for the covers, which you held tighter, but he tugged at it a couple of times and you let go, bringing your legs close to your upper body, enveloping them in a defensive manner.
And just as if you weren't humiliated enough, Sam entered your room, a mixture of worry and sleepiness puzzling his features.
"She..." Dean hesitated, causing embarrassment to flush your cheeks and more tears to gather in your eyes.
"I...I'm sorry. I-I was having such bad nightmares and i-" You sniffled, unable to hold the tears in. "I don't kno-"
"it's okay...Honey, come here." Sam came over, holding his hand out for you to hold. "come here." He softly pulled you out of bed. "Let's go take a quick bath."
You followed Sam to the bathroom, and a shower and a fresh change of clothes later, you find yourself settled in between your pillow,ms, right beside Sam.
He handed you your little bunny when he noticed a change in your features. "Don't...think about it too much, pumpkin." Sam spoke. And it somehow arose that embarrassement and fear within you again. Your cheeks heated up. You were once again feeling the same you were earlier.
"I'm sorry that i caused you troub-"
Your little mumbled was halted when Sam cupped your cheeks, enveloping the entirety of your face. "We're sorry that you have to go through that every night. And that you had to witness the monstrosities of the world at such a young age."
You lowered uour gaze to the ground as he continued. "Please do not apologize to us."
Your brother shifted his body to lay on his side, facing you, and as you did the same, he wrapped his hand around your back, pulling you close to him.
"Nothing can hurt you now. I got you."
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I'm sorry you struggled with that ❤️❤️ i hope this fic brings you the comfort needed ❤️
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ellieslittleburrow · 5 months
Text
🎄 Christmas time with Dean
Warnings : none
Pairings : Dean x sister!reader.
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Little old you had just woken up when the door to your room clicked shut.
You lifted your head to look out and then dropped it back against the pillo-
Ouch-
A fairly soft but painful-nonetheless- object collides with the side of your cheek, you slide your hand under the pillow, fingers rumming around for the pain inducing thin- a box?!
You pull it out and a smile flashes on your face. It's a little blue box. You open it and your eyes glint with absolute astonishment as a bluish translucent stone sends adrenaline pumping through your whole body. It's a fucking jeremejevite!!!!
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Softly opening the door after knocking, you peek into the room when a soft chuckle leaves your lips at the sight in front you, Classic old Dean while laying in belly, eyes you from the side.
"What do you want?" Carelessness laces his voice. He almost sounds annoyed that you're there. Fucker.
"What's this?" You hold the box up and he looks away, munching on his pizza.
"What's it look like? It's a stone for your dumbass brain. It'll help you get smart-"
"Shut up, Dean" you cut him off before heading over to the side of the bed. "Help me put it on." You sit on the edge as he gets up on his knees, shifting over to kneel right behind you.
You hand him the necklace. And all suddenly quiets down. It's not uncomfortable. It's just weighed with unspoken words. A prison of things to say but things that neither of you can say.
"How'd you find it?" You speak. "I've been looking for it for so long." You try to sound neutral as excitement slowly builds up again. This stone has been on your list for ages. It's one of the rarest-And- the fact that you have one in such a tiny and elegant little form just sent you over the moon. "How?!"
Dean humms. " A special girl deserves a special christmas present."
A smile creeps up on your face, even though Dean is not be able to see it. You couldn't even think of how much he had to pay to get you this stone. And although it's very small, the idea of it being there was more than enough to fill you up with absolute joy.
"Merry christmas, buddy." The hunter snaps you out of your thoughts, slowly wrapping his arms around your chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
It must've been a bit uncomfy, considering that he's pretty big even when kneeling down. But he still held you tight anyway.
He, probably, couldn't say it to you in your face, either, resorting to hiding behind you.
You decide to lighten up the mood for him. Change subjects before he gets too uncomfy. "I'm...sorry, Dean. I didn't g-"
"Don't worry about it, no need for any of that."
You turn around, cocking your head to the side. Dean confidently smiles. But you know him well enough. You can tell.
"I'm just fucking with you." The second those words are processed, a grin takes over Dean's face and he laughs, nervous and excited.
"You got me, little goose. Now where's my christmas present?" Your brother rubs his hands together eagerly, but he stops when devilish smirk appears on your face. He really thought it'd be that easy?
"Where's the fun in that? It's somewhere around the house." You turn on your heels, chest puffed up and triumphant. Gotcha' Dean. "Summon me when you find it. Merry Christmas, D."
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I just wrote this reeeally quickly so i'm sorry if there are any incoherences. I'll make sure to reread it when i have the time. I hope yall enjoyed iit. Peace and kissies. ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀
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mlovesstories · 2 years
Text
Nightgown
Nightgown 
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Prompt from HERE
Summary: Dean has a rough night, but little sister is there to help. 
WC; nothing
“No. No. NO!”
Dean tossed and turned, gasping for air. 
“Bub?” His little sister walked slowly into his room. “Oh, no.” She tucked her blanket under her arm.  
YN took in the scene of her brother begging for something, but she didn’t know what. Seeing his eyes scrunched closed, she turned the lights on. His nightmare wouldn’t let go of him. YN walked to him and nudged him softly. 
“Dean,” she said loudly but calmly. YN stroked his arm, “Bub, you gotta wake up.” 
“Huh?” 
“You okay, Dean?” YN rubbed her eyes, Dean feeling guilty that she woke up because of him.  
“Yes, I am okay.”  He sat up and saw his six year-old sister in her nightgown.  He opened his arms to her.  “Just a bad dream, that’s all.” 
YN walked to him and let him tuck her into his chest. 
“Thanks for checking on me, sweetheart.  Will you stay with me tonight?” He smiled.  
“Okay,” YN squealed.  “I need my stuffie, hold on!” 
He laughed as she ran back and in and landed on his bed.  
“You can be my stuffie tonight, okay?”
“Okay, bubby.”
Forevers: 
@katymacsupernatural  @unicornblood4ever  
@fangirl-moment-x  @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl
@super100012  @percywinchester27  @waywardsuns  @supernatural-jackles  
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@seality​​​​​ @jaycc7983​​​ @luci-in-trenchcoats​​​
@cherryblossomflowers​​ @because-you-never-know-when​
@sleepylunarwolf​ @choosemyname​
@internationalmusicteacher​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​
@encounterthepast​  @torn-and-frayed​
@giggles1026​ @xiumin-girl99​
@mangueweaschester​
@idksupernatural​  @silverstripe101a​
@thevelvetseries​ @samsgirl93​   @supernatural3002​ *
* @breereadsthings​ *
@vicmc624​ @hookedinto-fictionalworlds​   @beatifuldisaster018​
@miraclesoflove​ @myopiamystical​ 
@waywardnewcomer​  
@akshi8278​  
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