#john winchester daughter Tumblr posts
winniewritesstories · 9 days ago
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And Then There Were Three | Meg Winchester #1
Summary - A baby shows up on the Winchester's doorstep, and their entire lives change.
Pairings/characters - John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Meg Winchester (OC)
Sam & Dean Winchester x little sister, John Winchester x daughter
Warnings - Mild cursing, John Winchester
Language - English (British)
Word Count - 3096
Notes - This is the first instalment in a series of one shots and headcanons about my OC Meg! Please be kind <3
Credits - dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics
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Dean Winchester was strong. He was brave, and fierce. He fought monsters - has done his whole life, as long as he can remember. He liked to think he was unbreakable, invincible. The hits kept coming, and he kept taking them. Fear, pain, worry - he pushed it all down, kept it locked away. In some ways, he had a heart of ice. He never broke.
Dean Winchester was strong.
 And then one day, just before he turned nineteen, a baby appeared on a motel doorstep. A baby who wasn't his, but was. Would always be. A baby in a pram, with a note addressed to John Winchester, a note that eased the fears this baby was his, but it would be his, really. John Winchester was never a father. Not to him, not to Sam, and therefore not to this baby. 
It was early October, and already Maine was cold. Dean's breath clouded in front of him in the cool, dark night. A glance around the parking lot revealed nobody, no cars, nothing to indicate where this baby had come from. His first instinct was to bring the baby in from the cold, and he did, careful to fix the salt line the wheels of the pram disturbed. 
The first thing that struck Dean was that this kid was definitely a Winchester. They were a carbon copy of baby Sammy, same little button nose and eyes, barely any hair gracing their head. A memory tugged at the corners of his mind, four years old and holding Sammy for the first time, his mom supporting Sam's head while dad took a picture. Still a kid with two parents but keenly aware of his responsibility, of how his centre of gravity had shifted from himself to his baby brother. 
But his mom wasn't here now and Dean would have to support this baby's head on his own. And his dad hadn't taken pictures of his kids since Mary died. So his centre of gravity shifted again to the baby in the pram. Another of John Winchester's kids for Dean to raise. Part of him was angry, part of him defeated. Sammy was fourteen, able to look after himself now. Dean didn't have to worry about him in the same way - Sam fed himself, did his homework, all that crap. Dean had almost been free. 
But he couldn't blame the baby. He didn't. It didn't ask for this. Didn't understand anything. Dean reached a hand down, pulled the little yellow blanket away from their face. It was small, smaller than Sammy had been, and not just because Dean was grown now and over six foot. Small in a way that told him this baby was young. Small in a way that put fear into him. Small in a way that made him desperate to protect them from the horrors and cruelty of their world.
He felt sick knowing he could never protect them from that. From their lives. This baby was a Winchester, which basically meant it was fucked.
The bathroom door opened, and Sam walked out.
"What is that?" he asks, damp hair curling against his forehead.
"A baby," Dean replies, still looking down at them.
"A what?" Sam asks incredulously, crossing the room to stand by his brother. He looked down and saw there was, in fact, a baby. "The hell did this come from?"
"Was on the doorstep. Came with this." Dean said, handing Sam the unopened letter addressed to their father.
"It's dad's?" Sam was having a hard time digesting all this. He had to admit, his first thought was it was Dean's. "Where even is he?"
"Bar, I think. Reckon he knows about it?"
"If he knew he had another kid out there, don't ya think he would've mentioned it?"
"Yeah, 'cos Dad's a real open book." Dean replied. Sam turned the envelope over and made to open. "What're you doing? Don't do that, is addressed to Dad."
"Figured this might give us some answers. Maybe a name for the mystery baby."
Dean snatched the letter from his brother. "We ain't reading this til Dad has."
"Is Dad dating anyone?" Sam asked. "He's never mentioned anyone."
Dean shrugged a shoulder. "Doubt Dad dates. Probably a one time thing."
"And after he gave me the safe sex talk. Hypocrite." Sam said. Dean shot him a pointed look but didn't say anything. After all, Sam wasn't wrong. Dean'd received the John Winchester safe sex talk, too (an uncomfortable memory).
As if summoned, the rumble of the Impala's engine and the beams of her headlights signalled their father's arrival. The brothers exchanged a look, knowing that a mystery baby showing up on their doorstep would not go down well with John Winchester. Dean didn’t know why, but he positioned himself in front of the pram, standing between the baby and the door John would walk through. Sam copied him.
 The door opened and John walked in, stepping over the salt line. He nodded his head towards his sons, locking the door and shrugging off his leather jacket. He turned around; neither Sam nor Dean had moved, or even said anything.
"What?" he asked gruffly.
"Um, so something kinda... turned up. For you." Dean started. John cocked an eyebrow.
"This ain't exactly our forwarding address. What is it and how'd it get here?" John asked, heading to the fridge for a beer.
"Well... it's..." Dean figured it was easier to just show him, so he stepped to the side and motioned for Sam to do the same.
John nearly dropped his beer. He immediately fixed his gaze on Dean.
"What did you do?" he asked. Dean sighed. Why'd everyone assume it was his?
"It's yours," Sam said bluntly, taking the letter from Dean's hand and holding it out for him. "Showed up on the doorstep with this."
This time John did drop his beer.
The bottle smashed on the floor, glass and alcohol flying everywhere. The sudden noise startled the baby awake, and they promptly burst out crying. John reached for the letter, Sam for a broom, which left Dean with the baby.
He gently lifted them out of the pram, careful of their head. The yellow blanket fell away slightly, revealing a light pink romper underneath. Presumably a girl then. A little sister. Dean rocked them gently, the way he remembers his mother doing with Sam, quietly shushing to calm her down.
In his arms, he was again struck by how small she was. He held her easily in just two hands, one under her head, the other on her back. She opened her eyes then, wide and blue like all babies, taking in the motel room around them before settling on Dean's face.
"Hello, you," he whispered, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I'm your big brother." His heart clenched in his chest as he held her.
"What's the letter say?" Sam asks, knelt on the floor to pick up the glass. John was staring intently at the letter in his hands.
"It's from her mother. Says she can't look after a baby. Too young."
"Jesus, Dad. How young?" Sam asks. Dean groans inwardly. Not the time for this, Sam.
"What the hell are you trying to ask?" John fired back. "She was early twenties. Drinking age, anyway. I don't know why the hell she'd think I'm any more capable of this than she would be. How the hell'd she even find us?" Sam and Dean both shrugged. How were they to know?
"What's her name?" Dean asked, still swaying gently back and forth.
"Amanda something. Don't really remember, to be honest. It was two nights. The sex was alright, nothing special. Didn't exchange numbers."
Sam and Dean cringed. They did not need details.
"I meant the baby, Dad." Dean replied. John at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.
"Right, of course. Says here..." He scanned the letter. "Margaret." Dean screwed up his nose. That's an old lady name. His little sister was going to be cool, and that couldn't happen with a name like Margaret.
"That's a terrible name for a baby," Dean said aloud, looking down at her. "She doesn't look like a Margaret."
"Meg March was actually a Margaret," Sam said. John and Dean looked at him, perplexed. "Little Women? Louisa May Alcott?" More blank stares. Sam just rolled his eyes.
"Meg." Dean repeats, squinting his eyes at the baby. It fit. "Meg Winchester."
"It doesn't matter what she's called," John said. "We ain't keeping it." Dean's head snapped up.
"What?" Dean asked incredulously.
"How the hell are we going to look after a baby, Dean?" John asked. "We don't have a house, or any baby supplies. We're always on the move. We're hunters, not nannies. I spent two nights with a woman a year ago and then a baby appears. Kid's probably not even mine anyway. We'll take her to a fire station or something."
Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. They'd managed before. Sammy had been but six months old when they started hunting, and Dean - though he tried - hadn't been able to help out as much as he could now. This baby was family. Family is everything to the Winchester's.
"Course she's yours, Dad, look at her! She's a spitting image of Sammy as a baby. Besides, Sam was a baby and we raised him on the road. You can't just abandon her." Dean cried out.
"Maybe Dad is right, Dean. She'd be better off with a family - "
"We're her family! The three of us."
"A real family, with a mom, a dad, a house. She'd be normal, Dean, safe. We can't give her any of that!" Sam replied. True, he was projecting his own dreams onto a baby, but he had a valid point, or so he thought. All Dean heard, however, was that Sam didn't believe they were a real family.
"We are a real family, Sam. Just because we don't have a white picket fence, don't mean we ain't a real family. Besides, you really want this kid growing up in the system? Anything could happen to her!"
"Anything could happen to her here, Dean! All it takes is - is a spirit, or a pissed off monster out for revenge, and she-"
"But we can protect her from that. You think some civilian family would keep her safe if a monster decided to get revenge, Sammy? You have know idea what happens in the foster system. She could be abused, or trafficked, or-"
"Enough!" John snapped loudly, startling the baby again. He couldn't hear himself think. And he did need to think, long and hard, about what was best for them, and for the baby. Sam made a good point, of course, and God knows John's not equipped to look after a baby. But Dean was right, too. Anything could happen to her out there. "Sam, get me a beer."
Sam sighed but did as he was told. John walked over to Dean, who was gently rocking the baby to settle her after John's outburst. He looked at the baby for the first time, really looked at her. Dean was right; she was a carbon copy of baby Sam. And she was cute, too. Dean, admittedly, had been a funny looking baby, especially as a newborn, a squished face and large head he eventually grew into. But this baby - Meg, he reminded himself - was sweet looking, almost doll-like, with her pouty pink lips and button nose.
He and Mary had never talked about more kids - Sam had only been a baby when she died - but he'd always imagined them having one or two more, and he'd always wanted a little girl. Mary had, too, he had no doubt.
But Mary wasn't here, and this wasn't her baby. Part of him felt guilty, as though he'd been unfaithful, despite the fact she'd been dead almost fifteen years. John thought of his own father then, Henry, who'd taken off when John was only four, leaving him and his mother on their own. Even all these years later, he still felt bitter about it - bitter and hurt. Of course it hurt, knowing your own father didn't want you and took off into the night. And that's what he was about to do to this little girl. Her mother had already bailed. John was all she had left.
John, and his boys. Sam had kept his distance, almost wary of the baby in Dean's arms, but Dean - he was whipped. That was the only word for it. He was smiling softly down at her, cooing gently to soothe her. Deep down, John knew Dean would end up doing more for this baby than he ever could. But maybe that was a good thing. Dean wouldn't make the mistakes John did. Wouldn't leave her alone like he did, leave her to raise herself.
The guilt twisted in his gut like a knife, but he knew what he had to do.
"We'll keep her. It'll be safest for her. We'll... we'll make it work somehow. We'll have to." John said, placing a large, calloused hand gently on his daughter's head. Dean looked up at him with Mary's green eyes, raw hope etched onto his face.
"Yeah?" He asked softly. John nodded once, clapping his eldest son gently on the shoulder. Sam handed him a beer, then stood on Dean's other side.
"Can I hold her?" Sam asked. Dean looked reluctant to let her go.
"Be careful. She's really small and can't hold her head up on her own yet, so make sure you support it. Don't drop her, for God's sake." Dean rambled on as he gently shifted the infant into Sam's open arms, already fretting like a mother hen. John smiled softly at his children - all three of them.
Sam smiled at the baby, rocking her gently the way Dean had. "Hi, Meg. I'm gonna be your favourite big brother." He said. Dean rolled his eyes.
"No way, Sammy. I'm already her favourite."
"That's crap, she doesn't speak, can't even smile."
"Sure she can, she smiled at me just now."
"Yeah, that was gas, Dean. She farted on you." Sam replied, and Dean's smile faltered.
"Speaking of," Dean said, changing the conversation abruptly. "We're gonna need supplies. Diapers, a car seat, formula."
John nodded, moving to the pram that Meg had turned up in. There was a bag in the basket underneath the bassinet. John leafed through it quickly. "There's some stuff here," he said, holding up a muslin cloth and some diapers. "Enough for tonight, at least. We'll find somewhere in town tomorrow that sells baby stuff. Maybe pick up a book, too."
"A baby book?" Sam asked. "Why'd you need that?"
"It's been a long time since I did any of this, Sammy. Besides, I didn't do it on my own before, I was working a lot. Your mom... your mom looked after you guys most. Did all the hard stuff." John admitted quietly. The room fell into reverent silence the way it always did when someone brought up Mary. Sam didn't point out that he'd still been a baby when she died, and John had raised him for most of life alone. It didn't seem like the time. But a book seemed overboard, in Sam's opinion. How hard could a baby be?
Only a minute or so later, Sam's question was answered. Meg began fussing in his arms, quietly at first, but getting louder despite Sam's gentle shushing and swaying. When her cries turned to wails, he looked up at his father and brother, panic in his eyes. "I think I broke her."
It was Dean that stepped forward, plucking the baby from his arms. "You didn't break her," he assured Sam. John stepped up too, looking down at the infant whose fist she was trying to squeeze into her mouth.
"See how she's sucking her hand?" John spoke quietly. "Mean's she's hungry. C'mon Sam, I'll show you how to make a bottle. If I can work it out, that is."
Sam and John stepped away to prepare the formula. Dean watched them as he swayed the baby. "It's okay, princess. Daddy and Sammy will get you some food."
Dean watched his father, usually so confident and self assured in everything he did, falter at almost every step. Checking the instructions on the formula, then checking again. Rinsing a bottle and filling it with hot water. Hands hesitant, unsure of what they were doing. Hands that could assemble a shot gun in under a minute, but seemed to tremble as he shook the bottle. Testing the temperature on his palm, his wrist, then his wrist again. He had no idea how warm it should be.
Although it was strange to see John so unsteady, Dean found it strangely... comforting. Humanising, perhaps. He pictured briefly John doing the same thing for him as a baby, the unsure hands of a first time father. Pictured his mom along side, walking him through each step.
John handed the formula to Dean. "You gonna do it?" he asked. Dean nodded. He didn't want to relinquish the baby, even though John hadn't even held her yet. Although, he'd made no move to hold her either. John talked him through it, how to hold the bottle, at what angle, as best he could remember.
Dean paced slowly around the small living space of their motel room with his sister in his arms. Sam had pulled out some homework, John writing something in his journal, beer in hand. But for Dean, it was just him and his sister in the world. Hell, his sister was his world now.
Dean Winchester was strong.
But he could feel his heart thawing out for the baby in his arms. He knew he needed to be strong for her, yet he'd never felt so weak. The fear of what could happen to her, the need to keep her safe, was almost overwhelming. Was this parenthood?
The love, too, he supposed was overwhelming. The kind that made his heart clench, made him want to fix the world for her and burn it down at the same time. The kind he'd kill and die for.
And somehow, despite everything he'd seen and done in only eighteen years, this was the scariest thing he'd encountered to date. He kept it together for her. He was strong. He had to be.
He's Dean Winchester.
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Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it <3
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virtu4l-di4ry · 7 months ago
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from dean’s perspective “i need you’ is bigger than “i love you”. love is complicated but it’s direct, he could love someone without having them in his life. but need? dean “mr. dependent, guarded walls up so high, emotionally unavailable” winchester needing someone? thats huge. to need means to give them control. to need means i cant do this without you. love comes easy to dean but to genuinely need something and be selfish enough to ask for it? that goes against everything he’s been conditioned into believing.
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 1 month ago
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Daughter Problems
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, John Winchester & daughter!reader
Requested by Anonymous (x2)
Synopsis: you get your very first period, and the boys are unequipped to deal with it
A/N: I tried to make John comforting but still in character, I hope you guys like it! (PS—I’m on my period so this was perfect)
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“Dad!”
The slam of the motel door and the sound of your voice jolted Dean out of his dozing and had his head shooting up from the lore book he was reading.
“Jeez kid,” he grumbled. “Do you have to be so loud?”
“Where’s dad?” You demanded.
“On a hunt.” Dean gestured to the book in front of him. “I’m researching for him. You got back just in time to help.”
“Not now, Dean.” You huffed. “I need dad.”
Dean was suddenly stiffer and more alert.
“Why? Something happen?”
You groaned. “No, De, I just need him.” You rubbed your arms. “Can—can I call him?”
Dean stared at you for a moment, realizing that your flannel was tied around your waist rather than covering your arms, despite the cold air outside and in the motel.
“What’s with the shirt?” He questioned.
“It doesn’t matter!” You snapped, and Dean’s eyes widened.
“Alright, c’mon, spill.”
“Dean, forget it, I need—“
“Dad’s busy. I’m all you’ve got. Now tell me what’s going on.”
“Is something wrong?” Sam’s voice came right after he stepped into the motel room.
“I need to call dad!” You insisted.
“We’re not calling dad,” Dean said. “You don’t have a choice here, kid. If you need something, then—“
You didn’t let him finish. With a dramatic huff, you took hold of your flannel and untied it, revealing the bloodstain on your jeans.
The silence was dramatic, long, and extremely uncomfortable.
“Um…I take it you haven’t gotten this before,” Dean said. “But I mean…you know what it is, right? Like you know—“
“Yes, Dean! I know what it is!” You retied your flannel, fidgeting uncomfortably. “And no, I’ve never had it before.”
“We could, uh—“ Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, we could try to get you some stuff…do you know what you need?”
“Not really,” you mumbled. “I mean, I know there’s different options but I don’t know what…”
“Oh boy,” Dean grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. You felt your face heat up at Dean’s embarrassment.
“You know what, never mind,” you huffed, turning and heading for the bathroom. “Just forget it.”
“No no, wait—“ Sam tried to stop you, but you brushed past him.
“I said forget it!”
The slam of the bathroom door ended your demand for you.
“Do you think we should go to the store?”
“I don’t know, man, I mean I don’t even know what she nee-“
The brothers’ twenty-minute long argument was cut short by the door opening, and the imposing form of John Winchester entered the room.
“Hey boys,” he greeted, frowning when he was met with awkward silence. “What’s going on? Where’s your sister?”
“Um…the bathroom,” Dean answered. “She uh…she got…she’s on her first…”
“Would you spit it out?” John snapped.
“She got her period,” Sam whispered as if it were a secret.
“Oh boy.” John rolled his eyes, and Sam and Dean were taken aback when he chuckled. “And you two idiots have been standing around trying to figure out what to do?”
“Well…” Dean looked defensive, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to defend himself.
“Alright, alright.” John shook his head. “Apparently health class taught you guys nothing. Here.” He grabbed a notepad and started writing up a list. “I want you two to go out and get these, and I’ll deal with your sister.” He handed the list to Dean, whose eyes widened at the sight.
“She needs all that?”
“Just get going,” John demanded.
Once the boys were gone, he knocked hesitantly on the bathroom door.
“Hey sweetheart? It’s dad, can I come in?”
He was met with silence for a few seconds, before a weak “ok” prodded him to open the door. His whole figure seemed to soften when he saw you sitting in the bathtub fully dressed, your clothes and hair soaked.
“I wanted to wash the blood off, but I didn’t want to see Sam and Dean again just to get clean clothes,” you mumbled. “So I just showered with them on.” You rubbed at your tear-stained face, and kept your gaze purposefully averted from John.
“Oh kiddo…” John sighed, coming to sit by you. His pitying reply seemed to just upset you further, and you started to cry. “Hey, hey,” John soothed. “It’s ok, really. Your brothers are off getting a list of stuff, and I can help show you what you need.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” You sniffled. “I got blood everywhere, and-and I’m a mess and I can’t stop crying…”
John had to admit, his little girl crying in a bathtub and questioning his sympathy felt like a punch to the gut. Was he really so bad?
“Look, I…I know I can be tough on you kids,” John admitted. “But I also know that this is a lot for you. This isn’t your fault, none of it—not the blood everywhere, or the crazy emotions, or anything. I’m just trying to make this easy for all of us, ok?”
“Ok.” You nodded, your tears finally subsiding.
“Ok,” John breathed. “Which means you’re gonna have to help me. Talk to me, what are you feeling?”
“My stomach really hurts,” you admitted.
“But you’re not…” John hesitated, then he huffed. “I mean you don’t feel like—“
“Like killing anyone?” You asked, struggling hard to resist rolling your eyes. “No…I kinda just feel like crying.”
“I’ll take it over the alternative,” John decided. A faint, nostalgic smile flitted over his features. “Your mother used to bite everyone’s heads off when—“ John shook his head, blinking hard as if blinking away the memory. “Um, anyway. I know you’re feeling pretty bad, but we’ve got enough enemies without you trying to kill us too.” John tried to smile again to indicate that he was—kind of—kidding, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. You smiled back anyway, if only to take pity on him, and he seemed relieved.
“I won’t,” you promised.
“We’re back!” Dean yelled as he entered the motel room.
“In here!” John announced, but when he saw you squirming and shrinking down as if you could disappear down the drain, he stood and went to meet Dean at the bathroom door instead. He took the bag Dean offered him and shut the door in his face.
“Ok.” John started laying everything out on the bathroom counter, and you felt like you would die if your face got any hotter. John noticed your face, and he stopped. “Right, uhh…” he put the bag down. “I’m just gonna leave this here and let you figure it out. Knock if you have any questions and I’ll come help you. I’m gonna get you some dry clothes, and you just…just come out when you’re done I guess.” John started to turn the door handle, but your voice stopped him.
“Dad?”
“Yeah kiddo?”
“Thanks.”
John grinned at you—a rare occurrence that you filed away in your memory—and walked out.
You stood up, laying a towel down on the bathroom floor so you wouldn’t get water everywhere, and took hold of the bag. It looked like the guys had gotten you just about every option of everything you could possibly need, including chocolate, which you munched on while you tried to decide what you wanted to use.
Ten minutes later, you were dried off and in clean clothes and hesitantly leaving the bathroom. You were surprised to see just your dad when entered the room.
“I sent the guys off to get some food,” John explained. “You feeling ok?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled, shuffling your feet. “Are you, um…are you gonna be around?”
“I finished off the hunt,” John assured you. “I should be here for at least a few days.”
“Thank you.” You felt your dad stiffen in surprise when you hugged him, but he quickly relaxed.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “You know your brothers we’re just trying to help, right?”
“They’re idiots.” Your words—muffled by John’s jacket—make him chuckle.
“Yeah, sometimes they are. But hey, that’s what I’m here for, right?”
You grinned, your arms tightening around your dad. “Right.”
And John hugged you back tightly, a smile on his face as he realized that even as you got older, there were some things you still needed your dad for.
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz
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castiwls · 7 months ago
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brother, brother - d.w
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Paring; dean & sister!reader
Synopsis; John Winchester was never a great father but where he failed someone else stepped up
Warnings; none
Notes; this has been sitting in my drafts for ages omg
masterlist
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You smiled at your brother as he appeared beside you, beers in hand. He passed one to you as he took a seat on the bonnet beside you. “Thanks.” You smiled before taking a sip. Your brother nodded before taking a sip of his own drink. 
“Remember how dad flipped the first time dad caught you drinking? Man, I think I saw fire in his eyes.” Your brother chuckled turning his head to take at you. “Oh yeah. I think that was the first time I ever faced his wrath.” You joked bumping shoulders with him. “I think I was too drunk to truly care to be completely honest.”
“You were a mess. I spent most of that night awake in case you were sick.” He shook his head. “Then you actually were sick.” He rolled his eyes. You grimaced slightly. “Please don’t remind me,” You took another sip. “Being sick on the floor in front of my younger brother was bad enough. I think I traumatised Sam that day.” 
Dean laughed. “Traumatised Sam!? It was me who had to clean it up, missy.” He exclaimed. “And I was very thankful you did.” You joked before looking out into the empty field. 
Your childhood was a touchy subject. Something which all three of you chose not to talk about unless necessary. Growing up you’d always known that your home life was less than normal, that your dad never acted in the way you saw dad’s on the TV act.
As you’d grown up you’d simply come to the conclusion that maybe John Winchester was never meant to be a dad, sure for the first two years of your life he’d played the part but even then you knew it wasn’t perfect. 
“You look like you're thinking quite hard there, you okay?” Dean bumped his shoulder with you drawing you back into the present. “I’m fine, just thinking…” You trailed off looking down at the drink in your hands. You felt your brother wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.
You both fell back into a comfortable silence for a moment before you turned your head to face him “You were more of a father to me than he ever was,” You smiled at your brother “Just so you know.”
Dean pressed a kiss to your forehead before resting his head on top of yours.
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ellieslittleburrow · 4 months ago
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Summary : John Winchester, your father, is protective of you
Warnings : swearing and cute John
A/N : should we write more John Winchester?
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John Winchester, a man of many flaws. Sammy can attest to that, he suffered the most from John's decisions. Dean would stand against that, he's been John's boy since the day he was born. Dad this, dad that; That doesn't mean it isn't complicated, though.
You on the other hand.....umm....not suuuure where you stand really, where do you stand?
Everything felt different for you with John. Everything. His love for you was established since the beginning. He got a spark in his eyes whenever you were around that neither of his two boys ever got the chance to see, even Dean.
You were his baby girl.
There were the times where he stood up for you. The bullies??? Never stood a chance. There was that one time in particular when you got h-
"Hey! What did i tell you about slamming doors?" A scolding growl sounded, one that would usually....send shivers down your spine. This time it left you unbothered, or maybe fueled your anger even more.
In an attempt to not cry in front of the Great Winchester, you hurried to the bed assigned to you and threw yourself into a sleeping position, your back facing him.
"HEY" his growl grew angrier and you just hugged yourself. You didn't need him exploding your eardrums on top of everything else that had happened that day. His steps closed in on you and soon enough, your waist was gently being pulled back- you were facing him.
As his eyes navigated around your face, his features simultaniously softened. The creases shaped by the frown on your eyebrows, the sucked in lower lip, the damp eyelashes, all signs of-
"You were crying?" A stupid question that John needed no answer to. He somehow knew why, too. But he asked anyway. "Was it the kids at school?"
With that-you force yourself back on your side. "I told you not to force me into a new school."
Your mumble is muffled but John already knew what you were going to say-you've had this conversation many a times before.
"Come on" Your father tapped your butt before heading towards the door. And your curiosity itched your brain and you turned around, sitting up.
"Where are you going?" You asked and he glanced at you over his own shoulder, a mischivious smile embellishing his face.
"Just get your ass up."
Over in the car, John turned to you. "Do you know where this kid lives?"
You took your damn time to respond, both of you will get into trouble buuuuuuut.... A smirk ghosted your lips. "Yeaaaah?"
"Good, that saves us a lot of time."
You nervously chuckled. "A lot of time for what, dad?" The Impala roared as silence followed your question. You sort of understood. And as you directed him towards the bully's house, your stomach tightened in a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
"Right there, the Cayenne, his father's." You pointed at the car and your dad shamelessly parked his own only a few couples of meters away.
Another nervous chuckle left your lips as your head popped forward. Your eyes followed your dad as he jumped out of the car and headed for the trunk. The hood popped up for a minute and then your dad reappeared with what seemed to be a....BAT?
You jumped out of the car and distress shot through your veins. "Dad" You called for him but he'd already made up his mind and as you stressfullly walked behind him, he casually headed for the car, the bat vibrating in his hands. "Dad, you're gonna get us into trouble." You whispered as if whispering would make the crime your father is about to commit any less obvious.
But John totally ignored you and he swung the bat before sending it into the Cayenne's back window-the glass instantly chattered. You flinched and before you were even able to process the first hit, a second one echoed through the quiet neighborhood.
You flinched again. "Dad, st-"
"I'm only doing this for you, honey." John rounded the car and stopped at the front of the car. "If it were up to me, i'd slice the boy AND his father." The third swing hit harder, more violent. And the alarm continues blaring. "All he had to do was teach his son some manners. But since he can't do that, i'll teach 'em both a good lesson."
There's that story, and there's another one. Where you're being you, and for you, emotions have a like, a giant gravitational pull on your life-just like this time.
You and dad have been on the road for almost two days-stupid shapeshifters and it's that week of the month that's the most chaoti-- and this stupid fucking booth is weird and squishy and-
Your cheeks grew hot and wetness suddenly streamed down your face. When John noticed, he blew out a long sigh. He shut his eyes slowly, bringing his index and thumb to the opposite sides of his face, rubbing roughly.
Not fucking cool, dad. This shit's tiring enough. 'You know what-" You stop midsentence, rushing off to the bathroom but a sudden strain pulled you back.
"No-no, i'm sorry, honey, i'm sor-"
"I'm already tired enough." Your voice came out full and rough, heavy with the build up of saliva in your throat. "don't need you making fun of m-" You were about to yank your wrist away when he held it tighter.
"Come on that's not what's happening here." John swiftly got up and faced you. "I just-i'm tired too, kid. I-" He sighed again, and you wiped away your tears.
"Coooome here." Too slow but too sweet-and not a question either, your dad reached for the back of your head and brought it to his chest. He planted a kiss over your hair and gently swayed both of your bodies left and right. "Dad's here." His tone might've been gentle, but it still bore a hint of annoyance.
He doesn't mean-he "You don't mean that-you're just saying it because i'm-"
"Noo i do mean it, baby, i do-" he sighed once more. "I'm just tired. That's why i sound like this." He planted a second kiss on your forehead before boaring into your eyes. You dropped your gaze down in the process, too-
"I'm sorry." His thick eyebrows softened back to their normal position. And his bunny teeth appeared. Amused, he hesitated to speak for a few seconds. "You know you're too old for this right?"
You pinched his waist, causing him to jerk back, choking on a chuckle.
You sniffed, throwing embarassed glances his way. "Shut up."
"I'm sorry, honey."
What the hell is wrong with me? Is the first thought that comes to mind. There sure are many more stories to tell about the great John Winchester. But to sum it all up, you are indeed on his fucking side.
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@marvelfanfn2187a113
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WOO WOO, i hope yall made it to the end. See ya next time 🖤🖤🖤🥀🥀🥀
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lunajay33 · 6 months ago
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Mothers Daughter🕊️
Summary: Being the youngest of the winchesters had its ups and downs, but being the only girl made you miss out on a female figure, so the only thing you can do is ask the men around you about your mother
Pairing: Dean Winchester x lil sister, Sam Winchester x lil sister, John Winchester x daughter
•Masterlist•
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You never got to meet you mother she died 6 months after you were born, well when you and Sam were born, he was older than you by 5 minutes and still treated you like his little sister but you couldn’t ask for 2 better bigger brothers, they were always there for you and made sure you were okay
Being the youngest and only girl in the family it got hard sometimes, when you were little it wasn’t as big of a deal, John treated you like his little girl and loved you dearly always reminding you that you looked like Mary, your brothers treating you like a princess and let you play with dolls, but as you got older and you got more woman problems it was hard to handle since there was no motherly figure to turn too
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You woke up in the motel you were currently staying at with John, Sam and Dean, late at night you got up feeling groggy and your stomach aching so bad, nothing like you’ve ever felt before, you got to the bathroom looking in the mirror seeing how pale you had gotten, thinking maybe it was just something you ate you went to use the washroom but when you pulled down your pants all you see is blood and you panic
You pull your pants back up dropping to the ground when another wave of pain hits your lower stomach
“DADDY!” You scream out scared you might be serious sick
He runs in frantic looking around for danger, probably thinking something supernatural was out to get you, he kneeled infront of you brushing your hair back
“Baby what’s wrong?”
“Somethings wrong, I’m bleeding a lot and….and it hurts so bad” you say breathing heavy just wishing for him to take you pain away
“Oh princess, it’s your period every woman goes through it, I’ll run out and get you some pads and pain killers, drink some water I’ll be right back”
When he left Sam and Dean came and sat with you on the bathroom floor, doing everything they could to comfort you, but you were still confused on what was happening
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That happened when you were 14 and after John explained to you what a period was you felt so different from your brothers, every month you had to go through pain while they carried on with hunting, having to go through bouts of random emotions was irritating but what was worse was having your body change and not knowing what to do
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“Damn sis your legs are just about as hairy as mine” Dean laughed as we were all sat around in another motel, you felt so embarrassed covering your legs under the blankets
“Dean enough” John said as he saw your bottom lip tremble
“Daddy I don’t understand why do I have to change like this my legs are hairy and my boobs are getting bigger and I don’t feel comfortable”
“Come on princess I’ll take you shopping”
He took you to a drug store find a training bra that fit comfortably and some razors, the drive home was a little quiet
“I’m sorry daddy, I don’t mean to inconvenience you I know you have a lot on your plate right now with this werewolf case”
“It’s not your fault, and you’re not an inconvenience, just wish your mother was here to help guide you on this”
Your mother was a sore topic for the family which is all the more reason you wish you knew her, they barely talk about her
You got back to the motel room and Sam was already asleep but Dean was up watching tv still, John got ready for bed while you sat at the little table working on some homework Dean coming to sit with you, he was 19 so he didn’t have to do any schooling anymore
“Dean can I ask you something?” You sighed putting your pencil down
“Sure kid, what’s got your little head worrying?”
“Do you….i mean I never knew her but…..do you like mom would have liked me?”
He looked surprised not expecting that question, you saw John come out of the washroom seeing Dean expression and your nervous state
“What’s going on?”
“She…..she asked if mom would have liked her”
You were scared that he was going to yell at you, but you were just so desperate to have a mom or even a older strong woman figure to look up to
“Daddy I’m sorry I just…..I feel so different and you always say I remind you of mom, I just miss someone I never knew and it hurts”
“I’m not made princess, I’m sorry you and the boys don’t have your mother but I’m trying my best, and your mother would have loved you, I remember when she found out she was having twins she was so excited and when you were born and we saw you were a little girl she always said she felt this connection with you, how she’d cradle you and you’d immediately relax against her, she had so much planned for you Angel, she told me to wait till your 16th birthday to give you this but it’s close enough” he got up rummaging through his bag pulling out a little box
You opened it to see a silver necklace with a protection charm, just like the one John had tattooed
“I love it, thank you, I hope where ever she is she’s proud of me”
“Hey kid, we’re all proud of you” Dean smiled helping you put the necklace on
“She couldn’t have left me with better protectors, I love all three of you”
“Love you too princess, forever”
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You were 22 now and on a run with all three Winchester boys, you had just finished getting the colt back from some vampires and trying to make a game plan so that John would accept you help, Sammy was driving and you and Dean were in the back
“Daddy please just take a break for a second, let us help I…….i miss you” bright lights burned you eyes before everything crashed and everything went black
You opened your eyes to see you were in a field full of flowers, not a worry in the world just the calming feeling of wind in your hair, bees buzzing by, no vampires or demons or anything just peace, then a woman in white appeared next to you
“You’re so beautiful” she smiled brushing your hair back
“Who are you?”
“I’m your mother dear, don’t tell me those boys haven’t showed you a picture of me” you shook your head but then you realized what she said, your mother was sitting next to you
“Mom…..it’s you!” You wrapped your arms around her feeling her warmth that you craved for
“But if it’s really you then…..am I dead?” You asked scared
“You got in a crash, the boys are waiting for you back there but if you want you can stay with me, we can be happy just mother and daughter, you can stay with me”
“But I haven’t lived yet, I don’t wanna leave Sammy or Dean and I can’t leave dad like that, I just got him back”
“It’s your choice baby, but either way I’m always with you” she said pointing at my necklace
A bright light above stung your eyes slowly coming into focus, seeing everyone surrounding you bed
“There she is, god sis you terrified us” Sam said wrapping his arms around you
“Princess why are you crying?” John asked worried your in pain
“I saw her” you whispered still in shock
“I think she still got drugs in her system” Dean laughed
“No I saw her, it was mom” everyone went still
“She said I could stay with her, wherever I was it was peaceful and free of evil but….i had to come back I just got you back dad and I can’t just leave my brothers you’ll tear eachother apart without me here” you smile
“I ain’t leaving anytime soon baby girl”
You went to sit up but pain shot through your body
“Good driving Sam, how is it you all look like you got in a little bar fight and I’m the one in this hospital bed…….any serious damage?”
“Doc said you got a concussion, broken rib and some nasty cuts on your face”
“But I’ll be okay?”
“We won’t let anything happen to you, never again”
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Requests are open for supernatural or the walking dead:)🩶
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roachingurcoach · 5 months ago
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okay I don't really know how to frame this. but like. funniest way to confirm Dean is Ben's dad is
20 year-old Ben takes a genetics test for fun or whatever, and the results he gets back are just batshit insane. it's like. oh hey. my biological father is a known serial killer who's still on the FBI's most wanted list and has been found or thought dead multiple times. and my uncle. and my grandfather. and my grandmother. and my--
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jasmines-library · 1 year ago
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I’m in love with the angst. Can you do a sister Winchester story where she’s at dinner with John and the boys and she starts choking
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Knock it off
Note: Sorry this took me so long to get to! I wasn't 100% sure what direction to take this in so it's a little short i'm sorry, but I hope it's okay.
warnings: Choking. J*hn Winchester (yes he is a warning)
Word count: 1k
⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤
It was an unusual occurrence for the four of you to be in one room at the same time, let alone sat crowded around a dinner table eating something other than diner food or one of those ready made meals that were convenient, but tasted like cardboard and had an aftertaste that stuck around for far too long, But nevertheless, there you were. You were crammed in between your brothers, your knees rubbed up against theirs and your elbows occasionally bumped into each other as you took forkfuls of food. 
There was an unmeasurable grin plastered across your face, reaching from one ear to the next. And there was one on your dad’s too. He was treasuring the moment, you were sure. The way his body relaxed into the wooden chair told you that much. With time left over after a hunt that went unusually well, he had decided to cook something so, a quick pit-stop and a few hours later, he had managed to produce a steaming tray of burgers from the motel’s half functioning grill, and whilst it was far from gourmet, and wasn't going to make up for his countless mistakes and poor parenting, or win him any ‘father of the year awards’, it was a gentle step in the right direction.
The sound of the tv playing listlessly in the background was drowned out almost completely by the chatter as you shared stories and memories, laughing at the few treasured moments that the four of you had shared. 
You were about halfway through the meal when it happened; suddenly your body was completely deprived of air. You began to work up a coughing fit, spluttering and cutting out the chatter completely as everyone turned to look at you. 
Dean deepened the creases between his eyes. “You okay there sweetheart?”
You nodded, trying to dismiss him with a thumbs up, but whatever was cutting off your airway wouldn't budge. Gasping for breath, you pushed your chair away from the table clutching at your chest. Your brothers were up in a flash frantically patting you on the back. It felt like hours before the offending piece budged and you took in air selfishly. 
A few rouge tears trailed down your face as Sam led you over to the edge of the bed, setting you down gently. He rubbed his hands soothingly up and down your arms as you hyperventilated, now taking in too much air with the thought of running out again persistent in your mind. 
“Deep breaths, Kiddo. Deep breaths.” He crouched down in front of you, taking your small hands in his and pressing a gentle kiss to them. 
You followed his breathing, inhaling deeply, then holding it, savouring it and then exhaling back out again, until finally your body remembered somewhat how it was supposed to function and your breathing steadied. 
Your dad came over hesitantly with a glass of cool water clutched gently in his hands. It was strange that even with all of his years hunting monsters, he still didn’t know how to act around his children when they were in distress. Fear gripped him tightly like a glove, taking over all of his control over his body. So, it took him a few moments to process what was happening before he actually made a move towards you. 
“You alright?” He queried as you took gentle sips of water, under the watchful eyes of your older brother, Dean. 
You nodded. “Yeah…”
Dean ran his hands over his face and let out a sigh. “Jesus, sweetheart. You scared the crap out of us.”
“Sorry…” You shrugged, pushing your shoulders up to your ears.
Sammy shook his head, tossing his hair around his face. “It was an accident.”
“Just remember to chew your food next time.” Dean quipped. He was always one to make a joke out of a serious situation to lighten the mood. He couldn’t stand the tension, it made him nauseous. 
You rolled your eyes and slapped him playfully on the chest. “Not cool.”
He turned his head. “You know I am.”
“Dude.” Sam said, giving his older brother a look. “Shut up.”
“What?! I am!”
He sighed. “If you say so.”
You just chuckled at their antics, glad that your incident didn’t ruin the tender moment between your family. You would always treasure little moments like these, with your brothers being your brothers, even if it meant spending time hauled up in a motel listening to the pair of them bicker. It was a reminder that sometimes, the three of you could be normal if only just for a precious moment.
⛤ MAIN MASTERLIST ⛤
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seasonofthenerd · 5 months ago
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Pov: You are the oldest Winchester kid
Aka Dean and Sam's Older Sister
PRE SEASON 1!!
Being dean and sam's older sister, John and Mary had you in 1976, 3 years before Dean was born, and 7 years before Sam was born
‌being 7 years old when Mary is killed by Azazel
‌Parentified soon after that as John became cynical with his revenge
‌Not being able to go to college due to obvious reasons
Going to Dean and Sam's ptms because John was absent father ™, and going to yours alone
‌Dropping Sam and Dean to school after passing out
‌Learning to drive and fix the impala at 15 from John because that'll help when you two are on hunts
‌Teaching Dean to drive when he is 16
‌Your relationships never work out
‌ Becoming a mom figure for Sam, and being Dean's support system
‌Being an expert at hunting and research
‌John taking you with him on hunting trips while Dean stayed back to take care of Sam
‌Having a lot of fights with John because of his behavior towards the boys
‌daddy issues™®©
‌Having many opportunities to run away and leave everything and everyone behind but not doing it for the sake of your brothers' future
‌Living in separate places than John after sam leaves for Stanford, providing dean with a safe place when he needs it, but still hunting with him.
I don't know if it's good it's just something I came up with randomly, if anyone reads please lmk if you are interested in more parts, thank you for reading!!
Also this is the first time I've ever written something and posted it on here (cries in panic and anxiety)
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princessxt · 2 months ago
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Hi! Could you do an imagine where dean and sam have a younger sister and she has a nightmare and ends up sleeping between her brothers?
omg, sorry for the delay, I really was lacking creativity!!
You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!
(Please don't be shy to ask, I'm very happy when I have a request to write)
You can see the list of who I write about here
"The Monster Is Gone"
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Pairing(s): Dean/Sam Winchester x Sister Reader
Gender: Angst, fluffy
Warnings: Nightmares, monsters, lots of blood and disturbing writing for more sensitive readers
——————♥︎♥︎——————
My childhood memories were never clear, only blurry images and meaningless phrases wandered through my mind when I tried hard to remember.
A part of me thanks my brain for not allowing me to remember, since I knew the images would be too disturbing for a budding teenager, but when Dad went hunting, disappeared and I had to be under the care of my older brothers during the hunts, everything changed.
I still remember when I had the first memory, it was after a hunt where a student came back from the dead seeking revenge. We were in the car, Dean was driving, and Sam was by his side, in silence while I was in the back seat, still processing the information of the case when the memory came. A blonde woman in pajamas ran through the hallways of a house with a child in her arms, who I soon realized was me.
Over the next few days, I began to dream about it, and as the dreams went on, the images became clearer. One day I realized it was nighttime, and the girl carrying me was wearing red pajamas. Two days later, I realized that the pajamas weren't red, they were white, but they were stained with blood. It was on that day that I started to avoid sleeping as much as possible, afraid of finding out whose blood was on her clothes.
That was 4 months ago, and during that time, each day that passed I saw a little more of that night, and now I knew that the woman was my mother, and the blood on her clothes was my father's, but the worst part was knowing that there was something following me and my mother.
I never told my brothers about this, I know they would be worried, and we have too many things to worry about, like ghosts and demons, and I didn't want to take their minds off work.
We were coming back from a hunt, Dean was driving, Sam was in the passenger seat sleeping, and I was in the back seat, trying my best to avoid falling asleep, but the book I had in my hands to keep me awake wasn't working, and little by little, I rested my head against the window, and fell asleep.
And there I was, crying in my mother's lap while she held me against her chest, with her body against the door, the thing that was chasing us walked calmly through the hallways, and slowly reached behind the door where we were. He knocked once. My mother put her hand over her mouth to keep from making noise. He knocked a second time. I could feel my mother's hands shaking. The third knock was so loud that my mother was pushed from the door, detaching me from her body. When we looked back, he was there.
He was tall, had no face, just a blood-stained mouth and sharp teeth. His fingers were long, and his nails were also stained with blood, just like the black suit he was wearing.
My mother, in an attempt to protect me, pushed me against the wall and covered me with her body, making a human shield. I could feel her tears wetting my pink pajamas as I heard her scream.
"NOT MY DAUGHTER, PLEASE! SHE'S JUST A CHILD"
In response, he let out a frightening laugh. In a few seconds, he pulled my mother and threw her to the floor, while she tried to fight, but the thing was strong and held her without effort. The next scene was the worst.
He opened his mouth, showing his huge teeth and then immediately struck her neck, making blood gush all over the room.
I watched that scene, cowering and scared in the corner of the room while I screamed, begging him to let my mother go, but that must have made him feel even hungrier for her, since he raised his long arm and struck her belly, cutting her skin with his sharp nails.
At that moment, I looked at my mother, who was staring at me with her lifeless eyes, wet with tears of pain.
"Y/N! Y/N, wake up!" I heard a voice call out
"Wake up! You need to wake up!" Again, and this time, louder.
At that moment I woke up. Sweaty, with irregular breathing and a dry throat. I looked ahead and saw Dean and Sam looking at me. We were stopped on a dark road.
"Is everything okay?" Dean asks, meanwhile, Sam opens the car door and gets out, opening the back one and getting in, sitting next to me.
"Okay, sure." I answer nervously, trying to compose myself.
"It didn't seem okay while you were screaming," Sam says, handing me a bottle of water, which I gladly accept.
"It was just a dream, I'm fine." I try to convince them, but by their faces, it hadn't worked.
"If it was just a dream, I'm even afraid to know your nightmares," Dean says and starts driving again.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam whispers in my ear, and I try to hold back the tears, while I just nod my head in agreement.
"There's a motel a few minutes from here, we'll spend the night there," Dean says and continues down the road.
It doesn't take long until we arrive at the motel. It was a classic roadside motel, but it was enough.
Dean and Sam get a single room for the two of them, and one for me.
I didn't plan on sleeping that night, so when the boys went to their rooms, I grabbed some snacks from a vending machine and went to my room, turning on the TV to a channel that was showing a series, with the intention of distracting myself from the memories.
I manage not to think about my dreams for 2 or 3 hours, but at one point, sleep begins to set in, and little by little my eyes close, but I always realize that I am about to fall asleep, and I wake up with a jolt. I turn off the television and go to the bathroom.
I take off the clothes I was wearing and get in the shower. The hot water hits the tense muscles in my shoulders and relaxes them in a few seconds. I close my eyes and throw my head back, wetting my hair and face. I massage my scalp with the intention of relaxing, but I quickly tense up when I feel a sudden cold, despite the hot water.
I step out of the shower and dry my eyes with my hands, and when I look at the curtain, I can see the shadow of something behind it. Something very similar to the Being from my memories.
With my heart racing and my breathing irregular, I open the curtain in a quick movement, but relax when I find nothing on the other side.
I turn off the shower, still confused and scared by what happened before, and put on some warm pajamas.
I think about lying back down on the bed and watching the series again, but I look at the bedside table and see the spare key to my brothers' room that Sam gave me in case of an emergency.
Without thinking much, I grab the key and go to the next room, unlocking it slowly, not wanting to alarm the boys.
I open the door and close it behind me, when I turn around, I see Sam, still awake, sitting on the couch that was in the room with a book in his hand.
"Hi, did something happen?" He says quietly and puts the book aside, coming to me.
"I'm scared." My eyes fill with tears and I hug him. I feel his big arms holding me tightly, bringing me closer to his chest.
"It's okay, little one. I'm here." He kisses the top of my head as I sob against his soft shirt.
"Come, lie down with us." He pulls away and goes to the bed.
"Dean, go over there." He pokes Dean's shoulder, making him wake up half-dazed and ready to curse his brother, but stops when he sees me crying next to the bed.
Dean pulls away and I lay down next to him, Sam laying down next to me, making me be between the two of them.
"You're safe with us," Dean whispers, going back to sleep.
"You don't have to tell me what you're afraid of, but know that I'm here for you when you're ready to tell me," Sam whispers behind me.
"I'm having dreams. Actually, they're not dreams, they're memories from my childhood, before Dad adopted me. In these memories, a monster or whatever it was killed my father and mother, right in front of me."
"You don't have to be afraid. Dad told us about this story. He came when the monster was on top of your mother and killed it before it had a chance to hurt you. Sleep, and don't worry about your dreams, the monster is gone, it's dead, and your brothers are here to protect you from anything."
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all-yourn · 10 months ago
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dean winchester & “gibson girl” by ethel cain [on youtube]
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winchesterdefender · 30 days ago
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And Then There Were Three | Winchester Sister I
Summary - A baby shows up on the Winchester's doorstep, and their entire lives change.
Pairings/characters - John Winchester, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Meg Winchester (OFC), Sam & Dean Winchester x little sister, John Winchester x daughter
Warnings - very mild cursing, John Winchester
Language - English (British)
Word Count - 3,096
Notes - This is the first instalment of the Winchester Sister series featuring my OFC Meg Winchester! Please be kind <3
Credits - dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics
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Dean Winchester was strong. He was brave, and fierce. He fought monsters - has done his whole life, as long as he can remember. He liked to think he was unbreakable, invincible. The hits kept coming, and he kept taking them. Fear, pain, worry - he pushed it all down, kept it locked away. In some ways, he had a heart of ice. He never broke.
Dean Winchester was strong.
And then one day, just before he turned nineteen, a baby appeared on a motel doorstep. A baby who wasn't his, but was. Would always be. A baby in a pram, with a note addressed to John Winchester, a note that eased the fears this baby was his, but it would be his, really. John Winchester was never a father. Not to him, not to Sam, and therefore not to this baby.
It was early October, and already Maine was cold. Dean's breath clouded in front of him in the cool, dark night. A glance around the parking lot revealed nobody, no cars, nothing to indicate where this baby had come from. His first instinct was to bring the baby in from the cold, and he did, careful to fix the salt line the wheels of the pram disturbed.
The first thing that struck Dean was that this kid was definitely a Winchester. They were a carbon copy of baby Sammy, same little button nose and eyes, barely any hair gracing their head. A memory tugged at the corners of his mind, four years old and holding Sammy for the first time, his mom supporting Sam's head while dad took a picture. Still a kid with two parents but keenly aware of his responsibility, of how his centre of gravity had shifted from himself to his baby brother.
But his mom wasn't here now and Dean would have to support this baby's head on his own. And his dad hadn't taken pictures of his kids since Mary died. So his centre of gravity shifted again to the baby in the pram. Another of John Winchester's kids for Dean to raise. Part of him was angry, part of him defeated. Sammy was fourteen, able to look after himself now. Dean didn't have to worry about him in the same way - Sam fed himself, did his homework, all that crap. Dean had almost been free.
But he couldn't blame the baby. He didn't. It didn't ask for this. Didn't understand anything. Dean reached a hand down, pulled the little yellow blanket away from their face. It was small, smaller than Sammy had been, and not just because Dean was grown now and over six foot. Small in a way that told him this baby was young. Small in a way that put fear into him. Small in a way that made him desperate to protect them from the horrors and cruelty of their world.
He felt sick knowing he could never protect them from that. From their lives. This baby was a Winchester, which basically meant it was fucked.
The bathroom door opened, and Sam walked out.
"What is that?" he asks, damp hair curling against his forehead.
"A baby," Dean replies, still looking down at them.
"A what?" Sam asks incredulously, crossing the room to stand by his brother. He looked down and saw there was, in fact, a baby. "The hell did this come from?"
"Was on the doorstep. Came with this." Dean said, handing Sam the unopened letter addressed to their father.
"It's dad's?" Sam was having a hard time digesting all this. He had to admit, his first thought was it was Dean's. "Where even is he?"
"Bar, I think. Reckon he knows about it?"
"If he knew he had another kid out there, don't ya think he would've mentioned it?"
"Yeah, 'cos Dad's a real open book." Dean replied. Sam turned the envelope over and made to open. "What're you doing? Don't do that, is addressed to Dad."
"Figured this might give us some answers. Maybe a name for the mystery baby."
Dean snatched the letter from his brother. "We ain't reading this til Dad has."
"Is Dad dating anyone?" Sam asked. "He's never mentioned anyone."
Dean shrugged a shoulder. "Doubt Dad dates. Probably a one time thing."
"And after he gave me the safe sex talk. Hypocrite." Sam said. Dean shot him a pointed look but didn't say anything. After all, Sam wasn't wrong. Dean'd received the John Winchester safe sex talk, too (an uncomfortable memory).
As if summoned, the rumble of the Impala's engine and the beams of her headlights signalled their father's arrival. The brothers exchanged a look, knowing that a mystery baby showing up on their doorstep would not go down well with John Winchester. Dean didn’t know why, but he positioned himself in front of the pram, standing between the baby and the door John would walk through. Sam copied him.
The door opened and John walked in, stepping over the salt line. He nodded his head towards his sons, locking the door and shrugging off his leather jacket. He turned around; neither Sam nor Dean had moved, or even said anything.
"What?" he asked gruffly.
"Um, so something kinda... turned up. For you." Dean started. John cocked an eyebrow.
"This ain't exactly our forwarding address. What is it and how'd it get here?" John asked, heading to the fridge for a beer.
"Well... it's..." Dean figured it was easier to just show him, so he stepped to the side and motioned for Sam to do the same.
John nearly dropped his beer. He immediately fixed his gaze on Dean.
"What did you do?" he asked. Dean sighed. Why'd everyone assume it was his?
"It's yours," Sam said bluntly, taking the letter from Dean's hand and holding it out for him. "Showed up on the doorstep with this."
This time John did drop his beer.
The bottle smashed on the floor, glass and alcohol flying everywhere. The sudden noise startled the baby awake, and they promptly burst out crying. John reached for the letter, Sam for a broom, which left Dean with the baby.
He gently lifted them out of the pram, careful of their head. The yellow blanket fell away slightly, revealing a light pink romper underneath. Presumably a girl then. A little sister. Dean rocked them gently, the way he remembers his mother doing with Sam, quietly shushing to calm her down.
In his arms, he was again struck by how small she was. He held her easily in just two hands, one under her head, the other on her back. She opened her eyes then, wide and blue like all babies, taking in the motel room around them before settling on Dean's face.
"Hello, you," he whispered, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I'm your big brother." His heart clenched in his chest as he held her.
"What's the letter say?" Sam asks, knelt on the floor to pick up the glass. John was staring intently at the letter in his hands.
"It's from her mother. Says she can't look after a baby. Too young."
"Jesus, Dad. How young?" Sam asks. Dean groans inwardly. Not the time for this, Sam.
"What the hell are you trying to ask?" John fired back. "She was early twenties. Drinking age, anyway. I don't know why the hell she'd think I'm any more capable of this than she would be. How the hell'd she even find us?" Sam and Dean both shrugged. How were they to know?
"What's her name?" Dean asked, still swaying gently back and forth.
"Amanda something. Don't really remember, to be honest. It was two nights. The sex was alright, nothing special. Didn't exchange numbers."
Sam and Dean cringed. They did not need details.
"I meant the baby, Dad." Dean replied. John at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.
"Right, of course. Says here..." He scanned the letter. "Margaret." Dean screwed up his nose. That's an old lady name. His little sister was going to be cool, and that couldn't happen with a name like Margaret.
"That's a terrible name for a baby," Dean said aloud, looking down at her. "She doesn't look like a Margaret."
"Meg March was actually a Margaret," Sam said. John and Dean looked at him, perplexed. "Little Women? Louisa May Alcott?" More blank stares. Sam just rolled his eyes.
"Meg." Dean repeats, squinting his eyes at the baby. It fit. "Meg Winchester."
"It doesn't matter what she's called," John said. "We ain't keeping it." Dean's head snapped up.
"What?" Dean asked incredulously.
"How the hell are we going to look after a baby, Dean?" John asked. "We don't have a house, or any baby supplies. We're always on the move. We're hunters, not nannies. I spent two nights with a woman a year ago and then a baby appears. Kid's probably not even mine anyway. We'll take her to a fire station or something."
Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. They'd managed before. Sammy had been but six months old when they started hunting, and Dean - though he tried - hadn't been able to help out as much as he could now. This baby was family. Family is everything to the Winchester's.
"Course she's yours, Dad, look at her! She's a spitting image of Sammy as a baby. Besides, Sam was a baby and we raised him on the road. You can't just abandon her." Dean cried out.
"Maybe Dad is right, Dean. She'd be better off with a family - "
"We're her family! The three of us."
"A real family, with a mom, a dad, a house. She'd be normal, Dean, safe. We can't give her any of that!" Sam replied. True, he was projecting his own dreams onto a baby, but he had a valid point, or so he thought. All Dean heard, however, was that Sam didn't believe they were a real family.
"We are a real family, Sam. Just because we don't have a white picket fence, don't mean we ain't a real family. Besides, you really want this kid growing up in the system? Anything could happen to her!"
"Anything could happen to her here, Dean! All it takes is - is a spirit, or a pissed off monster out for revenge, and she-"
"But we can protect her from that. You think some civilian family would keep her safe if a monster decided to get revenge, Sammy? You have know idea what happens in the foster system. She could be abused, or trafficked, or-"
"Enough!" John snapped loudly, startling the baby again. He couldn't hear himself think. And he did need to think, long and hard, about what was best for them, and for the baby. Sam made a good point, of course, and God knows John's not equipped to look after a baby. But Dean was right, too. Anything could happen to her out there. "Sam, get me a beer."
Sam sighed but did as he was told. John walked over to Dean, who was gently rocking the baby to settle her after John's outburst. He looked at the baby for the first time, really looked at her. Dean was right; she was a carbon copy of baby Sam. And she was cute, too. Dean, admittedly, had been a funny looking baby, especially as a newborn, a squished face and large head he eventually grew into. But this baby - Meg, he reminded himself - was sweet looking, almost doll-like, with her pouty pink lips and button nose.
He and Mary had never talked about more kids - Sam had only been a baby when she died - but he'd always imagined them having one or two more, and he'd always wanted a little girl. Mary had, too, he had no doubt.
But Mary wasn't here, and this wasn't her baby. Part of him felt guilty, as though he'd been unfaithful, despite the fact she'd been dead almost fifteen years. John thought of his own father then, Henry, who'd taken off when John was only four, leaving him and his mother on their own. Even all these years later, he still felt bitter about it - bitter and hurt. Of course it hurt, knowing your own father didn't want you and took off into the night. And that's what he was about to do to this little girl. Her mother had already bailed. John was all she had left.
John, and his boys. Sam had kept his distance, almost wary of the baby in Dean's arms, but Dean - he was whipped. That was the only word for it. He was smiling softly down at her, cooing gently to soothe her. Deep down, John knew Dean would end up doing more for this baby than he ever could. But maybe that was a good thing. Dean wouldn't make the mistakes John did. Wouldn't leave her alone like he did, leave her to raise herself.
The guilt twisted in his gut like a knife, but he knew what he had to do.
"We'll keep her. It'll be safest for her. We'll... we'll make it work somehow. We'll have to." John said, placing a large, calloused hand gently on his daughter's head. Dean looked up at him with Mary's green eyes, raw hope etched onto his face.
"Yeah?" He asked softly. John nodded once, clapping his eldest son gently on the shoulder. Sam handed him a beer, then stood on Dean's other side.
"Can I hold her?" Sam asked. Dean looked reluctant to let her go.
"Be careful. She's really small and can't hold her head up on her own yet, so make sure you support it. Don't drop her, for God's sake." Dean rambled on as he gently shifted the infant into Sam's open arms, already fretting like a mother hen. John smiled softly at his children - all three of them.
Sam smiled at the baby, rocking her gently the way Dean had. "Hi, Meg. I'm gonna be your favourite big brother." He said. Dean rolled his eyes.
"No way, Sammy. I'm already her favourite."
"That's crap, she doesn't speak, can't even smile. You don't know that."
"Sure she can, she smiled at me just now."
"Yeah, that was gas, Dean. She farted on you." Sam replied, and Dean's smile faltered.
"Speaking of," Dean said, changing the conversation abruptly. "We're gonna need supplies. Diapers, a car seat, formula."
John nodded, moving to the pram that Meg had turned up in. There was a bag in the basket underneath the bassinet. John leafed through it quickly. "There's some stuff here," he said, holding up a muslin cloth and some diapers. "Enough for tonight, at least. We'll find somewhere in town tomorrow that sells baby stuff. Maybe pick up a book, too."
"A baby book?" Sam asked. "Why'd you need that?"
"It's been a long time since I did any of this, Sammy. Besides, I didn't do it on my own before, I was working a lot. Your mom... your mom looked after you guys most. Did all the hard stuff." John admitted quietly. The room fell into reverent silence the way it always did when someone brought up Mary. Sam didn't point out that he'd still been a baby when she died, and John had raised him for most of life alone. It didn't seem like the time. But a book seemed overboard, in Sam's opinion. How hard could a baby be?
Only a minute or so later, Sam's question was answered. Meg began fussing in his arms, quietly at first, but getting louder despite Sam's gentle shushing and swaying. When her cries turned to wails, he looked up at his father and brother, panic in his eyes. "I think I broke her."
It was Dean that stepped forward, plucking the baby from his arms. "You didn't break her," he assured Sam. John stepped up too, looking down at the infant whose fist she was trying to squeeze into her mouth.
"See how she's sucking her hand?" John spoke quietly. "Mean's she's hungry. C'mon Sam, I'll show you how to make a bottle. If I can work it out, that is."
Sam and John stepped away to prepare the formula. Dean watched them as he swayed the baby. "It's okay, princess. Daddy and Sammy will get you some food."
Dean watched his father, usually so confident and self assured in everything he did, falter at almost every step. Checking the instructions on the formula, then checking again. Rinsing a bottle and filling it with hot water. Hands hesitant, unsure of what they were doing. Hands that could assemble a shot gun in under a minute, but seemed to tremble as he shook the bottle. Testing the temperature on his palm, his wrist, then his wrist again. He had no idea how warm it should be.
Although it was strange to see John so unsteady, Dean found it strangely... comforting. Humanising, perhaps. He pictured briefly John doing the same thing for him as a baby, the unsure hands of a first time father. Pictured his mom along side, walking him through each step.
John handed the formula to Dean. "You gonna do it?" he asked. Dean nodded. He didn't want to relinquish the baby, even though John hadn't even held her yet. Although, he'd made no move to hold her either. John talked him through it, how to hold the bottle, at what angle, as best he could remember.
Dean paced slowly around the small living space of their motel room with his sister in his arms. Sam had pulled out some homework, John writing something in his journal, beer in hand. But for Dean, it was just him and his sister in the world. Hell, his sister was his world now.
Dean Winchester was strong.
But he could feel his heart thawing out for the baby in his arms. He knew he needed to be strong for her, yet he'd never felt so weak. The fear of what could happen to her, the need to keep her safe, was almost overwhelming. Was this parenthood?
The love, too, he supposed was overwhelming. The kind that made his heart clench, made him want to fix the world for her and burn it down at the same time. The kind he'd kill and die for.
And somehow, despite everything he'd seen and done in only eighteen years, this was the scariest thing he'd encountered to date. He kept it together for her. He was strong. He had to be.
He's Dean Winchester.
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athena-xiii · 7 months ago
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So I’m rewatching supernatural and the way Dean just shuts down around his dad will never fail to fuck me up.
Dean is the kinda guy who you’d assume has the fight drama response. He’s loud, impulsive, cocky, and brash. He is not any of those things around John. His trauma response is fawn. I know because it’s mine too. Conforming to what someone wants to keep them happy.
You bend yourself any way they ask until you break. Sometimes you’re never able to find your way back to your original shape. Sometimes you’ve been doing since such a young age that there wasn’t time for you to be your own shape before you were moulded.
Dean Winchester was parentified in a way that is usually seen most in eldest daughters. Which is why he resonates with me so much.
God I hate this show it makes me feel so many things
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 26 days ago
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Safe Distance
John Winchester & daughter!reader, Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: you visit Sam at Stanford, and he makes promises that he doesn’t keep
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You were crazy. Actually, you were beyond crazy. They needed a new, more dramatic version of the word crazy to describe you.
Not to mention, your dad was going to kill you.
Taking John’s money for a nonessential was enough to at least tick him off a bit. Not asking first was just blatantly disobeying him. Using it to sneak out in the middle of the night and take a bus out of town was basically asking for major punishment.
But going to see Sam? Oh, that was the nail in your coffin.
Dad hadn’t even talked about Sam since the day he left. Well, since the day after he left. The night Sam ditched the family for college, John pretended to be stoic for a couple of hours while he drank, but after half a dozen beers and Dean going to bed…
It was the only time you’d ever seen your father cry.
But since then, nothing; not a word about Sam, not a phone call, not even vague mentions. You got the message clearly—Sam didn’t exist anymore. You knew deep down that dad didn’t mean what he said about never letting Sam come back. You knew that if Sam ever decided to walk through those doors again, dad would be (secretly) overjoyed, and Sam would be allowed to stay. But now, while he was gone, while he was at college, the rule was clear; no talking to Sam. That didn’t mean you’d ever followed it—you’d tried to call Sam whenever you could sneak Dean’s phone (dad had taken yours the first time he caught you trying to call Sam); Sam had just never picked up.
You’d tried to live with just not talking to Sam, you really had, but you just couldn’t do it anymore. You had to see him, you had to convince him that his family still loved him, still wanted him back.
So here you were, on a bus in the middle of the night, your sleeping father and brother none the wiser to your crazy antics.
You were going to see Sam.
John was beside himself. He was forcing himself to take deep breath after deep breath so that he didn’t snap at Dean—he didn’t blame Dean, after all; he blamed himself. His eleven year old was missing from the motel room, and he didn’t even know where to begin looking.
“Dad!”
John was about to tell his son not to distract him, but he saw the paper Dean was waving—a note?
“Give me that.” John grabbed the paper from Dean and scanned down it quickly. “I’m safe. I’ll be back soon.” John scoffed. “Is she insane? This says nothing! She knows better than this! She could be anywhere, and we can’t protect her!”
“At least we know she left willingly,” Dean offered. “Nothing took her.”
“Yeah.” John ran a hand over his face. “Yet.”
You arrived at Stanford without incident, but your anxiety was mounting with every second. Was this a horrible idea? What if you couldn’t even find Sam? What if Dean and Dad figured out where you were, and they were already waiting on campus in the Impala? A car ride would have been much shorter than the bus you took—which was why you left your note vague in the first place.
You shook off your worries as you stepped onto campus. You were here to see Sam, and you weren’t going to let anything stop you.
You had no idea how to find him, so you did the only thing you could think of—
“Excuse me, have you seen this guy?” You were walking around campus as classes got out, interrupting the endless stream of people as you showed a picture you kept of Sam to as many people as you could get to look your way. You had no way of knowing if Sam was using his real name or an alias, so a visual representation was your best bet. Besides, Sam was always the friendly one—chances were, someone around here knew him. However, it wasn’t going well so far.
“Are you lost, honey?” asked a concerned-looking college student.
“I think that guy is in my metal-working class,” some guy offered. You doubted it—and besides, he didn’t offer any information about where Sam might be now.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be here,” said another student—why was everyone so useless?
“Hey, I know that guy.” You turned your head when someone tapped your shoulder and pointed at your picture. “You’re looking for Sam?”
You nodded. “He’s my brother—I’m trying to surprise him.”
“He’s probably back at his apartment. It’s only about a block away, c’mon I’ll show you—I just got out of classes for the day.”
“I can find it if you tell me the address,” you offered shyly.
“And let Sam Winchester’s kid sister wander the streets? Heck no, your big brother would kill me.” The man chuckled, but you couldn’t tell if he was joking. “Follow me, kid.”
The kind stranger led you right up to Sam’s door before turning right back around and leaving. You found yourself standing alone on Sam’s porch, your hand twitching as if you couldn’t get up the strength to knock.
What if he didn’t want to see you? You’d always had a little voice in the back of your mind telling you it was your fault Sam left; normally the voice was tiny, because you knew that Sam left because he hated hunting, not you. But right now, standing in front of his doorway after a whole year, the voice was a whole lot louder.
Dad and Dean are gonna murder you for doing this, another voice said. You’d better make it worth it.
You were lifting your hand to knock when it opened.
“Whoa—Y/N?” Sam was halfway out the door when he froze in his tracks, inches from bumping into you.
“He-hey Sammy.” You cursed the stutter in your voice as you rocked back and forth on your heels. “Surprise.”
“What are you doing here?” Sam was looking around behind you. “You didn’t—I mean—are Dad and Dean—“
“I’m alone,” you assured him. “I just…I wanted to see you.”
“Do they know you’re here?”
“If they knew, I wouldn’t be here.” You took in your big brother—his hair longer, his clothes new—and noticed that he had a jacket half on. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Nowhere important.” Sam waved it off. “Why don’t you come on in?” Sam stepped back inside, and you followed him. “Dad’s gonna kill you.”
“Probably,” you mumbled, still rocking awkwardly. Sam’s arms suddenly around you both surprised you and put you at ease. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging tightly to your big brother. You hadn’t really been sure if he’d want to see you, or if things would be awkward, but Sam was just glad you were here.
“I missed you,” Sam admitted.
“I missed you too. It’s so weird in the motels alone.”
Sam pulled away suddenly. “They leave you alone?”
“When they’re on hunts.” You shrugged. “They don’t have another choice.” At Sam’s guilty silence, you kept going. “I didn’t mean—I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Sam. I just wanted to come see you.”
Sam’s attempted reply was cut short by the ringing of his cell phone. “It’s Dean,” he said when he looked at the number.
“Don’t answer!” You pleaded, but he’d already put the phone to his ear.
“Hey Dean.” Sam’s voice was strained as he spoke. His eyes met yours as he went silent, listening to Dean on the other end.
“Don’t tell him I’m here,” you whispered. “Sam please don’t tell him.”
“Yeah Dean.” Sam averted his gaze from your eyes. “Yeah she’s here. Ok. I’ll see you then.” He hung up.
“Why did you do that?” You demanded.
“Honey, you’ve gotta go back home,” Sam reasoned. “You’re not supposed to be here. And even though me, Dad, and Dean have had our fights, I’m not gonna let them freak out thinking some monster got you.”
“I know,” you mumbled, your lip quivering. “I just…I wanted to get away with it for a little longer.”
“Hey…” Sam gave you a quick hug before pulling away again. “Listen, Dean said they won’t be here for a few hours. Let me show you some of my favorite spots around here, ok?”
You gave Sam a watery smile.
“Sounds great.”
Sam took you to a local ice cream shop and walked you past everywhere he and his friends hung out. He introduced you to a pretty girl named Jess—Sam called her his “friend”, but he blushed while he talked to her.
After a few hours out with him, Sam took you back to his apartment to wait for Dean and John. You were sitting on Sam’s couch, catching each other up on the past year.
“You’re happy,” you said suddenly. It wasn’t a question.
“I am.” Sam was smiling. “And I miss you guys—I do—but I had to do this. I had to live my own life.”
“I-I know.” You stared down at your fidgeting hands. “I always understood it, I just…that didn’t stop it from hurting.”
“Hey, when you grow up, you can do the same thing. You can go to college, find your own life.”
You shook your head. “I don’t think I’m brave enough for that.”
“Are you kidding?” Sam laughed. “You left Dad and Dean to come find me, the pariah. And you’re just eleven! You’re brave enough to do whatever you want.”
“It’s not about leaving,” you admitted. “It’s about staying away. I can’t…I couldn’t be on my own like you can. I’d miss everyone too much.”
“Hey.” Sam put a hand on your shoulder, and you lifted your gaze to his eyes. “When you’re old enough, come find me. Dad and Dean might not want to talk to you if you go to college, but I’ll be here for you, I promise.”
“You…you will?”
“Hey, you’re still my little sister. I—“
Sam stopped when he heard the distinct sound of Baby’s engine just outside the door.
“They’re here.” You swallowed hard.
Sam walked you to his door, letting you hold onto his hand like you used to do when you were little.
Dean was already standing on Sam’s porch when Sam opened the door.
“Hey,” Dean greeted his brother, rubbing the back of his neck. He turned to you quickly. “You’re dead, by the way. Get in the Impala.”
Dean gave a quick nod to Sam, turning to get back in the car with you trailing just behind him, your feet dragging.
At the last second, you turned and dashed back towards Sam.
“Hey!” Dean called out, and at this point John Winchester started to emerge from the driver’s seat of the Impala. He was just opening his mouth to threaten you to get into the car when he stopped.
You were throwing your arms around your big brother for a last goodbye…or at least that’s what your father and Dean thought.
“Please come back,” you whimpered. “I know I said I understand, but I can’t do it anymore. I don’t wanna be alone anymore, please come back, please. I don’t want to leave you again.”
“Honey…” Sam closed his eyes, holding you in a vice grip one last time before pulling away. “Honey you have to go. And I have to stay. Hey, hey—“ he soothed when you started to cry. “I’ll call you. I promise.”
“You will?” You sniffled.
“Of course. Now get going, you don’t wanna keep Dad waiting.”
You wrapped your arms around Sam’s neck. “I love you.”
Sam kissed your forehead. “I love you too, kiddo. Now get out of here.”
You pulled away, turning finally to get in the car. Sam’s eyes lingered on his father first—who gave him a curt nod—then on his brother—whose hand lifted in an almost-wave before he dropped back into the Impala.
Sam stepped back into his apartment, but he couldn’t resist letting his eyes drift to the scene as he closed to door; John wrapped you in his arms the moment you got close enough, but after a brief moment of relief Sam could hear John start to scold you as the doors closed to both Baby and Sam’s apartment.
Sam tossed his bag into the back of the Impala, almost surprised when he saw you sitting in the back.
“Hey honey,” he greeted with a strained smile. You just stared at him.
“You brought her,” Sam directed quietly at Dean as Dean approached him.
“I wasn’t gonna drive halfway across the country without her,” Dean answered. “Especially not with dad missing.”
It had been three years since Sam had seen his family, and you had grown a lot.
“We should get going,” Dean said, and Sam hesitantly climbed into the Impala.
“You should get some sleep,” Dean directed at you. “I know you were faking it on the way here.”
“I’m fine,” you muttered.”
“Uh huh,” Dean scoffed. “Sure.”
Dean clicked on his radio, and Sam wasn’t surprised to hear the usual Metallica. He was just thinking to himself that the drum solos were even longer than usual when Dean spoke again.
“Out like a light.”
“What?” Sam asked. Dean gestured in the backseat, and Sam saw you fast asleep, your mouth hanging open and Dean’s jacket clutched in your arms.
“Those drum solos put her out every time,” Dean chuckled. Sam felt a pang somewhere deep in his gut—he never would’ve known how to get you to sleep.
There was a lot he didn’t know about you.
Sam was returning from the gas station with some snacks when he saw you talking animatedly with Dean—you had a big grin on your face and you were waving a book around. The moment Sam got close, the grin slowly faded and you changed the subject abruptly.
“Are we ready?” You asked quietly.
“Uh…yeah,” Dean said, also sensing the change. “Let’s get going.”
“What are you reading?” Sam asked as the Impala started up, hoping to coax you out of your shell. You just held up the book, letting it cover your face so Sam could see the title. “Ok,” Sam sighed, turning his attention back to the stretch of road.
“Are you ok?” You jumped up from the desk in the cheap motel when your big brothers stumbled into the room after a little run in with the woman in white.
“Fine, I’m fine,” Dean promised, even though Sam had watched him take a serious beating.
“No you’re not,” you said immediately, going for the first aid kit. “Sit,” you commanded.
Sam was surprised—he’d never seen you this assertive in the eleven years he’d grown up with you. Three years had done a lot to you.
Sam watched from the corner of the room while you and Dean worked silently in an odd rhythm, like you’d done this a thousand times before.
Dean stripped off his flannel, leaving him in just a gray T-shirt and exposing his cuts to your attentive care. You were just starting to disinfect one of his cuts when Sam reached around you to grab the first aid kit for himself.
“Nuh-uh.” Sam flinched when you slapped his hand away and pointed at the spot on the bed next to Dean. “Wait in line.”
Sam stared at you in surprise for a minute, but you were focused on wrapping Dean’s arm, so Sam just sat down.
“Ok go take a shower,” you told Dean when you were done. “You smell like dead people.”
Dean scoffed, but he didn’t argue.
“It’s just this,” Sam told you as he lifted his pant leg to reveal a long—but not too deep—cut across his shin. He’d gotten it when he smashed baby through a house; he was surprised Dean didn’t kill him for that.
“There’s splinters in it,” you said almost to yourself while you grabbed a pair of tweezers.
Silence reigned for several minutes while you painstakingly removed the tiny splinters from Sam’s cut.
“You didn’t call,” you said finally.
Sam had expected this moment to come. “I…I know.”
“Did…” you swallowed hard, and Sam noticed your hand shaking slightly. “Did I do something?”
“What?” Sam grabbed your hand to get your attention. “No, no you didn’t do anything.”
Your lip was quivering. “Then why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t…” Sam sighed. “I didn’t mean to lie. I did want to call you, I just—well, first I was afraid that Dean or Dad would answer, since I only have their numbers. Then I…I thought about all the things that could have happened to you on the way to visit me that time. How many monsters could’ve gotten you because you left Dad and Dean for me. I didn’t want to encourage that…so I thought it was best if I stayed away.”
“I thought I did something wrong.” You pulled your hand away from Sam’s, forcing yourself to continue fixing his leg. “I-I thought maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”
The past tense of your words didn’t fool Sam—you still felt that way, he could tell.
“No,” he assured you. “That’s not it, that could never be it. I wish I could be with you more, it’s just…you’re not old enough to choose a life, and lingering in the middle of both is the most dangerous place to be. I know a lot has happened, but I’m still your big brother, and I had to take care of you. I thought…I thought that meant staying away.”
“Ok,” you sniffled.
“But I meant what I said,” Sam continued. “If you want out at 18, come find me. Really.”
“Ok,” you said again. “Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m…glad you’re here now.”
Sam grinned—albeit a little halfheartedly, knowing that he was returning to Stanford in the morning.
“Yeah, me too kiddo.”
“So…” a wry smile found its way onto your face. “How’s that friend of yours? Jess, right? Dean said she was in your apartment.”
“Blabbermouth,” Sam muttered under his breath.
“Well, I think this leg of yours needs stitches, so you’ve got plenty of time to tell me about this girlfriend of yours.”
Sam chuckled. Maybe you hadn’t changed all that much.
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castiwls · 9 months ago
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"sacrifice, that's what we do for the people we love"
being the middle child in the winchester family...
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I’d imagine you being like two years younger than Dean and two years older than Sam. So like literally the middle child
Your memories of your mum are fuzzy but you can recall a few things
When Mary died you were only two so you didn’t really understand what was going on for a while.
When you all first left Lawernce you spent most of that first night in a motel room crying because you wanted your mom and your bed. (Dean had to comfort you cause John left his two toddlers and baby alone in a motel #dadoftheyear)
When you were like ten your dad told you about what he had been doing for the past eight years. You were terrified but he made you promise not to tell Sam. He also made sure you knew that it was your job to keep Sam safe. 
Basically, you stopped being a child at ten.
You and your brothers were really close.
You and Dean basically trauma-bonded over hunting and also having wayyyy too much responsibility at a young age. 
Out of you and Dean, you were more emotionally available so Sam tended to tell you more.
As he got older he would talk to you about getting out and stuff. While your dad and Dean were very much into hunting you and Sam were more of on the sidelines. 
Sam got his love of reading from you. He’d always tell you about the books he was reading and what he was doing in class.
You’re the mediator for the family. It was always you who broke up fights. You were also able to calm your father down.
Mentioning in a passing comment that you didn’t want to hunt when you were like 15 and John flipped.
“If you don’t want to help kill the thing that killed your mom then you can get out.”
So you did. You left at 15 for 6 months.
In reality, you went to stay with Bobby but you never told your dad that.
Dean begged you to stay and would call every day. So would Sam.
Around this time Sam also started to want to leave. 
“I wanna come stay with you.” You sighed leaning against the wall. The phone rested between your ear and shoulder. “You can't Sam. Dad would flip your too young.” He let out a frustrated noise but let the topic go. (for now)
Dean would also call often and beg you to come home.
“Look he didn’t mean it, alright. It was just a heat of the moment thing.”
You did eventually come back. (Bobby wasn’t happy but let you go)
Your brothers were overjoyed and you actually got an apology from your dad (shocker.)
Things were ok for a few years and then Sam got a bit older and started talking about school. He’d only talk to you about it though. It wasn’t that Dean hated the idea but he didn't understand.
One day when you were 18 and he was 16 Sam asked to talk in private. So you took him to a dinner near the motel and he told you about Stanford.
“One of my teachers thinks it's possible.” He pushed the pamphlet towards you. “I just need a signature from an adult and I know Dad won't sign it.” You quietly looked over the pamphlet for a moment. A sense of pride washed over you as well as relief. This was his way out. “Of course, I’ll sign it.”
You both kept it quiet for the next year and when his acceptance letter came in you both kept it to yourselves but you were so proud
#proud parent moment.
Though eventually, Dean found the letter. 
“Did you know about this?” He asked holding up the letter. You felt your blood run cold as you grabbed the letter from him. “Yes. I did know.” You admitted. “It was me who signed the papers.” Your brother's eyes widened a look of betrayal crossed his face. “Why would you do that?” His voice began to rise as he spoke. “Because Sam deserves a future Dean.”
You two didn’t speak for a while after that. Dean got over it though.
When it came time for Sam to leave that's when all hell broke loose.
You’d never heard your dad yell so loud. He and Sam went back and forth for hours until your younger brother just walked out. You and Dean both followed him. After calming him down you went with him to the bus and said goodbye.
Dean was kinda non-plussed (inside he hated it and was worried sick). You were worried but happy that he was getting out.
When you and Dean went back to the motel John was furious. He blamed you (of course)
“This is your fault. You're the one who put all those ideas in his head and look what happened.”
Dean jumped in front of you and told him to back off. 
“Sam’s his own person you can’t blame her for this!”
After this, you and Dean get closer. John starts taking more hunts alone meaning that you and Dean spend a lot of time just driving around.
You would probably class this as the first time in your life you felt truly happy. Hunting with Dean was easier and there were fewer arguments.
Sam would call u often to update you. When he told you that he’d met a girl you were so happy for him. (it really seemed he got out)
But then your dad went missing and Dean insisted on getting Sam to help.
You were glad to have both your brothers back but at the same time felt insanely guilty as you watched Sam fall back into hunting.
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ellieslittleburrow · 2 months ago
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Staining the Winchester car
Summary : You accidently stain John Winchester's car. How's he going to react to that?
Pairings : John Winchester x Daughter!reader
Warnings : mensturation
A/N : Sorry if this isn't how you'd imagined things, yall. I'd personally die if this happened to me so i wanted to do something that's kind of in between.
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The roads are especially slippery when rain threatened to fall, clouds dominate the skies and paint a bluiesh hue over the landscape.
To some, such times are gloomy and sad but that's not the case for your dad, he always hums to any song that plays on the radio, like the one that's playing now. As he pulls up to the marketplace, you unbuckle your seatbelt and ready yourself to leave.
"Kid, why are you in such a hurry." He chuckles and you just giggle, as you get up. But a sudden tug yanks your shirt downwards, sending you bumping into your father and nearly crashing into the gearbox.
"Uh" You turn around, an accusatory expression etched across your face when you notice the features on your father's. Avoidant eyes, resting eyebrows.
"What?" Your tone is wary. And when your father coughs uncomfortably, your irritation becomes more evident. You want to understand. "Whaat?!!" You whine.
Your father blows a sigh and- "The seat...Your pants are stained...The seat-"
No...
Your fingers slid smoothly over the wetness of the seat, causing your eyes to widen and panic to course through you, followed by shame.
"I-" You stammered ,shifting around , unsure of- "Dad,i'm so sorry-i'm so-so embrrassed i'm so sosrry-fuck-the car."
John Winchester cared way too much about his stupid car, and you just stained it. He'd probably extremely f-
"It's okay- kid hey-"
He doesn't mean that- he fights Dean if the boy leaves a single tissue around.
"No-Dad- i'M sorry-I really am-I"
Liar. Although he sounded thruthfull, you knew that he was lying. He'd kill Dean if the man left a tissue in the car-
"Calm. Down."
"No-I swear-I-"
"HEY-Calm. Down."
His sudden change of tone snaps you out of your panic, forcing you to go quiet. Nonetheless, you turn your back to him and glue your fingers to your lips while resting your chin over your thumb. You're in pure disbelief.
"It's okay." John rubs your back. "It's nothing, kid. I'm not mad at you. Fuck this car. Please calm the hell down."
You sigh, darting your eyes around. you'd apologize again but...
"Here." He places his jacket over your shoulders. "wear this-it will probably cover your jeans well enough. I'll meet you in the room."
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With your back to the door, you lay on your bed, replaying the moments as if your whole world just collapsed.
"Y/n. Stop it. It's nothing. You're a woman and women go through menstrual cycles and... accidents happen...and--"
"Dad, shut up." You turn to face him. "I can tell you're forcing the words out of your mouth." A dry chuckle leaves your lips and you return back to your initial position, still red-faced.
"Well if you can tell so many things, you can tell that i'm being serious and that i'm not mad or anything. Plus, i got you snacks."
You roll your eyes, turning again. "Like that's going to make things better?" Your eyes shift towards the bag he still held in his hand and raise your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. "And you think i'm gonna eat all that?"
Your dad shrugs. "You might not but at least it'll distract you enough. Relax, kid, okay?"
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@that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @marvelfanfn2187a113
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So sorry for the tardy post :c i get way too anxious sometimes and just become unable to write/edit. Sorry agaiiin ❤❤❤🥀🥀🥀
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