#sam winchester x older sister reader

[superlunar-eclipse]

🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ ACROSS THE COUNTRY

SUMMARY ➤ Dean and Sam, concerned about their missing father, approach their estranged elder sister Y/N, an FBI agent, for help. Despite initial resistance due to past grievances and her current job, Y/N eventually agrees to join them in their search, setting the stage for a journey filled with potential challenges and dangers.

WARNINGS ➤ injury’s, injured Y/N, stabbed wound (to the shoulder), small shard of glass on Y/N’s face and the back of their head, and slight arguing.

CHARACTERS ➤ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N Winchester, mentions of John Winchester, and Adam William (added character)

WORD COUNT ➤ 1,180 words

OTHER ➤ Y/N is a FBI agent, small mention of Y/N being 32 years old, set in season 1, episode 1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ➤ first fanfic! hopefully dean and sam don’t act too OOC, but lmk if they do!

"Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam took a deep breath before responding, "So, he's working one of his usual overtime shifts on a 'Miller Time'. It's nothing to worry about. He's bound to stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean glanced down at the cold, hard ground, allowing his eyes to linger there for a moment before looking back up at Sam. His voice was full of concern as he said, "Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days."

Sam’s expression remained stoic, giving away nothing of the worry that was slowly starting to creep in. Jess, who had been quietly observing the exchange, glanced up at him.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

"I mean, come on. You can't just break into my place in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said, his voice echoing in the silence of the night as he followed Dean down the stairs.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I'm not just asking you to hit the road with me. I need you to help me find him." He looked back at Sam, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"I- I don’t understand, why couldn’t you have called Y/N? Isn’t she an FBI agent or something like that?" Sam questioned, his hand reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to halt his progress.

Dean sighed loudly, a sound that echoed throughout the quiet night. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he had whenever he was troubled. "Well I… kinda don’t know where she is…" he admitted shamefully.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, a clear sign of his confusion. "What do you mean you ‘don’t know where she is’?"

Dean pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Well I don’t know her exact location but I know she’s somewhere in Washington DC or something like that!"

Sam scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. "That’s all the way across the country."

"Well did you want this to go quicker?" Dean shot back defensively.

Sam simply rolled his eyes at Dean.

"Look, are you coming with me or not?" Dean asked, his patience clearly running thin.

"I’m not." Sam said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Why not?" Dean questioned, his frustration clear.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t all bad."

Dean starts heading down the stairs once again, with Sam quickly on his trail.

"You know, in almost three years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean tried to reason, his voice softening.

Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.

"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find the both of them."

Y/N, a 32 year old FBI agent, sat in the back of the ambulance as the woman cleaned up her many cuts. Her shoulder had been stabbed by the unsub and her head was smashed into a sheet of glass.

"Alright, you're done." The woman finished cleaning her cuts, placing a bandage on her forehead and applying gauze tape to her wound.

Y/N smiled at the woman and hopped off the ambulance truck.

"Y/N!" someone shouted from the distance. She turned to see her great friend Adam, who was the first one to welcome her to the FBI.

She smiled softly as he gave her a comforting hug, "Ow, my shoulder." Her nose scrunched up in pain.

"Sorry," the corners of his mouth turned up as he let go of her.

Other agents of the FBI walked up to her, thanking her for her bravery. "Thank you for saving that girl's life."

"No problem." She gave them a comforting smile.

The agents walked away to discuss matters with other departments.

Y/N and Adam talked about the case for a little while, before Adam turned his attention to something behind her.

"Hey, do you know those people over there?" He asked.

She turned around to look at the people Adam was pointing at. She tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly as she tried to recognize them.

Why did they look so familiar?

Her face paled when she realized who they were.

"Uhm, yea- yeah I do, I’ll be right back," she stuttered, patting his shoulder reassuringly before she walked away.

"What are you guys doing here and how in the hell did you guys find me?" Y/N whispered-yelled at the two boys, her eyes wide with surprise.

"We need your help," Dean replied simply.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, "Oh, so all of a sudden you both need me after what, three years of not talking to me?"

Dean, with a dramatic flair that was all too typical of him, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Listen-" he began, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

But she cut him off, her frustration palpable. "Dean, please, I really don’t have time for this," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Sam, practically silent until now, took a step forward. His eyes critically scanned over her face and body, noting the signs of recent distress. "What happened to your shoulder?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

In response, she lifted a brow and shot him a sarcastic look. "Take a guess, Sam. I’m in the FBI," she said dryly.

He rolled his eyes at her retort. Typical Y/N, he thought, not for the first time.

Dean, who had been silent during their exchange, finally spoke. "Dad’s been missing for a few days, and we… we need you," he stated, his eyes narrowed and serious.

Her reaction was almost immediate. Her jaw tightened, her eyes darkened, her whole demeanor turned defensive. "And why would I want to find him?" she shot back, her voice icy.

He faltered, at a loss for words. He turned away, his gaze landing aimlessly on the nearby crime site.

Now it was Sam’s turn to speak up. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please, we really need you right now," he implored, giving her a puppy-dog look. It was a tactic he used to use all the time when he was younger to get what he wanted.

She looked away from him, her lips pursed, her face screwed up in thought. After a long pause, she finally voiced her question. "How- how long is this going to take?"

Dean was the one to answer. "Four days."

She sighed out loud, a wearied sound that echoed in the silence. "You do realize I have a real job, right?" she asked, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Dean rolled his eyes, a retort already forming on his lips. But before he could speak, Y/N interrupted him.

"Fine, I’ll go with you two," she said, her voice resigned.

Dean smiled lightly, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, Y/N."

And so, they walked together to Dean's car, unaware of the challenges and dangers that lay ahead of them.

[m3ntally-unstable]

Why is it that everytime I search for a certain thing I GET THE OPPOSITE. I SEARCHED FOR ANGST NOT SMUT, I WANT ANGST. I AKSED FOR SMUT NOT FUCKING FLUFF AND SHIT 😡😡😡😡 please update your system tumblr I beg of you

[jasmines-library]

Hi!! I LOVE UR WRITING SM!! im literally obsessed with ur batfam and supernatural fanfictions!!

So, could u PLS write an older winchester sibling one where they take care of their younger brothers when they were children and how much more difficult john made it fore them and then maybe throw in a scene when theyre all older (like during the show) where the brothers maybe express their appreciation for them??

Thanks in advance!! ❤️

Family First

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Warnings: sort of abuse mentioned, death mentioned.

Word Count: 1.3k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Protect your brothers at all costs. That was what your father always told you. As the eldest, it was your duty to look after them, to teach them and to protect them from the world whilst your father was away. Three years older than Dean and seven years older than Sam, you have a lot of responsibility to look after them. 

Most of your time was spent in some dead-beat motel, where the taps dripped constantly and the wallpaper was either shrouded with mould or peeling off. Sometimes both at the same time. With the loss of your mother and the often absence of your father, you played more of a parental role to your little brothers than anyone else. You were there for birthdays to see the gleam on their faces when they unwrapped the presents you had managed to steal or scrounge together with what little money you had. You were there on christmassed when John, too obsessed with work to care, wasn't. No matter how many times you had to lie to them about where he was, it never got easier. You never got used to seeing the disappointment on their small faces; their eyebrows knitting together and their eyes drooping with sadness. And it never got easier seeing them slowly begin to lose hope in their father. To see them slowly realise that he wasn’t coming home most nights. Slowly, as they grew, they began to see through your excuses for John, becoming wise to his actions. To his neglect. But the worst part was the worry. Worry for John, but also for your brothers. Even as they slept, sprawled out on the motel bed, you would stay on the couch, eyes wide awake as you nursed a mug of lukewarm coffee, eyes flicking between whatever shitty cartoon you had playing on mute, and your sleeping brothers just waiting for something. For one of them to wake up from a nightmare. For something to somehow slip through the doors and windows you had locked firmly shut, and double checked at least three times. The fear of something happening to your brothers gripped you tight like a vice, consuming you completely. A lot of it stemmed from the ‘maternal’ role you played for them. But a lot if it was fear driven into you by your father. 

He was hard on you. That was very clear. John had always been very clear with his discipline. Especially since your mom died. There was one time that something did happen to your brothers whilst on your watch. And the memory scarred you to this day. You had left the motel room for a minute. You had wanted to slip across the hall to the vending machine, and selfishly wanted some peace and quiet away from your brothers for once. But….when you returned your heart practically dropped through your feet. Sam, barely 10 years old, was lying on the bed, Dean not far away and in the two minutes that you had taken your gaze off of your brothers, the Shtriga that your father was out hunting had managed to slip through the window to feed on your youngest brother. Luckily, your father had returned in time to kill the striga and both Sam and Dean were completely fine. But you had hell to pay from your father. To say he scolded you would be putting it lightly. You never took your eyes off of your brothers after that. 

As you all grew older, and your father had deemed Dean old enough to look after Sammy, you began to hunt with your father. The training was rough, and often you came home battered and bruised. But that was just the life of a hunter. Hesitation would be punished. Hesitation could get you or someone killed; shoot first ask questions later. Always. Hunting with your dad gave you a rush. The two of you began to grow a little closer as you spent more time with him. Sure, he was hard on you. But you knew he just wanted you to be safe….. You began to enjoy hunting once you pushed past the initial fear and the butterflies that stirred in your stomach until they made you feel sick. It gave you something to do. It gave you a purpose. It made you feel like you were helping. Saving people. Though the nervousness still lingered when you were away from your brothers. The longer you were away the more the thoughts of something bad happening to them consumed your mind even though you knew they were old enough to handle themselves. You hated to admit it…but it sort of hurt that they didn’t need you anymore. 

Overtime, things changed. Dean began to hunt too. Sam drifted apart. Until that fateful night that he left. You still remember the argument. The slamming of doors as he left for Stanford with no plan of when or if he would even return. Dean needed you for the first time in a long time that night. John had stormed off, heading to the local bar to drown his problems with drink. You were sure that if you hadn’t been there, then dean would have been following shortly behind like a dog in tow. A lost puppy following its owner. The two of you sat in silence that night, clinging on to every shred of the comfort you could give each other. To every shattered fragment of your broken family. 

Things fell apart further when your Dad went missing. With Sam gone, Dean and you would often go on hunts together. Sometimes with your father. Often not. And sure, sometimes you would go a little while without seeing each other if the jobs didn’t line up, but this time it had been too long. So you hauled yourself into Baby, who John had gifted to you, and took the long drive to visit Sammy at Stanford. You couldn’t believe how much he had grown since you last saw him. He was taller. That was the first thing you noticed. He even dwarfed Dean who already towered over you himself. And he had changed his hair too. It framed his face more. He was so grown up so different, but even with the time apart the love between you still remained. It was that reason that Sam decided to join you. Broken and grieving his girlfriend, once again Sammy needed you. And you were ready to be there for him. It felt like being a child again; having your brothers relying on you once more. But even with years away from them, the feeling still came naturally. 

The three of you became thick as thieves again after that. Sam stayed. Sam died. Sam came back. Dean died. Dean came back. Over and over again the three of you would be separated. And each time you found your way back to each other. Every time you were there. 

It was a hot day in California when it happened. Dean had been driving Baby, the windows rolled down as your and Sam's voices melded with the music blasting from the stereo. It was one of those days in between hunts where life was just so worth living. Where the Winchesters could just be. You had stopped at a small cafe in the mountains. It was a pretty thing; small and on the roadside by a lake in the mountains. It had a small picnic space that you and Sam resided in as Dean brought over your order. He had insisted in going in himself, even though you had offered countless times to go in for him. 

The glass clinked against the class as he placed the tray down on the table.

“Thank you, Deano.” you smiled softly, taking your order from the tray and savouring the ice cold of your drink as you took a sip. 

Dean sat beside you. “It’s no problem. You’re always doing things for us, you know? Let us do something for you. Even if it is just driving and buying you lunch.”

“Seriously,” Sam added, “You’re always helping us out. Patching us up. Keeping us safe. You’re always there.”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“We know.” Sam hummed. “But I guess we’ve never really said thank you.”

“You don’t have to, Sammy. It’s just my job. Someone’s gotta keep you two in line.”

They both chuckle lightly. “Seriously though. Thank you.”

Your heart warmed, a soft, loved smile creeping onto your lips. “Anytime, you call and I’m there. Always.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury @lara20aral

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[ellieslittleburrow]

What's that you're wearing?

Summary : Sam and Dean aren't too happy with your short little skirt.

Warnings : Just the face-shrinking idea of an older person telling you to wear something longer.

----

Sporting an outfit you've been working on for hours, you walked into the main space of the bunker, collecting your belongings you left earlier on the table before a scoff stops you in your tracks. You look up to find your two brothers, Dean eyeing you up and down and Sam averting his gaze in a remorseful manner.

"What are you wearing?" Dean asks bluntly and you look down at your off shoulder white top and pirate-esque skirt-uh-short short skirt and shoes. "Where do you think you're going with that?"

"What do you mean what am i wearing?" Fake confusion contorts your features before you continue. "I told Sam already about the pirate inspired party i'm going to-"

"Is the ass showing part of the party requirements? Because that's all there is to see, y/n." Dean bitterly sips his beer, ignoring your gaping mouth. He did not just say that to you-

"Um...Dean, that was the cringiest thing anybody's ever said to me in my life." You hold your hand out in front of you, gesturing a "stop" before you roll your eyes over to Sam, who drops his gaze down again.

"Im sorry, honey..." Sam starts, his voice much softer and apologetic than Dean's. "but he's right..." Sam gestures at your skirt. "It's too short, honey. You.'ll be going alone i don't think it-it's the b-"

"He means to say go get changed, kid." Dean sternly adds, leaving no room for argument.

You ignore him, still focusing on Sam.

"But Sammyy-come on, it's nothing-I'm going out partying not to a convent-Plus it took me an hour to put it all together."

As if that last bit of info is going to save your ass.

"Well, the good news is-you're wearing so little it'll only take you a few seconds to remove."

See? You'd chuckle at Dean's remark if it weren't meant only meant to shame you at the moment. So you just huff and head back to your room when Dean nods towards the hall, gesturing for you to go, one last time.

A longer skirt is waiting on your bed, anyway, mocking your efforts. Well, maybe next time.

------

Hello peeps, I hope you guys liked this one! I just wrote it in like-an hour. I'm having such writers anxiety i hope i get the motivation back soon. Peace ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

[prentissluvr]

the question is do i post the fanfic i wrote lolololol

[ninii-winchester]

What’s a girl gotta do

Pairing: S1! Sam Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.7k

Warnings : heavily based on s1 ep3 (Dead in the water), mentions of drowning, fluff, no Jess au.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Y/n was driving to Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. An eighteen year old girl went swimming into the lake but never came back, no body found. She figured it might be her thing. She was driving to her destination but she saw a very familiar car parked outside a diner. It was the infamous black Chevy Impala. She should've know he'd be here. She parked her car right beside it and got out of the. She watched Dean walk out of the diner with the car keys in his hands.

"As soon as I saw this beauty I knew an ugly Winchester would be around as well." She commented leaning against baby.

"Y/n/n." Dean exclaimed opening his arms for her to jump in. Y/n hugged her best friend. "What are you doing here?" He asked pulling apart.

"Same as you. You're going to Lake Monitoc too?" She replied. "Sophie Carlton I'm guessing?" he nodded.

The diner door opened again and Sam walked out. The tall boy watched Dean talking a woman, her face was hidden by Dean's broad shoulders. Sam rolled his eyes as he approached his brother but froze when he saw who he actually was talking to.

"Sammy?" Y/n questioned as he appeared behind Dean. She pulled him in for a hug and he blushed slightly. "I thought you were at Stanford?" She exclaimed.

"Yeah i was but we're looking for dad, now." He replied with a tight smile. "And it's Sam." He added remembering she called him, 'Sammy.'

"Is it now, Sammy?" She teased making Dean laugh out loud and he blushed furiously.

Y/n had been Dean's best friend since they were thirteen. They met each other when Dean was hunting with John and Y/n was with her father but she got separated from him. The Winchesters found her, helped her reunite with her father. Dean and Y/n clicked immediately, finding friends your age as a hunter was a difficult task, so the two of them jumped at the opportunity to become friends.

They visited each other frequently, Y/n played with nine year old Sam and was always friendly with him. As they grew up, Sam quickly developed a crush on the older girl. He was blush immensely when she would ruffle his hair or tell him he looked cute. It wasn't often a pretty nineteen year old girl noticed fifteen year old boy, even if she didn't mean it romantically, Sam basked in her attention.

Every time he watched his older brother drag her away for a hunt or even to show her something cool, he felt disappointed, he thought that someday his older brother will sweep her off her feet and she'd be much more interested in him rather than a little boy like Sam.

For years Sam thought he never stood a chance with his older brother in the picture, he thought his brother might feel something for her and he didn't want to break his brother's heart. But his doubts were cleared when Dean once kissed Y/n to get rid of his latest hook up, but he pulled away yelling,

"Never let me do that again. Ew you're like my sister."

Sam thought Y/n might feel something for Dean, thinking he's older and probably a better choice. But after watching her beat his brother into a pulp for the stunt he pulled, Sam felt relieved that it was all platonic. Even then he didn't think he'd ever get the chance to be with her. He thought he'd always be four years behind.

Then, Sam left for Stanford, cutting off ties with his father and brother. He never thought he'd get to see her again. Seeing her again made him feel giddy, the butterflies in his stomach were doing summersaults.

"Alright folks, you can catch up later we have a case to work." Dean said walking towards the drivers side.

"Let me drive." Y/n said to her best friend before he could deny she shot her best puppy dog eyes.

"Good try but no." Dean said getting in the car.

"Fine. SHOTGUN!!!" She stuck her tongue out at Sam before opening the passenger's side door and getting. Sam shook his head with a smile gracing his lips. He wouldn't have fought with her to sit in the front seat, hell he would've fought Dean to let her drive if she'd asked him to. She's got him wrapped around her finger and doesn't even know it.

Sam got into the confined backseat, struggling a bit to fit his long legs in the small space. Y/n placed her get over the dashboard as Dean drove to their destination.

"Hey feet off the dash." Dean remarked tapped her calf, shooting her a glare, one she was immune to. "Y/n/n I will cut your hair in your sleep." He threatened knowing how much loved and cared for her hair. Sam thought she had really pretty hair. And it smelled so good all the time.

Y/n rolled her eyes before pulling her feet off the dashboard, letting out a huge sigh.

"Oh man, what's a girl gotta do to be loved around here." She spoke dramatically. She grinned at Sam in view mirror, "what do you think, Sammy?" She asked him and his face turned red.

She enjoyed watching him get all flustered and squirmy when she teased him. She thought Sam was cute, not in a chubby little boy kind way, but cute in a charming way. She like his smile, and that messy mop of hair on his head. She wondered how it would feel to run her hands through them.

"How about shutting up, sweetheart?" Dean quipped watching the interaction between his best friend and his little brother.

Dean knows his brother is whipped for Y/n and she has talked his ear off, gushing over his brother. He's all for them being together, in fact he's rooting for them. But if he has to sit through their miserable attempts at flirting or giving each other sickeningly irritating heart eyes when the other isn't looking. He will throw up.

The trio soon arrived at the victim's house. They talked to the vics brother finding out that his sister was a varsity swimmer and it was impossible for her to drown. They asked Will a few more questions before heading to the police station.

After talking to the Sherrif they found out that they didn't find anything in the water, which could've done that, dam is falling apart so the lake won't be here any longer, since they're not getting any money to fix it.

After Will Carlton was found dead, the trio did alot more digging around for a while and found out, that Sherrif and Bill Carlton had a friend named Peter Sweeney who disappeared years back. It become clear that Jake and Bill had a hand in his disappearance. They found Peter's bike buried in Jake's backyard.

It took a while before Jake confessed, that he and Bill accidentally pushed Peter in the lake and they let him drown, so there's no body to salt and burn to put the vengeful spirit to rest.

It all happened too fast when Lucas was being pulled into to the lake, it was Peter. He wanted  Jake to suffer, watch all his loved ones die, just like he did to Bill. Just like, how Peter's mother felt when he disappeared.

They heard Andrea call out for her son, it only took Y/n and Dean a second to jump in the water to save him. The two kept looking for Lucas but he was nowhere to be found. Sam held Andrea back from jumping into the water.

Jake walked into the lake willingly, hoping Peter would take him instead of his grandson and in hopes that after getting his revenge he'd leave his family alone. Y/n felt something pulling her under the water and she felt herself drowning. She could make out a shadow, which looked like a pale little boy. But then suddenly, it let her go.

Dean came above surface with Lucas in his arms. Sam helped the two up and Andrea hugged her son close to her chest. The brothers looked at lake, Y/n should've come up by now. Peter took Jake, it should've been over. But Y/n fell unconscious under the water, intaking too much water in her body and unable to swim back up. Sam immediately jumped in the water to search for her.

"SAM." Dean yelled as he watched his brother jump into the water.

A few minutes later Sam surfaced ashore with Y/n in his arms. He laid her on the wooden dock and knelt beside her, his heart pounding. She was unconscious and not breathing. He quickly tilted her head back, pinched her nose, and covered her mouth with his, giving two rescue breaths. Then, he placed his hands on the center of her chest and began chest compressions. A few seconds later Y/n shot up with a loud gasp, coughing out water as she sat up.

"Oh god." She wheezed holding her head. "Is Lucas okay?" She asked looking at the little boy. His mother nodded in acknowledgement.

"You okay, Y/n/n?" Dean asked kneeling beside her.

Before she could reply Sam grabbed her by her neck and pulled her in for a harsh kiss. He kissed her like his life depended on it. His lips moved against her with fervour, his heart was hammering against his ribcage. She kissed him with equal force, her hands grasping at his damp hair. He rested his forehead on hers as he pulled away.

"Don't you dare scare me like that, ever again." He breathed heavily, his chest puffing with each breath.

"Drown!!" She chirped with a grin on her face. Sam looked at her, confusing lacing his handsome face. "A girl's gotta drown to be loved around here." She added with a giggle. Dean barked out a laugh at her stupid comment.

"I hate you so much." Sam rolled his eyes but had a huge smile on his face. Sam gently brushed a strand of hair from Y/n's face, and she smiled up at him, eyes sparkling with happiness. They leaned in for another soft, lingering kiss, sealing their new beginning.

[deanstead]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Requested: Yes, by anon

Summary: Sam gets an unexpected call from Y/N, which brings another surprise for Dean

Word Count: 2.7K

Tags/Warnings: Dad!Dean, canon-typical mentions of blood/violence

A/N: In my "everything i write sucks" era but thanks to @seatsbythepit for her consistent beta services! I think this was in my inbox for a (long) while so I finally got this out!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST

Sam frowned, glancing at his phone where it was lighting up with an incoming call from a number he didn’t know.

Not many people had this number, so he picked up warily, as Dean looked up.

“Hello?”

There was a short silence on the other end of the line before a familiar voice reached his ears.

“Sam?” 

Sam froze.

“Y/N?”

Dean sat up straighter, his eyes flicking toward his brother but Sam wasn’t paying attention.

It had been more than 2 years since you’d left and not a day had gone by that Dean didn’t blame himself for it. Sometimes, when he lay in bed at night, the last fight still haunted him - the look in your eyes when those hurtful words had cut across the room, the defeated sound in your voice as you looked him in the eyes and told him that if that’s what he thought of you, there was no point to all this.

After you left, he’d spent too many days staring at your name in his lists of contacts, his thumb hovering over the call button. The days ticked by, and soon it was way too late for Dean to call or reach out so he was left with replaying the last conversation you’d ever had like he needed to torture himself to make up for the hurt.

“Where are you?” Sam’s voice pulled Dean out of his thoughts and he frowned. That was never a good sign.

Sam spoke in a low voice before he nodded and hung up.

Dean stared at his younger brother as Sam stood, pausing as his eyes flicked toward Dean who was watching intently.

“Dean, she…”

Dean nodded, his eyes flicking back downward. “Yeah, I don’t blame her.”

“Look, why don’t you help from here, alright? I’ll make sure she’s alright.” Sam said, although he knew it must be killing Dean. 

“Yeah, just let me know what you need,” Dean responded, failing to hide the slight dejection in his voice as Sam left.

“Sammy.”

His name flowed off your lips the moment you opened the door, feeling familiar yet foreign at the same time. Yet, it was really good to see him.

Sam just smiled, enveloping you in a tight hug the way only an older brother would. “It’s good to see you.”

You nodded, smiling.

“You flying solo?” Sam asked, frowning.

You shook your head. “I’m not hunting. Not really. We were just passing through and I wanted to just run, but I… I couldn’t. Now, my friend’s sister is missing and I just…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Wait. We?”

You gave him a guilty smile. “That’s why I called.” You paused before continuing. “And why I asked you to come alone. I didn’t think I should surprise Dean out here.”

Sam gave you a confused look and you exhaled slowly.

Without saying anything more, you led Sam into the room, as his eyes fell upon a two-year-old kid. A kid who was unmistakably Dean’s son as he gripped a miniature Impala car in his hand where he was sitting on the ground.

Sam looked at you in surprise.

You nodded. “This is Leo.”

It was probably a Winchester thing but Leo took to Sam almost immediately despite the fact he never let anyone else but you carry him for the past two years. 

You remembered how he’d wail in the doctor's or nurse’s arms but he seemed perfectly content sitting in Uncle Sammy’s arms now, playing with Sam’s hair.

“I was gonna get a friend to watch him, but if he likes you so much…”

Sam looked at you like you were crazy. “You’re not going alone.”

You exhaled slowly and nodded, like you’d already expected this answer from him.

Instead, Sam asked to review the information you had. It felt almost like the good old days, as you watched Sam pore over the notes you had at the small desk at the motel, the only thing different being that Dean wasn’t here and you had a two-year-old who’d fallen asleep in your arms.

You knew Sam was planning to call Dean when he left to get dinner but you pretended like you didn’t, busying yourself with preparing Leo’s meal.

When Sam returned with food for the both of you, you glanced at him and he nodded. “Yeah, I called Dean. Look, you know the research there is helpful. It won’t hurt.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

Sam glanced up at you. “What’s the plan, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell him? Or me?”

You glanced over your shoulder at where Leo was sleeping soundly and sighed softly. “I don’t know. I guess… I guess Dean and I never really had the talk. I didn’t know where he stood with regards to having kids, especially in this life.”

You paused, looking up at Sam momentarily before continuing. “Besides, we’d broken up. I thought he’d try to come and get me but… well, he didn’t. By the time I found out I was pregnant, too much time had passed and I didn’t know how to tell him.”

Sam nodded quietly, letting you continue.

“But I got out. I didn’t let Leo into this part of our life. Until today. And I hate it that he’s here when there’s a nest of fucking vamps right here. I didn’t…”

Sam reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “You were right to call. No matter what, it never hurts to have someone looking out for you.”

You smiled. “Well, I’m glad it’s you…”

“And Dean. Sorta.” You added after a small silence.

The conversation was cut short by Sam’s phone and he quickly answered it. “Anything good?”

You could hear the crackle of Dean’s voice and you felt your heart give a jolt. A jolt that didn’t exactly surprise you. Of course, how could you ever get over Dean Winchester?

You could vaguely hear Dean giving Sam some additional information before Sam hung up, glancing at you.

“You sure about this, Y/N?”

You glanced at Leo before nodding. You planted a firm kiss on Leo’s head, nodding to your friend, Samantha.

“Don’t worry. Sam’s great at what he does. We’ll figure this out.” 

She nodded back at you, assuring you that Leo was in safe hands.

It was your first hunt in a long while, but being a hunter seemed to already be a part of your DNA. 

Armed with the information that Dean had dug up, you and Sam managed to infiltrate the nest, easily lopping heads of vampires off as they were caught off-guard. You were glad Sam was there to have your back, especially when you both made your way to the dead center of the nest. 

“Sharon?” You kept your voice low. 

You headed to where she was huddled in the corner. You didn’t know Sharon well but you’d met once or twice when you’d come up here to meet Samantha.

“Y/N?” 

Her voice shook slightly. 

You nodded. “Yeah. I promised Samantha I’d bring you home.”

Sharon looked around, her eyes flicking to a dead body lying to the side. “They’re…”

You shook your head at Sharon. “Sharon, look at me. We’re going to get you home alright? Trust me.”

“Come on, Y/N.” Sam urged gently. 

Of course, you knew hunts never went that smoothly. 

A growl alerted you that a vamp had joined you and your body stiffened, the grip on the machete in your hand tightening. 

“Sam, get her out of here.”

“Y/N.” Sam’s voice was stressed and you recognized it, the struggle between leaving you here and taking Sharon to safety. 

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him, glancing back at the new arrival.

Sam didn’t answer but you knew the exact moment when he took Sharon and left, their footsteps seeming to echo as they got further away. 

“You hunters are the real monsters.” The vampire droned, staring at you. “Here we are, just trying to survive and you break into our home and kill my entire family.”

You tried to stifle the sarcastic laughter that was at the tip of your tongue.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

You knew it was coming before the vampire twitched, and you swung your machete upward as he rushed toward you. 

The vampire sidestepped, missing the machete by inches as it growled, even more determined to get you.

You stepped back again as it lunged at you, your heart sinking as you felt yourself lose your footing. 

Fuck. 

You rolled out of the way but the vampire was too quick, pouncing upon you. 

You raised your machete but it was too close, the machete inching closer toward you as the vampire bared its fangs at you. 

You held onto a single thought. You had to get home to Leo. 

Then, as if by sheer willpower, the unmistakable sound of a blade swishing through the air before the vampire’s head rolled off its shoulders. 

“Dean?”

Dean had lasted all of five minutes after the last call with Sam before he’d muttered a “screw this” to himself and torn his way out of the bunker and down to where Sam and you were.

You were still stunned as Dean rolled what was left of the vampire off you and helped you up.

“You alright? Are you hurt?” Dean’s eyes studied you, unable to differentiate if the blood on you was the result of any injuries you might have sustained before he’d arrived.

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

The atmosphere sank into awkwardness as the both of you stood there now in silence.

“Sorry, Y/N. I know you wanted me to sit this one out, but I…”

You shook your head and interrupted him. “No, I… Thanks, Dean.”

You fell back into silence, both of you walking out toward the exit to Sam.

“God, Y/N!” Sharon’s stressed voice made her way to you first but you didn’t miss the surprised look Sam gave his brother even as you were assuring Sharon you weren’t hurt.

You looked up to see Dean quietly heading to the Impala, and before you could think through your next move, you were running toward him.

“Dean.”

Dean paused and turned to look at you.

You took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

There was a look in Dean’s eyes that sat somewhere between confusion and intrigue.

You looked down at your blood-stained clothes and smiled. “Give me a few hours and I’ll come meet you at the bunker?” 

The words rolled off your tongue feeling foreign yet welcoming at the same time.

“The bunker?” Dean asked.

You shrugged. “Or wherever you guys want. If you don’t want me there.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s not what I…” He paused before continuing. “See you there.”

You watched the Impala drive off before you turned back to look at Sam, who had a small smile on his face, and you knew he’d heard everything.

You’d delivered Sharon safely back to Samantha, who hadn’t asked any questions, just glad to see her sister again. and you even managed to shower and change before Leo even noticed you and Sam were gone.

Now, Sam pulled up outside the bunker and you took a deep breath. 

“Ready?” Sam asked softly.

You gave a short laugh. “Never.”

You felt everything at the same time as you took Leo in your arms and walked into the bunker, the memories seeming to hit you all at once - the way this place made you feel, the laughter in your head that belonged to a memory of the three of you as you sat in Dean's embrace.

Even if this was the same place where things had ended, it was the happy memories that followed you as you walked down the stairs now.

Dean stepped out of the kitchen, freezing in his footsteps.

His eyes took in the sight before him, a kid that looked like a carbon copy of himself except for the eyes that were undoubtedly yours.

“Y/N…”

You cleared your throat and exhaled. 

“Hey Leo, let’s go find you some snacks,” Sam said, reaching his hands out for Leo.

Leo cracked a smile and allowed Sam to pick him out of your arms. “Pie!”

Sam glanced over at Dean, unable to hide a chuckle. “I’m sure we have that.”

The silence that followed was almost loud as Dean looked at you in disbelief and you cleared your throat. “Let’s talk.”

Dean led the way into the library, unsure if he should be pissed or happy to see you.

You leaned against one of the tables, as Dean looked back at you.

“Sorry.” You said quietly, looking down. You knew Dean had every right to be angry and you braced yourself for the rise in his voice but nothing came.

You glanced up at him again, meeting the green eyes you’d sorely missed.

Met with Dean’s silence you spoke again. “I didn’t know how to tell you. By the time I found out about it, too much time had passed since the last time we spoke. I stared at your number but I was afraid. I…” You took another breath. “We never talked about this. I didn’t know if you’d be happy or not and I chickened out.”

“So were you never going to tell me?” Dean finally asked.

You couldn’t really determine the tone of his voice but you shook your head.

“I… I kinda was on the way here.” You said quietly.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. 

“I didn’t really have a plan.” You said. “Part of me thought if I just drove here, I wouldn’t be able to back out anymore. Then, that nest of vamps kidnapped my friend’s sister so I…”

“So you called Sam.” It was a statement.

You gave him a tentative smile. “Didn’t think you’d appreciate seeing Leo without an explanation in the middle of a hunt.”

Dean exhaled slowly.

“So what now?” Dean asked.

You didn’t dare look up at him, afraid your eyes would give you away. The eyes that screamed how you were still in love with him and that you’d missed him every single day that you’d been apart. The way your heart crumbled every time Leo smiled because it reminded you of Dean, and how all you wanted was to be enveloped in those arms again.

Even as those thoughts ran through your mind, you felt the prick of tears because this was exactly why you’d put off telling Dean about Leo.

“I don’t know, D.” You answered quietly. 

Your voice cracked slightly and you hoped Dean hadn’t picked up on it.

“Y/N.” He called, forcing you to look up at him, even though the tears blurred your vision.

Dean closed the gap between the both of you, one hand cupping your face as he pressed his lips against yours, his other arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“God, I missed you,” Dean whispered, as he pulled away just a little, your faces still pressed together.

You buried your face into his shoulder without saying anything, feeling your tears get absorbed into the shirt he had on.

You needn’t have worried about Leo. You looked at you son clutching the tiny toy Impala while he sat in his father's arms almost triumphantly as they came back in. Dean had brought Leo to see the real thing, and Leo had a ball of a time just sitting in the Impala.

“Mama, can we stay?” Leo asked with anticipation in his voice.

You froze. Dean and you hadn’t talked about anything. He’d kissed you, you’d hugged and then you’d gotten him out of that library to meet his son.

Dean closed the gap between the two of you, putting Leo into a giant hug between the both of you before he reached out for your hand.

“Stay,” Dean said quietly.

You glanced up at him. 

“I’m not going to lose you again.” Dean added, squeezing your hand gently. “Not for anything in the world.”

The words felt stuck in your throat, but you glanced at Leo and smiled. “Yeah, we’re staying with Daddy and Uncle Sammy.”

Dean leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips amidst Leo's triumphant yells.

Sam moved forward to press you into a hug. “Welcome home, Y/N.”

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[alessandra-14]

Quiet sister, concerned brothers

Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Summery: Dean and Sam Winchester have a 15 year old half sister who often feels neglected and overlooked by her brothers. Her sadness and loneliness build up until she can no longer hide her feelings.

Trigger warning: way to much use of Y/N, emotional neglect

Word count: 1.5k words

A/N: I used a different perspective this time. Please please let me know which one you prefer so I know what to continue with! Thanks.

The creaky old bunker was silent, a rare occurrence given the nature of it's inhabitants. Y/N sat on her bed, the flickering light from a nearby lamp casting long shadows on the walls. She hugged her knees tight to her chest, feeling the weight of another day spend in the background.

Sam and Dean, her older brothers, had been on a hunt all day. She texted them but unsurprisingly received no answer from any of them. They returned the next day around noon with stories about demons and near-death experiences, hardly acknowledging her presence as they recounted their tiring adventures.

Y/N was used to this. As long as she can remember, she had been the quiet, shy girl who stayed in the shadows while her brothers were always the center of attention.

She loved them dearly, of course she did. They have raised her, they gave her a family. Something she never new before them. But the constant feeling of being forgotten gnawed at her heart. She knew they didn't mean to emotionally neglect her, it was just how things were. Sam and Dean are hunters and she is just…. there

….

A week later they were on the road again, driving to a small town in Nebraska where strange disappearances had been reported. Y/N joined them this time. She felt as if she is going to suffocate if she stayed in that bunker for any longer.

She sat in the back of the Impala with her head resting against the cold window. The low rumble of the engine was almost comforting, a familiar sound in her otherwise tumultuous life.

Dean glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, a frown creasing his forehead. "You okay back there kid?"

Y/N forced a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Sam turned around in his seat, giving her a concerned look. "You sure? You've been pretty quiet lately. More than usual. You barely talk to us." "Yeah I'm fine, just tired", she lied, hoping they would drop the subject. She didn't want to burden them with her feelings. They had enough to worry about.

Dean just shrugged and turned up the music, and Sam went back to his research. Both of them just believing her lie for now. None of them had the energy to deal with it at the moment.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to push away the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.

The hunt went relatively well. Sure it could have gone way better but it's not the worst one they've had so far. Turns out the disappearances were caused by a little groupe of vampires. Fortunately for them it was easy to track them down to an abandoned warehouse. The killing part was a bit more tricky though.

Y/N helped out a lot this time. She was quite proud of herself for that. Thought that Sam and Dean would be impressed but did they even acknowledge her hard work? absolutely not.

"You did good kid but you could definitely improve your skills with the machete and you also need to work more on your stamina you are way to slow." Those are the first words she hear from Dean as they walk back to the car. Of course it hurts. She tried so hard to make them acknowledge her skills but apparently all they see is her weakness or simply nothing at all.

Sam doesn't confirm Dean's criticism but he also doesn't defend his sister in any way. The walk back to the car is just silent and tense. A feeling Y/N is simply sick of.

It doesn't get any better in the car so all she does is put her headphones in to listen to music to drown her loud bad thoughts and her brother's voices.

....

The next time they went on a hunt didn't go differently. Y/N was allowed to join again. She even tried to show of her great skills against the witch they had to fight but once again it went mostly unnoticed by the two brothers. The only thing that stuck with them was how slow she moved and how much she apparently hesitated when shooting the witch.

She kept quiet for the whole ride back to the bunker. What was she supposed to say anyway.

Back at the bunker Dean is the first one to break the silence between the siblings. "Hey kiddo remind me to teach you how to use a gun properly. You suck a little at that" He said as he went to grab a beer. His words were meant in a playful way but for Y/N it's enough to set her off completely.

"Can't you just stop with that?!" Sam and Dean both turn to look at her with a confused frown. "Stop with what?" Dean asks bewildered.

"With t-this! I just can't listen to you constantly telling me that I am not good enough. Every time I do something good you find something bad to say. Both of you just completely ignored the fact that I killed the witch on the hunt today all that was important to you was to tell me I suck at shooting! And when you don't criticize everything I do, you just don't talk to me. I simply get ignored. That's not fair!"

Y/N stopped once she ran out of breath but she was not anywhere near done letting everything out

"Y/N what-" Sam immediately gets interrupted by his sister. "No! I'm done. I'm done with hunting. I am done doing anything in my power to make you acknowledge my hard work for nothing and I am done with seeking your validation and attention at all times!"

None of the brothers get a chance to say anything because the second the girl is done she storms off to her room. Not that they knew what to say anyway.

The silence that follows is a tense one. Both brothers are at loss for words. Her speech was something none of them expected to hear. "Should we go check up on her? That was pretty intense"

But Sam shakes his head at Dean's suggestion. "No, we should let her cool off for a bit. I'll check up on her later"

....

Dean can't help but think about every interaction he had with his sister after every hunt and he unfortunately has to admit to himself that what Y/N said was true. The guilt is more than visible on his face it seems as if he is drowning in it. Sam isn't feeling any better. He is trying his best to no stand up and rush into his sisters bedroom and apologize for everything he and his brother said to her to make her feel as if she was not good enough.

He is holding that urge back fairly well but the moment he heard loud crying from her room he decides he is done with waiting and giving her space. He just needs to see if she is alright and fix this.

He walks up towards the door of your bedroom and softly knocks on it. "Hey...do you mind if we talk for a moment? I just want to make sure you're okay" Sam waits for a couple seconds which feels like minutes to him. But he receives no answer from the girl on the other side of the door. So he tries again but yet he gets no answer this time either.

Sam knows her silence is answer enough and turns around to leave. Not even two steps later he hears the door opening and his little sister's sad sniffles. He turns towards her and the mere sight of his sibling standing there with red rimmed eyes and a tired expression, was enough to break his heart into many pieces. Especially because he knows he is at fault.

"We can talk if you want" Her voice sounds raspy and her words come out quiet. A big indicator that she has been crying for a long time.

Sam simply nods and follows her into her room. Both sit down on the bed. Y/N looks towards her hands and keeps her gaze fixated on that.

"I wanted to apologize for making you feel as if you are not good enough. That was really not alright. You are great kid. You help us out so much. Doesn't matter if it's with research, or hunting or just helping around the bunker. Dean and I appreciate it. We appreciate you"

Y/N scoffs which slightly takes her older brother by surprise. "Well none of you know how to show that said appreciation"

Sam sighs since he knows she is right. "I know we don't but I really mean it when I say that we do care and do acknowledge your help and hard work. Even when we tell you about the thing you could improve. I also know how harsh Dean's words must have sounded to you and he feels bad. He really does."

The teenaged girl stays silent for a moment before finally nodding. "I forgive you. But I still want to take a little break from hunting. I'll help with research, sure but that's all. It's just too much right now" Sam agrees with you. "Sure that's fine. I understand, kid. And so will Dean"

Y/N looks up from her fidgeting fingers and turns her head towards her brother while wiping her tears. "Thank you Sam"

"Don't thank me, sweetheart. Please" Another silence follows after Sam's words. Yet this time it's not tense or heavy. It's comforting.

[little-diable]

My Greatest Fear - Dean Winchester (smut)

Don't say I didn't warn y'all. Inspired by Benson Boone's new song "My Greatest Fear". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean broke things off with the reader years ago, the biggest mistake of his life. But when Sam tells his brother that (y/n) is getting married, Dean knows it's time to make things right. He won't leave this life behind without being able to call her his once again.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho, reader is a runaway bride

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

Got a lot on my mind that keeps me up at night, I’m tossing and turning, thinking that my life’s gone to waste

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Dean shot the waitress a big smile as she placed his breakfast down, blushing as the handsome man winked at her. The older Winchester brother was too focused on his food to pick up on the uneasiness radiating off Sam, to focus on the sadness swimming in his brother’s pupils. 

“Fuck, that’s good.” Dean’s moans rumbled through him as he ate the greasy deliciousness, sipping on his coffee every now and then. It took him a while to lift his gaze, to allow his green eyes to focus on Sam’s untouched breakfast, forcing Dean’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “Not hungry? Shouldn’t you eat something after a long run?” 

“Mhm,” Sam’s eyes were focused on the window, unable to look at his brother any longer. His heart clenched in his chest, his mind was racing faster than it had in the past months, struggling to part his lips. 

“Sam,” Dean’s raspy voice forced Sam’s eyes back towards his older brother, unable to hold eye contact for long. “What’s wrong?” 

Dean had put down his breakfast burger while taking another sip of coffee. He patiently waited for Sam to speak, to spill whatever was visibly plaguing him. But Sam kept quiet, deeply inhaling as if he had to muster the strength to speak. Dean repeated his brother’s name, much quieter this time around, gentle almost – as if he had finally realised that whatever Sam was about to speak would hurt them both. 

“I received an email this morning.” It was a whisper, nothing more, words so obscurely simple that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. But Sam didn’t give in, killing Dean’s hope that Sam was simply fucking with him. Something heavy was about to claw through Sam, something heavy that could determine the outcome of this very day. “It was from Mary, (y/n)’s sister.”

Now it was on Dean to freeze, not expecting his brother to speak her name. Their eyes met, urging Sam to keep on speaking, to tell his brother about the email he had opened with shaky fingers, freezing in his step as he read the words she had written to him. 

“(Y/n)’s getting married, Dean.” Sam was forced to watch Dean sink back into the seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, uneasy eyes staring down at the table. And for a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the words sink in – words that had been Dean’s greatest fear ever since he had left her all these years ago. 

He had been stupid back then, too childish for his own good. Guided by his father’s words, he had dropped (y/n) and the life they could have lived together. His father had made pretty promises, telling his young son of women awaiting him, women he shouldn’t miss out on because of a marriage that would only tie him to (y/n), away from all the fun he could experience. The greatest mistake of his life, a mistake he hated himself for every single day. 

“That’s good for her. I’m happy she found somebody who treats her right.” The words pained Dean to speak, rolling off his tongue with a sharp edge that left Sam cringing. His hand found Dean’s forearm, gently squeezing his brother’s arm in a gesture so unfamiliar, Dean had to stop himself from shaking off Sam’s hand. 

“Dean, I’ve always loved her like a sister, I only want what’s best for her. But you’re my brother, I know how much not having her around scars you, I see it every day on your face. Get her back, try it at least.” 

Of all the things that I've been afraid to lose, my greatest fear of all is losing you

……

“I shouldn’t do this.” They were parked in front of the small church, eyes watching the big crowd of unfamiliar faces. Both Dean and Sam were wearing a suit, knowing that they had to blend in with the wedding guests to find their way to (y/n). “Why should she take me back? Why should she even listen to me?”

“Dean, if there is one thing I know it’s that she still loves you. Let’s get your girl back.” Sam was first to step out into the warm morning, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as they walked up to the crowd. He felt Dean close, not daring to speak up with his choked-up throat, with his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that this would be his only shot to make things right for once in his life. 

“Mary!” Sam’s voice echoed through the air, eyes focused on the frame of (y/n)’s sister. The young woman flung herself into Sam’s open arms, chuckling into his neck as he held her close for a moment. A moment too long for Dean who was growing more antsy with every passing second. 

“Thank you for coming. She’s making a mistake, Sam. You’re my only hope with this.” The words left Dean frozen, confused eyes flickering between his brother and Mary. He hadn’t read the email Mary had sent to Sam, hadn’t asked any further questions about the man (y/n) was about to marry, trusting that he was somebody she loved. “Come, I’ll bring you to her.”

“What the fuck man?” Dean growled the words at Sam as he followed them through the crowd and towards a small house built near the church. Sam fell into pace with his brother, watching Mary lead them towards the place where (y/n) was currently getting ready. 

“Well, you didn’t think I’d let you do this without knowing (y/n) would willingly leave her fiancé, did you? I wouldn’t destroy her happiness just like that, Dean.” Realistically, Dean should have known that Sam wouldn’t just push him into this without knowing that there was a chance to get her back. Sam had hated him for a while after he had left (y/n), punishing Dean for breaking her heart at any given chance, a broken bond that had needed months to be repaired. 

“(Y/n)? I brought two special guests.” Mary’s voice echoed through the small cabin, ringing in the brother’s ears as they waited outside. Dean felt his hands tremble, forced to let go of deep exhales as Mary opened the door for them, allowing them to step inside. His eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s like a moth to a flame, and his world stopped spinning, unable to focus on anything but her.

It took (y/n) a second to react, seemingly confused about the appearance of the two hunters she hadn’t seen in years. She was pulled into a hug by Sam, giving Dean another moment to admire her, the white dress she wore – a sight he had only seen in his dreams, imagining this very day, with him waiting at the altar for her. Dreams that had evaporated into a hazy nothingness the day he had left her. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” She sank into Dean’s grasp, clinging to him as if he hadn’t been the man who had broken her heart all these years ago. He watched his brother and Mary leave the cabin, giving the two some time alone as they kept on holding one another. 

“What are you doing here, Dean?” (Y/n) mumbled the words against the fabric of his suit jacket, not caring about smudging her make-up, not caring about anything but the way Dean held her close – as if he hadn’t ever stopped holding her. Carefully, Dean let her go, needing to give them some distance for the words he was about to speak, knowing that this could escalate any moment now. 

“I can’t let you marry another man without telling you that leaving you was my greatest mistake. A life without you has always been my biggest fear, I was stupid, so fucking stupid, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have listened to Dad, I should have married you right that day. And I hate myself for not doing it, for letting you go when you have always been my whole world. I know there is no chance for me to make things right, and even though Sammy and Mary hope that I will sweep you off of your feet and bring you back home to us, I know I can’t.” Tears dripped from her eyes, tears (y/n) didn’t care to wipe away. 

“I hated you for years, you broke me, Dean. You took away my life, my friends, the people I had grown to love. You ripped my heart right out of my chest, and even though I tried to fight for it, to regain its strength, I miserably failed. I should curse you, should tell you to fuck off and never show your face to me again. But I can’t. For Christ’s sake, Dean. What are we doing here?” He cupped her face with shaking fingers, letting his forest-green eyes run over her gorgeous face. 

“I want to kill him for getting a chance to love you, time that has been wasted because of me. But I don’t want to take another choice from you. If you want to marry him, I will watch from the first row, hell, I’ll even carry your veil.” His voice shook as he whispered the words, growing tense as (y/n) rested her hands on top of his, still cupping her cheeks.

“And if I don’t want to marry him?” 

……

I'm scared to take another picture of you, 'cause I'm scared to have another thing that I can lose, oh, dear, who am I without you here?

“I thought you were taking me home, where are we going?” Her laughter echoed through Baby, eyes set on Dean’s grinning features. They had left the church a while ago, running away like she had secretly hoped they would. (Y/n) had always been a dreamer, a dreamer who had pictured that very moment since the day it had dawned on her – about to marry a man she didn’t love. A man who wasn’t Dean Winchester. 

“We’ve got another thing to take care of first, I am not losing any more time.” Baby screeched to a halt in front of a pink church, a sight that left (y/n) confused, and Dean and Sam chuckling. They made their way into the church, with her fingers interlaced with Dean’s, with her white wedding gown clinging to her frame, with his suit hugging his frame. 

“Dean, Sam, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you two around here!” An elderly man greeted them with a big smile. His brown eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s almost instantly, with a knowing smile growing on his lips – a smile that had an almost proud touch to it. “That’s her, huh? Took you quite some time, didn’t it.” “(Y/n), that’s Danny, an old friend of ours we met on a hunt. He could wed us, with Sammy as our witness, if you’ll have me.” Her heart had stopped beating, skipping a few beats as Dean’s words sank in. Her teary eyes found his and with a laugh clawing through her, she pressed a kiss to his lips, drawing a groan out of Dean, who tried to prolong the kiss for as long as possible. 

“I will always have you, Dean.” She was pulled towards the altar, unable to stop her tears from dripping as Danny began speaking a prayer she paid no attention to. All (y/n) could do was study Dean, the love swimming in his pupils, the way he looked at her as if she was his sun, alighting the darkest days with her mere presence. A soul crafted for his to hold onto, to love till their time together would eventually run out. 

“Do you have any rings?” Danny’s soft voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, about to whisper a soft, disappointed “No”, but before she could even part her lips, Sam excitedly spoke up. Her eyes watched the tall Winchester brother, how he reached for his breast pocket to expose a small envelope to her glassy eyes. Wordlessly he pushed it towards Dean, who opened it with an unwavering smile stuck to his lips. 

“I bought these rings years ago, sure to eventually push yours down on your finger. I am sorry it took me this long.” Her sob left Dean chuckling, exposing his also teary eyes to hers. She had held onto all these longings for years, mere dreams that were now finally turning real – as if she was just sleeping through another longing. 

But, you're here, now, and that makes it better, somehow

……

“Let me.” Dean’s soft voice filled his bedroom. He was standing behind (y/n), carefully helping her out of her wedding dress with his gaze focused on the ring clinging to his finger. The past hours had flown by all too quickly, turning her from a runaway bride into his wife. His wife. A title so unfamiliar, Dean had to fight against the urge to pinch himself.

His for eternity. His to love. His to worship. 

“I love you, Dean.” (Y/n) whispered her words as she stepped out of her dress, exposing her underwear-clad frame to his hungry eyes. She was pulled into a teeth-chasing kiss, a kiss dripping with emotions that made her feel all too dizzy, having to hold onto Dean before she could be ripped into another dimension. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m so fucking sorry for missing out on this for years.” He pressed her down on the mattress, giving her a show as he slowly undressed. Her body was aching for him, needing to feel Dean close after all these long years apart. 

“Stop apologising with words and show me that you truly mean them.” His lips kissed her chest, the valley between her breasts as he undid her bra, exposing her hardening nipples to his twinkling eyes. Dean could cum just from the sight of her naked frame, a sight he had only seen in his dreams for the past years, not daring to imagine being this fortunate again. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I promise to worship you for as long as you want me to.” Dean’s raspy words vibrated on her skin, covering her body with goosebumps as he kneaded her soft flesh. His cock was pressed against her clothed heat, drawing moans from her whenever he moved against her heat, desperate for the kind of friction that left them both trembling.

“I need you inside of me, Dean.” Her raspy whispers left him groaning against her skin as she raised her hips to help him pull her damp panties down her legs. Just this morning, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, knowing that she’d think of Dean when her husband touched her, a loveless marriage she would have been trapped in. 

“Are you still on birth control?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, mind taken up by the feeling of his wandering hands, keeping her pressed against him. Dean's cock twitched against her naked cunt, brushing through her arousal-covered folds to coat himself, “I love you, and I’ll do my best to prove it to you for the rest of our lives.”

“I love you too, Dean.” He pushed into her with a groan, forehead falling against hers as she fluttered around him. It felt as if he had entered paradise, falling to rest on clouds covering his body. She was his Elysium, his safe haven, the one where Dean could be the truest version of himself. 

He moved slowly at first, both needed some time to adjust to one another after all these years, but the second their bodies relaxed, properly enjoying one another’s closeness, Dean began to move faster. Their bodies met with every thrust, eyes holding a contact so intense, (y/n) feared her heart would explode right in her chest. 

Dean was taking his time with her, this wasn’t a rushed fuck to make up for all the time lost, no, it was so much more. This was the purest form of love, a one-of-a-kind love both had clung to in lonely nights, with wandering minds and trembling hands. This is what they had been destined to have, years ago – a love they were now rediscovering. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He felt her clenching around his cock, drawing another gritty sound out of Dean. (Y/n) was long gone, pushed into another dimension where she only knew Dean, nothing but his love, his touch, his irrevocable longing for her. Sensations she was taken hostage by, unable to shake them. 

His warm fingertips found her pulsing bundle, circling it with just enough pressure to draw his name out of her. (Y/n) could feel her orgasm slithering its way up her body, whispering to her to hold onto her husband, and with her fingernails clawed into Dean’s shoulders, she came. He followed her right down the edge, moaning against her lips as their bodies were moulded together. 

“Fuck, we’ll have to do that all through the night, husband.” (Y/n) whispered the words as a few heavy pants left her, making a laugh claw out of Dean who chased her slightly swollen lips for another kiss. 

“Trust me, I won’t let you leave our bed for weeks, wife.” 

Don't know how the broken pieces fit together if you leave it, so, don't go, don't go, I would take your hand if I could reach it

[lunajay33]

Guardian🩶

Summary: You’re Sam and Deans little sister and they always looked out for you, so when you feel like you disappoint your dad, they all remember how fragile you are

Pairing: Big brother Deah Winchester x little sister f!reader, big brother Sam x little sister reader, Father John x daughter reader

•Masterlist•

Growing up as the youngest in the family of hunters was rough but being a girl was even harder, you always tried your best to live up to your fathers expectations and be as strong as your brothers but in some way you felt like you always fell short

Now you were all older, Dean was 26, Sam was 22 and you were 19, Sam finally came back from College after his girlfriend died but now it was just the three of you on the road since John had left to go on his own hunting

Sitting in the back of the impala on the way to another case you were unusually quiet and the guys noticed

“You okay back there?” Dean asked looking at you from the rear view mirror

“We have bigger things to worry about” you mumble not wanting to add to the bigger case here

“Hey you’re out baby sister you matter more than some case, so what’s going on?” Sam asks as he turns in the front seat to look at you

“I…….i miss dad, i feel lost without him” you don’t mean to but the tears drip down your face something you rarely did which shocked them, seeing the panic on their faces you wiped your tears and balled up in the back seat

“He’s been gone months you’ve seemed fine” Dean states you knew they missed him too but your relationship with your father was different you are his little girl even if you didn’t always make him proud

“It’s nothing”

“Come on Angel”

“I just don’t wanna lose anyone else, I love you both more than you could know and I love our time together, but I want dad too”

“We’re here” Dean said pulling up to the motel, you all settled in tired from a long drive

“I’m gonna go see Meg I’ll bring food on the way back” Sam said after he hung up the phone probably talking to this Meg chick

Now it was just Dean and you sat across from each other on opposite beds

“Dean can I ask you something” you ask biting your lip anxiously, after your father left you felt the weight of disappointment crushing you

“What is it kid, you’re so glum today”

“Do you think…..do you think dads proud of me?” His eyes widened but you could see the hurt

“The hell are you talking about, he loves you, you’re probably his favourite”

“I think he left because of me, because of the way things happened on the last case with just me you and dad, I made a mistake and I disappointed him and he left, I didn’t mean to”

“Baby girl you did nothing wrong, he just had a case he needed to work on alone, said it was too dangerous for us to go” he said sitting next to you in the bed wrapping his around your shoulders

“Maybe I should leave, I always held you guys back anyways”

“Hey don’t talk like that you’re family you’re not going anywhere you hear me?” He grunts out

You sigh mentally and physically exhausted

“I think I’m gonna turn in early” you say crawling up the bed and pulling the covers up, you slept through the night not even waking up for dinner when Sam got back

The case went on and you all did some digging, you were looking through a book when you found that symbol again, it was used for ancient spirits that someone could use to their will, Sam had found Meg’s hide out and so you all drove down there

“Y/n you’re sitting this one out” Dean says as you all get out of the car that’s blocked a street away from Meg’s building

“What why I can help”

They loaded up on weapons like usual

“Because kid you’re not in your right mind right now, it ain’t your fault but I just want you to take it easy for this one, just stay in the car we will be back in no time” you wanted to fight Dean on this but the look he gave you shut you up, you didn’t wanna disappoint him too

“Okay just be safe”

You sat in the car waiting and waiting until you saw them in the rearview mirror running across the street running in the direction of our hide out, you got out running behind them but they were farther ahead than you, when you got to the hideout room you heard screaming, you bust into the room seeing shadows slashing at Dean Sam and……and John, you run infront of your father taking the harsh slashes from the spirits, you can feel you stomach being shredded, claws run down your face then you felt 4 long claws go straight through your back, gasping for air that you couldn’t inhale, you drop to the floor the pain unimaginable

Sam sets off a flare destroying the spirits, someone dragged you out into the hallway as you came back into focus seeing the three of them watching over you

“Daddy I’m sorry, I just…..*gasp* wanted to make you proud” then everything fades quickly leaving nothing but black

John, Dean and Sam brought you to the hospital, waiting for your diagnosing the nurses helped patch them up, they waited in your room sitting around your hospital bed praying you’d wake up

“How is she doc?” Dean asks as the doctor walks in to check your progress

“This was one angry bear, slashing is one thing but to stab its claws through her is strange behaviour” they boys looked at each other hoping the doctor believed the lie

“But we’ve done all we could, she lost a lot of blood we just have to wait for her to wake up, sometimes talking to patients who are unconscious helps bring them back, might wanna try it” he said before he left the room

Sam held you hand as he pushed back stray hairs that stuck to your face

“Please pull through, you’re the glue that holds us together, the person who brightens our hellish lives, we need you” he sighs resting his head against your intertwined hands, John and Dean had a war going on inside their heads, Sam always had a different relationship with you than Dean, Dean was crazy protective and still saw you like you were the baby he first held, Sam saw you like his twin, his confidant and the only one in the family who understood him, and those last words you said played over and over again in Johns head

They stayed there for hours just waiting for any sign that you’d wake up until eventually they all passed out from exhaustion, you woke up late in the night, the only thing that lit the room was a lamp on a near by table

You try to sit up but let out a little scream when you feel the wounds that littered your body, waking the others up, they stood by your bed , John at your right Sam next to him and Dean on your left

“Sweetheart you’re up, you’re one tough cookie” John says resting his hand against your cheek

“Are you guys okay?”

“We’re not the ones who are in the hospital bed Angel” Dean smiles squeezing your hand

“I just wanted to help, wanted to protect you daddy” when you called him that it struck right through his heart, remembering how you’re really just his little girl the one who’d stay up late into the night at the end of the motel beds waiting for him to come back, squealing when he’d walk through the door jumping into his arms

“I’m sorry baby girl, Dean told me what’s been going on and you have to know, even though I can be a hard ass sometimes I love you more than anything, I remember when your mother first had you and I held you in my arms I knew I’d do anything to make you happy and safe and I know your brothers felt the same, I’m sorry I left and made you feel like I was disappointed in you, you’re the strongest young lady I know, especially to have to deal with these two all day everyday, I love you sweetheart, my hope” by the time he was done you were a blubbering mess finally letting out all this pent up emotions

“I love you too, please don’t leave me, I need you dad”

“I’ll stay angel, I’ll stay”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Protector

Requested by @captaincvans

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector

It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”

To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.

“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”

“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.

Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.

…

Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.

So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.

A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.

So you stayed behind.

But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.

…

“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“

“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”

“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”

“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”

“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.

“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”

Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.

“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.

“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”

“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”

The screaming stopped again.

“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”

“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“

“I think we’re done here.”

The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.

…

“We got a location.”

Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.

“Finally, let’s go.”

“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”

“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.

“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”

“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.

“The plan is get her back.”

…

You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.

However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.

Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.

“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“

Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.

“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.

“Dean?”

Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.

“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”

“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.

There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.

“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.

Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.

“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.

“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”

Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.

“Alright, I’ll drive.”

…

“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.

“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.

“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.

“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.

“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”

Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.

“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”

You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.

“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”

Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.

“You…but you were gone for three days.”

“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.

“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.

“Dean, it’s not your fault.”

He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.

“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.

“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”

“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“

“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”

“Then say it.”

Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

…

“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.

“I’m ok,” you insisted.

“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.

Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.

He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.

You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.

The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.

“I’m ok.”

…

You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.

So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.

You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.

“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.

“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.

After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.

He was your protector, always.

But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.

[bunnysbrainrot]

Sinners - Teaser

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual content, teasing, more kinks and details to come with the full version, nothing too warning-worthy right now?

Summary: Disguised as a priest and nun on a case, time alone with Sam back at your motel is everything but holy. The taboo of your situation has Sam dealing with some… impure thoughts. Will Sam be able to contain himself?

In the past few weeks you and the Winchesters uncovered some suspicious deaths in a remote area of Georgia. The locations of the tragedies spanned over 50 miles apart, meaning that the team had to split up to cover more ground. Dean had split from you and Sam two days ago, and the night before in the motel had been fairly normal. It seemed like Dean did this on purpose; you had drunkenly admitted to him of your affection for his younger brother.

Whether or not Sam knew of this, you had no clue. And now in your nun getup, it was all too fitting that you began to pray that Sam was unaware. The two of you calmly made your way past the yellow police tape, preparing warm smiles for a victim’s family.

Sam knocked on the door, letting out a bated breath. Weren’t nuns supposed to dress modestly? Your outfit was the proper attire, but the way it hugged your curves left too much to Sam’s imagination. It was his turn to pray that it didn’t stir too much in him, to let him keep his composure.

An older man answered the door, his expression easing at the sight of your attire. Turns out this costume was better received than you thought. You had to channel your tone and proper verbiage before speaking.

“Apologies for showing up unannounced, Mr. Peters. I’m Father Jeremy, and this is our sister from a local church.” Sam waved a hand for you to introduce yourself.

You chose to use your name, seeing that this was your first nun-appearance.

“We’re here on behalf of the church to offer support for your family, but we also have a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.”

Hopefully there were no questions about the nearest Catholic church, otherwise this whole façade would crumble. Mr. Peters’ face only softened further.

“I’m glad you’re here, Father, Sister,” he addressed you with a sad smile, “Please, come in.”

Sam stepped in first, using a beckoning finger behind him to have you follow him. The house was modest, but eloquently decorated. You recalled the murder that had happened, that brought you to this town, and shuddered. Mr. Peters’ daughter had been brutally murdered and discarded in a creek, signs indicating the presence of a vampire. Their daughter had been missing for two weeks before the time of death, which is what you and Sam aimed to discover.

“Mr. Peters, we are part of a youth outreach program at the church. Our aim is to help troubled youth, with restorative services and social connection. We were wondering if your daughter had any odd behaviors before she went missing. Perhaps she became more secluded?”

The man looked confused at first, “Odd behavior?”

Sam gave a small nod, “We notice that teenagers in need of help oftentimes become more distant with their families. Our goal is to provide better services to our youth, which does include finding the source issue.”

Mr. Peters have a small background of his daughter, admitting that she had become distant with the family. Not just that, but her anger had only worsened, amongst several harmful habits. It wasn’t uncommon for teens to become immersed in the occult and all things dark, but being surrounded by the wrong people can lead to harmful connections.

“I see,” Sam started, “and do you know what kind of people she was surrounding herself with?”

Another confused look from Mr. Peters.

You added, “This way, we’re able to identify warning signs - things to be wary of as our youth members meet new people.”

This seemed to clear things up, bringing out a detailed recount of his daughter’s recent social group. But, their social media had been recently deleted, preventing the family from getting their closure. As far as they knew, their daughter had made new friends, ran from home, and was found brutally murdered.

Sam’s eyes darted to you when you shifted in your seat, the fabric of your black dress sliding gracefully along your thighs. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but seeing you dressed up like this sent his mind spinning. The last thing he should be thinking of is taking you dressed like this, but he couldn’t shake it. His mind raced of scenarios the two of you could create, each one dirtier than the last.

But right now, the task at hand was covering the tightness of his pants. He leaned forward, the broad muscles of his arms flexing beneath his black shirt. Blush creeped onto your cheeks, much to the attention of Mr. Peters, who looked at you with concern.

“Sister, are you feeling alright?”

You nodded and gave a small wave, “Oh, I’m fine. Just a little warm is all. I apologize.”

Mr. Peters stood, “No need to apologize, let me get you some cold water. I’ll only be one moment.”

The room had gone oddly quiet paired with Sam’s intent stare at your face. You turned to find a concerned Sam inspecting you fully.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked softly.

A slight nod, “Yeah, it’s just stuffy in this outfit.”

“Well, once we’re back at the motel we can get you out of it.”

A beat later Sam realized how that sounded. He tried to backtrack, but Mr. Peters had already returned with your glass of water, which you gratefully sipped on. It took everything in your power to resist the images that came to mind. Sam’s hands roaming your body, stripping that baggy dress off of your body, his mouth finding every nook and cranny of your neck.

Sam seemed to have taken over the conversation for the last few moments before standing. Mr. Peters had already given a short list of his daughter’s friends, and their usual hang-out spots. Your attention snapped back to reality; you placed the water glass down with a small thank you, being pulled up by Sam.

His hand could practically wrap the entirety of your arm, his grip stable and warm. Goosebumps rose on your arms, brushing against the tough fabric of your dress. The air outside carried the comfort of fall, the breeze being cool and refreshing on your hot cheeks.

At the car, Sam reached for your door to open it for you, something completely new to the both of you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes. The movements he made to reach the handle had pulled your bodies dangerously close, fully brush against his chest, pressed into the car. A inexplicable scenario that would raise a few eyebrows, for certain.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want you to trip on your dress,” breathed Sam.

Honestly, he was thankful for the little slip up - being this close to you had been a wish of his, but there had never been any excuse for it to happen. Your focus shifted from his soft, hazel eyes down to his parted lips. Sam’s attention shifted to your lips, lowering to your chest for a split second. A selfish move on his part, but the damage had already been done.

Your hand fumbled for the door handle, fingers sliding over his own. The two of you shared another longing glance before getting you into the car. Sam tucked in loose bits of your dress so the door wouldn’t snag on them.

“Alright, hands and feet it, watch out,” he whispered. You noticed how his hands fumbled more than usual, surely due to the nerves. Perhaps you had been reading this wrong, maybe you had taken things too far? Maybe you had overstepped and embarrassed him?

“Thank you,” you replied, giving him a genuine smile. Sam’s cheeks flushed, unmistakably a sign that maybe your anxieties been just that. Simple anxieties from overthinking this whole thing.

Now settled in the car, the two of you made the trip back to the motel. After stepping inside you beelined for the bathroom.

At least, until Sam’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey, could I talk to you about something?”

You turned to face him, eyebrows raised. You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

“What’s up?”

With the silence in the room, you took the cue to sit on the bed. Sam towered in comparison, his lean physique defined by the lamplight.

His voice softened, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to get that close, I-“

“Sam, it’s okay,” you cut him off with a laugh, “don’t worry about it. I wasn’t bothered by it.”

He relaxed his shoulders. Sam began to dig through his bag for another set of clothes.

“You look good as a priest, by the way. You sell the bit nicely,” you stated.

What you said made his heart skip a beat. Was that a compliment, or just conversation? Sam couldn’t tell, so he turned to you once more with a goofy grin on his face.

“Thanks,” his expression darkened as his eyes raked you over, “You look good as a nun.”

There was no mistaking it - he was taking his time looking over you. Your breath hitched in your throat when he turned, leaned casually against the desk your bags laid on. You transfixed on the way his hands moved around his belt buckle. Mildly fiddling, but you couldn’t help but imagine him following through.

“Not my best outfit, but thank you,” you replied. Sam pushed away from the desk, slowly stepping toward the bed where you sat, tense with every step.

“I would agree there, you’ve worn better,” he commented.

You head snapped up to meet his eyes. A surprise note of flirtation filled your voice.

“Okay, so what’s my best outfit, then?”

He scoffed, “We playing twenty questions?”

You pointed to your outfits, smirking proudly at him, “Look at our getup, man, it’s like a confessional.”

A bright laugh came out of Sam; he tilted his head back as he thought.

“My answer isn’t exactly… appropriate.”

“Sam,” you laughed, “Confessional. You gotta tell me.”

He let out a groan before lowering his head, steadily giving you his answer, “Your dark jeans, and that long sleeve shirt. The, um… the one with the v-neck, you wore it almost every day over winter.”

“And that was inappropriate?”

“It’s why I like it that’s inappropriate.”

“Okay, then, why do you like it?”

The last thing you expected was for Sam to close the distance. He stepped until he was directly ahead, arms crossed over his chest as he locked eyes with you.

“It made your ass look nice.”

His tone was surprisingly serious, like he had been thinking of this answer for a while.

“Hugs your body in the right ways. And it makes your, well, chest… look nice.”

Sam humored your shocked expression but pushing things further. If you could dish it out, he could dish it back.

“What’s my best outfit?”

As you collected yourself, Sam stepped closer, bringing a hand to your cheek. He lifted your head, his thumb grazing over your cheek.

“It’s a confessional. You have to tell me,” he joked, earning a slight glare from you. That sour face melted away when Sam placed his hand beneath your chin. He tilted your head back to have you look at him.

Shit.

“Jeans,” you breathed, “V-neck black shirt.”

Sam leaned in, brushing his lips across your cheek. The closeness set your skin ablaze, each trailing lip and finger sending shivers up your spine.

“Is that all?” Sam whispered.

His eyes met yours once again, a startling seriousness lurking inside. You pushed past the shyness of your answer. The honesty could break the tension that had building all this time.

“Pajama pants… no shirt. When you just get out of the shower.”

Sam’s lips curled into a satisfied smile before planting a slow kiss to your cheek. He moved gradually to your jawline, sprinkling chaste kisses until his lips hovered over yours.

“Have you wanted this?” he asked.

Your frustration was intangible - a bottle that had been shaken too much, and ready to blow. He was centimeters, millimeters away from giving you what you’d truly wanted. The silence between you signified the utter defiance to give him this so easily.

“Confessional,” Sam’s voice reverberated against you, but he offered nothing to your pleading lips, “tell me, little nun, have you thought about this? Wanted my lips on yours?”

A small whine escaped you as Sam’s hand lowered to your throat, pressing softly to the tender flesh. The loss of blood flow muddled your thoughts into complete ecstasy, with no urgency to regain control. With just one move, it was clear to Sam that you were undoubtedly his.

You gave him a small nod. A low growl thundered in his chest before pressing into you further, laying you flat on the bed. Locks of chestnut hair framed your face, with a breathy Sam hovering his mouth over your neck.

“Nodding doesn’t count. You gotta use your words, sweetheart.”

Amidst the constriction on your throat you nodded and choked out a small, "Yes."

Sam's growing smile is all you need to know you've satisfied something deeper within him. Darkness floods his eyes seeing you like this, utterly at his will under his touch. If he'd known sooner that this would be the outcome, he'd have bought that nun outfit ages ago.

"That's better," he whispered.

------

Hi everyone! I know it's just a teaser for now, but I wanted to show you something I've been working on! I've also been pretty busy with work and writing for my book series, so things have been a bit busy for sure haha

I love you all, and I keep an eye out for the full version of Sinners!

[princessxt]

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"

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."

[perseephoneee]

okie dokie does a Dean Winchester x reader fic work? Had an idea way back in s1 when jess first dies, (older sister, who kinda takes sam under her wing) reader ended up meeting dean through sam. They had similar personalities but (reader) was more of a hopeless romantic than Dean. Sam on the other hand could totally see them together but Dean always denied it.

“Stop eyeing her like she's a piece of steak, you creep” “The hell? I do not do that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

so they left ca and travelled and maybe in s2-3 (doesnt have to be accurate) they end up back in ca because of a case or cause reader called sam for help. (not expecting dean to show up as well) and after shes not in danger, turns out they get along really well.

"Im not an arm rest, dean." "Mhm, then why are you so short?" "I'M 5'3 THATS NORMAL"

and just fluff..? idk man let me know if its not what you want to write, i can totally change it💜

not a steak (dean winchester x f!reader)

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

wow remember when i could actually write things in a timely manner? yeah, me neither. i miss those days (that never existed). whomp whomp.

You don't necessarily remember the exact moment that you met Sam. He's been a constant in your life since you were his TA as an undergraduate, watching this freakishly tall freshman so eager to succeed in your class. He made your heart soft, and he made you feel protective. Even though he was so much bigger than you, a naivety in his persona made you take extra time to ensure he succeeded. He ended up getting an A in the class.

You do remember when you met Dean, however. You had heard stories of Dean from Sam the few times you'd catch lunch outside of school. By this point, you were a grad student, filling the void of the older sibling that Sam unconsciously needed filled. You never pried for too many details, and that's how you got people to shut up really fast. But you did meet Dean right as he left town to look for his Dad. Dean was coarse and dismissive of you as if you were just another roadblock stopping him from taking his brother. When you finally got his attention, it was just to size you up before wordlessly climbing into his car. Sam seemed apologetic, but mostly, you were just worried. You had every right to be. Jessica died a week later.

The thing about you is that you can't let a dead dog lie. Where's the fun in that? You'd much rather figure out ways to raise them.

Sam was brilliant, but he let enough details slip to allow you to research him. And you were a law graduate student; you knew a thing or two about studying. Random newspaper clippings, shoutouts of various names, and blog posts allowed you to figure out the supernatural aspect of his life that he had kept from you. You should've been more surprised, but you were more excited than anything. There was more out there. What a strangely relieving thought.  

This knowledge proved helpful when you realized you had a poltergeist.

The new place you moved into was charming and Victorian, the dream of everyone with a Pinterest board. It was in fairly decent shape, and with your roommates, you guys thought you could polish it up to something livable during your suffering years of graduate school. Unfortunately, the price was too good to be true, which led to the unfortunate circumstance of hauntings culminating in one of your roommates in the hospital, barely alive. You called Sam that night.

"Hey Sam, it's me…" you trailed off at that, feet tucked under you as the machines' beeping cut through the silence. "I need your help."

The next day, he was at your door, enveloping you in a hug. He smelled exactly the same, and you didn't realize how much you missed him. Dean was with him.

"I'm Dean," he nodded, holding out a hand. You raised a brow.

"We've met."

"I would've remembered someone who looks like you," Dean scoffs, an easy smirk on his lips that probably made many women swoon. You just rolled your eyes, going back into your house and hoping Sam followed.

A week later, the boys were still here. This ghost was frustrating, and it was more the principle of it that was pissing you off more than anything. You let the brothers stay at the house since it was safer in numbers and cheaper. Plus, your roommates took a wide berth of the place before returning. A routine developed in the short time they were here. You cooked breakfast, Sam made coffee, and Dean woke up at some point. You and Sam would enjoy the paper before something happened (usually related to the crossword that Dean was totally not interested in), and you ended up bickering with the older Winchester until Sam got fed up with it and shut it down.

"Stop eyeing her like she's a piece of steak," Sam muttered to Dean when you weren't around, having stormed off to some other corner of the house. Dean almost spit out his coffee.

"The hell? I do not do that. I have no clue what you're talking about."

Sam just nodded, hiding a smirk behind his book as Dean grumbled about not checking you out.

For the first time that week, Sam was out that night. He was following "a lead." What that lead was, no one knew, but it meant you were alone. With Dean. In a house. Without supervision.

You grumbled something about making dinner. Dean followed you.

"Are you lost?" you asked, hands on your hips as Dean plopped himself at the counter.

"I'm following the food."

"Of course you are."

"Please, no more rabbit food," Dean groaned. "I can't take it anymore."

"Oh no, definitely not," you smirked, pulling out some steaks from the fridge you had been saving. Dean's eyes immediately lit up. "You're helping me cook these. I'm not letting your dumb ass sit around while I prepare a meal."

"You're bossy," Dean grumbles but doesn't complain further as he removes his flannel and sets it on the chair. You ignore that he looks really good in a t-shirt and return to grabbing ingredients. To his credit, Dean is good at letting you tell him what to do and following through. He is definitely a better chef than Sam, who has burned many things in your kitchen. Dean is an excellent sous chef. You tell him as such.

"The hell? I am not a sous," he says while furiously stirring butter.

"It's a compliment, you knobhead."

"Knobhead? What 1950s show are you living in?"

This conversation went back and forth for a while. But you finished cooking a meal, which is always considered a success in your book. Dean devoured him almost immediately before you could even finish cutting through it. Then, it was just you attempting to finish your meal in peace. This was difficult, as Dean continuously kept eyeing your food, hoping you might give it to him, and then would complain outwardly when you didn't.

"You're not going to finish it," he drank his beer, once again looking at your dinner. You glared.

"I can finish it."

"A girl like you doesn't finish an entire steak."

That comment pissed you off. You finished your steak in two bites, shocking Dean, and then proceeded to grab his glass of beer and down it in one gulp. You slammed the glass down, raising a brow. "You have no clue what type of girl I am."

You grabbed both your plates and made your way to the kitchen, putting them in the sink and starting to clean the dishes. You barely made it through a plate before Dean pushed you out of the way.

"Dean—"

"I'm not questioning your ability, but in my world, the one who doesn't cook cleans. So, sit your ass down," Dean said before you could chew him out. You bit the inside of your cheek and sat down, still glaring at him as he washed each dish meticulously and put them either in the dishwasher or on the drying rack. When he was done, he threw the dishtowel over his shoulder. The domesticity made you soften. "I'm sorry for earlier."

You blinked, not really expecting any sort of apology from Dean Winchester. You did expect that you would not get anything besides those words.

"I don't understand women."

You laughed at that, leaning on your hand with your elbow on the table. "Aren't you a self-proclaimed ladies' man?"

"I know how to sleep with women, but I don't get what goes through your heads," Dean leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "You want one thing and then a different thing, and I can't keep up."

"So, you're admitting you're slow." Dean threw the towel at you. "Women aren't that complicated; men are just bad listeners. You included."

"I can listen."

"Really? What was I frusterated about at dinner?" you challenged, getting off your seat and leaning over the counter. He blinked a few times.

"That I kept asking for your steak?"

"No, that you presumed that as a woman, I couldn't finish a steak."

"Well, that's not what I said," Dean replied, getting defensive. You just rolled your eyes, grabbing the wine bottle on the counter.

"Oh, also, insight into women; they lie about how good men actually are in the bedroom," you winked, leaving the room and taking the wine with you. You could almost hear Dean's jaw drop.

"It ain't a lie, princess," he intercepted you, his stupid legs moving much faster than yours. You frowned but didn't say anything. Dean took a breath, locking eyes with you. "Why do you insist on always pushing my buttons?"

"Because it's fun? Because you're both annoying and easy to annoy?" you shrugged, clutching your wine bottle to your chest. You didn't know why you picked on him, besides the fact he could be an absolute ASS sometimes that needed kicking. No, you suppose it goes back to early schoolyard days where instead of 'flirting,' you'd push the person and maybe claim to the entire class that they had cooties. To this day, you still had no idea what cooties exactly were, just that you never wanted to catch them.

"I think you like me," Dean smirked. He had crowded you against the wall leading to the living room. Your wine was an innocent bystander clutched to your chest. Maybe not as tall as Sam, but you still had to look up to see him. "I'm gonna prove it."

"Excuse me?" you breathed any sort of bite to your words caught in your throat as he reached up to your face and stroked your cheek. His hands found purchase holding your neck, tilting your face even higher and infinitely closer. Dean took the wine bottle out of your hands, your last line of defense, and stepped away for a second to put it back on the counter. His hands found your face again.

"Hey princess," he whispered, voice sultry. "Breathe." You couldn't do such a thing even if you wanted to because his lips were on yours, and he tasted like the draft beer in your fridge and apple pie. He was gentle, too gentle, and you wanted more. Your hands, first unsure of what to do, grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. One of his hands moved to your waist, thumb brushing the exposed skin where your shirt rode up. He was everywhere all at once, masculinity encapsulated, and you were drowning in it. He pulled away, letting you breathe, the command you forgot to follow. "I wanted to do that since I saw you."

"Bullshit."

"Honest to god— well, not god, but honest— but then you had to go and be increasingly difficult," Dean scoffed, still holding on to you.

"You don't even remember the first time we met."

"Of course I do; it was a week after my Dad disappeared," Dean responded. "You were wearing pajamas and had a raincoat wrapped around you as you asked Sam not to go so that you could figure it out together. I was curt, and you looked like you wanted to call me a thousand horrible names, but you let it go as we drove away."

You smiled a little at that. "You do remember."

"What can I say? I like pushing your buttons."

You smacked him on the chest, earning a laugh as you fought off your smile. You did finally get your wine and let Dean choose something to watch. About halfway through your movie (and three glasses of pinot noir in), you got distracted by a makeout session that would've made your teenage self swoon, but it didn't progress more than that. Neither of you wanted to go too fast. Most of the time, it was just light conversation, cuddling, and the realization that maybe you two were much more alike than you thought.

Both of you fell asleep like that on the couch, blissfully unaware of the morning light. Sam came home early in the morning, dropping his bags before seeing the both of you entwined on the couch. A smile crossed his face.

"Finally."

taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea @qardasngan @evasmlp

[ohsc]

Hi! Welcome to the tumblr spn fandom! I wanted to make a request for a sibling!reader, who's about teenager age, meeting Sam and Dean for the first time and finding out that she is their little sibling?

(P.s. love your bots, and I'll be looking forward to your fics on ao3!)

hey lovely, tysm!! i loved the req, hope you’re having a good day <3

(platonic) dean & sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.5k, sfw — requests are open

Sam felt so bad he felt physically sick.

Dean, stood by his side, seemed more angry than worried. He was fuming as they both stood on the front porch, waiting for the door to swing open after he knocked a little too harshly.

“It’s messed up,” Dean grit his teeth, glaring eyes switching between Sam and the door. “How many other kids does he have knocking about, huh?”

It was messed up. Majorly.

When they had found out about Adam, that was bad enough. That their father had a whole other son that he had never told them about, that he secretly went and took to baseball games and bought Christmas presents for. And though it left a sour taste in Sam’s mouth to think of how different John had treated their brother, he was at least happy that he’d had a normal childhood, that he hadn’t been roped into their father’s life, his quest for revenge. But then Adam had ended up in the cage, and it still made Sam feel fucking awful.

But this? This made Sam feel so horrible.

Finding out that they had a sixteen year old sister was honestly like a smack in the face. It meant that she was just a toddler when John had died, and though Sam was glad that she had the chance to live a normal life, it meant she’d never even had the chance to meet her father.

Or her brothers.

Sam had pictured the conversation in his head over and over again on the drive to her house, but he still didn’t know what to say. How was you supposed to tell somebody out of the blue that they had two brothers? How could you drop that onto somebody?

The door handle rattled, and Sam looked up to watch as it was pulled open a few inches, still locked with the chain from the inside, but it was enough space to see the young girl stood there. She was so young that it left a horrible feeling in Sam’s chest for what they had to tell her, what they were there for.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, gentle, so far from what they had expected of John’s daughter. “Can I help you?”

“Hey there,” Dean took the lead, offering a smile through his anger that still burned at the revelation they were facing. “Could you open the door up so we can talk, kid?”

She frowned, “You’re strangers.”

At least she was cautious, that made Sam relieved. It seemed like Dean agreed, as he hesitated before nodded. “Right, yeah we are, good call,” he muttered. “Look, kid-”

“We’re sorry to bother you,” Sam took the lead as soon as he heard the agitation seeping through Dean’s tone, a hand clasping onto his older brother’s shoulder, as if to say I’ve got this. “You’re Y/N, right?” He kept his voice gentle, not wanting to spook the poor girl who already seemed pretty weary.

Her frown only deepened. “How do you know my name?”

Sam offered a small smile, trying to be delicate about it as he asked, “Has your mother ever mentioned somebody called John Winchester?”

The recognition in her eyes was visible almost immediately, the way her expression shifted to accommodate the thought that ran through her mind. She hesitated, and only when Sam had murmured a few soft words of encouragement did she say, “She said John Winchester is my father,” she eyed up both Sam and Dean, her eyebrows scrunched up slightly as she asked, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“We just wanted to talk, um-”

“We’re John Winchester’s sons.” Dean cut in, and the bluntness of the statement made Sam shoot him a nasty glare. Given what had happened the last time they found out they had another sibling — it was fucked up that this wasn’t even the first time it had happened — Sam wanted to do it right. Not practically shove the information down the girl’s throat.

She blinked, took in an audible breath as she glanced between the brothers, before the door shut.

“Nice, Dean,” Sam immediately snapped, turning to glare at him. “Why’d you have to say it like that?”

“You were taking too long-”

The lock rattled and then the door was pulled open fully, and the brothers were silenced as they both turned to look at the girl, who seemed just shocked as she stood there in the doorway, her gaze flickering between the two of them. She eventually found her voice when she asked, “Do you have any ID?”

Sam liked how smart she seemed already, but held his tongue on it as he and Dean got out their only real IDs, and handed them over to her. She looked at them both a little intently, and when her eyes eventually lifted again, any skepticism that had been in her expression before was wiped clean.

“…do you want to come in?”

IDs were handed back, and five minutes later they were all sat in the girl’s living room, Sam shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean on a loveseat, and Y/N perched on the edge of a different sofa in front of them. They hadn’t even been sat there for long, but the entire time she hadn’t stopped fidgeting, her leg jogged up and down, fingers messed with a loose thread on her clothes. And though Dean seemed a little irritated by the uncomfortable silence — by the entire situation, really — Sam just felt for the girl. He couldn’t imagine being her age, and finding out he had two much older brothers who had literally turned up on her doorstep.

Then again, when he was her age, he was more often than not covered in some sort of monster’s blood.

“So, um…” Y/N took a breath, rubbed her palms on her knees, before she exhaled a bit sharply. “I’m sorry, this is really weird, I don’t know what to say. It’s just-”

“I know,” Sam eased, and offered a sympathetic smile. “I know, we’re sorry to just… drop in, drop this on you.”

“We thought you ought to know about us,” Dean added, his voice also came out more gentle than it usually was. “We were just as shocked as you when we found out about you.”

“What about your dad?” She asked, paused, then, “Our… sorry.”

“No, s’okay,” Sam cleared his throat. “He died some years ago, now.” He’d said it so much over the years that he just felt numb as the words came out. One glance at Dean and he knew that his brother felt the same.

“Oh,” her expression dropped, big eyes looking so guilty, “I’m sorry, I didn’t… that’s horrible, I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Dean cut in, waving the girl off. “You didn’t know, it’s alright.”

“Yeah…” she sighed, and took a sip from her glass of water that was sat on the table between them. “My mom said I met him once, when I was a baby he came by. But that was it, she said that he said he was busy with work.”

Sam grit his teeth, and had to glance away for a moment. Jesus, this poor girl. Sam knew how hard it was to grow up with his dad being there sometimes and other times nowhere to be found, but for her to have never even known him? He’d known his sister for all of ten minutes and already he felt almost protective of her.

“He was a mechanic,” Dean told her, offered a small smile. “Me and Sam worked with him until he died.”

“And what do you do now?” She was definitely a curious girl, but Sam couldn’t blame her for wondering about the family she’d just learned that she had.

“Still in the family business,” Dean continued, nodding. “What about you? Still in school?”

Y/N nodded, offered a small smile of her own. “Yeah, I’m a junior.”

“Man, I miss high school,” Dean sighed, leaned back in his seat slightly. “When I was a junior there was this one teacher, Mrs. Bradford, what I would have done to-”

Sam gave him a harsh nudge and earned a glare in return, and quickly muttered, “Shut up, not everyone spends high school skipping class to make out.”

Dean, who had been about to argue back, was cut off by Y/N’s soft laugh, and both brothers turned to face her, see the little smile on her face. “I do skip class sometimes.”

“Ha,” Dean hit his knee against Sam’s. “To do what? Smoke under the bleachers? Steal school supplies?”

“Jesus, Dean-”

“Actually, me and my friends skip to go into town together…”

Sam glanced between his brother and his newly discovered sister, and most of the worry that had been building in his gut earlier that morning had started fading. They still had a lot to even consider — telling her about what they really did, who their dad had been, why they were in town in the first place — but in that moment, starting to chat to her, Sam felt a bit better about it all. Maybe things would go better this time.

He hoped so.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: can you do one where their sister gets all wigged out at some guy being creepy and handsy with her at the bar and she freezes and doesn’t fight back and then it’s haunting her how she was just frozen and she makes either Sam and Dean fight her so she can be ready next time but it just sends her into a panic.

A/N: This was a really great request. I hope I wrote it the way you were wanting! Requests are always open. Also I would really appreciate feedback so it helps me with writing my other stories! Thanks everyone:)))

Warnings: Sexual harassment/Assault

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

The night was supposed to be a moment of relief, a fleeting break from the weight of your life as a hunter. After a brutal week of long hunts and narrow escapes, the three of you—Sam, Dean, and you—found yourselves at a dimly lit bar in a sleepy town, trying to enjoy a rare moment of normalcy. You were laughing, joking, letting the clinking of glasses and low hum of conversations drown out the fear that usually hovered in the back of your mind.

But then he showed up.

It started subtly. The man—slightly older, disheveled, his eyes too glazed with alcohol—leaned in a little too close. His words were slurred, his breath rank with whiskey. You smiled politely, leaning away as he stood just a little too near, but you didn’t think much of it at first. You were used to the occasional awkward encounter. But then, as you stood to move past him, his hand brushed against the small of your back.

It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t accidental. It was deliberate.

You froze.

His hand lingered for just a moment too long, then slid down a fraction, pressing lightly against your hip. Your body went stiff, the shock of it paralyzing you. Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to tell him to back off, but the words got stuck in your throat. The touch felt too foreign, too invasive. The very presence of him, towering too close behind you, crushed you in a way no monster ever had. It wasn’t the instinctive survival response you had when facing down a creature or a supernatural threat. This was something else entirely. This was vulnerability. This was a reminder that sometimes, even the strongest hunters could be caught off guard. You were cornered by something that wasn’t a demon, wasn’t a creature of the night. It was just a man. A man who was now way too close, his hands way too forward, and you couldn’t breathe.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” the creep murmured, his voice smooth but predatory. He took another step forward, his fingers tracing even lower on you. “You look like you need some company. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”

Alone.

Your chest tightened at the word. Your heart raced, each beat harder than the last, and your body went cold. You couldn’t get away. You wanted to scream, to shout, to fight, but nothing came. You couldn’t even turn around. It was like your body had betrayed you, locking you in place, unable to move, unable to react.

You glanced over his shoulder. Sam and Dean were across the bar, still chatting, but your hands were trembling now, a quiet desperation crawling through you. You tried to make eye contact with Dean, praying he’d see something in your eyes. Something that would tell him something was wrong, something that wasn’t right, something that would make him come over here.

And that’s when it happened.

Your eyes found Dean’s, and everything else fell away. He was laughing, his face lit with that same infectious grin, but when his gaze locked with yours, that smile faltered. The laughter died in his throat. For a split second, his eyes darted from your frozen form back to the hand that was somewhere it shouldn’t have been, violating you. There was no mistaking the look in your eyes—the silent scream for help that you couldn’t make with your voice.

Dean’s body tensed instantly, his protective instincts kicking in faster than you could blink. He didn’t even need a second to process what was happening. His eyes turned hard, darkening with a familiar, dangerous intensity.

“What the fuck.” He growled.

Sam’s head snapped up at the sound of Dean’s voice, his posture shifting into a protective stance as he looked over toward you and then Dean was already halfway there.

Before you could even comprehend the sudden rush of movement, Dean was there, a force of nature, his hand wrapping around the man’s collar and yanking him away from you. He slammed the guy back into a nearby table with a resounding crash, his fist connecting with the guy’s jaw with a force that sent him stumbling.

The man grunted, disoriented, but before he could recover, Sam was already next to you, his arms strong and warm as he ushered you away from the scene. His eyes were filled with concern, but there was no time to ask questions, no time to process what had just happened.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked softly, but there was a subtle edge of panic in his voice as he scanned your face.

You couldn’t answer him. The words were stuck. Your breath came in shallow, gasping bursts as the overwhelming weight of what had just happened hit you. You had been so helpless. The shame twisted in your gut, mixing with the adrenaline that still had your heart hammering in your chest.

Dean stepped back towards the both of you, wiping his knuckles, his expression tight. He looked at you for a long moment before kneeling down to your level. “Y/N,” he said gently, his voice low but fierce. “Are you hurt?”

It took a few seconds for you to even gather the strength to speak, but when you did, your voice was barely a whisper. “I... I couldn’t... I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop him. I froze.”

The words came out in a choked sob, and Sam’s hand squeezed your shoulder, trying to ground you, trying to make you feel safe again. But the truth was, you didn’t feel safe. You felt exposed, humiliated, and terrified. You had spent your whole life fighting supernatural monsters—things that would rip you apart if you gave them half a chance—but this? This was something else.

Dean stood, looking at the man on the floor with a growl.

“I’ll fucking kill you! You son of a bitch!” As he lunged forward, Sam caught his arm, stopping him.

“We need to get her out of here, Dean. She’s shaking—she’s in shock,” Sam said, his voice strained. His gaze shifted to you, and his heart clenched at the fear written across your face. Dean’s eyes softened, the anger fading as he took in your terrified expression, replaced by an overwhelming concern. He nodded, his protective instincts kicking in.

Without another word, they moved toward you, both intent on getting you out of harm's way.

“You’re safe, Y/N. You hear me?” He said firmly. “We’ve got you. We’ve always got you.”

But you couldn’t shake it. The helplessness. The terror of being caught off guard like that, unable to move, to react, to protect yourself when you needed it most. The fear didn’t fade just because your brothers saved you. It stayed with you, lurking in the background, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

As you left the bar with Sam and Dean, you felt the weight of that fear creeping in with every step. You couldn’t stop the thoughts from swirling around in your head. What if it happens again? What if you froze again, what if next time no one was there to stop it?

The drive back to the bunker was silent, the tension thick. You sat in the backseat, staring out the window, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm inside you. Sam kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror, but you didn’t want to talk. You couldn’t. Not yet.

Dean was silent too, his hands gripping the wheel a little too tight, his jaw clenched as he focused on the road. He didn’t need to say anything for you to know that he was just as shaken as you were. He had seen that fear in your eyes. The one that had screamed for help but couldn’t get a single sound to come out.

When you got back to the bunker, you immediately went to your room, not wanting to face them, not wanting to face yourself. You needed time. Time to process everything. Time to breathe.

But the panic was still there, gnawing at you, even as the adrenaline wore off. You kept seeing his face, kept feeling his hand on you, the touch that made you feel trapped.

And for the next few days the memory of being completely frozen in the face of danger haunted you like a persistent shadow. You had faced monsters—ghouls, wraiths, creatures from hell, demons straight from the deepest pits. You'd been through hell and back, each time emerging battered but standing. But this—this was different. A man’s touch—unwanted, invasive—had completely paralyzed you. You’d never felt so small, so helpless, as you did in those seconds. The touch that made your skin crawl, the pressure of him moving closer, it had sent you into a panic you couldn’t escape from. You could have fought him, could have defended yourself—but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Your body refused to move, frozen in terror as if your instincts had completely betrayed you.

That wasn’t you. That wasn’t who you were, and the thought of it gnawed at you constantly, dragging you into a spiral of frustration. How could you have been so weak? How could you have faced hellish creatures but not some creep? Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel the man’s hands on you, the fear that shut you down completely. It ate away at you, an itch under your skin you couldn’t scratch. You needed to fix it, needed to make sure it never happened again.

The bunker was eerily quiet when you stumbled into the library. The faint smell of old books and polished wood filled your nose, but you couldn’t focus on anything other than the searing anxiety still clawing at your chest. You turned the corner to find that Sam and Dean were seated at the large table, hunched over a case file.

They didn’t need to see your face to know something was wrong. The way you walked—shoulders hunched, head down, eyes wild—spoke volumes before you even opened your mouth.

Dean’s eyes immediately snapped to you, his expression faltering as he registered the distress in your posture. “Hey, you okay?” His voice was softer than usual, concerned, but it didn’t quite reach the depth of panic you could feel in his gaze.

Sam’s brows furrowed in concern, and he stood up from his seat, eyes scanning you with an intensity that made your insides twist.

“Hey,” Sam said gently, walking toward you. “What’s going on?”

Your throat closed, the words struggling to form as the weight of everything that had happened at the bar came crashing back. The sensation of the creep’s hand on you, the way your body had refused to move, the helplessness, the terror—it felt like a cloud, dark and suffocating.

“I need one of you to fight me,” you choked out, your voice shaking with desperation. The words felt wrong as they left your lips, like something deep inside you was rebelling against them, but you couldn’t stop it.

Both of your brothers froze.

Dean’s face darkened with concern, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, fight you?” He asked, voice careful, as though he were testing the waters, trying to understand if you were truly asking what he thought you were asking.

“I need one of you to wrestle me. To fight me,” you repeated, your words now coming out more urgently. “I have to know that I won’t freeze again. I need to be able to fight. I need to know I can protect myself.”

Dean exchanged a glance with Sam, his brow furrowed in concern, the air between them thick with hesitation and concern. Sam opened his mouth as if to protest, but you cut him off before he could say anything.

“I have to do this, okay? You don’t understand, I can’t freeze like that again. I need to see if I can fight someone off when I’m vulnerable, like that creep at the bar. Please…” Your voice broke, desperation seeping through the cracks, and you took a step closer to them, your eyes wide, pleading.

“Y/N…” Sam’s voice was soft but steady, the concern in his eyes clear. “This isn’t the way, okay? We know you’re strong, but—”

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head violently. “You don’t understand. You don’t understand how I felt, how frozen I felt. I couldn’t do anything. I can’t just let that happen again. Please.” Your voice cracked, and you could feel your whole body trembling, but you pushed through it, forcing yourself to stay steady, to make them understand. “One of you has to do this. I need to know I’m not just… helpless. Please.”

Dean swallowed hard, his jaw clenching. He was visibly uncomfortable with the idea. The last thing he wanted was to physically overpower you, especially after what had just happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

“Y/N, you’re not helpless. You’re strong, you’re so strong.” Dean said gently, though the words sounded strained. “You’ve been through hell and back, you’ve taken down monsters, demons, things worse than this. You’ve survived everything that’s come your way, okay? This doesn’t—this isn’t something you need to prove.”

Sam nodded, stepping closer and placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Dean’s right. We know what you’re capable of. This, uh, this isn’t the way to work through it.”

But you couldn’t hear them. The terror, the shame, the panic all mixed together until it overwhelmed every thought in your head. You couldn’t keep sitting in this fear, this paralyzing uncertainty. You needed to do something.

“I need this,” you begged, voice raw and trembling. “Please. One of you has to fight me, so I know I can fight someone off. I have to know I won’t freeze again. Dean…Please”

Dean looked at Sam, then back at you. His discomfort was clear—this wasn’t something he’d ever wanted to do, especially after what you’d just been through. He was much bigger than you, stronger, and he wasn’t sure how that was going to go. The thought of seeing you trapped under him, unable to escape, unsettled him. But the look in your eyes, the quiet desperation behind your words, broke him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, Dean sighed deeply. “Alright,” he agreed, softly. “But we do this my way. We don’t go too hard, and we don’t go too far, okay? This is for you to work through your fear, not for you to end up more scared.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay. But please, Dean. Do it like a real fight. I need it to feel real.”

Dean hesitated, looking down at his hands, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of pinning you down after everything that had just happened. Sam stood off to the side, his expression one of concern mixed with reluctant understanding, knowing that you needed this—however uncomfortable it was for all of you.

“Alright,” Sam said softly. “Stay focused. You’ve got this.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, trying to gather the pieces of your resolve that had been shattered at the bar.

Dean stepped forward, positioning himself in front of you, his posture tense. You squared off with him, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart in your chest, the knot of dread in your stomach.

“Ready?” Dean asked, his voice softer now, like he was trying to give you the chance to back out.

“I’m ready,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dean hesitated, and for a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t going to go through with it. But then, seeing the intense look in your eyes—the look of a person who had to prove to themselves that they were still capable of protecting themselves—he nodded.

Without warning, Dean lunged at you.

You dodged, twisting your body to the side, but his hands were faster, stronger. He grabbed you by the wrists, pulling you into his chest with surprising force. You twisted and kicked, struggling, but Dean’s grip was unrelenting. And for a moment, you thought maybe you could break free. You kicked him, punched at his arm, wriggled with every ounce of strength you had. But Dean’s grip only tightened, and in a matter of seconds, he had you pinned to the floor. His body was heavy on top of yours, holding you down firmly but not aggressively—yet the weight of him was overwhelming.

And that’s when the panic hit.

“You have to use your weight, shift your body. Get out of this.” Dean said.

You tried to twist again, but the force of his body was like a mountain against yours. You could feel your legs being pushed down as he shifted to get a better hold on you. Your breathing quickened. No, don’t panic. Don’t freeze. Don’t freeze.

Dean’s arms wrapped around you as he twisted you into a pin. You fought, squirmed, your mind spinning. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. He wasn’t even using all his strength, but it didn’t matter. The panic started to crawl up your throat.

“Breathe, Y/N,” Sam’s voice came gently from the sidelines. “You can do this. Focus. Use your legs. Use your hips.”

But you couldn’t focus. Your chest constricted, the panic spiraling as you felt the weight of Dean pinning you down. It wasn’t just him—it was the feeling of being trapped, of being unable to move.

“I can’t—” you gasped.

Dean’s grip loosened slightly, his voice softened. “Y/N, you’re alright. You’re safe. Focus on your breathing. Breathe through it, okay?”

But it was hard to breathe. You could feel the walls of your panic closing in. You were stuck. You couldn’t move. Your mind was racing back to that moment in the bar, when you couldn’t do anything. Don’t freeze. Don’t freeze. Don’t freeze.

“I can’t—I can’t get out,” you whispered, “I can’t move… I can’t…”

“Hey,” Dean said softly, his voice more comforting now. You couldn’t breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating, and your heart raced uncontrollably in your chest. The cold, sharp terror of being trapped—the same terror you felt in the bar—came rushing back with a vengeance. He saw the terror in your eyes, he saw the panic in your body language, but he knew you were determined to fight through it. “You’re not trapped. It’s just a hold. Do you need me to stop?”

“I…I can’t,” you gasped, your voice full of panic. You slapped at his chest, tried to push him off, but you couldn’t move. You were completely stuck.

“Breathe, Y/N. You’re okay. You’re alright,” Dean said, his voice steady, but you could hear the concern in his tone. He eased his grip on you slightly, but it didn’t matter. You were trapped. You couldn’t move. The air felt so thin.

Your body shook with terror, panic flooding your chest as you twisted and turned, desperately trying to escape. Your limbs felt heavy, useless, and your breaths were coming too fast—too shallow.

“No!” you gasped. “I—I can’t!”

“Y/N, listen to me,” Sam said, his voice calm and steady from his spot off to the side. “Breathe in through your nose. Slowly. In and out. Don’t focus on the panic.”

You tried to listen, but the fear was too much. You couldn’t stop the rising tide of panic, couldn’t stop the feeling of helplessness as Dean’s weight pinned you down. The fear that you couldn’t fight him off… What if I can’t fight anyone off? What if it happens again?

You slapped at his chest again, frantically, tears starting to fall, your breath coming in sobs.

“I… I can’t… No!” You couldn’t catch your breath. You couldn’t stop the terror from consuming you.

Sam was already there, stepping in, his voice calm but urgent. “Dean, stop. She’s panicking. Stop.”

“Please, get off me!" Your voice was raw, frantic, and it tore at Dean’s heart. The sheer panic in your eyes hit him like a freight train, and he immediately pulled back, though his face softened with deep concern. He saw the terror in you, felt it in the way you trembled.

“Okay, okay,” he murmured, his voice low and tight with emotion. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you. You’re alright.” His hands hovered, trembling slightly as he met your gaze, silently pleading with you to trust him. “I’m letting go now, okay?”

Slowly, cautiously, Dean released his grip, watching you closely as he allowed you to sit up. His heart ached when you didn’t immediately move, still shaking uncontrollably, your body stiff with fear. You looked fragile, like you might break at any moment, and it made his chest tighten.

Without thinking, you reached out, gripping his arm with desperate hands, as if the world around you had collapsed and he was the only thing holding you together. Your fingers trembled against his skin, and he could feel the pulse of your fear coursing through your touch.

“Hey, hey… You’re safe,” Dean said softly, but his voice was thick with emotion, his heart heavy with the weight of your pain.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw the tears brimming in your eyes, the overwhelming sorrow breaking free.

The words came like a vow, but his arms moved before his mind could even process it. He pulled you gently against his chest, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace, as if he could shield you from the world and all the horrors it had thrown your way. Your sobs tore through the air, ragged and broken, and Dean’s chest tightened, his own breath unsteady with the intensity of your grief.

“Shhh…” he whispered, pressing his cheek to the top of your head, his voice soft but unwavering. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe, I promise.”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, his hand running through your hair in slow, soothing strokes. Every sob you let out shattered his heart a little more, but he didn’t let go. He couldn’t. He only held you tighter, murmuring quietly in between each tearful breath of yours, “You’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt you. I won’t let them. I’m here. I’m right here.”

“I couldn’t stop you," you whispered, voice trembling like a fragile leaf in the wind. "I…I couldn’t f—fight you off. What if… what if that happens again? What if I c—can’t protect myself when I n—need to?" You sobbed.

Dean’s heart clenched at the sound of your voice, filled with self-doubt and anguish.

Before he could speak, Sam’s voice broke through, warm and steady, as he knelt in front of you. His hands, strong but gentle, settled on your arm. "Hey," he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours, "You’ve always got something with you—your gun, your knife. And even if you don’t have anything... if you’re caught off guard, if you don’t have anything on you—we’ve got you. You’re never alone in this, Y/N."

The words felt like they should have been a comfort, but the fear still gnawed at you, and it didn’t feel like enough. Not yet.

Dean’s hand continued to move in those small circles on your back, his touch warm, grounding. His voice was quiet but fierce, filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “We’re not gonna let anything happen to you," he murmured. "We’ll always be here for you, no matter what. We’ll train you, we’ll help you work through it. You’re not alone, Y/N. You hear me?”

You nodded, unable to speak, the tears continuing to fall as the weight of everything washed over you. The feeling of being broken, of being utterly helpless, still lingered—but hearing them, seeing the sincerity in their eyes, made something inside you crack open, just a little bit.

The sobs that had been building broke free again, more violent now, but with them came a fragile comfort, something you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in what felt like forever. Dean didn’t hesitate. Without another word, he pulled you tighter into his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly as you sobbed into him.

He held you with a quiet intensity, his warmth enveloping you, his steady heartbeat grounding you. Sam sat beside you, his presence a silent reassurance that they were there. Together, they were there.

“You’ll be okay,” Sam said again, his voice a soft promise. “We’re gonna help you get through this.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.

Dean whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “You’re strong, kid. You’re gonna get through this. But for right now, you’re safe. You hear me? Safe.”

You nodded again, the fear still present, but somehow, just a little less suffocating. Maybe, just maybe, knowing they were there, that you didn’t have to face this on your own, was enough for now. Enough to let the weight of the world rest, even if just for a moment.