#Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Not That Bad

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you break your ankle, but the boys don’t think it’s that bad.

Warnings: broken ankle, a bit of angst then fluff

“C’mon kid, move, we’re in a rush.” Dean was breathing down your neck on the way into the bunker, eager to get to the weapons room.

The three of you had been in the library all day, and he’d finally found the book telling you how to kill a dybbuk. Now that the reading part was over, Dean was eager to get to the killing part.

In your rush to get down the stairs, you stepped on your own shoelace. Your stomach twisted as you started to fall forwards. Miraculously, you managed to bend your knee in time and catch yourself on one foot. Less miraculously, your ankle twisted as soon as it hit the hard ground, and you cried out as you fell sideways, landing on your back.

Your ankle throbbed, and your first instinct to grab it turned out to be a mistake that you paid for with another stab of pain.

“Whoa, hey easy,” Dean said, kneeling next to you. “You ok? You mighta sprained it.”

“It’s—I think it’s broken,” you whimpered. Your leg was shaking, and you couldn’t make it stop.

“What?” Dean scooped you into his arms, taking care with your injured foot—but not as much care as you wished he would. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He took you to your room, and you forced back your tears while he set you on your bed.

“Dean, I mean it, it really hurts, I think—“

“Look, we’ve got a monster to kill, so please—just don’t overreact here. Sam’ll get you some ice, and after we get back I’ll bring you some pie or something, ok?”

“De-“ you choked on your tears before you could get more words out, but it didn’t matter anyway; Dean wasn’t listening.

“Take care kid, we’ll be back.”

Sam stepped in a minute later with an ice pack, but he was just as distracted.

“I’ll take a look again when we get back,” he promised, putting the ice pack on your ankle with barely a glance. “Just stay off it, ok?”

Like he had to tell you. You couldn’t have stepped on it even if you wanted to, but neither of your brothers had bothered to look at it long enough to know that.

“Sam—“ you tried one last time, but all you got for it was—

“Just rest up, I promise I’ll get you some pain meds and some chocolate.”

—and then the door was closed, and your brothers were gone.

…

It didn’t take long for you to realize the problem. Within minutes of your brothers’ departure, you could tell your foot was swelling, and some of the skin above your sock was turning purple.

Keeping your shoe on was agonizing, so you reached down with shaking fingers to undo the laces. Once they were loose, you gripped the heel of your shoe, gritting your teeth to keep from screaming when pain shot through your foot. You yanked your shoe off, hoping it would be like ripping off a bandaid. You couldn’t hold back a whimper, and pain pulsed in your foot for several minutes, and it was all you could do to keep breathing.

Your foot was stretching out your sock and still swelling, so after a few minutes of pained breathing, you reached down and gripped the edge of your sock.

You took a deep breath to steel yourself and closed your eyes tightly. Since taking your shoe off didn’t go over so well, you decided to take your sock off more carefully. Inch by agonizing inch, you slid your sock off, not even bothering to muffle your grunts of pain. No one was around to hear it anyway.

Tears were streaming down your face by the time your sock was on the floor, and you were all but certain that you’d blacked out at least once. Once the sock was off, you could see that your foot was an ugly purple-and-green combo.

You grabbed the bag of ice that Sam had gotten you and laid it across your foot. You hissed in pain, then slowly relaxed against your pillows.

The day ticked away, and the pain only got worse. Eventually you got hungry, but there was nothing you could do about it unless you wanted to hop to the kitchen and risk further injury. So you waited.

You thought about calling or texting your brothers, but you didn’t want to be told you were overreacting again. Besides, you didn’t want to distract them from their hunt—distractions could be fatal.

So you suffered through the day and half the night, starting to get worried about your brothers’ whereabouts at around one in the morning. The worries were quickly followed by the sound of the bunker door slamming shut, and footsteps inching towards your room.

Your door creaked open—it was Sam checking in on you. But he looked surprised to see you sitting up with the lights on, like he’d thought you would be able to turn them off. Then his eyes wandered down to your foot, and a small gasp left his lips.

“Dean!” He called out. You could hear Dean grumbling from down the hall.

“What happened to, ‘be quiet, Dean,’ and ‘don’t wake the—‘“ Dean stopped his griping the moment he swung the door open and got a look at you. Or more specifically, your foot.

“Jeez, kid,” Dean sucked in air between his teeth, grimacing at you as he stepped up next to your bed. “That looks like crap.”

“No kidding,” you grumbled. Between the pain and the hunger, he was lucky you weren’t screaming at him.

“We should get you to a doctor,” Sam cut in. “You coulda texted.”

“And get told I’m overreacting again?” You scoffed. That shut them up. Your brothers shared a look, guilt flashing between them like a tractor beam.

“Are we going or what?” You snapped before they could bother trying to stumble out stupid apologies disguised as jokes. They were never very big on feeling-sharing, and if they tried it would probably only make you angrier.

Dean’s the one who carried you to the impala, Sam trailing behind with his head drooping like a scolded puppy. You didn’t say anything; letting them stew in their own guilt was oddly satisfying.

Dean set you down in the impala with the utmost care—you didn’t know if he was worried or feeling guilty, but you didn’t really care.

“We shoulda listened,” Dean said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Sam piped in.

“Noted.”

The silence hung awkwardly, the boys sharing another glance.

“But you’re still mad.” Dean wasn’t asking.

“You spend thirteen hours with a swelling foot and no way to eat, and see if you’re a little grumpy after,” you snapped.

“I’ll get you some food,” Sam cut in, obviously trying to deescalate. “Whatever you want, after Dean takes you in to the doctor.”

“Anything?”

A slow grin found its way onto Sam’s face. He knew he was forgiven—or at least he would be when he fed you.

“Anything.”

…

After your foot had been set in a cast and you’d plowed your way through way too much food—which Sam had seemed surprised at, but too scared to comment on—you finally started to be a little nicer to your brothers.

“It’s never gonna happen again. We’ll listen next time.”

A sly smirk was making its way onto your face.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked.

“It’s means you’re kind of a bonehead.”

“Bonehead? How about you—“

The bickering blended together in Sam’s mind as he trailed behind his siblings, smiling softly.

Yeah—you would be just fine.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle

[musubi05]

Could you do a actress reader who plays winchesters sister where she comes into the dressing room and everything looking pale and overwhelmed but plays it off to jared and jensen that’s she fine (even though they don’t believe her) then they go to film a scene and she ends up passing out

╰┈➤ Acting Fine

Jensen Ackles x actress!reader (platonic)

Jared Padalecki x actress!reader (platonic)

Summary: You felt off today but you didn't bother on checking for a fever. You regretted it instantly after the scene you caused. Warnings: Passing out and hospitals

The minute you woke up from your dream, you knew something was wrong. It wasn't just the pounding in your skull or the desperate thirst that had you downing nearly two bottles of water. It was the heaviness that wrapped around your body like lead, the kind of ache that lingered deep in your bones. Even the comforting darkness of the trailer, usually your safe place, didn't help.

Still, you pushed yourself up from the bed, wincing as the movement sent a pulse of pain through your head. The past two days have been rough with filming. Rough to the point where sleeping in the trailer was easier for you instead of going to one of the boys or your house. Today was supposed to be a big one. A lot of the episode centered around your character and her brothers, a rare opportunity for the three of you to dig deep emotionally. You'd been looking forward to it, even rehearsed your lines twice last night despite the pounding in your head. You didn't want to let them down.

Dragging yourself to the tiny bathroom in the trailer, you began the slow process of brushing your teeth and hair. Even that felt like lifting weights. Every movement required effort, every light you flicked on felt like staring directly into the sun. The fatigue in your limbs wasn't normal. Neither was the buzzing in your ears, like someone had turned up the static in your brain.

Still, you didn't dare look in the mirror. Not because you were afraid of what you'd see, but because you already knew - you looked as bad as you felt. You were about to step out when something caught your eye: a coffee cup with a breakfast sandwich placed on the mini kitchen counter. Your favorite. The kind of sandwich you usually inhaled before your coffee even had a chance to cool. But just the smell of it this morning turned your stomach.

Next to the food was a note:

Good morning, kiddo. Got you your favorite. We'll be in the dressing room waiting for you. - your favorite person

P.S. your favorite person is me, right? - Jar

P.S.S. Don't listen to him. We all know it's me. - Jen

The corners of your lips curved a little bit as you could practically hear their voices in the note. You didn't have the heart to throw the food out, so you gently placed it in the mini fridge. But you grabbed the coffee anyway. Maybe the caffeine would do something. Anything.

The morning air felt cold as you stepped into the dressing trailer, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow on your pale skin. You barely glanced at your reflection as you set your coffee down with a trembling hand, hoping neither Jared nor Jensen would notice how off you felt. Of course, that was wishful thinking.

You can feel their worried stares watching you as you make your way over to the closet to get your outfit. Jared sitting on the couch already looking like Sam was the first to speak up. "Morning, Y/n. I see you saw the food."

You put on the best smile you can hold right now. "Yeah I did. It was delicious." You set the outfit down on an empty chair. "The note was funny too."

Jensen chuckled a little bit from his makeup chair. "I am your favorite right?"

"Uh, I'd like to object. I'm obviously the best." Jared said with his finger pointing up like a nerd.

"I don't know how you guys aren't related." You rolled your eyes and went to the bathroom to change. You went slower than usual making sure that you don't get too dizzy. After getting your clothes on you, splashed some warm water on your face hoping that it'll help wake you up. You stared down at the sink a little longer before going back out there.

"Hey, Zabrina had to run out to go get something but she'll be back soon." Jensen reported to you. As he walked by he rested his hand on your shoulder going for the couch next to Jared but stopped instead. "Are you feeling okay?"

You forced a laugh, waving him off like it was nothing. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't sleep much. Long night." It sounded believable enough, but inside, you felt like you were unraveling. Your chest was tight, your limbs shaky, and there was a strange buzzing in your ears that hadn't gone away since you woke up. Still, you couldn't afford to be the one who slowed things down. You sat down on your chair and straightened your shoulders, hoping Zabrina would do enough to hide the shadows under your eyes.

Jared glared at you through the mirror but you didn't stare back. Instead, you pulled out your phone and looked through Instagram trying to look distracted. The only thing distracting you was the pounding in your head.

Soon, Zabrina did come back with a few new makeup tools and started with you right away. Charmaine also came in and made sure your hair was good for the cameras in the messy bun your character always have. Jensen and Jared kept doing the talking as you kept quiet and listened. You'd mostly join in on the conversations but you were too tired to care enough.

"Girly, are you doing okay? You're pretty warm." Zabrina asked but in a low whisper as she put the brushes down.

You shook your head with an innocent smile. Your eyes big as if you didn't know what she was talking about. "All good. It might just be the layers of this costume." That wasn't really a lie. There were lots of layers for the scene today sense it was supposed to be taking place outside in the middle of the night. Anyone would feel a bit warm in this.

She just nod her head and dismissed you. You got out of your seat a bit too fast - your eye sight turns into a fuzzy black and gray blur. You held onto the counter for some support, having to blink away the clouds in your eyes.

"Hey, you sure you're doing okay?" Jared asked. Jensen immediately got up, ready to dive if you fell.

You stood up straight and grabbed the coffee cup. "Never better. You guys are such worry-warts. Don't you guys get a bit dizzy when you stand up too fast?"

"No... not really." Jared says as if you asked him if the sky was purple. Jensen stood there just watching you walking out the trailer with a smile on your face.

Jared was about to follow you immediately but Jensen put a hand on his chest to prevent him from moving. "Let's keep an eye on her," he said quietly. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Jared let out a breath of air and patted Jensen on the back before catching up to you.

The bunker set was warm under the studio lights, the familiar hum of equipment and crew bustling around offering some strange comfort. The cameras rolled, and you fell into character as the long-lost Winchester sister, standing firm beside her brothers in the face of another supernatural threat. You could do this. You'd done it a hundred times before.

Jensen said his line then Jared delivered his. You said yours better than you thought you would. No hesitation. No stutter. Maybe today wasn't going to be bad. It's just some dialogue and walking around, not some crazy fight scene.

A few hours later, you guys have gotten through some scenes. Was it easy? No. You wanted to go in the bathroom and throw up sometimes. You tried to drink water but your stomach hated every drop for some reason. The twists and turns it made when you walked over to the little snack table was painful. Yet, you still held back from asking for a break or telling someone something's wrong. Jensen and Jared mostly called for the breaks. You didn't want everyone to think your overreacting and make their day any longer.

This scene now might be the end of you. It feels like gravity is your worse nightmare with how hard it's holding you down. You can feel your body get colder by every word that was spoken. Right as Jensen delivered his line and Jared stepped toward you in the scene, the world suddenly tilted. Your vision blurred, black creeping in from the edges. You swayed, tried to focus, but the sound faded to a distant echo.

Voices swirled in and out like waves, too muffled to make sense. For a moment, you weren't even sure where you were. The familiar scent of the set - dust, wood, faint cologne - was replaced by antiseptic and something cold pressed against your forehead.

"Y/N!" Jared lunged forward, catching you just before your head hit the floor. The camera operator cursed and the director called cut, but no one moved until they saw you weren't getting up.

"Call a medic!" someone yelled.

Jensen was immediately kneeling beside you, helping Jared lower you gently. "She's burning up," Jensen muttered, panic creeping into his voice. "Y/n, hey - come on, open your eyes."

You didn't respond.

⛧

You were unconscious, curled under a blanket with cold compresses pressed to your forehead and neck. Your lips were pale, skin still clammy, but your breathing had evened out a little.

Jared paced the length of the room, chewing the inside of his cheek raw. Jensen sat beside you, barely blinking as he watched for any movement.

"I should've said something earlier," Jared muttered, stopping by the sink. "I saw it. She looked terrible when she walked in."

"We both saw it," Jensen said. "She told us she was fine. We should've known better."

"Yeah, but she's like us, man. She doesn't want to be the reason anyone has to stop production."

Jensen nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's what scares me."

The silence hung heavy between them.

Then your fingers twitched.

You blinked slowly, your eyes adjusting to soft lighting overhead. Not set lighting. Fluorescent, clinical. The medic trailer.

"Hey - hey, she's waking up." Jared's voice, low but urgent, tugged you fully into consciousness. You turned your head toward the sound, wincing at the pounding in your skull.

Jensen appeared in your field of vision, crouched next to the cot with a furrowed brow and that rare look of real fear in his eyes - the kind you'd only seen when something unscripted happened on set. "Hey. Easy," he said gently. "Don't move too fast."

"What…?" your voice came out hoarse. You tried to sit up, but Jensen's hand was already on your shoulder, steady and firm.

"You passed out," Jared said quietly, standing just behind Jensen with his arms crossed and his expression unusually serious. "Mid-scene. Scared the hell out of everyone."

Your brows knit as you processed that. The last thing you remembered was Jared stepping toward you in character, and then… nothing.

"I told you I was fine," you murmured, half in defense, half in shame.

Jensen let out a slow breath, something tight in his posture finally easing - just a little. "Yeah, well, you're a shitty liar."

Jared nodded, his jaw tense. "You should've said something instead of just 'fine'. You looked off the moment you walked in."

"I didn't want to screw up the schedule," you whispered, your throat tightening - not just physically. "We've already been behind and-"

"Hey." Jared cut you off, his voice softer now as he moved closer. "You don't screw things up by being human. You're not just a character, alright? You're you."

Jensen glanced at the medic, who gave a small nod and stepped out, leaving the three of you in a moment of quiet that felt heavier than any scene you'd filmed.

"You were burning up fast. You were probably running a fever all day." Jensen added, every word filled you with embarrassment. You couldn't believe you had passed out in front of everyone.

You looked between them, tears burning behind your eyes, but you blinked them back. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Jared said. "Just… don't do that again. If something's wrong, say something. We've got your back. You don't have to carry stuff alone - on-screen or off."

Jensen sat back, rubbing a hand down his face. "Okay, so you're gonna rest, and then we'll talk about how you face-planted in the most dramatic way possible."

You gave a weak laugh, and for the first time all day, it didn't feel forced.

"Deal," you whispered.

"Oh also," Jensen smiled as he pulled a bag and a water bottle from the ground, "your sandwich, missy."

You groaned, knowing where this is going. "Jen, I don't think I can eat anything right now."

"Just a few bites to get something in you. Please?" Jensen asked.

"Don't make me use the puppy eyes." Jared warned. Those damn eyes. They'll always be lethal. You reached your hand out flat and Jensen placed the bag in your hand. You slowly and unwillingly took a bite of the sandwich.

"That's our girl." Jensen smiled and ruffled your hair softly.

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

❤️

One Year Later

Summary: you sit at Sam's grave after the fight with Lucifer and Castiel.

WC: 496

Warnings: Angst, Post S5 Finale

Read on ao3!

The cemetery was quiet. Still. The kind of still that only ever came in the lull between storms, in the moments when the world held its breath and didn’t quite know what to say.

The sky above was heavy with thick clouds, just on the edge of rain. You knelt in front of the headstone, one hand brushing away the few stubborn leaves that clung to the marble.

Samuel Winchester 1983 — 2010 "He chose the world."

Your fingers traced the words you’d insisted be carved there. Dean had argued for something simple. Bobby had gone silent and turned away. But you had stood your ground, even when your voice trembled. Because if anyone deserved to be remembered for more than the war, it was Sam. Sam, who had been soft despite the blood on his hands. Sam, who had chosen to die for people who would never know his name.

“I should’ve gone with you,” you whispered, voice hoarse from disuse. “You didn’t even give me the chance.”

You sat back on your heels, blinking slowly at the headstone as though expecting him to answer. Like maybe, if you were quiet enough, he’d reach out again. A ghost. A voice in your ear. A brush of warmth on your shoulder.

But there was nothing.

Not this time.

“You always had this way of making me feel like things could be okay. Even when they really, really weren’t,” you said, a small laugh cracking through your grief. “And then you just… left. No goodbye. No note. Just Dean, standing in front of me, shaking his head. Like it wasn’t a choice. Like you’d already made it and we didn’t get a say.”

Your voice broke.

“I would’ve gone down there with you. I would’ve followed you into the Pit.”

The wind stirred around you, gentle. Cold. Like a hand running along your spine. You closed your eyes.

“It’s been a year,” you said. “Dean’s trying. I think. Sometimes he looks like he’s going to break in half and I don’t know how to help him. I think he’s mad at you. I think I am too.”

You took a breath.

“But I miss you more than I could ever be angry.”

Silence answered. Not cruel. Not indifferent. Just… silence.

You reached into your coat pocket and pulled out a worn leather journal. His. Pages still folded with old notes and lore scrawled in messy handwriting.

You placed it at the foot of the grave.

“I couldn’t keep it anymore. It felt too much like holding my breath.”

A raindrop landed on your sleeve. Then another. You didn’t move.

“I love you, Sam,” you whispered. “Still.”

The wind picked up again, and just for a moment, you swore you felt warmth on the back of your neck. A whisper of breath. The echo of a voice that once said your name like a promise.

Then it was gone.

And you were alone again.

But not empty.

Not quite.

--

\\PLEASE REBLOG!//

[inlovewhithafairytale]

POV: Dating Dean Winchester....

[samsblades]

SUPERNATURAL M.LIST all works are gender neutral, reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated !! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI WITH MY NSFW CONTENT. YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!! all nsfw fics are clearly labeled MDNI, this applies to ageless blogs. p for platonic! f for fluff, a for angst, h/c for hurt/comfort, s for smut, su for suggestive!

SAM WINCHESTER

DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ something about being close | 9.5K, a, f ⟢ makes you wonder | 5.2K, f ↳ ⟢ part two : now you know | 6.8K, f, h/c ⟢ better than a sight for sore eyes | 1K, su, MDNI ⟢ take my breath away | 13.7K, a, f, h/c ⟢ give and take | 0.7K, f ⟢ warm brown jacket | 1.3K, f ⟢ you’d dance with me? | 1.4K, f ⟢ three seconds | 1.2K, f ⟢ literary parallels | 3.6K, a, f ⟢ this is real, it’s right | 3K, h/c ⟢ my boy only breaks his favorite toys | 10.6K, a ↳ ⟢ part two : to leave him with love | 8K, a ⟢ forget-me-nots | 5.6K, f ⟢ but daddy i love him | 11.3K, a, f ⟢ some other time |1.1K, f ⟢ just an observation | 1.3K, f ⟢ hold me, it’s enough | 1.6K, h/c ⟢ breathe, baby | 4.1K, s, f, MDNI ⟢ only got eyes for you | 2.7K, f ⟢ dead eyes | 2.4K, h/c ⟢ abstract (psychopomp)| 1.9K, h/c, a ⟢ love you again| 2K, f, h/c ⟢ motel room, 10:00 p.m. | 545, f, h/c ⟢ book shop, 12:00 p.m.| 515, f ⟢ motel shower, 12:00 a.m. |629, h/c ⟢ cabin, 3:17 a.m.| 658, h/c ⟢ campus library, 7:00 a.m.| 658, f ⟢ the impala, 4:00 p.m.| 608, f, h/c, p ⟢ drooling honey | 1.1K, s, MDNI ⟢ our girl | 1.2K, s, MDNI, w/jess ⟢ i got you | 4.1K, s, MDNI ⟢ you can take it | [tfem!sam]. 1.3K, s, MDNI ⟢ worship you | 1.5K, s, MDNI ⟢ my hands are yours | 2.8K, h/c ⟢ sweet smile | 1.9K, f ⟢ noticed | 1.1K, h/c ⟢ soft 'n sleepy | 1.3K words, s, f, MDNI ⟢ like a miracle | 1.1K, f ⟢ laundry machines | 1.7K, f ⟢ love you like that | 783, f ⟢ the object of his affections | 1K, f ⟢ in the morning | 959, f ⟢ smirking and butterflies | 783, f ⟢ blabbermouth | 845, h/c ⟢ no one else here | 908, f ⟢ ruined (not really) | 1.4K, f ⟢ green couch | 898, f ⟢ sweet potatoes |1.2K, f ⟢ hallway hardwood floors | 676 f, su

continued ! bc theres a character limit for a block of text :( ⟢ natural | 5.3K, f, s, MDNI ⟢ liked it too | 1.9K, s, MDNI ⟢ just a little bit | 1.7K, s, MDNI ⟢ lucky charm | 1.4K, f ⟢ deep satisfaction | 1.5K, s, MDNI ⟢ just because | 8K, f, s, MDNI ⟢ spring, honey, forest, etc. | 644, f ⟢ quiet comfort | 1K, h/c ⟢ chamomile tea | 2.4K, h/c, p

HEADCANONS ⟢ random boyfriend hcs | 1.6K , f ⟢ nsfw boyfriend hcs | 1.6K, s, MDNI ⟢ pirate!au | 1.1K, f, a ⟢ with adhd!reader | 0.8K, f ⟢ with talkative!reader | 0.7K, f ⟢ fake-dating!au | 1K, f ⟢ with angel!reader | 2.4K, f ⟢ tfem!sam x tmasc!reader | 1.3K, f

FAKE TEXTS ⟢ gen z younger sibling | f, humor, p ↳ ⟢ part two | f, humor, p ⟢ librarian!reader | f ⟢ suggestive w/sunshine!reader | su, MDNI ⟢ memes from sunshine!reader | f, humor

౨ৎ

DEAN WINCHESTER DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ the language of love isn’t dead | 2.4K, f, a ⟢ flower shop, 11:00 a.m. | 644, f ⟢ gas station, 3:04 a.m. | 615, h/c, p

HEADCANONS ⟢ best friend!dean | 1K , f, p

౨ৎ

BOTH DRABBLES / ONESHOTS (all platonic) ⟢ sorry won’t cut it (rewrite) | 4.1K, a, h/c ⟢ broken, fine for tonight | 1.3K, h/c ⟢ easy, maybe | 3K, h/c ⟢ safe now | 1.4K, h/c

HEADCANONS (all separate) … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

RUBY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ abandoned church, 5:30 a.m. | 540, f ⟢ cry for me | 1.2K, s, MDNI ⟢ lick it better | 1.2K, s, MDNI ⟢ indulge | 1.2K, f ⟢ real cute | 3.5K, s, MDNI ⟢ don't mind | 597, a

HEADCANONS ⟢ girlfriend hcs | 1.3K, f

౨ৎ

CHARLIE BRADBURY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ make you feel so good | 1.K, s, MDNI

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

JO HARVELLE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ so pretty | 1.7K, s, MDNI ⟢ hooked | 1.6K, s, MDNI

HEADCANONS ⟢ girlfriend hcs | 1.6K, f

౨ৎ

JESSICA MOORE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ our girl | 1.2K, s, MDNI, w/sam

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

ROWENA MCLEOD DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ whiskey wanting | 1K, su, MDNI

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

© SAMSBLADES 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. COPYING, TRANSLATING, AND REPOSTING IS PROHIBITED.

[redbird-tf]

All you need

Dean Winchester x toddler sister reader x sam Winchester

Synopsis; As your 4th birthday approaches, all you want is to spend it with your dad. But when he shows up only to leave again, it’s your big brother who proves he’s all you truly need.

Word count: 2.7k

Notes: reference the gif for the main scene

Warnings; daddy issues, daddy issues

“Da!”

“Da!”

You tugged at Dean's pant legs, desperate to grab his attention. Across the table, Sam looked up from his book to Dean and let out an exaggerated cough, “Dean i think she wants you” he remarked. “then she can say my name” he replied flatly without looking up from his journal. Sam shook his head“Add ‘unavailable brother’ to her therapy list” Sam muttered under his breath. Dean rolled his eyes, then finally turned his chair to face you. He leaned forward and tapped his chest in emphasis “De or dean.” He enunciated firmly. “Not ‘da’ not ���dad’. Dean”

You stared at him with those wide, doe-like eyes. “de…” you repeated softly. “Yes, y/n?” He asked, His tone losing its edge. “I want color, and TV” you demand excitedly, yanking at his jeans. “Alright, I’ll grab you your colors,” Dean said, standing from his chair. Once you were settled in front of the TV with your Scooby color book Dean returned to the table. Sam, who had silently watched the exchange, let out a chuckle. “what?” Dean irritatedly questioned. “I just don't get why it's such a big deal to you” Sam commented. Dean exhaled sharply, trying to keep his voice low. “She knows I'm not dad, Sam.” his patience was wearing thin. “Does she?” Sam hesitated “She sees you a lot more than dad”. “Then why doesn't she call you dad? your with her as much as i am” Dean scoffed, roughly shutting his journal. Sam raised a brow “Because i was at Stanford for the first year of her life” Dean couldn’t argue and remained silent. His gaze wanders to you, engrossed by cartoons, oblivious to the conversation happening behind you.

Sam let out a heavy sigh, following Dean's gaze towards you. “Her birthday tomorrow…” his voice was laced with concern. “I know.” Dean mumbled, “you think Dad remembers?” Sam practically whispered. Dean's jaw tightened “He said he’d be back by tomorrow” Deans tone was flat, rehearsed almost. “Thats not what-“ “i don't know Sam” Dean snapped, his chair scraped against the hardwood as he stood abruptly. Without another word he turned and walked out the door, leaving Sam alone with his unspoken thoughts.

Dean's hand dragged down his face as his chest rose and fell. “Hey y/n” he heard Sam's voice call from inside. “Hi, Sammy”. Confused, he glanced over his shoulder to see the window he cracked open earlier. He hesitantly inched closer, peaking in through the blinds. Inside Sam was now sitting with you in front of the TV. You hadn’t even bothered to look up from your coloring book as you greeted him. Sam watched you for a moment “Y/n why do you call Dean dad?” Sam asked carefully. The scratching of crayons against thick paper had suddenly stopped. You shrugged dismissively “i don't know,” you said, unnaturally high-pitched. Sam knew there was something you weren’t telling him. Sam studied you and chose his next words carefully. “You know deans our brother right?”. Your shoulders slumped and your lips formed a pout.

“But… he acts like the dads on TV…” you mumbled. Sam let the silence sit, hoping you'd say more. “He's always here, he's strong, he loves me…” your voice wavered and before Sam could react, tears started to pool in your eyes. “Ok ok, I'm sorry bug, no need to cry” Sam cooed, swiftly scooping you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles into your back. After a moment Sam moved to cradle your face in his large hands, before speaking “you know brothers can do that too” he spoke gently, not wanting to upset you again. “Really?” You asked, blinking at him with those big round eyes, that never failed to make Sam's heart melt. “He’ll always be here, even when dad can't” Sam replied with a smile. His smile quickly faded when your pout had no intention of turning upside down like something was weighing you down. “What's wrong?” He asked with furrowed brows.

“Does Daddy remember my birthday tomorrow?” Sam’s heart shattered. Outside the window, Dean's head dropped. Guilt gnawing at him. he felt like he was already failing you, he was supposed to protect you from those thoughts. Sam wouldn’t shield their father’s image for you like Dean would, he couldn’t lie to you. “i don't know” Sam admitted, his voice cracking. His arms opened out to you again, waiting for you to seek comfort. But you didn't move. You stayed planted in his lap. “Dos dean….?” Your voice wavered, thick with sadness. “Of course he does” was quick to reply. “Because he's my brother” you mumbled, sam couldn’t tell if that was a statement or question but nodded his head anyway. “Because he's your brother” he repeated, lifting you gently off the floor. He pressed a kiss to your temple and held you close. “Let's get you to bed”

—————

You began to stir, the sunlight was bleeding warmth into the room and the birds chirping soothed you softly from your rest. With a yawn, You pushed yourself upright, rubbing the sleep from your heavy eyes. The faint voices caught your attention. Blinking away the last trace of sleep you turned your head. “Daddy!” You shouted, your eyes had landed on John who stood in the middle of the room between the brothers. Their conversation had halted, watching you dart towards John. “Hey kid” a rare smile tugged at his lips, as he swept you up into his arms. You wrapped yourself tightly around him“It's my birthday!” You announced. “The big 4” he added. Your smile widened, he remembered. “Do i get a gift?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side. “You know i was a little busy, but….” his hand began to rummage around in his pocket. “But this will get you whatever you want” he stated handing you a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. Sam rolled his eyes, a quiet scoff escaping him. John lowered you back to your feet “Now why don't you go play? i need to talk to your brothers” You nodded eagerly at his request, clutching the bill in your hand before scurrying off.

You had decided to occupy your time with more TV, letting their voices become background noise. Until the familiar creak of the door hinges caught your attention. The three of them were walking out the door, with their backs turned to you. You scrambled to your feet, to meet them in the parking lot. “Daddy! Where are we going?” You called out, your small feet smacking against the pavement. They hadn’t even noticed you following them. “I've gotta go to work baby” he explained crouching to your level. You frowned “But it's my birthday!” You nagged with a stomp of your foot. You tugged at his shirt and began to beg. It didn’t matter what he was saying-you just wanted him to stay. Your tantrum wore thin on John's patience “This is more important” he snapped, prying your hands from his collar with a sharp jerk. Your lip trembled uncontrollably, and before the first tear could fall you turned your heel. You ran back to the room, shoving past Sam when he tried to hold you. Sam turned back to face his dad with a cold stare. John returned the glare “Don't give me that look” John warned. “Dean help me with the bags” he ordered. Dean nodded, silently he grabbed a bag and followed their father to the truck.

John closed the tailgate with a thud then turned to Dean, his hand gripping his shoulder “Take care of your siblings” Dean nodded with a commonly repeated “yes sir” and turned back to the motel where he saw Sam standing, his arms crossed with a scowl on his face. Dean moved to stand next to him while they both watched John's truck pull out of the lot and disappear down the road. A faint sniffle broke the silence. Dean glanced down and was surprised to see your trembling form wrapped around Sammy's leg. With a sigh, Dean stepped forward, detaching you from Sam and pulling you into his arms. You didn’t resist and rather pressed your body tightly against your big brother's chest. The safest place in the world. His large hand rubs up and down your back while whispering comforting words in your ear. You shifted slightly, your head moved from resting on his shoulder to being tucked beneath his chin.

“You're my real daddy, De,” you said sternly, outweighing the tremble in your voice. Deans jaw clenched. His heart ached for you, for the little girl who had learned far too early what it felt like to be abandoned. There was nothing he could say to fix things, nothing he could do to shield you from the hurt. He just held you tighter, like it was the only thing holding you together. “Can we get McDonalds?” Your voice broke him from his trance and a small chuckle escaped his lips. “I got twenty dollars” you added, holding up the crumpled bill. A genuine laugh rumbled from his chest, shaking the heaviness of the moment. The girl who was just pulling on his heartstrings now wanted nothing more than McDonalds. Your brows furrowed in confusion, widening his smile even more. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I'll get you all the McDonalds you want” he promised, voice steady. Dean couldn’t fix things with their father, but maybe he could be everything you needed.

[alessandra-14]

A slip of the tongue

Dean Winchester x sister!reader and slightly Sam Winchester x sister!reader

Summmery: After a tough hunt, leaving the three hunters bruised and hurt and Dean angry at his little sister. But when she slips up and calls him "Dad," everything shifts.

Warnings: none really

(It's been requested weeks ago but I just now I managed to get it done)

Being raised by two older brother who don't really know what they're doing, may not be to ideal but for Y/N that's all she could have asked for.

Their dad was rarely ever home, usually away on hunt and blinded by the need to revenge his wife. So Dean and Sam had no other choice than to step in and raise her to be a strong smart woman. And she wouldn't trade that for anything in this world.

Like that one time when Dean tried to get her ready for the day.

“Sam, do you know how to braid hair?” Dean asked, frowning at the tangled mess called a ponytail. She was 5, sitting cross-legged on the motel bed, flipping through an old, dog-eared picture book.

“No, but I’m not the one who promised she’d look like a princess today,” Sam shot back, rolling his eyes. He was fifteen, gangly and awkward but always ready to help.

Then Dean also rolled his eyes and glared at his little brother. "You know you don't have to be so sassy all the time Sammy." He sayed in an obnoxiously annoying tone, to which Sam didn't say anything further.

Dean huffed, trying to mimic the motions he’d seen in some movie Y/N had made them watch. “Hold still, kid. You’re gonna look amazing.”

Or that time when both brothers decided to take her to the fair after she had been begging to go there for days.

The fairground lights twinkled and Y/N was full of energy, practically dragged her brothers toward the entrance.

“Dean! Funnel cake first! No, wait—the merry-go-round!” she shouted, her voice rising above the carnival buzz.

“Slow down!” Dean laughed and quickly tried catching up to her. Sam slightly less enthusiastic, rolled his eyes but followed close behind.

They played games. Dean won her a stuffed lion and they shared a funnel cake, When they reached the ferris wheel, Y/N squeezed into the seat between her brothers, resting her head on Dean’s arm.

“This is the best night ever,” she whispered already sleepy and exhausted after this fun night out.

Dean smiled, pulling her close. “Yeah, kiddo. It is.”

But their lives weren't always fun and peaceful. More often than not it was the complete opposite. John's anger, the constand yelling and fighting between Sam and John, the hunting. Oh especially the hunting.

The two brothers were never a big fan of taking her with them on hunts but John insisted she had to learn, so they hadn't much of a choice than to agree. But after seeing how good she actually is at this they decided to let her tag along even after John was long gone.

The Impala’s rumble was a soothing constant, a reminder of safety despite the chaos that had just unfolded. Sam’s face was taut with worry as he pressed a blood-soaked rag against her arm, the gash beneath stinging like fire. Dean’s jaw was clenched as he drove like a mad man, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.

Y/N sat in the backseat, trying not to wince every time the car hit a bump. Blood was soaking through her white shirt, but she knew better than to complain about a piece of clothing at the moment. Even if she really loved that shirt.

The hunt had gone sideways—what a surprise.

Dean and Sam had both sworn to protect their sister at all costs. But lately, she’d been trying to prove she could handle herself, trying to show them she wasn't just the kid tagging along anymore.

It was supposed to be a simple salt-and-burn. Ghosts were her bread and butter. Something relatively easy to handle. But this one had been different. Angry. Vengeful. And ridiculously fast. Before anyone could react, it had slashed at her, sending the girl flying into a set of windows.

“Pull over,” Sam said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was calm but firm. “I need to stitch this up before she loses too much blood. We've wasted to much time so far."

Dean didn’t argue, which was how she immediately could tell he was mad. He pulled into the parking lot of a dingy gas station, threw the car into park, and slammed the door shut behind him as he got out.

Sam turned to his sister, pulling out the first-aid kit. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” she said through gritted teeth.

Sam sighed but didn’t push it. His hands were steady as he threaded the needle and got to work, his murmured apologies lost in the sharp sting of every pull. Y/N tried to focus on the familiar sounds of Dean pacing outside the car, his boots crunching on gravel.

When Sam finished, he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and got out to check on Dean. The girl was alone for maybe thirty seconds before the driver’s side door opened and Dean slid in loudly. He turned to face her, his green eyes scanning her pale and tear struck face and then her bandaged arm.

“You okay, kiddo?”

“I’m fine,” She muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“Fine?” His voice was sharp, edged with frustration and anger. “You know you could’ve died back there.”

She flinched at his firm tone. “I wasn’t trying to get hurt, Dean.”

“You think that matters?” he snapped. “You’re supposed to be careful. You’re supposed to stay back and let us handle it. We know what we are doing!”

“I know what I am doing too and most importantly I’m not a little kid anymore!!”

“Well, you sure as hell act like one sometimes!”

The words hit her harder than she wanted to admit. Y/N looked down at her lap, blinking back tears. She knew he didn’t mean it—not really. Dean was scared. He always got like this when something happened to her or Sam. But that didn’t make it sting any less.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after an intense silence.

Dean sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. His voice softened. “I just—damn it, I can’t lose you. You get that, right? You and Sam… you’re all I’ve got.”

The tears she’d been holding back spilled over, and before she could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

“I know, Dad.”

The silence that followed was definitely awkward.

Her heart sank as soon as she realized what she’d said. “I—I mean, Dean. I didn’t mean. I—”

But he didn’t look angry. His eyes widened for a moment, then softened into something she couldn’t quite place. He reached out, his calloused hand gentle as it gripped her left hand.

“Hey,” he said softly, cutting off her rambling. “It’s okay.”

She looked at him worried and confused, her bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, you did,” he said, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And it’s okay. You’re my kid as much as you’re my sister. Hell you’ve always have been.”

The weight of his words settled over her, warm and reassuring. For the first time since she’d climbed into the Impala, the tightness in her chest loosened even for just a moment.

“Thanks, Dean,” She whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” he said gruffly, though his hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled away. “Just… stop scaring the crap outta me, alright?”

She nodded, a small smile breaking through. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” He started the car, the familiar rumble filling the space and waited for Sam to come back in too. “Now, let’s get you patched up for real. And next time, you’re wearing body armor, I don’t care how stupid it looks.”

Sam climbed back in, raising an eyebrow at the sudden shift in mood but wisely deciding not to comment. As the Impala roared back onto the highway, Y/N leaned her head against the window, a strange sense of peace settling over her.

Dean might not have been her dad in the traditional sense, but in every way that mattered, he was. And now, she didn’t have to pretend otherwise.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

imagine: You’re going through all the emotions of being on your period with your brothers Sam and Dean, but realize you need a little help from Castiel

You were curled up in the weirdest position, trying to find some relief from the waves of pain coursing through your body. The cramps had hit you like a freight train, and no matter how much you tried to shift, nothing made it go away. The moment you woke up, you could tell it was going to be a long day.

As you lay there, gritting your teeth and doing your best not to cry out, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps. Dean’s voice broke through the haze of pain. “You good?” he asked in slight confusion, but for the most part amused. His tone was playful, like he was trying to make light of the position he found you in.

You let out a low groan before snapping at him. “Dean, I swear to God, if you don’t wipe that smirk off your face, I’ll slap it off of you,” you hissed through clenched teeth, practically vibrating from the pain.

Dean stopped in his tracks, his mouth still curled into that damn grin for a second longer. But when he noticed the agony on your face, the smirk dropped, and his expression turned serious. “Damn, what’s up with you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing a hand to your abdomen, trying to ride out the cramps. “I feel like I’m gonna fucking die,” you muttered bitterly, voice thick with frustration and pain.

Dean hesitated for a moment, but then, you felt his hand gently press against your back. His voice was softer. “What’s going on, kiddo?” he asked.

“Cramps,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips. You hated admitting weakness, but there was nothing you could do to hide it.

Dean didn't hesitate. He sat down beside you, gently shifting the pillow from beneath your head and making room for himself to lie next to you. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before speaking again.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and comforting, “I’m sorry you’re hurting, kid. I know I can’t exactly fix this for you, but I can at least stay with you while you get through it. If you need anything, I’m here.”

You let out a shaky breath, your body still aching, but his presence was like a balm to your frayed nerves. His voice, calm and steady, made the storm of pain inside your body seem a little less overwhelming.

“Thanks, Dean,” you murmured, feeling a surprising comfort from his words.

“If you need anything, I’ll be your errand boy. You just say the word.”

Sam wandered into the room at that point, catching the tail end of your exchange. He looked from you to Dean, immediately sensing something was off. “What’s going on?” Sam asked at the same time Dean mouthed period cramps to him behind your back. Dean’s eyes widened immediately, knowing that would set you off.

Before Dean could answer, you snapped, voice sharper now. “I swear, I’m gonna lose it if I have to keep dealing with this.”

Sam frowned, his eyes softening with concern. “You’re in pain, I get it. But take it easy, okay?”

You shook your head, barely holding it together now. “Easy? Easy? This? I can barely even move without feeling like I’m being stabbed repeatedly!” Your frustration bubbled over, and you didn’t even care that you were sounding irrational. The pain made you irrational.

And then, as if all the emotions that had been building up for days exploded, the tears came. They were hot, and they burned as they ran down your cheeks. The pain was too much, and you were just so tired of it.

Dean looked at you, his eyes softening, clearly unsure how to handle you in this state. His usual playful charm had disappeared, and now, he just seemed... concerned. “Hey, hey, come on, don’t cry. We’ll figure this out.”

But all you could think about was the fact that this cycle—this suffering—was something you couldn’t escape. The tears kept coming, and before you even knew it, you found yourself speaking without thinking.

“When we find God, remind me to ask him why the hell he thought it was a good idea to make women suffer like this.” You sniffled between your words, wiping at your eyes. “And if I ever find Eve, I swear, it’s on sight. I don’t care.”

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance before Dean raised an eyebrow. He chuckled softly, though it was a little strained. “You know, kid, I’ve got your back on that. Eve? Totally on sight.”

Sam, though, looked a bit more concerned.

“Y/N,” he started and you could already tell he was going to get all touchy feely and you weren’t exactly in the mood for it. You were actually in the mood to fight someone and thinking about Eve made you seethe.

“Okay, that’s it. I can’t do this anymore,” you cut Sam off muttering through gritted teeth. “I’m calling Cas.”

Both of your brothers’ eyes went wide, clearly startled by your sudden outburst. “Wait, wait—Cas? What are you doing?” Sam asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Dean, ever the protective older brother, had a look of horror. “Uh, you sure that’s a good idea? Cas is... I mean, I get it, but he’s not exactly... helpful when it comes to, you know, cramps and whatever else you’re dealing with. He’s gonna make everything way more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Dean, you have no idea,” you said, sitting up with effort. “You don’t get it. Cas knows stuff. He can probably tell me why the hell we’re cursed with this biological nonsense.”

You were already pulling your phone out of your pocket and texting Castiel without hesitation. Cas, get your grace in here now. I need answers.

Within minutes, the familiar sound of his arrival in the bunker echoed through the hall, and the next thing you knew, he was standing in front of you, his expression confused as ever.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, a little louder than necessary. “Cas! You’re just the angel I need.”

Sam’s face dropped in disbelief. “What are you doing?” he asked again, his voice almost pleading.

Dean sighed and rubbed his temples, but you could tell he was more than amused. “You’re killing me kid.”

You weren’t paying attention to them anymore, already sitting up slightly and glaring at Castiel with an intensity that only a woman going through hell on Earth could possess. “Cas! Maybe you can help me with something. Why did your father want to make me suffer?”

Castiel blinked, as lost as ever. “My father? I don’t—”

You were getting impatient. “God, Cas. I’m talking about periods and the suffering that comes with being a woman. Why did he do that to me?”

Castiel’s brows furrowed, clearly trying to make sense of your words. “I... I’m not entirely sure I understand...”

Sam had his face buried in his hands at this point in utter disbelief. “You really called Cas for this?”

You ignored him, still laser-focused on the angel. “Was it because Eve bit the apple? Because if that’s it, I swear to God, I’m going straight to her. I don’t care. I’m taking it up with her myself.”

You could practically hear Dean choking on his laughter in the background.

Castiel tilted his head, as if he were pondering your words like they were some grand cosmic mystery.

“Eve? The first woman?” he asked cautiously. “Well, yes, technically. Eve’s actions with the apple did cause certain... consequences.”

Your jaw dropped. “So, you’re telling me that because of Eve, I have to suffer through this every month?” You waved a hand at your cramping body in frustration. “Every month, Cas. You have no idea how bad this hurts.”

Castiel blinked again, processing. “Well, yes... it is an unfortunate result of the... fall from grace, so to speak. But, the suffering you feel... it is not a punishment. It is... well, a part of being human.”

You narrowed your eyes, not having the patience for his usual philosophical nonsense. “No, Cas. I don’t want some deep answer about ‘the human condition.’ I want to know where Eve is because I need to have words with her.”

Castiel looked at you like you had asked him to solve the mysteries of the universe. “Uh...”

You leaned in a little closer, determined to get some kind of answer. “Wait—were you even there when Eve was around?”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause, and Castiel’s eyes flickered like he wasn’t sure how to answer. Finally, he spoke up. “Yes, I... I was there. But, I... I don’t believe I ever interacted with her much.”

You stared at him incredulously. “Okay so you didn’t even try to stop her either? So I can technically add you onto the list of people I need to have a word with?”

“Well,” he began, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I wasn’t exactly... allowed to interact with her.”

Sam was standing in the doorway by now, rubbing his eyes. “This is getting out of hand,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow, voice dripping with frustration. “Why do I have to suffer? Why does every woman on this planet have to go through this? I didn’t ask for this, you know?”

Castiel hesitated for a moment, the weight of your frustration clearly sinking in. “I... I will go and find answers for you,” he said, his usual confidence returning in a determined tone. “I will seek out more information on Eve, on why these consequences were set in motion.”

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden promise. “You will? Really?”

Castiel nodded solemnly. “Yes. I will leave now and return with the answers you seek.”

“Okay wait Cas! See if you can reverse it-” But before you could even finish, he disappeared with the familiar flutter of wings.

Sam turned to you with an exasperated sigh. “So... you really just called him and told him to find Eve?”

You nodded, arms crossed over your chest. “Hey, I figure if anyone knows where she’s hiding, it’s Cas. And if he’s going to keep dropping cryptic answers, maybe he can at least help fix this.”

Dean flopped back down next to you on the bed, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Just don’t be mad at me when Cas brings back some ancient scroll saying it was Eve’s fault.”

“I’ll be mad at everyone,” you said with a small laugh. “But mostly Eve.”

Dean gave you a soft smile, the lightheartedness back in his tone, though it was now tinged with a genuine concern. “Well, kid, if I had a magic wand, I’d wave it. But since I don’t, just know I’m here. If you need anything—anything—you know I got you, okay?”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Thanks. I guess... I guess I’ll survive this, somehow.”

Dean grinned, sitting back down on the bed. “That’s the spirit. And hey, if you need a punching bag, Sam’s your man.”

Sam shot him a glare but then softened. “Don’t listen to him.”

You chuckled weakly, your mind desperate for a distraction from the pain. “You know what would make this day a little better?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“Legally Blonde,” you said with a sigh of relief, the thought of a lighthearted movie soothing your mind even if just a little.

Dean’s face lit up. “Sammy’s favorite.” He winked.

“Oh, I know. That’s why I picked it.” You said sending Dean an over exaggerated wink right back.

Sam groaned from the doorway, clearly not impressed. “Seriously, guys? Come on.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Come on, Sammy, I just know your bag was going to be full of pink sparkly pens at law school.”

Dean shot you a playful grin. “He was gonna walk into the courtroom and say, ‘Objection, Your Honor—this is unacceptable!’ and flip his hair dramatically.”

Sam glared at Dean, but it was obvious he was trying not to smile. He shook his head, muttering, “I can't even believe you two are making fun of me for wanting to be a lawyer. But fine, fine, let’s watch Legally Blonde.”

You settled back into the pillows with a satisfied sigh. “Great choice, Sammy. I knew you were cool under all that lawyer talk.”

Sam let out a reluctant laugh. “Alright, alright. But you guys better be ready for The Trial of the Century. Because Elle Woods? She’s gonna win this thing.”

And for the first time in hours, you felt a flicker of joy. It wasn’t about the cramps—it was about the three of you, trying to make light of the situation, and you realized, you’d survive this, one laugh at a time. Oh and hopefully with some answers from Cas!

[ellieslittleburrow]

Resuested by @outof-spite : was wondering if you could do a winchester bros & little sister! reader where theyve been arguing constantly lately, and reader is usually combative and always argues back but, this time shes just over the arguing so she just gives up trying to argue with them and kinda goes mute?

Warnings : family fights, yelling

Pairings : Sam/Dean Winchester x sister!reader

A/N : Sorry for the late postt ❤️❤️

-----

Things happen, right? Misunderstandings, judgement, reproaches and blame, all of them, the worst thing that could happen to a family, more importantly-right now-to yours.

Back from a hunt gone bad, you heavily lay in the backseat of the impala, your feet hung over the left window while your head rests over the opposite side of the car.

"Hey-get your feet off my damn leather." A complaint you've heard one too many times, and one you usually fight but- this time, as a sigh leaves your lips, you uncross your legs and bring them down, consequently lifting your upper body to sit up. An avertion from your side that's different from your usual habits, causing the car to fall into heavily loud silence.

And although it is loud with almost audible thoughts and anger, you still enjoy that while it lasts.

And it fucking doesn't last, in fact, just as soon as you entered the motel, another sentence commenced by Sam sent Dean into a fury, and just as things heated up, you found yourself in the middle of it all-again-

"Hey!!-" The shout is directed at you, this you know and choose to disguard. You would answer but- your body is fatigued and so is our mind, answering seems to lead to no vail. You answer, he fights you, you all go to sleep and wake up forcebly normalizing things, as if your throats aren't sore and your brains aren't fried.

"Hey-i'm talking to you-"

The words sound more bitter this time around, and you find yourself reluctantly lifting your gaze up . You look at Dean, slow and undetermined, exhausted.

"I asked you why you did that-You could've waited for us. I know you said there was no time le-" Dean pauses. "And fucking answer me when i talk to you-"

You shrug, causing a choking gasp out of Dean. His eyes widen and he leans forward. "Are you-Is she provok-are you-"

You throw your jacket over the bed, disdain discerned in your every move and you flop on the bed, unaware of the sudden tension that-again- suddenly settles in.

But the thing is--You don't care anymore. You haven't enough energy to get you to fight them once more, neither to explain or defend yourself. Too damn fucking tired is what you are at the moment-Too damn tired of it all.

"Kid?"

You rest your hand over your forehead, closing your eyes in an effort to soothe your aching muscles, and maybe suck in a little more patience.

"Kid."

Your stomach tightens and soon, you'll recess into a bawling mess, so you get off the bed and pick up your jacket.

Please don't lead to another fight, please..You just want it all to be ov-

"What's wrong?"

You shrug once more, shaking your head to motion that all is fine before heading for the door. But Sam comes your way, blocking the door and you blow a long sigh.

"Come here"

Sam grips both of your arms and swiftly-you find yourself glued to his chest. But all happens all too fast-why would he suddenly get all feely- and before you even realize it, you find yourself pushing against him.

"'im sorry-i'm sorry."

A lump builds up in your throat and as flashes of the past few weeks occupy every single space in your brain, your breathing increases-just as it gets harder to breathe. Just the thought of it all_

Your eyes are slowly flooded with warmth, announcing the tears gathering at your eyes. You need to leave. You need to go.

You choke on a sob.

You can't do this anym- "I know, honey. I've been there. I know." And with that, another sob loudly escapes your throat and a whimper follows.

"i've been there with Dad, i didn't realize we were doing that to you-i'm sorry. I see you. I really am sorry."

You shake your head as your cries fill the room, getting increasingly louder the harder Sam rubs your back. But that's not what you need. Not for them to see you-but for them to fucking stop.

"We'll stop. We'll talk. I promise."

You pull away from him, skeptical of a promise you doubt he can hold. And just as you're about to process that, Dean speaks.

"I'm sorry too." His honest tone makes you sigh. This isn't.what.i.want.

"Sam and i are sort've used to it- we lost sight of the fact that it wasn't affecting just us, but you as well. I really am sorry." Sam looks into your eyes and you slightly lean back, averting your gaze.

"It must've been really stresstful for you the past few weeks." Taken aback by his words, you pull your chin away from his hand and turn around, wiping at your tears before resting your hand against your forehead.

"we're sorry, kid."

You shrug, still mistrusftul. Mistrustful but hopeful. Because Sam and Dean are different, fights and bad things might accure but no matter how disconnected from each other they might be, they always come back to each other. And you are no different. You know them well enough.

Your silence is apprehended as anger. "Okay..We understand, we'll leave."

But it's not anger and it's most certainly not hatred. So you envelop Sam again and bury your face in his chest.

Maybe that'll be enough for him to understand?

His surprise manifests through his still figure. "Thank you, honey." That surprise quickly dissipates and he hugs you back. "It..."

"it's going to be okay, honey. We'll make it okay."

------

I hope it isn't too cringe or too cliché because like-who would say sorry in under a minute. But yeah anyway much love sorry byyiii 🍁🍁🍁❤️❤️❤️

[imbadatwrighting]

𝐇 𝐄 𝐘 𝐉 𝐔 𝐃 𝐄

𝘩𝑒𝑦 𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒, 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑏𝑎𝑑, 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝐒𝐏𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰. 𝐱 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 john winchester was a lot of things, stern, strict, tough, absent. but that didn’t change your view of your father, he was still good to you. so he was a little hard on dean and sam, but with you? he was different. he took care of you… or tried. and yeah, he wasn’t perfect, but he was there. though so was dean. he was the one who made sure you had food, always watching over you, always steady. but dean wasn’t your father. john was. …except he wasn’t really, now was he?

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 coming soon…

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 coming soon…

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 coming soon…

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 coming soon…

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒

𝑛𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑒𝑡…

asks/requests are open for this au and do not have to revolve around the chapters. they can be standalones!

a/n: i am actually so excited about releasing this and i really hope it turns out good 😭 only thing is while i’ll be trying to post quickly, i have depression and currently going through a rough depressive episode so it might take me a little long… so sorry in advance. taglist for this series is open btw! just lmk if you’d like to be added 🫶

© 2025 imbadatwrighting. all rights reserved. original stories by goose. sharing is cool, copying not so much! if you plagiarize… sleep with one eye open.

[myceliumsunshine]

I saw your requests from prompts and so I am here like the inbox genie ✨

I’m thinking a one-shot where Sam learns about one of John’s other kids while Dean is in purgatory, a daughter a lot younger than them. Maybe only born the year John died so 26 years younger than Dean which would make her only 7 or 8. I need Sam to just stumble into her on a hunt and is like “why tf would these things kidnap an 8 year old? Barely enough meat on her bones” but eventually puts it together that she’s a Winchester and that’s why.

How do you think he would handle it. Because I think he would pull every scam in the book to set her up for LIFE. I’m talking trust fund baby level security, getting Cas to ward her bones like he did theirs, and making him swear to never tell Dean she exists (maybe even going as far to cast a spell on Cas so he forgets ever meeting her)

Whatcha think? 👀

Rich Girl - Sam & Dean & Sister!Reader

A/N - hi @zukkaart hope this is what you were looking for! it sort of goes off the rails a bit at the end. fluffy and a little angsty, with a happy (but open) ending. mentions of a vampire attack. Word Count - 1094

The little knock at the door startles Dean. It’s small, hesitant. It can’t be housekeeping, not with the way the person is knocking, and Sam wouldn’t knock. He looks through the peephole, and he doesn’t notice her at first.

A little girl, standing at his door. Dean doesn’t really know anything about little girls, but he thinks she can’t be more than 10 years old. She’s alone, looking annoyed as hell, a little pink tutu attached to her dress.

He opens the door staring at the kid. She furrows her brows, clearly confused.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean’s eyebrows furrow. How does Sam know this 10 year old?

“Sorry?”

“Where’s Sam? Sam Winchester? Or, uh, Sam Smith, maybe Sambora, or Nash?” This 10 year old knows all of Sam’s aliases, but doesn’t know who Dean is. Someone his brother saved while he was in purgatory? The girl saunters in. “I’ll just wait in here then.”

“Wha- you can’t- get out!” Dean spluttered. “What makes you think you have the right?”

“How much?”

“What?”

“How much do you want, to let me stay here and wait?” She pulled out a disney princess wallet out of the glittery pink purse she was carrying, blinking up at him from underneath the pink heart sunglasses. Dean’s eyes widened. He was getting paid off by Sam’s 10 year old.

“Wha-” The voice from the door had both of them turning, and suddenly the girl was in Sam’s arms.

“Sammy!” She squealed.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking down at his sister.

“Well, I ran away from home when that babysitter you paid to stick around got necked by a vamp.” Both Sam and Dean’s eyes widened for different reasons.

“You know this kid, Sam?” Dean asked.

“Your babysitter got necked?” Sam asked. She looked between the men.

“Who’s this guy?” She asked.

“Oh. Uh, this is Dean. Dean, this is…” Sam trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

“Wait. Dean as in Dean?” The little girl asked. Dean raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to be amused or to be confused. He turned to Sam, looking for an explanation.

Sam introduces her, telling Dean her name. “She’s our… uh, half-sister.” Sam explains before turning to the girl, their sister, apparently. “How did you even get here if your babysitter got ganked?”

“I paid a bunch of people to not call the police, and I put a tracker on your phone, which you left here, by the way.” 

“You tracked me? What the hell?!” Sam glared down at the girl.

“Hold on, hold on. Go back. Our half-sister?” Dean finally interjected. Both of his siblings turn to Dean.

“Yes. Do keep up, sweetie.” The girl sassed, and Dean could immediately tell that she’d learnt it from Sam.

“Hey, zip it or else.” Sam warned, eyebrows raising towards the girl. The girl frowned, rolling her eyes, but she kept her mouth shut. It was clear that the two were siblings, siblings who knew each other well. Sam turned back to his brother. “Yes. Right before dad died, he… well, you know. And she’s the result.”

The brother’s turned to look at the girl, who was staring up at them innocently. “What did dad do?”

Dean practically choked, spluttering out a coughing string of excuses as Sam stared at the girl, unimpressed and clearly used to those types of questions. “You’ll kill him, you know.”

“But won’t it be fun?” She grinned widely. Sam rolled his eyes, but was forcing down his own smile.

“No killing your brother.” He said sternly, but the fact that he was close to laughter undermined his point.

“Wait, you paid people?” Dean stuttered. “Where did you get the money from, you’re like, 10.”

“I’m 7 and a half, actually. And Sammy gives me an allowance.” Dean’s eyebrows shoot up as he looks over to Sam.

“An allowance. Also 7? You travelled all the way here from, what? Assbackwards Nowhere, Texas? That’s 14 hours of travel, what, just by yourself?”

“I’m 7 and a half, and I’ve actually been on the road for 4 days, dingus. It’s not like you guys have stayed in the one spot.”

“Even if he is one, don’t call your brother a dingus.” Sam spoke up, once again attempting to be stern and attempting not to laugh at the same time. Dean glared at Sam, then turned back to his half-sister.

“That just further proves my point. How did you get away with this? What kind of allowance has Sammy been giving you?”

“I don’t know, all I know is that he fills up my card at least once a week, and then I’m supposed to take out all the cash I can at the end of the week.” Dean looked over to his brother, an expression of disdain on his face.

“Really? Scams? You set our kid sister up with scams?” Sam narrowed his eyes.

“Well how else was I supposed to set her up? With real money that I earned myself at the big law corporation? Oh wait. I’m not a lawyer. I’m a hunter. Guess who’s fault that is.”

“Seriously, you’re bringing up Stanford? I just spent a year, alone in purgatory. And you didn’t even look for me! You were playing house with a 10 year old and some woman you’d just met.”

“Dean-”

“-I’m actually 7-”

“- I was busy giving our sister a life-”

“-and a half-”

“-like what dad never-”

“Oh, just bring up dad-”

“-gave us. I wanted her to be-”

“-not 10, so-”

“-happy! I wanted her to lead a normal-”

“-you always bring up dad-”

“-life! Is that so wrong?”

“-he was our father!”

“-can we not fight?”

The brothers pause. Turn to their sister. Half-sister. Whatever. Sam runs a hand over her head and pulls her into a little one armed hug.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “Didn’t mean to argue in front of you.”

She shakes her head. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t have to be the peacekeeper. You’re 7-”

“-and a half.”

“7 and a half.” Sam amended with a small smile. “You should be a kid. Not the parent stopping us from fighting.”

She smiled, looking at the ground. Dean was pretty sure it was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen, the small gap in her teeth from where she’d lost a tooth recently making his own smile appear on his face.

“It’s nice to meet you, kid.” She looked up at him, directing the world class smile at him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, big brother.”

taglist - @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

The Safest Place

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, John Winchester & daughter!reader

Synopsis: John has to tell you (4) about monsters, and you don’t take it well

Warnings: none, it’s short and sweet

“And that’s what me and Sammy and Dean do. And that’s why we move around all the time, and why you can’t go to work with me, and…” John swallowed. “Kiddo that’s why you don’t have a mom. Demons took her.”

Dean couldn’t watch. He didn’t even want to listen. He’d wanted to keep you from the truth for so much longer, but you were so much more nosy than Sam had been. You went through John’s journal and asked about all the monster pictures you saw in it, you asked John countless questions about the guns and the newspaper clippings and…and everything. But it was more than that—you were also clingy. Clingy to the point where you’d sneak out and try to follow either John or your brothers when they went out to hunt monsters. After a close call with a vampire where you snuck into the Impala then almost got yourself killed, John decided that enough was enough. You wouldn’t last long in this life unless you had a healthy fear of the supernatural. So that’s what John had to give you.

“What if demons take you?” Your quiet whimper finally had Dean looking up. You were shaking, blinking up at your dad as if waiting for him to say that it was all a joke and monsters weren’t real.

“The demons aren’t gonna take me,” John promised. “That’s why we hunt. So they can’t take anybody else.”

You didn’t respond, so John reached down and picked you up, laying you down on his bed and tucking you in.

“Get some sleep, kiddo.”

…

John fell asleep quickly, but Dean could hear you tossing and turning even as he struggled to settle down himself. He was always the last to fall asleep, and having to share a bed with Sam since there was no pullout couch wasn’t helping.

Because of his insomnia, Dean was the first to hear your feet padding on the motel carpet as you slipped off John’s bed and tiptoed your way over to Dean’s.

“De?” Dean could tell you were crying from just the one syllable. “De, I need help.”

Dean rolled over to see you standing at the edge of his bed, your arms stretched out for him. Dean pulled you up onto the bed without comment, and once his arms were around you you refused to let him go.

“I don’t want the demons to get me, De,” you sniffled.

“Hey—“ Dean tightened his arms around you. “—I’m not gonna let any demons get you, ok?”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Sam whispered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Demons are scary, Sammy,” you whimpered.

“Oh honey…” Sam disentangled you from Dean’s arms and cradled you in his lap.

“How do I fight demons?” You rubbed at your eyes.

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about that,” Dean said. “I don’t ever want you thinking about it. Me and Sammy and Dad are gonna get those demons, ok? Nobody’s ever gonna hurt you.”

“Yeah, and you wanna know what the safest place is?” Sam asked. You nodded firmly. “It’s right about…” Sam laid back down, and Dean followed his lead. “Here.” Sam positioned you in between himself and Dean, tucking you under the covers and keeping one arm over you. You latched onto his arm, your tiny hands wrapping around his fingers.

“Nobody can hurt you here,” Dean promised. “Me and Sammy and Dad won’t let them.”

You reached your hand out for Dean, and he responded by putting his arm over Sam’s, so you had both of your brother’s arms protecting you.

You were asleep in minutes.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[musubi05]

╰┈➤ Left Out

Team Free Will x Winchester's sister!reader

Castiel x platonic!reader

Summary: Sam and Dean have been ignoring you but Castiel still tries to include you.

Warnings: None

Age: 14-16

The bunker felt colder than usual. Not in temperature - no, the heat still hummed through the old pipes and radiators - but in the way people spoke, or didn’t.

You sat in the war room, fingers wrapped around a lukewarm mug of coffee, watching the glow of the map table flicker faintly. Sam and Dean were down the hall, voices low, laughter occasional, but they hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to you in days.

Not since the last hunt went sideways. Not since the salt rounds ran out and Dean had to pull you out of that abandoned house half-conscious. Not since Sam blamed you for missing the sigil that would’ve ended things faster.

You didn’t fight back. You understood. At least, you thought you did.

Still, it hurt.

"You're not invisible."

You turned your head quickly, startled by the voice - low, gravelly, calm. Castiel stood at the edge of the room, trench coat rumpled as always, blue eyes studying you carefully.

“They’re just… processing,” he added. “But that doesn’t make it right to leave you alone.”

You tried to smile. “I’m used to it.”

Cas tilted his head. “That doesn’t mean you should be.”

He crossed the room, pulling out the chair beside you. It creaked under him as he sat, hands folded in his lap like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “I brought something,” he said, suddenly awkward. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, battered paperback book.

“‘The Ballad of Reading Gaol,’” you read from the cover.

“It’s one of my favorites. I thought… maybe we could read it together.”

You blinked. “You want to read poetry with me?”

He nodded. “Oscar Wilde understood being misunderstood.”

You laughed - an honest, soft sound you hadn’t heard from yourself in a while.

Sam and Dean passed by the door once. Neither of them looked in. But Castiel didn’t notice - or if he did, he didn’t care.

He read the first stanza aloud. His voice was rough around the edges, not smooth like a trained narrator, but full of heart.

And for the first time in days, the silence wasn’t so lonely.

You leaned back in your chair, letting Castiel’s steady voice fill the empty space around you. The bunker’s hum and the distant clatter of Dean digging through the fridge faded into the background.

Cas paused after a few pages, his thumb keeping the book open. He looked at you carefully. “You’re still upset.”

It wasn’t really a question, but you nodded anyway, blinking down at your coffee. It was cold now. Bitter.

“I don't know what to do,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “They don’t trust me. Maybe they never did.”

Castiel frowned, a deep line forming between his brows. “You made a mistake. So have they. More times than they would admit.”

You managed a bitter laugh. “Yeah, but they always forgive each other. I’m just… the outsider.”

Castiel closed the book gently. He shifted in his seat so he was facing you more fully. “You are not expendable. You are not forgotten.” He hesitated, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You are family, whether they acknowledge it right now or not.”

You didn’t realize your hands were trembling until he reached out and covered one with his own. His touch was warm, grounding.

“Maybe…” you said, voice cracking, “maybe it’s time to stop waiting for them to come around.”

Cas’s gaze softened. “Or maybe it’s time to remind them what they’re about to lose.”

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you pushed your chair back and stood. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you crossed the bunker hallway. You spotted Sam and Dean in the library, heads bent over a lore book.

They barely glanced up.

You cleared your throat. Loudly.

Dean finally looked up. His face was unreadable, guarded in a way that only made the ache in your chest worse.

Sam set his pen down, careful, deliberate. “Hey,” he said, like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t been freezing you out.

You folded your arms. “You’re mad. Fine. I get it. But if you’ve decided I’m not part of this anymore, just say it to my face.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. Sam opened his mouth, but for once, he didn’t have a ready answer.

“I nearly died trying to help you,” you continued, voice rising. “I made a mistake. But so have you—both of you. Hell, Dean, you’ve died more times than I can count, and we never left you behind.”

Dean’s expression cracked, just a little. His shoulders slumped.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, guilt flashing across his face. “(Y/N)… we never meant to…”

“Didn’t you?” you shot back. “Because it sure felt like it.”

There was a long, aching pause.

Then Dean stood up slowly. “You’re right,” he said, voice rough. “You’re right. We screwed up.”

Sam gave a small, miserable nod. “We were scared. And we took it out on you. That’s not family. That’s not how this works.”

You stared at them for a long moment, every instinct screaming to turn around and leave them standing there.

But then Castiel was there behind you, a quiet, steady presence. Not pushing you either way - just… there.

You took a breath. “I’m not going to fight for a place you don’t want me in,” you said. “But I’m not going to disappear, either.”

Dean looked at you, real regret in his eyes. “We want you here. We’ve just been... idiots.”

Sam offered a small, almost sheepish smile. “Can you forgive us?”

You felt the crack in your heart start to mend, just a little. Not fully - but enough.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just walked forward and dropped heavily into a chair at the table. You looked up at them, daring them to do better.

Dean smirked faintly. “So... pizza and bad horror movies later?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if Cas gets to pick the movie.”

Cas, still behind you, looked startled. “I have many selections.”

Sam groaned playfully. “We’re doomed.”

You finally smiled for real. “Good. You deserve it.”

And for the first time in days, the bunker didn’t feel so cold anymore.

[castielscaplan]

Misery in My Heart

Summary: Sam confronts you when he assumes you're sleeping with his brother.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, (but not really), angst, happy ending, miscommunication

WC: 1,088 Words!

Read on Ao3!

--

You could feel Sam's eyes on you. It had been happening for the last couple of days, ever since you started spending more time with Dean. You had to admit, there was something easy about the way Dean made you laugh, the way his presence seemed to make everything a little less heavy. It had been a few long weeks on the road with the Winchesters, and you just needed someone to talk to. You needed someone who understood the weight of what you all did—someone who could crack a joke to lift your spirits when it seemed like the world was falling apart.

But Sam... Sam hadn’t taken kindly to it.

You didn’t understand it at first. He was your partner in this fight, your friend, the person who had been with you through thick and thin. So why was it that whenever you spent time with Dean, Sam started pulling away? Why did he look at you like you were doing something wrong, like you were betraying him? It didn’t make sense.

The tension in the air was thick, suffocating. Every time you walked into a room, Sam’s gaze would immediately narrow. His posture would stiffen, his shoulders tensing as if preparing for something. The distance between you two felt like an insurmountable wall, and the more you tried to bridge it, the farther he seemed to pull away.

You tried to shake it off, telling yourself that maybe he was just having a bad day, that maybe the weight of hunting and the constant danger was getting to him. But as the days wore on, you couldn’t ignore it any longer.

It was that night when it all came to a head. Dean was sitting at the table, flipping through some old lore book, while you were on the couch, trying to relax after a long day. Sam had been in and out of the room, pacing, avoiding eye contact with you. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

"Sam," you called out gently, hoping to break the tension. "Are we okay? You’ve been... distant."

He stopped in his tracks, his jaw tightening at your words. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, his eyes flicked to Dean, who was completely oblivious, too focused on the book in front of him to notice the storm brewing in Sam’s eyes.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Dean lately," Sam said, his voice colder than you’d ever heard it.

You blinked in confusion, wondering where this was going. "Yeah, we’ve just been talking, Sam. You know, just... having some down time. We’ve all been through a lot lately."

Sam’s eyes darkened. "You think I don’t notice, [Y/N]? I see how you look at him. The way you laugh at his jokes. The way you two seem so comfortable together." He stepped forward, his fists clenching. "I can’t believe you’d do this."

You froze, your stomach dropping as realization hit. "Sam, what are you talking about?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"I’m talking about you two!" he snapped. "You’ve been sneaking around behind my back, haven’t you? Spending time with him, laughing with him, while I’m over here trying to hold it all together, trying to keep things from falling apart, and you—"

"Sam!" you cut him off, standing up abruptly, your heart pounding in your chest. "I’m not cheating on you. I’m not doing anything behind your back! You’ve been acting like I’m doing something wrong, and I don’t know why. I’ve been talking to Dean, yes, but that’s it."

Sam’s eyes narrowed, the hurt in them cutting through you like a knife. "So, you expect me to believe that? After everything we’ve been through? You think I’m just going to sit here and pretend it’s nothing? It’s obvious, [Y/N]. You two have something. I can see it."

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as your chest tightened with the weight of his accusations. "No, Sam," you said, your voice soft but firm. "We don’t have anything. Dean’s my friend, just like you are. But you... you’ve been acting like I’m doing something wrong. Why are you so jealous? Why do you think I’d ever hurt you like that?"

Sam didn’t respond right away. His gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his own doubts was too much for him to carry. "I don’t know," he admitted quietly. "I just... I saw you two laughing together, and it made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I was losing you."

Your heart shattered at his words. You took a few steps closer, your voice gentle now, trying to ease the hurt that had been building between you. "Sam, you’ll never lose me. You’re not losing me to Dean, or to anyone else. You’re the one I want. You’ve always been the one I want."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with pain, confusion, and regret. "I’m sorry," he muttered, his voice breaking. "I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve known better than to let my jealousy get in the way of us. I just... I didn’t want to lose you."

You took his hand gently in yours, squeezing it softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You haven’t lost me, Sam. You won’t. But you have to trust me. You have to trust that I’m not going anywhere. That what I feel for you is real, and I’m not going to hurt you."

For a moment, Sam didn’t respond. Then, slowly, he nodded, his hand tightening around yours as if grounding himself in the reality of your words.

"I’m sorry," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "I let my fears get the best of me."

You shook your head, lifting his chin so he’d meet your gaze. "It’s okay, Sam. We’ll work through it. But you have to talk to me. You can’t keep everything bottled up inside."

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he nodded again. "I know. I’ll do better. I’ll trust you."

You smiled softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. "We’re in this together. Always."

Sam leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. "I don’t deserve you."

"Maybe not," you said with a teasing smile, "but you have me anyway."

He chuckled lightly, his eyes finally warming as he pulled you into a gentle hug. And in that moment, you both knew that no matter how messy things got, you could always find your way back to each other.

--

//Please don't hesitate to reblog! //

[inlovewhithafairytale]

POV: Dating this emotionally unstable man and being his comfort. or Dating Dean winchester

[samsblades]

✶ safe now — sam & dean w.

cw : gn!winchester!reader, hurt/comfort, reader is the youngest sibling, blood, injury & pain, implied torture, nicknames (bud), poorly edited, no y/n, 1.4K words. requested !

summary : your brothers rescue you after you're kidnapped and tortured by demons.

there’s a moment where everything is quiet. maybe it’s minutes. hours, perhaps. you don’t really know, because nothing makes sense anymore. up and down don’t mean much to you. and you can’t tell if everything hurts, if it burns, or if you can’t feel anything at all.

then, it’s not quiet anymore. it’s loud, and yet, it’s muffled. you can’t distinguish one sound from another. a crash and a yell, maybe even a scream. more crashing, but it all sort of sounds the same, so you’re not the most reliable narrator.

but there’s something familiar in it all. the clamor, the fighting, you think it must be. the shout of a word that you know to be your own somehow, and the blurred shape in front of your barely open eyes. it’s your name, you realize. the shouted sound was your name, far away. it’s not far away anymore, murmured and panicked, and the face in front of you, going in and out of focus, is sam’s.

oh, sam. you hope it’s really him. that means this is all over.

and then you decide that you can feel and everything does hurt, because there are hands wrapping around you from behind. they frighten and confuse you at first, but before you can thrash away or cry for sam to help, dean’s voice is in your ears and you don’t fight it.

“i got you,” he says simply, soothing you without any effort at all. he’s holding you up so you don’t fall once sam unties you from where you’re strung up by the wrists, like the carcass of a slaughtered farm animal. you try not to whimper. it would embarrass you. it’s hard, though, because his strong hold is aggravating the cuts and bruises that litter your bore torso. you wonder if his hands are warm or cold, but you can’t really tell despite the fact that your skin there is exposed. you were stripped of your shirt, you think.

sam’s talking too, voice so gentle that the sound of it is the most calming part. you’re sure he’s saying comforting words, but it’s hard to focus on more than one thing at a time. his hands work quickly to free you, and then you’re slumped back against dean’s chest. your legs aren’t working all that well right now.

dean’s hold is awkward and you sag forward, right into sam. dean lets him take you, his hands itching for his weapon. there could be more demons and he’s got to protect you. he’s the one with the demon knife.

you can imagine the dead bodies in the hallway, the vessels of all the demons who were guarding the place. but you don’t see them, your eyes having drifted closed and your head tucked away into sam’s neck. dean must be leading the way, ready to kill for you as many times as he must today, and forever.

but all the demons have been disposed of. no one gets in the way, and they carry you right out to the car. sam helps you into the back seat with him and it hurts like hell to move at all, but the smell of leather puts you at ease, finally. you’re still so out of it, oblivious to sam’s face that doesn’t bother to hide the worry and the pain of seeing you like this. you’re oblivious to the fact that dean can barely look at you, horrified by the thought that he could’ve prevented this, maybe. it wasn’t his fault that you were snatched away in the night, but both brothers will blame themselves.

you were hungry, so dean left for food. and then, the motel room felt stuffy, so you went to take a walk just around the parking lot. sam didn’t get into the shower like he planned to, waiting at the creaky table for you to come back. and when you were gone for more than five minutes—sam knew you’d get cold quickly because you ignored his advice to grab a jacket—he went out to look for you. you were gone, so he called dean, searched for you. dean got back and yelled at sam. how could you leave them alone? dean was asking himself the same question.

“hey, look at me,” sam says, voice pleading. you aren’t very responsive, and it terrifies him. the car is already moving, you realize. your eyes find his and you feel his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling your arm through the sleeve of his jacket. everything hurts so much that you never realized that you’re cold. where there isn’t blood, sam can see goosebumps. he’s gentle as he pulls the fabric around you, trying to keep you warm without hurting you any further. “there you are,” he murmurs.

“you’re fine, bud,” dean says from the front seat, voice tense as he splits his attention between the road and checking on you through the rearview mirror. when he can’t look, he’s listening. you let out a sound, meant to acknowledge them both. your awareness sharpens, and so does your pain.

“i’m fine,” you mumble back, voice flat and quiet. even sam can barely hear it, but dean catches the words too. “it’s all fine. i– i didn’t say anything. i didn’t say anything.” dean glances back, and sam looks at you in confusion.

“you didn’t say anything?” he repeats softly, trying to understand what you mean.

you give a jerky nod of your head. then you shake it the other way. “didn’t say anything,” you say again, “about the tablet. they wanted to know, but i didn’t say anything.” your voice is breathy and tired, and you’re mumbling so much that sam can barely make out what you’re saying. but he understands now, why you were taken. the tablet; you mean the demon tablet. the demons took you to get information on the demon tablet, thinking they could break the youngest winchester. 

of course, they couldn’t, but the thought boils his blood with fury. that anyone thinks they can use you for something like that. or that they think you’re a weak link, just because you’re the youngest. or maybe it was to cause the most chaos, the most panic. to mess with you is to raise hell. that’s what demons are for, of course, but they were stupid enough to think it wouldn’t just get them all killed.

“they took you for that?” dean growls, his voice dangerously vicious, “the fucking demon tablet?”

“the demon tablet,” you breathe out, your less bruised cheek finally falling to sam’s shoulder with exhaustion. he tucks you even closer into his side. “i didn’t say anything, though.”

“we know,” sam murmurs, wanting to ease your anxiety. his heart aches that you think the stupid tablet is the most imortant thing here. you’re bleeding all over his jacket and practically delirious from pain. you’re all that he and dean care about right now. “we know. we don’t have to worry about that now, okay?”

“mhmm,” you hum, “cuz they still don’t know where it is.” your voice is so hoarse. as if you’d been screaming. presumably, you had been, and that makes your brothers see red. dean’s grip on the wheel is knuckle-whitening, and sam is only able to be gentle for your sake. his shoulders hold all of the tension just like they hold up your trembling body. the car almost swerves before dean has to force his thoughts away from what you might’ve endured. he’s all too familiar with demon torture. he thinks about killing the demons who hurt you over again.

sam thinks about it too, but just for a moment. “yeah. and because you’re safe now,” he tells you firmly. 

“safe now,” you echo softly. everything hurts. the pain is bone-deep, but you believe him when he tells you that you’re safe now. “i knew you’d come get me,” you mutter, eyes never staying open for longer than a moment or two. you look as tired as you sound. maybe that’s what got you through it; the knowledge that it would be over, one way or another. either your brothers would come to rescue you and kill your captors, or you’d die first. they certainly would’ve still killed all those demons if that were to happen, and probably many, many more. but no one likes to think about that.

because you’re safe now.